Samantha awoke, feeling quite... Different. She looked the same, nothing had changed. But she felt... Powerful. She came out of her and Kaebiuss bedroom, smiling. It was the morning after the conversation between Kaebius and Ryan. [spoiler]Shad, this is going to help with the plot [/spoiler]

[b][i]Starting Out, The Golden City, 0800 Hours[/i][/b] [b][i]Silence fills the air, not a noise can be heard in the 26th District as the streets remain mostly clear, devoid of the usual bustle and activity it has. A single man strides through the alleyways, quickly rushing to the streets, quickly climbing the rooftop of a larger apartment building, the civilians looking at him, puzzled. He arrives at the top, sitting on the edge of the brick building as he looks out into the streets below. A strange people he thinks to himself, his lightly shaded brown duster flying in the wind behind him. He looks into the heart of the city, a shadow casted over his face from a hat, commonly seen on the heads of the cowboys of old. [/i][/b] ((Open))

[spoiler]ded[/spoiler]

It was a normal day, warm and sunny. Ellie was doing what she pleaded while Ryker was training, punching a punching bag. Sweat was dripping from him and he was breathing heavily. The doorbell rang but he ignored it, to focused on his training. [spoiler]Shad[/spoiler]

It had been a long night last night, and they had gotten a lot done... Whilst Samantha was fast asleep, Kaebius was sitting on the bed, watching the passing cars light up their apartment window. He was unable to sleep, with too much on his mind. And with a lot to protect. His sidearm was close at hand, and with a special little device he had built into the wall, his main weapon was as near. He looked behind himself, at his sleeping fiancée. He smiled. He had gotten very lucky. He looked back out into the faintly lit street. [spoiler]for Cyber, but also open[/spoiler]

[b][i]Chapter 12 (?): A New Evil Arises[/i][/b] Everything was fine now... The Golden City was mostly rebuilt, but... Still the scars of the horrible war of Harbinger remained. Renamed 'The War of Death', memorials had been built, a massive piece of a broken part of the Golden City's walls, with the names of all those who had fallen engraved on it. It was a memorial to the millions who had fallen in defense of their home. But in the center of the plaza to honor the fallen, a statue stood. The statue was of a man, a man who had gave his life to save the city, his friends, and in some ways, himself. Cobalt Phoenix. The mans name, was as powerful as a gods. He had gone down in history as one of the most heroic of all the champions. His actions would forever be engraved. And the secondary hero could not be forgotten as well, although he was still living. Ryker Evans. The billionaire, philanthropist, and former player, one of Phoenixs friends. He had been there in the final moments of his life, and right now he stood, staring at the statue, in his casual attire. He softly touches the plaque, engraved with: [i]"Remember me."[/i] His face soft, almost sad. "Thank you." He says softly. Civilians stared on, some heartless paparazzi taking photos of him. He looks up at the statue, the straight face of Phoenix forever looking forward. He smiles and steps away, returning to his home. At his large mansion, Ryker sat at a chair in his kitchen. "Ryan... He couldn't have gone far.. After his plan fell through..." He shakes his head. "Where did he go?" He stands, going into his armory. It had been months since he had worn his ASCS... He longed to do what he had once done. He was to busy attending to his [i]extremely[/i] pregnant wife, who was very moody and hungry. "Oh Ellie..." Suddenly he felt something. A dark, almost crushing presence in the room. He swung around, seeing a form in the back of the room, a shadowy, waving shape. [i]You....[/i] "What...?" Ryker looks confused. [i]Die.[/i] "What.... AGHHH!" He screams as he falls to his knees, hands buried in his face. All he could see, all he could feel was pain. His family dying, his unborn child being ripped out of his mothers stomach, and... Eaten?! Oh god. [i]Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Those who resist, die.[/i] It grows worse. The vision changes to Ryker standing on top of all his dead friends... He got the feeling as he was responsible. The raspy and disturbing voice spoke again. [i]This is your future... This is your fate...[/i] "NO!" He screams as a massive white light puddles from his hand, wiping the demonic visions and voices from his mind. He shoots up. Something was here. Something was coming. He scrambles up, his eyes crazed. Ellie comes into his armory, frantic. "Ry! Ry honey what's wrong?!" Her light English accent made him look her way. He ran past her and pulled out a tablet hidden in a bookshelf. He activated it, the screen lighting up. He had created this after the invasion of Harbinger. A device that called all champions, it was only to be used in the gravest of times. Somehow, Ryker knew this was one of those times, and he hit the deploy button, a signal sent to all the champions. [i]"Champions of the Golden City. A threat has been revealed to us, a threat that will wipe us out if we do not join together. This is Ryker Evans, as a fellow man, join me, and defeat this foe, for a better tomorrow.[/i] This message echoes multiple times over the city, dozens if not hundreds of times. [spoiler]This is where you come in, show up at Rykers house [/spoiler]

