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This Looking For RP topic is marked as closed, meaning it is no longer seeking new players.

((Heyo. Been very busy lately. However, I had a bit of free time so I decided I would propose a plot. If any of you are interested in this plot, feel free to private message me to let me know. Thank you. ^-^))

The war has been going on for years. It first started as a disagreement between two brothers. They were no ordinary brothers. These two were Astralites. They were extraordinary beings who have been around since before recorded history. They lived as both spirits and humans. Their dispute was over their third brother. His arrival was to be soon.They were both scared as they knew not his power nor his intentions as they have been separated a long time. What they did know, however, was that he was not restricted by morals and that he was the most feared of the three brothers.

The brothers came together to discuss how they would be able to combat him if he was, in fact, coming with the intention of harming the world. One brother said to fight simply with their prowess in combat. The other said to use cleverness to try and outsmart him. As neither of them came to an agreement, they decided a way for them to prove which strategy would work. They would face off against each other until one of them proved victorious, that one would spearhead any countermeasures against the return of the third brother.

At the start of this, both brothers had recruited twenty of earth’s most extraordinary people to aid them in the challenge. The dispute had escalated to the point where there were deaths on both sides. Then it escalated even further to the point where even those not involved in the dispute were injured and even killed. It became an international concern, but no nation had dared to even attempt to hinder either side as they knew of the Astralites and the importance of being able to defeat the third brother if he was, in fact, coming with ill intentions.

Eventually, both sides in this quarrell were left with only two of the recruited people left alive. On the side of Y, the brother who chose cleverness over fighting skill, was a man who lived long past his time and a boy blessed with the blood of dragons. On the side of X, the brother who was confident that his fighting skill was all he needed to prevail, was a spirit of a race long extinct and a man who has the blood of dragons and the power of demons. On neither side was a young male raised by the wise men of the mountains who sought only to protect those who had no interest in the quarrell.

There was one particular day, however, that this war began to take a turn. They had received information that YOU would be there and that YOU were someone who could change the direction of the war in favour of one side and end it once and for all. The clever brother, the man out of his time and the dragon boy strolled into an isolated unnamed town with a population of less than 200. “Well,” said the man blessed with longevity. His voice was coarse and reminiscent of a time in America which outlaws ran free. He wore blue jeans, a red scarf, a stetson hat as well as a vest. On either side of him were strapped two Colt Single Action Army six shooter revolver pistols. “I reckon that they ain’t know we here yet. With any luck, they ain’t never gonna know. Let’s just get what we came for and scram.” “Hush lad,” hissed the leader of the group. His voice that of those found in the Emerald Isle of Ireland. He wore a noose around his neck, though it was not attached to anything. On his body were bandages wrapped from his neck down to his toes, though most of them were covered by his three piece suit and tie accompanied by his brown trench coat, “Ya had to go and jynx us, boy? Alright’ya. Steady your aim and prepare your hands to shoot. I feel them nearby.” “Shhhh-...” He stopped himself from cursing and threw his hat on the floor in frustration, “Ryu, get that sword read-....The hell did Ninja boy go?” “He’s being smart. I suggest you pick up your damned hat and do the same.”

After this statement, a loud bang was heard. Bursting through the wall of a building was thrown the boy blessed with the blood of dragons. “Yare yare…” he groaned as he got up, holding his head. He then removed a red cloth which covered the sheath of a blade on his back. He placed his hand on the hilt of the blade, preparing to unsheathe it. He began chanting softly to relax himself as he stared into the cloud of dust which was formed as a result of him being thrown through the wall. “Rin, Pyo, To, Sha, Kai, Jin….” His chanting was interrupted as a man with hair whiter than snow emerged out of the nothingness to his right and whispered into his ear the remainder of the chant, “Retsu, Zai, Zen….” before delivering a blow to the boy’s side with the flat side of his blade. From the sound this impact caused, he seemed to have broken a few ribs. “Ninja’s down!” the gunslinger which stood next to Y shouted as he pulled out one of his six shooters before Y shook his head to tell him to hold his fire. The boy which had gotten hit fell to his knees holding his side in pain, crying out. His cry then transformed from that of pain to that of rage as his pupils became slits, his teeth sharpened like that of a dog’s, his ears pointed and, the most noticeable feature of all, a black tail emerged from his body. This tail grabbed at the white-haired man’s ankle and yanked at it, causing him to fall. The boy mounted the man and the two began to grapple at each other for a while.

