[Scavenqers]

[jumps in the fray shouting latin chants] res!

[LoneAnubis]

Marking ;A;

[susie.]

Marking!

[Uchuujin]

I love the design and totally want to reserve but I haven't been struck with a story yet. I'm crossing my fingers that it'll happen!

[Offended Cockatiel]

We'd be so less fragile

If we were made of metal

And our hearts from iron

And our minds from steel

Username: Byteme
Name:

March

XxX
Xxx

Gender: Male
Personality:

"It's okay to die, people. There's something overtaking your chest, growing and contaminating you, every time you think about it, and it's okay to close your eyes and smile but to not forget that your kind think that performance is best. So to stay in their memories there must be a grandeur exit as there was a grandeur entrance, in this dramatic exposé of 'Life', the foriegn version, where maybe you already had an audience or rather gained it later on. The suffocating feeling of sadness can only be countered with open arms and the upheeving chest, taking in breathes like no mans, or womans, business.


Sometimes the death you ask for cannot be soon enough. And that blank feeling taking over your eyes, a certain sweet like numbness, similar to the cold and the tired need to sleep softly. With it's companion, the lovely little smile put on, that aches so painfully and, yet, doesn't, as the words 'It's okay if I die now.' Slip out like acrobats pulling themselves through the darkness, and a large foiled hiding chamber made of cloth. Right now. Tumbling through the turns and richotes of amusement park rides, where no on will hear somehow. Watching feet below you and the rough ground, and the world, that beautiful world and realizing not once... Have you really noticed... 'I've never really noticed the people down there.' As you flew, and turned and bounced and felt the world deep against your skin.

And sometimes I want to take the foreheads of my victims, of the bystanders and kiss them gently but my lips could not do them a service wanted. Besides my lips are as detatched as they come when I begin thinking of such things, numb and cold and awkward. But how comforting it would be to press them just barely against something warm and alive and feel my heart ache. How pitifully sad.

And peaceful as the melancholia of this created world is. I've heard 'Our existence is sad.' and 'Our life is happy, a miracle that we exist,' and 'The sad part is when that life, our miracle, ends.' and of course, through their lips, breathing just gently and yet with emotions that contradict each other in a fighting battle of top dog, who can win? 'It is all very sad and climactic, that is life. What we bare through. What we must... Do.' Because we never... Rarely do we, ever... Have a choice.

So I must cause just a moments destraction, what they may call un-understood destruction in quick movements and hurried blankness. Invading thoughts coming in when not welcomed, make me want vomit.


And in my mind everything sounds like fighting, an optimists mind trapped in the tomb... Of fear.


Hellish propoganda..."

"I want to die," He said in a voice garish with lamenting. His arms hung low, already seaming dead in their place, and he appeared to be young. Not just a boy but a youth no matter how the description left the seers mouth. With nothing to peruse the boy dressed in simple, so so very simple, attire, breathing in intervals of deep and then soft hales, took to the wrong side of the track.

The strong stroke of emotions attacked the air around the boy, killing off any haul of compassion that mite have been caught their, within the strong winds when they stood still. A smile bickered to tug at his lips, making him twitch as it fought with itself to decide against the sadness. Finally a sad little thing formed onto over his mouth, a smile of sorts, fake in its every creation.

The God of war was the sovereign companion of death himself... Itself, and one of growth, sickness and fear.

You did not ask him to kill you, to release you from life, to condemn you to the darkness or anything alike to it all. No, you do not even say hello to the God of war. There were rules people abided by since totaling birth, star clear of death until it comes, your time.

Art:

[Oddly Shaded]

Hex Codes are up for those arteers

[Relamune]

WIP!

