Post by Omarion on Jun 20, 2009 23:15:50 GMT -5
Player Title: Jerome
Full Birth Name:Omarion, Son of Zerek
Alias/ nickname:Omar
Race: Angel
Gender: Male
Age: 406
Physical Appearance:
Omarion stands at a solid six feet with his body brimming with muscle. However, he’s usually found covered in armor and sporting a helmet carved into the image of a lion roaring. His hair is kept cropped closed to his head while a subtle beard creeps around his chin and lips. His eyes are a vibrant emerald color while his complexion is tanned from days living under the sun.
Personality Traits:
Omarion's outlook on earth has changed drastically after years on the planet. He's grown colder but holds more respect and less arrogance. He now knows the value of understanding. He's patient and has a quick mind that looks at every angle before coming to a decision. His values hold his people at heart and this is reflected in his decision for them while still on earth.
Weaponry:
-A spiked warhammer engraved with crests of lions engaged in battle.
-Throwing Axes
Extras:
History Summary:
Why are angels brought to life? Whats the purpose of their existence? Why do they walk their world everyday? To battle. They exist only to engage in war. That was what Omarion and his five siblings were taught from birth. Like all angels that were born, training in combat was mandatory and their father Zerek took personal charge of it. There was no easy upbringing for the children, as they were pitted against each other and the wildlife. Days were long, hours of sleep were short, and this all them to become tougher than normal angels, having a bit more grit to their character. One of the principals that was pounded into the children was the task of crushing an enemy before they had any chance to get to know you enough to predict any movements you make. Along with this, their training revolved around unorthodox fighting styles and weapons. Any time a mistake was made during a training session, punishments usually centered around a day with constant movement with no rest, or if the case was extreme enough, broken bones. Each child had a bones broken a number of times throughout life. Although Omarion and the oldest child, Lazerous, had the least amount of broken appendages. All the while training together Omarion and Lazerous competed against each other. Always testing limits, seeing who would give in to defeat first and fall. This was bluntly apparent with the nightly ritual the children went through. Every night before they got the small amount of sleep they were going to receive that night, they would have duels. Omarion and Lazerous always paired up and went toe to toe. Lazerous bested his brother more times than he lost. This rivalry worked to get Omarion and the eldest sibling more skilled and tougher than the other four.
Eventually, the age of 16 rolled around for Omarion and rest of the children. It was at this time, they were to go through a gruesome trial concocted by Zerek. On no special morning in particular, all the siblings were blind folded and led away from their tribes village. They were directed a number of leagues away from the village personally by their father with no weapons. As the six of them were brought to a canyon with no civilization in sight, they were instructed by Zerek's cold, hard voice. “You are not to remove the blindfolds until you feel the heat of the sun leave your bodies. When night has fallen and the air has chilled you will find your way back to the village. Is that understood?” All of them replied with Yes Sir as they had been taught. With that Zerek turned and left, confident at least one of them would make it. Of course Zerke was not a normal parent and held no remorse or regret for putting all of his own flesh and blood into a situation with very low life expectancy. The Chereky and Osth were running wild and their was a good chance they would run into them in the wilderness.
Finally, the sun had descended past the horizon and the moon was high in the sky. Blindfolds were torn off and all six of the children took glances at their surroundings, recognizing nothing. In only a few minutes they moved out, deciding to attempt to track their fathers movements. Zerek expected this however, and made sure to hide traces of the path he took, but not all of them. While the children set out, they worked as a unit moving through hostile territory. Makeshift weapons were either made or used. Rocks, branches, random broken weapons laying about, anything of use. Before the night was even finished they ran into their first skirmish with a group of wandering Osth. They performed as they were trained, using unorthodox maneuvers and quickly finishing their foes before they could get a handle on them. Their first real battle had been one with nothing but what the land provided for them. Of course this wasn't their only battle, and after each one they all acquired new wounds, grave or small. In time, one by one, they started to fall to an enemies weapon. Meanwhile, not having the correct materials to dress their wounds was causing them to grow weak. With each new battle, wounds reopened causing new blood flow. As the group of children lessened, it became dreadfully apparent that if they did not win their battles quickly they would fall to their enemies from blood loss alone. In turn, this evolved their already exceptional fighting abilities to new levels, but it wouldn't last.