While this was going on, two men stepped out from the dust of the broken wall. One was dressed in the armour of an age in Chinese history now long gone. His hair was straight and black, tied into a ponytail. For a weapon he had a spear which radiated an ethereal aura. Next to him came out a man with hair as golden as the sun, flowing down to his waist. His clothes looked rather royal and green and he wore on his finger a ring with an otherworldly stone in it which seemed to be connected to him through a manner unable to be comprehended by humans. He had, on his side, the hilt of a blade which appeared very crude. The most noticeable features on this man were how tall he was as well as his knife-like ears.

“Brother,” said X to Y, “I did not think you would seek THEM out. That is rather underhanded of you.” His voice was heavily accented with his ancient Chinese upbringing, much like how Y’s was accented with his Irish upbringing. “Aye. Neither did I. Good on ya for figuring it out. I only decided that I would do this very recently as I figure I had no other option.” “Well, brother,” responded X, “since you have decided to come here and retrieve for yourself another asset, it seems as I will have to take it from you before you have a chance to use it. Al’Athon, deal with the gunslinger.” In acknowledgement, the golden-haired knife ear nodded. X then walked off in search of the person his brother had come for. Y looked at the gunslinger questioningly, as if his eyes were asking him if he could manage the task before him. In return, the gunslinger tipped his stetson and faced Al’Athon.

Y had begun running off in the direction his brother had gone while the gunslinger spoke to his soon-to-be opponent. “Hope their ain’t no bad blood between us here, Al.” “My name is Al’Athon,” said the knife-ear in response, “and, no, Deadeye, there ‘ain’t’. We simply have different views on what must be done to preserve this world. I say that this war is a necessary evil to see which view is more correct than the other.” “Well,” said Deadeye with a chuckle, “Reckon since neither of us can really die for good, ain’t no reason to hold back none.” “I would not hold back even if you could die forever.” With this, Deadeye chuckled once more before becoming serious. He stared at his enemy, the fingers on his right hand wiggling as they hovered over the revolver on the corresponding side. In an instant, he drew it, fired one shot from his hip and causing the lead from the shot to land in the eye of the male before him. Al’Athon did not cry out, but he did put his hand over his eye. He smiled at this and spoke, “The tales of your accuracy and speed do not do you justice, Irial. I am pleased to be able to face you.” In response to Deadeye’s attack, Al’Athon had used a form of magic to wrap the root of a tree around his legs before pulling it down into the ground. This caused him to get pulled with it, and his entire lower body to sink underneath the ground. He ensured to raise his arm when this was happening so as to keep his hand with his gun above ground for when he needed to shoot.

In the midst of this, the two brothers ran around the town, practically racing each other to find the one they were looking for, though neither of them knew a physical description of the person, they knew they would sense them once they saw them. Unknown to them, the boy raised by the monks was also there at the time, following them. He had set all the townspeople aside, corralling them into the town’s church, the safest place he knew of. He simply watched the two from the rooftops of buildings, only intent on interfering if they posed a threat to any innocent person. He did not know who they were after nor why they were after them, but that was not his concern.
Magic 70%
Magic is fairly common. Players and NPCs important to the tale may have it. Mistborn.
Technology 50%
Modern
Combat 70%
More combat than not. The setting may be at war, and the characters will likely get involved whether or not they seek it out.

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