It's coming guys... The plot

[b]Terra Catacombs[/b] [i]tick tock tick tock[/i] The metronome ticked a steady rythem. It was cold and lifeless, almost mechanical in nature. So perfect in time to the eyes of man. Ticking away in time to an unending rythem. [i]Tick tock tick tock[/i] 7th tick and he could here it. The subtle difference that no mortal man could have noticed. The lapse in time nearly a trillionth of a second, but he he could hear it. Slowly he could sense it changing as the time of the metronome changed. [i]tick tock tick tock[/i] It was imperfect, he always knew it as such. The gravity of the curved planet in conjunction with the rotation with regards to his distance from the planets rotating axis. But it served purpose. A constant reminder of imperfection that plauged humanity. [i]tick tock tick tock[/i] But no more, he thought as he stared at the processing card below him. Such imperfections were to be resolved. Sure the constant state of evolution would take its course, but what if he sped it up. Genetic modification on a planetary scale. Such was the power of the warp that the omnisiah delivered him. [i]tick tock tick tock[/i] But what of a host. A genetic card to stamp into humanity as a template. The eldar were intelligent enough but to frail and weak minded to accept this holy work. The Ork to stupid. The Tau to close minded. He needed something direct, strong and intelligent, that would let mankind obedient to the omnisiah and the omnisiah alone. He needed Tyranids. [i]tick tock tick tock [/i] He stared out of the office to his impromptu operations. Tech adepts scurried to work, each one with various degrees of chitin growing with their augmentations, granting them shape, form, and purpose to the once simple chitin growths. Even some women were swayed to his cause. The tyrannid genetic imprint working differently, almost intoxicating to all that lacked the proper augmentations. He had to admit though their children were born quickly and grew just as effecintly. [i]tick tock tick tock [/i] He walked to the back of his office and entered the chip into a cognator. Lights and symbols rewrote themselves as he flipped a switch illuminating an area behind the wall as it faded away like a hologram. "Soon precious you will enlighten us al." The Fabricator said plainly at the beast with in. [i]Tick tock tic...[/i] [spoiler]bum bum bummm[/spoiler]

Get ready m80s, how about another plot by me

[b][i]Time to Talk[/i][/b] It was a normal day. Sunny, warm. Ryker was outside, shooting baskets. He loved basketball, it was his favorite sport. He hadn't even broken a sweat. He should probably have been working, but hey, Sunday, the last day of the weekend.

Bump...so it doesn't vanish

[spoiler]LIVE ROB LIVE!!![/spoiler]

[b][i]The Lost Angel of Blood[/i][/b] [spoiler]This is for anyone. You may enter together and interact with each other, or you may enter alone. Remember that Sarris-Sanguine was a good guy who gave his life protecting his sons. He was tormented in the afterlife and returned once of power of his sword came into contact with a few key pieces of his emotional essence that was scattered at the time of his death. What is left is a shell of a Primarch. He is in there somewhere, but his bloodlust blinds him. He has become a bloodthirsty monster. Feel free to go on an adventure, you'll be in for s few surprises if his goes the way I think it will. I'll be showcasing multiple characters and engagements that will leave you wanting more - you know me :) Welcome to my nightmare. (Ps I don't have much RP time anymore so my responses may be delayed by several hours. Sorry in advance.)[/spoiler] [i]A tremendous, metal on metal impact echoes from within a nearby bunker - the screaming from within begins as the power goes out. Something crashed through the roof. "WARNING!! BLAST DOORS CLOSING, CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL ACTI-" begins an automated voice as the backup generator is blown to pieces from within the massive bunker. The lights surrounding the structure and within the inside of the blast doors explode, cascading sparks and shards of class. Energy continues strobing from damaged circuitry and severed power cables within the structure - casting a hellish strobe of disorienting lights within. Pipes of hot steam burst, limiting vision and disturbing a layer of dust that floats thickly. The air is hazy with smoke from fire. You catch a glimpse of a massive figure moving within the bunker, just behind the half way closed blast door. You then feel a towering psychic presence brush up against your consciousness, causing you to flinch as the cold of warp energy stabs at your mind. Screaming issues over the VOX communicator attached to the dead soldier laying next to you, then nothing but static. Sinister whispering emanates from within the bunker - you feel something watching you as you examine the blast doors... It's almost completely closed, the two vertical doors are barely wide enough for you to fit through the gap. Other champions in the vicinity take notice and are on approach - you might run into them within the structure. From the corner of your eye, you see a man in a finely-tailored suit, his features obscured by shadows. As you turn your head to look, you realize nothing is there. Are you seeing things? Is this a ominous premonition of what's to come? What could the vision represent? One thing is utterly clear... You're about to face pure evil at its worst.[/i] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/142575351/0/0 Have fun :)[/spoiler]

