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Found 130 results

  1. R Pharaoh's Tomb

    All right, this has nothing to do with Egyptian Pharaohs and the like, unfortunately. I do love their myths and legends though... Anyway, this is the idea box - for me - and a way for other people to seek me out if they have similar tastes in role playing. I only do 1 on 1 role plays because they are easier to organise, manage, and follow through with. Fiction/Fantasy is what I go for. I do prefer X-rated content, but it starts from R: it may include bloody descriptions or adult content. There is no 'and' in there mind you. Unless you keep them separate. Yeah. So please be sure you are of age and you do not find any such content vomit-inducing. Now if you're happy to have me as a role play partner, feel free to leave a post here or PM me. Then we can work something out and start! Yay!
  2. NC-17 Welcome to Fog City

    “Welcome back, night owls. That was Duran Duran’s ‘Save a Prayer’, released in 1982. Today is Tuesday the 15th of October, it is now 4 AM sharp and you’re listening to Steven Jay and the Night Owls on Fog City Radio. Next up is Bru-†That was his cue. The radio had served its purpose and Steven Jay’s infuriatingly monotone voice was starting to get on his nerves. He turned down the dial, muting the radio, and directed his gaze upon the empty streets. The city had been asleep alongside her inhabitants for a while, resting in preparation for another gruesome day of hard work. Even in the Southside Slums you would be hard pressed to find anything larger than a rat on the streets. He, however, was the exception to that. His work was done under the veil of night and for as long as he could remember he had considered rest as a sign of weakness. He reached out and opened the glove compartment, revealing a pair of black leather gloves, a Beretta handgun and a suppressor. After sliding the leather gloves over his hands he pulled the magazine out of the handgun, making sure that it was loaded. Satisfied with the contents he pushed the magazine back into the gun and attached the suppressor. “Finally,†he muttered. He closed his eyes and took a single deep breath. Fully prepared to fulfil the task he had set out to do he opened door of his car, grabbed the black briefcase that had been sitting on the passenger’s seat and stepped out. With the pistol still in one hand and the briefcase in the other he slammed the door to his grey car shut. For the past two weeks he had spent every night in his car parked in the Southside Slums, carefully waiting for this opportunity. While tucking the gun into the waistband of his dress pants he crossed the round towards a small apartment complex. The Southside Slums lived up to their name. The houses were old, run down and hardly suited for living, but the people here had either spent all of their money on gambling, crack or whores or did not have any money for decent living in the first place. It was a sad story, tragic even, but he did not care. In fact he was grateful. Grateful that he misfortune of these poor fuckers made it easier for him to do what had to be done. Even better was that there was not a single surveillance camera to be found in the Southside Slums. As he opened the door of the complex he was greeted by the sound of a dozen tiny feet scurrying towards the closest hole in fear of whatever creature had entered the building. ‘Rats.’ Silently he strode through the ground floor hallway towards the stairs. His destination was on the second floor. ‘201. 202. 203.’ His eyes were locked on the numbers plastered upon the apartment entrances. ‘204. 205. 206.’ This was it. He placed his briefcase on the floor and took a leather case out of his overcoat’s breast pocket. The leather case contained an elaborate 32-piece lock picking set. Patiently he toyed around with the door’s lock and before long he heard the clicking sound of the last pin falling into place. The door was gently opened in an attempt to avoid the creaking sound often associated with old wooden doors. The insides of the apartment were pitch black, only slightly illuminated by the dim lights of the hallway. Relieved that there was no one in the living room, he put the lock picking set back into its place and picked up his briefcase. After stepping into the flat he closed the door as silently as he had opened it. To the right of the door was an ancient CRT TV with a coffee table and couch in front of it. He placed his briefcase on the coffee tabled and opened it up. He reached around a bit inside of the briefcase, unable to find what he was looking for due to the darkness of the living room. It took him a few seconds, but eventually he pulled a roll of duct tape out and left it on top of the table. By now his eyes had started to get used to the darkness and a quick scan of the room showed that the kitchen was attached to the living room and other than that there were only two doors. It was likely that one of the doors led to the bathroom and the other to the bedroom. Confident that he stood in front of the door leading into the bedroom he grabbed his gun and slowly started inching the door open. As expected, the first thing he was a single size bed at the end of the room. His prey was in his sights and it was a matter of minutes before he was done. No longer concerned with delicacy he paced towards the bed and took a peek at who was sleeping in it. It was a woman, mid-thirties, short blond hair and so skinny that you couldn’t tell whether there was any meat between her skin and bones. He sat down on the bed and leaned over her, making sure to cover both of her arms, and placed his left arm firmly upon her lips. The shock of his body on her woke her up screaming, but the sound were muffled by his leathered hands. “Shush, shush, shush,†he whispered, “do you see this?