A place online I used to hang out at a lot is a chat called Impurus. Then I kinda... Left. Now I don't really talk to anyone from there, save imma and that's normally only about TtR stuff...Not that I regret leaving per say and until recently I haven't been back, though I still have it on my favorites tab and visit every now and again. Being an anon can have its perks, aha.
But um yeah, they do RP tournaments called breaking point and they can be fun to read live. Though often the responses can take hours and they happen when I'm asleep what with different time zones and all. SO I shall be posting some of my fav lines from the tournament in here so I can find them some point in the future... Or something. ( Most will be from Imma as he's such a good writer) ( or all of them... )
"A grin crept over his face, his red eyes shimmering.
My, you seem rather edgy. I hope you're not nervous.
Raising his sword in a diagonal fashion, the sheath dispersed into black cinders and exposed the straight blade as it ignited with red fire.-
I always allow my opponent the first move. Consider me the black chess piece, and you the white." - Imma
“It’s been so long since I’ve fought someone using a scutum. The make-up is different, but I’m sure the fighting principles are the same. I bet I knew some stern Roman who could’ve taught you how to use one properly, but alas, I probably scorched him and his entire legion to the ground. Have you ever seen a man screaming to get out of his armour as it dripped hot down his body? Not pleasant.” - Imma
Immaculus had fought a great deal of warriors in his long life: some faster than him, some smarter, some reckless, but no matter what class of fighter he faced, he couldn’t remember the last time one of them willingly entered his aura’s three metre parameter.
“Oh dear…” - Imma
“Ever seen a boy burn an ant under a magnifying glass? Well, you’re right under my lens.” - Imma
-He watched as Immaculus’ arm moved to release what was likely a wave of fire judging by the energy building up in the blade. Fast – very fast – but not enough. Isaac swung his clenched left fist forward in a simple straight, a sphere of wind rushing into the centre of the flames, picking up sand from below as it moved to form a track from where the energy had moved. The sand, gathering in the ball of intense air, turned to glass as it passed into the heat that rolled off of the flames; creating a football-sized globule of molten glass.- - Zen
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