A group of battle-hardened veterans. These legendary champions came from all walks of life before banding together in the defense of Terra.
Description
There was a Wheel to be turned for this mortal who spoke against them...
Species: Human
Race: French
Sex: Male
Age: 34
Height: 6ā2
Weight: 210lbs
Eye color: Gray
Hair color: Gray
Skin: Obnoxiously and grossly tan
Alignment: -
Occupation: Multiverse Enforcer
At 6'2 and weighing 210lbs, he's no push over. His black slacks fit easily over his long legs and his chest slightly bulges from his collared gray T which is also pushed wide outward by Din's broad, muscular shoulders. He is the butt of many jokes due to his gray brows and hair. The accompanying gray eyes add to his ghostly stare.
On the top of subject's forearm is an all too familiar emblem (the Gateway icon). The seal of the Higher Lords was marked on his body in plain, black ink, signifying his position.
Personality
"...Child, you know not the tortures which await you. I say come, try, and fail as those before you have... As those beyond you will..."
Characteristics: Best described as chaotic. His immaturity can be mistaken as mental instability, which lends credence to his chaotic nature. Thought patterns resemble that of an angsty teenager. His quirks are plentiful and sporadic. No general trend has been observed in his pet peeves, though patterns do exist. His reactions to said pet peeves are infantile. Even the slightest annoyance can ignite volatility. Because of this, a proper alignment cannot be established.
His speech is dead-pan and perhaps off-the-wall, but there is more to his words than only face value.
Despite his occupation which should ordinarily deliver with it a classification of Face or Super Face, his brash nature leads many to consider him to be a shame to his title and, for all intents and purposes, crooked.
His overall demeanor is angry; intimidating to the meek and friction to the bold. Brusque as he is, he does not consume alcohol.
In short. Dinaeus Remey is a loose canon.
Equipment
"I hope," Dinaeus began calmly, a subtle indignant tone slowly rising as he turned from his seat to face the monster, "...you've made your last testaments." A piece of the bar counter snapped in his vice-grip. He rose to his feet. "Because I'm going to break your [[i]bleep] skull."[/i]
Skills:
Having traversed many lands in many times, Dinaeus has learned to cope with the difficulty of survival in a world with āotherā types of beings by becoming an expert acrobat and hand-to-hand combatant. Although he is proficient in the use of bladed and projectile weapons, they are not his chief choice of weaponry.
Wherever it cannot be avoided, Din can harness the power of what is cryokinesis at face value. His prowess is quite rudimentary.
Contrary to popular belief, Din has an angelic singing voice and a good ear for music.
History
"...shall this mortal choose a path and render the one I have set for him asunder?"
-Fate
Traversing many planets and time periods, Din is a wanderer; collecting skills, knowledge and experience in his own walk through life. His brash and cavalier attitude has lead him to join secret organizations. Other lives have been placed in his blundering hands. He has held Artifacts older than himself, walked into the dreams of broken minds, and even had a skirmish with the motive force of the universe as we know it. To this point, he is not dearth of experience. He has returned from an inexplicable absence to rethrow the world out of balance.
So begins...
Dinaeus lifts his head to look at Kreeko, his massive arms crossed over his chest. He turns his head to see the other one.
Dinaeus Upon entering the dojo, Din opted to leave his shoes on, unconcerned about the disrespect such an act conveyed. Walking across the room to the side opposite the door, he pressed his fists together, an act accompanied by a series of cracks. He stopped and turned around, waiting for the arrival of his opponent. His hands were uncharacteristically covered with fingerless gloves made purely of leather and synthetic material. He didn't enjoy wearing such things, but he noted how it improved his grip.
Dinaeus After standing in his place for a very silent minute, an extended breath slipped by Din's lips. His right foot moved behind the left, toes pressed against the top of the heel. Lifting his left heel from the shoe, his head turned to a spot on the rafters where a nearly indiscernible figure sat. Much swifter than would have typically been expected of a man his size, Din 's left leg shot up to the side, his shoe flying of his foot in the direction of the cloaked person who could only have been his opponent. "What the hell are you doing?"
Dinaeus He kept his face in the direction of the woman as she dropped from her initial position. Noting the flash in her eyes, Din nearly smiled, turning his body to face her. His eyes darted to the figure protruding from behind her. No matter, thought he, rotating his right arm until it cracked as he approached her.. The stale taste of a draw was still in his mouth after his last bout. It wasn't that he didn't win so much as he could have. "I hope you got your prayers in. This probably won't feel pleasant." Upon reaching an appropriate distance, well within reach of her weapon, he sidestepped to his right and leaned, lowering his body, bending it at the knees and slightly at the waist. Simultaneously he raised his hands in a guard stance, forearms vertical and sent his left foot swiftly at the front of the woman's right ankle.