Several days later, Zerek stood upon the edge of the village in the morning, as he had been since the day he'd taken his children out into the wilderness. If they had known the correct route back, it would only take them a day tops to make it, but of course they didn't. Each morning he would stand at the edge of the village and wait for their arrival. This morning would prove to be different however, as upon the horizon only two figures arose in the distance and walked towards the village. A smug grinned surfaced on Zerek's face as eventually, the two came close enough idenfity. Omarion and Lazerous, the only two survivors of the six that were taken out. In truth, Zerek expected as much, out of all of his children they were the best. The rivalry that had spawned for them as children made them tougher and stronger than the other four. However, he would only accept one child back. One of his own blood that would learn from him and take his teachings in the wars against the Osth, Chereky, and Dan'Che. As they both stood in front of him, he took in their condition. Both were beaten, battered, had open wounds on their bodies, not to mention exhausted. Yet they still stood tall with their chins up facing him. It was then that he related their final test. “Your final trial will be a duel to the death against each other. There are no other options, you either fight or die my sons. I will take only one of you.” To say the least they were shocked, but it wasn't major. It was almost expected as they were led to a simple clearing with a length of rope marking the ring of combat. A selection of weapons were thrown to the earth outside the ring, and they were to pick one. While Lazerous chose a spear for the duel, Omarion stuck to the principals of unorthodox combat taught to him since birth and picked up the weapon he uses to this very day. The wrecking ball.
Zerek stood nearby as the battled commenced. Both of the combatants wielded long range weapons and displayed their skill with them. Of course however, they were both still exhausted from their trek in the wilderness, and it showed completely. Zerek pushed them on with harsh commands to keep fighting. Lazerous however, made the mistake that would cost him his life. He underestimated Omarion after all the victories he had claimed over him all those years. He let his guard down as he thought his next thrust would finish his brother. Of course, Omarion swung the wrecking ball low, getting a direct hit on Lazerous's calf, snapping the bones with the blow. As the stricken warrior hit the dirt, Omarion swung his finishing blow, looking directly into his brothers dark eyes. With a snap of his arms towards the ground, the ball came and impacted the earth with his brothers crushed head underneath. The grin Zerek wore reeked of satisfaction and malice all the same time.
Omarion was given a short time to recooperate and let his wounds heal enough to begin his knew ladder of training. His first of which, had him thrown into a pit with captured enemies. His calculating eyes quickly noticed the weapons they all wielded. The angel stared up at Zerek. “Father, you send me here with no weapon?”
Zerek only held a stern and harsh glare. Before responding in kind. “You WILL learn to do battle at a disadvantage and unarmed. Now make me proud and slay them.” Taking the orders without question, Omarion's focus went to the battle at hand. As the assortment of prisoners moved forward to engage him, his fathers voice rang out once more. “Do NOT take a fallen foes weapon. Destroy them with your bare hands boy.” and thats exactly what he did, using the speed he possessed to evade hits and deliver incapacitating blows before finishing the prisoners off. Of course, he couldn't get away from each hit and was wounded from the battle while the ten prisoners pitted against him lay unmoving in the dirt. Zerek only nodded and lowered a rope for the boy to pull himself from the pit. This type of trial was executed often, as Omarion was thrown into the pit several times a day unarmed to fight. This was all in between his other training sessions with Zerek. With all the unarmed training, his body became just as deadly as any weapon that was brought against him. Eventually, he was advanced from the pit and put into a ring to do battle with unarmored but this time equipped with a weapon. Omarion wasn't allowed to use any weapon, but the one he chose to kill his own brother with. With this type of gruesome combat, his skill with the wrecking ball increased immensly. Often, he found himself slaying enemies with one strike to the skull or chest.
This went on for several years, until Zerek brought his son along to battles with the Osth, Chereky, and Dan'Che. His son was given his own set of armor and was allowed to select new weapons to accompany his wrecking ball. The first he went with was a war hammer, taking the very first principal he'd been taught to crush his foes, literally. Although, as much as he didn't want to he needed close range weapons for safety. In this he chose, two double head axes that would hang loosely from a strap around his waist. Living by the principals of angels, he went into battles without question and accomplished missions assigned to him by Zerek as he was ordered. Days were lived for the next battle he would go into and he found himself constantly trying to find a stronger foe in which to engage. As he fought and bled his way through each battle, he found himself always trying to engage the commander of the forces they were battling. They always offered the most challenge as the footsoldiers and grunts fell to his wrecking ball in only a one or two good blows with it. It was rarity for an enemy to even get close to him as he utilized the weapons range to keep enemy warriors at bay. After his skill with the wrecking ball came to it's peak, he started saving it for the most desperate of situations. At time she even would go into a battle and not use any of his weapons, making his foes think they had the advantage until it was to late.