This false reality had become his own, and Matthew Hallwinter was all the more thankful for it. Ever since the day he had broken his promise, forgone his vows, he had taken a certain pleasure in observing the Terran skyline from a small apartment in the Middle Sectors, from his balcony overlooking the streets from several thousand feet up. It mattered not who or what saw him on the there, for he had committed no crimes in Terra, unlike on Earth. All he had to do was think of the sacrifices all of his friends, his brothers and sisters had made, in the name of warfare. In the end it had become all that they were, had consumed everything about them and from them until only their lives remained, and then it consumed them as well. It was ironic then that war was all he had, for war was what he lived for now. He sat down on a chair and took a sip from an unadorned wine glass, full of some Chardonnay: archaic drinks, in this reality, but no less enjoyable. Ginger was waiting for someone, and it was better that he could meet them with a drink in hand. [spoiler]Open to anyone. I have nothing in mind, so you could chat with him, or fight him, or just stare at him. Idc. [/spoiler]

[spoiler] https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/79/c6/93/79c693f7ec222954c46981bd8f21d417.jpg http://www.365airsoftshop.com/images/airsoft_mask/Japanese%20Ghost%20King%20samurai%20Mask%20Gold.jpg [/spoiler] [i] Ronin stood on the edge of the rooftop, overlooking The Golden City. He wore the armor given to him by Edward "Venom" Schrader long ago, along with his personal insignia on it; a yin-yang symbol over crossed swords on the breast plate. The slightly unnerving ronin mask was over his face as usual. He wore three katanas over his back, one is a brilliant white and gold, the second is an all black, and the third is an olive green, the hilt being that of a dragon head. The only reason he'd come back to Terra was for a challenge. Earth was getting boring. What use was training your life to become the world's greatest swordsman; if he couldn't challenges anyone? No.. He knew there were formidable opponents out there; he just had to find them. On the topic of new challenges, there was Ammourette. A brilliant swordsman and a great person. Even now he couldn't shake the feeling he'd gotten earlier when that man he'd seen walked past. It was...malevolence that crawled down his spine. Something in the back of his mind was still trying to tell him something, but he couldn't put his finger on it. [/i] (Open)

[b][i]Just A Talk[/i][/b] Ryker felt like he needed to do something... To speak to someone... He was sitting in his house, working on creating a new version of his suit, ever upgrading and making it more efficient. "I feel as if I'm forgetting something..." [spoiler]Sorry if this is weird I didn't know how to do it [/spoiler]

[u]Town Square-Golden city[/u] [i]Saying that Ammourette was nervous was a huge understatement, she was petrified. She had failed to collect her bounty and therefore was forced to use other means....she hadn't sang in awhile. She found a wad of cash in her back pocket and she immediately knew it was Lances doing, but she wasn't ungrateful so she kept it but was still determined to earn some rightfully herself.[/i] [i]She found a grassy place to nestle and began to play her tune, after a few people stopped to listen she sang. It was a song from her home, even though she was obsessed with swordsmanship and dueling she had a beautiful voice. She drew quite the crowd finding that there weren't many musicians in the city so her presence was uplifting to say the least in this city lost to war.[/i] [i]Ammourette sang, putting her soul into her words as if she was dueling an imaginary foe, swift and graceful. She noticeably blushed everytime she looked into the crowd, seeing everyone stare at her as they listened but she continued on. After she finished she simply turned a deep crimson and bowed to her audience as they cheered and filled her tip jar, no one could deny she had quite the alluring voice.[/i] [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[b][i]He had exiled himself after his return. He was too dangerous to be amongst his sons and allies. He was no longer himself. His great footsteps sank into the blackens sands of the southern ghost lands as plumes of ash rained from the twilight skies. An aurora of pale green shown through the clouds above and danced in the skies overlooking the outpost in the distance - they had no idea the killer angel was approaching. They had no idea that his bloodlust would be the end of them all. He had been walking for weeks in the black dunes of the desert, a landscape that bore a striking similarity to the cursed plane of existence he faced in the dream state. His death seemed like an eternity ago. His Primarch psyche had shattered in the hell of dreamscape as he spent lifetimes lost, although he was only gone from Terra for a few years. All that remained was broken like shards of glass that made up he fragmented memories, and his unending thirst for blood. The winds blew drifts of course sand into his eyes and slowly wore away the blood red of his hulking battle plate. He could smell smoke and blood in the air as he approached the outpost. Some of them were wounded from a previous combat with an unknown enemy, the aroma of blood aroused his thirst as he begin to lose his grip on reality. He spread his great obsidian wings and unsheathed his legendary weapon. The Blood Reaper ignited with a tremendous thunderclap of raw warp energy as a shockwave of over-pressurized and superheated air splashed outwards with crackling, distorted lightning. Whispering reached his ears from the darkness surrounding him. He caught a glimpse of a man in a finely-tailored suit watching him from the shadows. He was smiling again. The bloodlust was irresistible. Moments later, Sarris-Sanguine was among the inhabitants of the outpost. [/i][/b]