†He waved the gun held in his right hand in front of her face. “Make any sound louder than I’d like and I’ll be forced to use it. Understand?†Terrified her eyes shot towards every corner of the room, whether that was a sign of disorientation or fear, he was not sure. “Understand!?†She quickly nodded yes, realizing that not answering wouldn’t end well. “I am going to let go of you. You are going to stay quiet. You are going to get up and go into the living room. Understand?†She nodded. He pressed the gun against her temple and raised his hand off of her mouth, as promised. Still terrified and probably not even sure what was going on she kept staring straight at the ceiling, not making any attempts of eye contact with her assailant. After he confirmed that she would indeed remain quiet, he got off the bed. Click clack. He cocked his gun right before she got up in an attempt to make her realize that a wrong move would end badly, betting on the fact that she did not realize that cocking a gun is an empty gesture. Luckily she understood and got up silently, as ordered. As she walked towards the living room he followed closely with the gun constantly pointed at her lower back. “Turn on the lights.†She nodded and flipped the switch right next to the door to her bedroom. The light revealed that she was wearing nothing but a white haltertop and panties. Normally he would feel aroused by now, but he felt nothing but disgust when he examined her. “Sit down on the coach.†As usual she did as ordered. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.†Before joining her he took a stainless steel kitchen knife out of one of the kitchen’s drawers. “It won’t take long.†As she sat petrified on the coach he used the knife to cut off a piece of the duct tape. “Put this on your mouth.†He handed it over to her, but she just looked at it as if she did not understand what he meant. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.†After she gagged herself he cut off a significantly larger piece of the duct tape. “Stick out your hands,†he said as he kneeled in front of her. She stuck out her hands and he had begun wrapping the tape around her wrists, but at this time she noticed that both the kitchen knife and gun were on the coffee table. As if the fight-or-flight switch in her brain had been switched on at the precise time, she kicked him in the face. He hit the back of his head on the table and ended up stunned for a second, but she did not waste any time. Desperate to survive she ran towards, however with her hands bound she had trouble opening it quickly. She knew it was too late when she felt something tug at her at her haltertop. Before she knew she was tossed halfway through the room, back onto the coach. “You bitch!†The expressionless cold gaze that covered his face had been replaced with fury. With every step he took in her direction she felt that her time was slowly coming to an end. With a huge swing he hit her in the face with the back of his hand. He forced her down on the couch, sat on her with her chest between his legs and wrapped his hands around her neck. She struggled and screamed as hard as she could, but she was unable to match his physical strength and her voice did not carry far enough for it to be audible to anyone outside of the room. His eyes stared into hers constantly, while she searched the entire room hoping to find something that might save her, but as the seconds passed by her voice become softer and the little strength her body possessed her left. She was dead. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as he had imagined, but from what he had heard first murders hardly ever did. With no more business in the Southside Slums he quickly put his gun and the duct tape back into his brief case. As he stood in the doorway he considered one last time to set up the room and create some sort of spectacle, but he quickly decided that that would be too much effort. Instead he decided to keep it simple. With the kitchen knife, that he had used to cut the duct tape, he carved ‘SAVE ME’ into the apartment’s door and then slammed the knife into the door, making sure that it was stuck in place. He’d have to come back tomorrow and take a peek at the policemen. He was curious to see who would be the one to handle this case and even more curious to know whether he, or she, would be a suitable playmate, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. For now the only thing he worried about was what he should masturbate to before going to bed.