· · « " War does not determine who is right - only who is left. " ›› · ·

[ Somber Cheza ] · [ Crixus ] · [ Male ]

P E R S O N A L I T Y

H I S T O R Y

My Details Define Me
..>> Crixus' voice is not quite like other Deersserts nor most of the other deities. When he speaks he has a deep, rumbling voice described similar to the following ;;

-And when the powerful deity spoke, his voice thundered across the valley's from one horizon to the next. It was that of a stoic commander, a noble leader, and had the gentleness of a father. This being stood the same height as his troops, who donned similar armor though some were made from other materials such as wood or bronze. None had the same golden material as he who stood before the legions of the enemy. Crixus was his name, as we found out later. Crixus' army stood on the ridge of the mountain's boulders and stared down upon us, their enemies. The brown and tan Deerssert God took a few confident steps forward and lifted his head. The noise that followed made our troops' hair stand for there was no other sound like it nor had neither of us heard the likes of it. It was deep and seemed to last an eternity and made even the bravest Deersser's blood run cold. It was not words but rather a sound that would make even a giant freeze in it's tracks. The sound was loud and, one by one, Crixus' troops soon mimicked his war cry. It was then that we knew we'd soon not forget this fight. For this was war.

- The sound described in this quote would sound something similar to this siren alarm.

..>>

Theme Song ;;
The End of the World

[Baby bunnies!]

Reserve

[Hobbit Geek]

{The basic's}
Username: Hobbit Geek
Name: Vladislav (Means "One who rules with glory")
Nickname: Vlad
Gender: Male
Birthday:
Home:

{Digging Deeper}
Voice:
Physical Description:
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Height:
Skills:
Scars:
Likes:
Dislikes:

{Peeking inside the heart}
Personality:
Relationships with others:
Fears:
Dreams:
Strengths:
Weakness's:
Secrets:

{More Information}
How he view's himself:
How other's view him:
Ambition:
Values:

{Other Such things}
Hobbies:
Goals:
Collections:
Preferred Weapons:
Traits:

Art:
1. Headshot by me
2. Banner by me

Huge reserve.. Hope I'm not too late to try for this boy >.<

[Oddly Shaded]

CONGRATZ!

Sorry I haven't judged this, I had completely forgotten until a friendly reminder from Bentley ❤. Anyway congratz!

Huge WIP still.
Also, an important thing to note:
This form talks about Caesar before he died and ascended to deityhood.

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IN HOC SIGNO TAURUS VINCES

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IN THIS SIGN, YOU, THE BULL, WILL WIN

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[img]arthere[/img]

I've always been a man of my word. Doubt me for a moment, and I'll give you good reason to never doubt me again. I was born at the bottom: I crawled, scraped my way to the top. You see these antler spikes? You know what that means, don't you? ...You don't? Step a little closer.

I'm where I am because I worked my way here, like I said. You don't attain this position because you're likable. I don't care if you like me, I don't care if anyone does. Who needs to be likable when you have an army? When you have the world scared? No; anyone who doesn't side with my Legion will be crushed, destroyed, burned.

You come to me and ask me to step down. You threaten to take me down. I've heard enough of this vox populi. There's nothing you can say or do to stop me. It's up to you if you want to be the one burned, or the one doing the burning. Because war... war never changes.

I'm getting tired of talking to you. If you're not here to serve me, then I have no use for you. Leave, Profligate.

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[img]arthere[/img]

Username: Graham
Name: Caesar / God of War
Gender: Male / Truly genderless

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[img]arthere[/img]

Caesar has always been a firestarter; the one who starts the fires, revolutions, movements. He is both what begins the fire and burns it through. In his afterlife, his ascension, he has toned himself down to be the soft whisper that sparks the fire. He's the quiet voice in the back of someone's head that says to start conflict. Caesar is ruthless, manipulative, and cold. While he is not the nicest of deities, he prides himself in being fair and being able to look at his worshipers with a minimal bias. He values loyalty above anything, and those who are loyal to him, those who pledge themselves to his cause, are those who succeed in his world of war. Caesar is a deity of immense power, not easily pushed one way or the other; very stubborn and put in his place. Even before being one, he saw himself as a god; one worthy and deserving of worship; and those who did not worship him deserved to be struck down.