As the years passed with day to day conflict, off the combat field, Omarion was getting teachings in battlefield tactics from ancient angel wars from Zerek. He got little sleep with the training and war at the same time, but his childhood had prepped him for this. With the tactics training, spawned his intellect and calculative thinking pattern. When a situation arose, he quickly dissected it and came up with several ways the problem could be solved. Lives were saved with his genius which meant more angels to live and fight another day. After a time, Zerek put Omarion in charge of all the battlefield maneuvers and plans for each separate engagement. Of course, the wrecking ball wielding angel wasn't going to be completely cut out from all the action. Her personally lead his own detachment of angel warriors picked out from the ones he deemed had enough talent to fight by his side. His own troopers performed exceptionally well until at long last, the three races they had been at war with endlessly were defeated and enslaved. Did they have celebrations? No, that was not part of an angels way of life. They moved on.
This was not a pleasant turn of events for Omarion. He became restless without the constant supply of bloodshed. Constantly, he developed plans for battles that did not exist. No win situations that he devised escapes or defense plans. Of course, these were all fictional and used to pass the time. Taking trips into the wilderness and find escaped slaves or just straggles from the three defeated races was becoming dull since none of them carried much of enough talent to defeat him. He still wanted that ultimate battle with a challenger that could quite frankly, match his skill. However, he saw no one even worthy of the task. Although, his eyes eventually rested upon Zerek, the man who had tormented him growing up changing him into the best. He would have to get the man somewhere secluded, fully armed and armored. Of course, Zerek was no fool, so an appropriate plan had to be devised to lure him away from the village.
After a day of waiting, Omarion went to Zerek and simple through the man his weapons and armor, saying a surviving Osth detachment was going to attack the village. The wrecking ball wielding angel simply left his fathers tent and waited outside a respectable distance for his father to exit. As Zerek left the tent, his eyes rested upon his son wielding his trademark weapon and ready to engage him in battle. The older angel only smirked and chuckled. “I knew this day would come eventually, so lets get it over with.” As those words left his lips, he drew his battle axe and prepared himself. Omarian jerked his arms upwards and began spinning the wrecking ball in deadly circles above his head. With a shout, he brought the weapon down in a swing towards his father, only to suddenly be hit with a sudden feeling of vertigo. Everything around him disappeared and suddenly around him were towards of stone and roads with yellow markings on them. Wherever he was, it wasn't home and his calculating mind was already working to devise just where the hell he was.
Update: Omarion has learned from his time on the planet earth. His strategies have changed and plans are in the works to take a different approach to waging war on the races of earth. Preparations are being made and the angels rely on secrecy to hide their growing strength. However, when the time comes, they shall emerge and reveal what they’ve been up to.
Post Example:
Training and instinct had kicked in with little trouble. It guided both pups as they prepared an ambush. Jerome knew it wouldn’t come. The very person they tracked had taught them half of what they now utilized. The beta’s eyes flicked over them as they waited patiently, until everything became known. Oriana’s voice floated from the alleyway and almost instantly he saw them relax. The tension melted away as they both relaxed with weapons vanishing from their fingertips. For once, the grumpy old wolf allowed the most subtle of smiles to curl the edges of his lips. She was right, there was improvement still needed as always but they’d done well. Their guard hadn’t completely fallen. Yet, as Oriana instructed them, he caught another newcomer, a scent he recognized from years ago. Shifting his head his eyes rested upon the form of Isabeya, an old friendly sight in a city full of horrors. Of course, just seeing her, standing their breathing was a bittersweet taste on his lip. “Long time, Isabeya.” He said coolly turning his head back to his pups. Just that one look had been enough to remind him of her Germanic mate. The sting of his betrayal hadn’t been totally unexpected but it happened nonetheless. The large wolf had trade sides for a race than he apparently felt he had more in common with than his own kind. Then everything had tumbled down as the very people he siphoned information too slaughtered him after his use had ran out. There were only few among the pack who knew it. Those who could keep a secret tight lipped. She didn’t know how he died yet but, he wasn’t ready to crack open that can of worms just yet. They had other reasons for coming here. The moment Oriana’s instruction had stopped, Seth and Monique launched their attack. The siblings wrapped their hands around Oriana, hugging her tightly. Of course The boy let go first, his arms slowly uncurling from the woman’s body. Then Monique followed reluctantly. Jerome’s eyes flicked back to his adopted sister as she spoke to him. “Not at all. You know patience is one of my talents.” Jerome remarked. “Besides, this was a good little surprise training event for these two. Seth ran a hand through his hair as he walked towards his father. “Moni’s big mouth was an issue.” He joked. Monique’s opened her mouth in protest but it suddenly closed as she laid her eyes on Isabeya. “Oh…. Her.” She said quietly her eyes suddenly shifting to a passive gaze. Jerome had taught her that, a way to hide what she was thinking but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how his daughter felt about Isabeya. Losing Stramn and the baby had taken a toll on the woman, and turned her into another person. Monique’s trust wasn’t fully there but while the beta stood in their presence, she had a tighter control over what she said. |