  3. OOC: Private RP between myself and Blackfrost. Avatar fandom, rated NC-17 for violence, depictions of death and dark events, language, etc. AVATAR The Burning Earth "Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want. Earth is the element of substance. The people of the Earth Kingdom are diverse and strong. They are persistent and enduring. Air is the element of freedom. The Air Nomads detached themselves from worldly concerns and found peace and freedom. Water is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything. It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If we take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others - the other elements, and the other nations - will help you become whole."- Fire Nation General Iroh A long time ago, the four nations of our world lived in harmony. Joined together in peaceful existence by the Avatar; the spirit of the planet incarnated in human form and thus, the only physical being with the ability to learn all four bending disciplines of water, earth, fire and air. It is considered the Avatar's duty to master the four elements and use such power to keep balance among the four nations of the world, as well as between mankind and spirits. The Avatar possesses an innate connection to the Spirit World and uses it as a bridge by which to reconcile the two worlds and ensure harmony. The Avatar is also capable of using this ability to contact the spirits of previous Avatars and harness their combined energy to perform feats of bending beyond that of any other bender. Throughout the ages, countless incarnations of the Avatar have served to maintain harmony in the world. However, for 306 years, from the passing of Avatar Korra, there has been no Avatar. The four nations collapsed into war and strife, and only by the power of a man called Sato Kataan was peace restored. Supported by the people, he named himself the first High Lord and constructed a great palace from which to rule over the four nations in Republic City, which he renamed to Imperial City. For a time, there was peace once more, but after five generations of High Lord, the world has slowly fallen to ruin once more. The roads are no longer safe, crime is rife, in-fighting and talk of war between the nations has begun to spread in whispers and the actions of the rebel group known only as the 'Free Elements' who claim to want freedom and peace, have grown increasingly more assertive and dangerous. It is a time of great poverty, famine and hardship for the four nations of the world, but there is a glimmer of hope. A young boy, adopted by a simple innkeeper and his wife, is soon poised to realise his true potential, and if he can succeed, put right the mistakes of the past and issue in a golden age of peace and prosperity. If... The early morning sun cast a gentle glow over Imperial City. Merchants quickly stocked their stalls as they prepared for the sunday market. Sunday was the busiest day for all the store owners as many of the travelling merchants would arrive from the surrounding nations to provide a wide selection of choice for the Imperial citizens. A bouncy jazz tune floated from a window on the second floor of the Winking Dragon inn. The music suddenly turned down and a soft feminine voice floated through the room. "Good morning listeners, you're tuned into Imperial Jazz, the sun is shining in our fair city, it's a warm summer's day and it is now eight in the morning and--" Suddenly the radio was turned off and a sterner voice replaced the radio host's. "--YOU'RE STILL NOT UP!!" She barked, marching across the room and pulling the cover from her son's bed. He moaned and tried to reach out for it but she gently pulled it further and further away until at last he fell from his bed with a thump and a groan."Uuugh... wh...." He yawned and without opening his eyes muttered, "Why?" "Because it's sunday and customers are already flooding in, what do you expect, staying up all night to listen to that pirate radio station, it's ridiculous." His mother chided him."But sometimes they talk about me, mom, come on..." He started to pull himself up and scratched his bare chest, "You..." He yawned, "You never let me..." He trailed off again as he yawned and started rubbing his eyes. "I'll let you whatever once you've done your chores, now come on, before the whole inn--"His mother was suddenly cut off as his father passed the door adding, "Don't worry your mother, Fang!!"With an exasperated sigh she walked out after his father, "You're no help!!" She barked at him as they walked down the stairs. Fang sighed and opened his eyes, nothing changed, it was still pitch black. This was the world he lived in, he had been born blind. Fang had recently turned sixteen, he was an average height for his age but he was slim and covered in athletic muscle, his skin slightly tanned and his hair was jet black and smooth, reaching down to his chest when not tied back in some form. His eyes were white from the cataracts