Despite his power and his cold nature, Caesar can be very... well, sweet isn't quite the word, but certainly caring towards those who are loyal to him. He measures people's worth in how they treat him and approach him, and if someone does prove themselves to him, he spoils them and treats them well. His blessings can be plenteous to the right person; granting them the spoils and riches of a war well-won. In modern times, this isn't always a literal war, but often a dispute or person seeking revenge.

Caesar suffers from frequent migraines, and during these episodes, secludes himself. His disciple, Six, will often work as a two-way radio between the god and his worshipers during these times.

ART AND CREDITS
More art to come Esp some by me, haha.
Human by Red on Leopets
Human by Selcouth

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[img]arthere/img]

Six was destined to be Caesar's one and only disciple. Even before Caesar's death, they'd been side by side: partners in crime, leader and follower, commander and lieutenant. Caesar and Six had a unique brother-like bond that was absolutely unquestionable. It only made sense that, after death, their bond would only deepen. Six is known as Caesar's better half, and has a unique relationship with him. Most deities do not take a disciple or have such a personal bond with a non-deity. While Caesar is almost always ill-tempered, he minds his tongue and attitude while Six is around. In the same way, Six can be ruthless, but is soft when around his dear friend.

Six is the only one who has ever seen a soft side to the deity of war, and is the only one who isn't chewed out for the smallest mistake. He's easily the man Caesar trusts with his metaphorical life, and lets his guard down around. In short, Caesar and Six are inseparable, with a bond thicker than blood.

Caesar wasn't always quite the man he's grown to be. His childhood was filled with ups and downs like anyone else's; though he got into quite a bit of trouble with his war-blooded self. He was always a riot-starter, quick to spit in the face of authority. Even before death, it didn't take him long to gather a following, and he took up the role of leader with no objection. He was born to lead; born to direct and watch chaos unfold under his iron fist. No; Caesar was not always as powerful as he is today, but he always had his awful attitude, his lack of care for others, and his god complex. It's only pure irony that, in death, he became a god.

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Caesar has many scars, but his most memorable are ones on his shoulder and the one across his nose-- if only because they were the only ones not from battle. These four scars were a result of surgery, rather. Despite being a very angry, powerful deity, Caesar has not always been so well off.

Caesar's earlier years (while he was still alive) were spent angry, but confined to bed. He was born with a deformed spine; so damaged he couldn't walk without a great deal of pain. When he was five, he was operated on for the first time, resulting in the long scar across his shoulder. He only had a 40% chance of surviving, but his parents deemed it better than him living his life out in misery. The operation was successful, but would only be a temporary fix. The next required surgery was expensive-- too expensive for his family. Feeling they had no other choice, they asked a second-rate doctor to preform the surgery. It went about as well as anyone could expect: he was almost killed in the process, and had to be rushed to a real hospital to stop extreme bleeding. While he was under, they fixed and finished what the doctor was trying to do; successfully this time. For the first time since birth, Caesar could walk; though he spent a good year and a half in recovery. He didn't learn how to walk until he was ten, but by then, he was full of enough anger to run more than anyone else had walked in ten years of life.
With being able to walk came injuries, however. Nothing too major; mostly cuts, scratches, bruises, or burns from playing with Hircine. He did, however, manage to go face-first into a sliding glass door one day. A short ER trip later, glass was removed from his skull and his face; resulting in minor scars on his scalp, and a big scar across his nose.

Despite the scars being a part of his life before he ascended to deityhood, they stuck with his risen body. Deersserts have always seen them as war scars, and he's always been fairly grateful for that.

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WAR TUNES
Music reminiscent of Caesar.
When I Grow Up - Mayday Parade
Ghosts I - Nine Inch Nails
Swallowed by Sin - Those Poor Bastards
Jesus in the Courtyard - King Dude
Liar Liar - Avicii
King Caesar - Head Automatica
Black - Kari Kimmel
Dig, Bury, Deny - Crippled Black Phoenix (ends at 1:00:11)
Barton Hollow - The Civil Wars