that blinded him, but he was a handsome young man none-the-less. Once he had showered and changed into some fresh clothes; a simple black sleeveless kimono with baggy black trousers and tied his long black hair loosely into a ponytail at the back of his neck, with a few bangs escaping to frame his face, he left the room. He padded barefoot down the staircase with a knowledge seemingly acquired of a familiarity of surroundings. As he walked down the stairs he could hear how busy it was in the inn and he slowed as his mother approached, he could smell her perfume. "Fang, here's your walking stick..." She held it out and as Fang grabbed it from the air a little too quickly she shook it, "And use it." She added, irritably, before returning to the front desk as he heard a customer approach it. Fang sighed, twirled the walking stick once and then walked towards the kitchen, letting the stick tap unconvincingly against the wooden floor a few times as he did so, "Hey dad?" He called, as he entered the kitchen. A place full of fire, knives and other dangerous objects. He navigated the room as though he could see the layout inside, he crossed it with ease and picked up an apple, taking a bite from it with a grin."Mm?" His father replied, not really paying attention as he cooked a selection of breakfast orders for their clients, and checked the heat of the tea brewing. "Seeing as how it's sunday an' all, d'you think I could go down to Gong Li street when the merchants are packing up, they'll get together with the travellers and share stories." "I don't see why not... oh...." His father paused, stopping his cooking to look over at his son, "Fang, did you ask your mother?" Fang hesitated just long enough, "I'm asking your mother." He made to leave the kitchen and Fang knowingly stepped between him and the door, "Okay, it's fine, dad. I'll just say you didn't know." Fang grinned again and then walked out of the kitchen. "That boy is the reason my hair went grey... i'm sure of it." He muttered to himself as he turned back to his cooking. Fang crossed the main floor, pretending not to be aware of the customers as he tapped his walking stick against the floor with one hand, taking another bite of his apple with the other. He put his apple down and grabbed a stack of plates and began walking through the tables. He did the regular act, despite knowing how many were sat and where, he tapped each table once before asking how many people were at each table. For the most part the customers were pleasant and apologetic, feeling embarrassed to be served by someone they obviously thought was handicapped. Fang didn't mind though, he did once, when he first started helping around the inn, but he was an old hand at the 'young blind boy' routine now, and it bothered him very little. It only annoyed him when he could feel customers mocking him openly while under the impression that he couldnt feel their movements. The creak of their chairs for example, or when they leant in close to him and tested his sight by moving a finger within a hair's breadth of his eyes. If it had been up to him, he would have knocked them on their ass, but he knew he was supposed to hide his abilities as an earthbender, and furthermore, as he understood it, he was the Avatar, able to manipulate all four elements, though that was really all he knew about being the Avatar and, thinking about it, he wasn't really able to manipulate the other three elements very well at all. This frustrated him greatly and was the reason a lot of the trees in the back garden were being replaced on a regular basis as he took out his frustrations on them as he could not on the occasional rude customer. One day, he thought, one day i'll leave this place and learn the other elements, and maybe become a pro bender like the ones in the Grand Martial Arts Tournament held every year. He looked forward to that event. Even from a distance and through the distraction of the crowd, by using his earthbending, he could feel the vibrations from the arena floor, the feel of the air currents as each move was attempted and deflected and the sound of each move made. It thrilled him at the thought of one day joining their ranks. He had favourites, of course, and though he didn't know their faces except by description from his father who was also an avid fan, he knew the names and styles of almost every competitor and it didn't take him long to learn a newcomer. He couldn't wait for this year's tournament, he was sure the champion would win again, third year in a row. Po Bailung. But, he had chores to do, and he was more excited about the merchants and travellers' stories that evening, the tournament was still two weeks away. It took him most of the day for Fang to finish his chores and it was getting dark, the lanterns were lit and the merchants, he knew, would already be settling in to tell their tales. He could feel how quiet it was in the inn and he turned to look to at his mother who caught his white-eyed gaze. "Alright, Fang--" before she could finish he had already dashed for the front door, "--Fang!!" She yelled after him, but he was already gone. With his walking stick in one hand and knowing that it was night time, nobody would notice his eyes, he let the act fall and released all his inhibition in a loud cry of excitement, "Woohoooo!!" He yelled, leaping into the air and landing with a tap of his bare feet. He always walked bare foot, as it helped to sense the vibrations in the ground, his run turned to a sprint. He felt alive at last, the movements of the people around him didn't bother him, didn't impede his speed. He zipped through the still-crowded streets without as much as touching another passer-by. He knew where he was going and as he turned a corner he leapt into the air and kicked off one side of the building to soar into the air with ease and land on the opposite roof. He felt the flutter of wings as a group of lizard crows panicked in surprise and took off into the sky. He ran until he was at the end of the roof and then unceremoniously fell into a sitting position on the edge of the tiled roof, legs swinging in the open air as he placed his walking stick to one side. He could hear and feel the bustle of activity below him and recognized it as the merchants and travellers talking. Nobody had seen him on the roof, at least as far as he knew, nobody had reacted to him being there. He smiled and inclined his head as he listened carefully for the news and stories that would come from all four corners of the world.
  4. [Kokuten] In the dead of night the rapid tapping of footsteps echoed throughout the forest. A young boy of around 13 years old was sprinting through the woodland floor, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with fear. His long, wide sleeves of his jacket flailed behind him as he ran, his shoulder length jet black hair, with shaved sides, was flaying behind him from the speed he was running. He looked behind him as he shot through the forest, trying to locate his pursuer. As he turned back to face his front a black shadow shot out of the darkness and clubbed him across his cheek, sending him crashing along the floor. The shadow advanced on him relentlessly before he could even stand up. There was a flash of bright blue light as a streak of lightning carved across the space between them. "Teiru!" the female voice screamed as a young girl dropped from the tree tops, dressed in a tight fitting cloth cuirass and a short skirt, her blonde hair held back with a hairband. "Are you okay!?" she asked fearfully as she neared the boy on the floor, helping him to his feet. "I-I'm fine" Teiru stammered nervously, searching into the darkness trying to track their assailant. "Where's Ine-sensei? I thought he was with you." "We split up" the girl replied, "He went off to find Shozu." "Shit!" Teiru cursed, "Mitsuko, we need to keep moving. If we don't then he'll ki-" Teiru stopped, his expression forming into a black stare into the distance. Mitsuko looked fearfully at her comrade, her head slowly lowering to his chest where a thin blade was jutting out from him, thick and dripping with his blood. "Teiru!" She screamed as the blade withdrew and Teiru collapsed to the floor. He looked up at her for a brief moment, his eyes longing and full of desperation, but very quickly they became blank as the boy's life faded. "TEIRU!!!" Mitsuko cried as tears streamed from her eyes. She motioned to touch him, to embrace him. The hair's on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed movement. Her instincts drove her from her grief and her hands clasped together to perform a series of seals before her right hand ignited with the same electric blue light from before. The loud noise of birds chirping emanated from the crackling electricity that sparked furiously in her palm. She turned into the darkness and her eyes were ablaze with fury. "Come out!" she cried, "Show yourself! I'm not afraid of you!" "You should be." came the reply in a dark and sinister tone. Darkness descended on Mitsuko's eyes and suddenly her chirping stopped, before a piercing scream echoed out through the woods, followed by a deafening silence. Elsewhere another young boy was in a dire state. The boy was collapsed on the ground, suffering from several broken limbs, blood dripping from his forehead, blending with his shaggy mane of red hair. His dark blue eyes fell on the feet stood before him. His gaze slowly moved upwards to the man who was facing away from him. "I...Ine-sensei!" The boy gasped for breath "Calm down Shuzo" Ine replied. He was older than the rest of his team, but still youthful in his mid-20's. Ine was dressed in traditional black shinobi gear with a green chuunin jacket and a brown poncho-like cloak over his shoulders. His hair was tall and styled in a single spike, his eyes fearless and confident, staring into the darkness directly ahead of him. "I'm sorry that things have happened this way...I won't try to sugar coat it...we're in serious trouble." "Sensei...who are they?" Shuzo asked weakly. "I wish I knew..." Ine replied, "...Shuzo...I might not get to talk with you like this again. Please...whatever happens...never surrender. You have to be the strongest you can possibly be...for Konoha...and for me." "Sensei!" Shuzo cried desperately, "I don't understand! Please!" "It's too late!" Ine replied, "They are coming!" and then Ine shot off into the distance, out of Shuzo's view. The boy felt weak, his eyelids becoming heavy. It felt like he had been staring into the night for hours. Then true darkness washed over him as he finally slipped from consciousness. [sadness and Sorrow] 1 year had passed since that dreaded night. The red haired boy looked out into the sunshine over Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He stood on top of a large mountain that overlooked the village. On this mountain the heads of each Hokage that had served Konoha were carved into the rocks. Shuzo's hair had grown slightly longer but was still the same style, shaggy like a lion's mane. He was dressed in a pair of thigh length black boots with open toes, and a pair of white trousers. His jacket was sleeveless and left open to reveal a bare chest with bandages wrapped around his lower torso. His arms were lean and muscular, with a black forehead protector tied around his right bicep. He was tying bandage wraps around his wrists and hands, gripping his hand into a fist as he tightened the bandage to tie it off. As he finished he gazed off into the bustling village once more, his eyes glazed as if he was off in some distant land, far away from it all. "Shuzo-kun!" the call snapped him back to reality. He turned around to see another man with brilliant red hair like his own, except his mane was much longer, hanging down his back. The man was in his mid 40's and was a good 6 feet tall, with bulging muscles and wearing black sparring gear that made him look like a martial arts instructor. The man grinned confidently and clenched his fist in front of him, motioning for his son to pay attention. "It's almost time for you to go back out into the world as a ninja. That said...you still have time for one last round with your old man!" [beautiful Green Wild Beast] "You got it!" Shuzo said as his expression became a confident smirk, "No ninjutsu, just you and me pops!" "Hahaa!" His father laughed heartily, "Bring it on you cheeky pup!" Shuzo stretched his legs out to increase his balance, holding his left arm in front of him and his right raised up behind his head, palms open and relaxed. His father responded by holding his tensed fists at his waist in a horse stance, before quickly launching forward to attack his son. With incredible speed he closed the gap between them and threw a deft haymaker, that Shuzo pushed away with his left hand as he maneuvered around his father, ducking and spinning on his heel, coming back round and striking with a with a heel kick into his father's arms as he had already moved to block. Shuzo changed direction in his spin, lowering his body as his leg swiped under his father who leapt and flipped backwards to avoid. Shuzo advanced relentlessly, his arms in a V shape behind him as he sprinted to meet his father as he landed. As they met Shuzo swung a right hook at his father and he ducked accordingly, Shuzo countered with a left jab to his father's chest that connected, before uppercutting his jaw, sending him back and leaving him open. This is it! Shuzo thought. Shuzo brought his arm back at waist height, stretching it behind his back as his fist clenched tightly. Suddenly he punched forward, his fist twisting as he made the strike. Just as the punch was about to connect, his father suddenly rallied, crossing his arms up to his face to guard from the attack. Shuzo's fist connected and for a brief moment there was stillness, before the force of the strike sent his father sliding back across the dirt, a trail created under his feet. Still his father stood unscathed. Shuzo looked unnerved, but his father appeared to be beaming. "Oho!" He said admiringly, "That is some serious power...had I not brought up my guard you might have knocked me off my feet...you've improved Shuzo-kun!" "Still not enough..." Shuzo griped, "I better do some more training before the meeting." "No time!" his father replied, breaking his stance and approaching his son, tapping him gently on the shoulder. "You have to meet your new Jounin leader down at the barbecue restaurant." "Barbecue?" Shuzo asked with a raised brow, "That stuff is so greasy...why not the Sushi bar...it's got way better protein meals..." "She doesn't like fish-ah! I mean...you better be on your way son!" His father stammered, scratching his head nervously. "Huh?" Shuzo looked up at his father questioningly, "So my new leader is a girl? Who is she?" "You'll see..." his father said as he made a motion with his hand that suggested Shuzo run along. "Go on, or you'll be late."
  5. Private RP between myself and Blackfrost. Rated NC-17 for violence, language, dark themes and possibility of other things. Just playing it safe and for a little freedom. 212ASC - Two hundred and twelve years after sozin's comet. The current Avatar, Korra, passes on. The peoples of the four elemental nations wept for their loss and prayed for the coming of the new Avatar. But as time passed, no Avatar was found. As the years rolled by, the people began to lose hope. In-fighting, famine and crime began to spread across the four nations. 232ASC - Twenty years have passed since Avatar Korra's death. The four nations are at war, and it seems nothing will stop them. But from the ashes of war rose one man, who consolidated the forces of the fire and earth nations under a single banner. His name was Sato Kataan, and within the space of three years he unified his forces and swept the water nation, and the newly re-formed air nation aside. The war was over, and for a time, peace returned. 236ASC - One year from the end of the war, Sato Kataan seized power over the four nations, using the loyalty of the armies he had amassed during the war. He proclaimed himself the first 'High Lord' and demanded subjugation of the four nations. He consolidated his power in Republic City, which he renamed to Imperial City. Then built a great palace where once stood a democratic council. The reign of the Empire began. 518ASC - For three hundred and six years the Empire has ruled with little resistance. There have been five High Lords in that time, direct descendants of Sato. The current High Lord, Yoshi Kataan, has ruled for nearly 15 years. But, in the past 30 years, likely a result of the Empire's control of the four nations, the continued lawlessness outside of Imperial City, and the increase of famine, there has risen a determined group that call themselves the 'Free Elements'. They claim to want a return to the old ways, when the four nations were seperate entities and though there was war at times, it was peaceful in the time of the Avatar, there was no famine, and most of all, they had true freedom. My character profile: Name: Fang Xiao Age: 16 Bending: Earthbender/Avatar Appearance: Slim but athletically built, average height for his age. Tanned skin and long, smooth jet black hair that flows down to his chest, when not tied back. He is a handsome young man overall, but his face is marked by the whiteness of his eyes, the physical signs of being born blind. Personality: Fang is a headstrong person, he can be impatient and he has a short and powerful temper, but he is a warm person who values those he can trust. Though he is extremely capable of his abilities as an Earthbender, he doubts his strength in many other aspects and will sometimes use disinterest to mask fear or uncertainty. History: Fang was born in Imperial City, brought up inside the walls and protected by the Empire's guard. He had a fairly normal life but it was hard at times. An innkeeper's wife found him as a baby and they raised him as their own. He quickly adapted to his lack of sight as he found he could use earthbending to augment it through touch, sound and vibration, but his adopted parents always told him to hide his ability to stop the Empire from taking an interest in their affairs. When he was five, they discovered he was able to feebly create and control the other elements, and realised that their adopted son was the Avatar. Unsure of what to do, or how the Empire would react, they reinforced that he was not to practice or use the other elements, under any circumstances. And so Fang grew up, becoming a master of earthbending but having to hide his nature all along. In spite of his parent's warnings, he has tried to dabble with the other elements without much success, but has kept this hidden from others, at least, as far as he knows...