Dinaeus He planted his foot on the ground after missing his first blow, legs bent nearly 120 degrees. Now he took a skip step forward, feet lifting off the ground only an inch or so, not allowing his opponent a break, and sent the same attack at her ankle in nearly the same position, however, this time with slightly more speed and power behind the kick to the woman's ankle.
Dinaeus ran quickly at his opponent. Before reaching striking range, Din slammed his right foot against the ground and sidestepped, advancing slightly, just ins triking range from right to left, leaning his weight on his left leg and sent a swift kick with his right foot to the front of Peter's left ankle. Both hands were raised, hands curled into fists and elbows pointing downward at a slight outward angle.
Dinaeus Peter shot at Din. As a human, he was unable to dodge bullets and so lost his life.
Dinaeus "Up yours." Were his last words
Dinaeus Sand crunched under his dress shoes in a continuous beat of "swishing," sand parting and falling about the shoes with each footfall. He continued inching closer and closer to the horizon haltingly, sand caving in and shaping itself around polished shoe. The orange and rosy colored sun reflected against the shiny gray hair that hung in individual clumps flattened and contrasted against his tan forehead. Black orbs sat before his eyes attached by pieces of metal on over the bridge of his narrow nose. The legs shone individually as they reached from his eyes to the back of his ears. Presently, he dropped a black coat to the sand. Grains jumped onto the jacket and more were propelled onward by the wind produced. He ceased his onward march. A bead of sweat crawled along his collarbone a seeped down into the crest of his large pectorals, eventually soaking into the sweat stained collared shirt about the collar.
Dinaeus A gloved hand slid easily into a wide pocket on the side as Dinās head craned up to see the turmoil in the sky. It was a good sign that his opponent was so ballsy as to fly so close to the ground (I hope this is alright) as the day neared to dusk. As the sky continually darkened, it proved to be quite the spectacle to see the series of explosions that erupted up in the air. The glossy, black orbs that sat before a set of gray irises reflected the clashing fireballs in the sky. A sigh passed through his lips as the aircraft which apparently shot 3 missiles caught on fire and began a dive toward the shore. Despite the apparent eminent doom of his opponent, Din began sliding his feet from the dress shoes, his socked feet sinking deeper into the sand than his shoes. If this guy was going to be a worthwhile challenge, then Din was sure heād make it out of the accident.
Dinaeus Both feet bare in the sand now, granules pouring inbetween his toes, Din watched, somewhat impressed as the stranger dove from his vehicle. And so he lived. There was no indication of satisfaction on Dinās face as he beheld his sopping opponent standing before him. A scenario of the impending battle ran through the bulky manās mind as he lifted an arm to remove the shades that sat, perched on the bridge of his nose, a leg sandwiched between his fingers. After pulling the glasses off, he tossed them aside as he anticipated the shutting down of this James Bond meets Rambo wannabe. The time was drawing near for Dinās thirst for battle to be sated. Moving his legs, pulling the ground beneath his opponents feet closer to him, Din spoke. āIf I had been pursuing you, I donāt think you would be laughing.ā When he entered striking distance with his opponent, his left forearm crossed over his chest, elbow pointed outward diagonally. He bent his legs at the knees and pushed forward with his left and swung a right hook across his op
Dinaeus Both feet bare in the sand now, granules pouring inbetween his toes, Din watched, somewhat impressed as the stranger dove from his vehicle. And so he lived. There was no indication of satisfaction on Dinās face as he beheld his sopping opponent standing before him. A scenario of the impending battle ran through the bulky manās mind as he lifted an arm to remove the shades that sat, perched on the bridge of his nose, a leg sandwiched between his fingers. After pulling the glasses off, he tossed them aside as he anticipated the shutting down of this James Bond meets Rambo wannabe. The time was drawing near for Dinās thirst for battle to be sated. Moving his legs, pulling the ground beneath his opponents feet closer to him, Din spoke. āIf I had been pursuing you, I donāt think you would be laughing.ā When he entered striking distance with his opponent, his left forearm crossed over his chest, elbow pointed outward diagonally. He bent his legs at the knees and pushed forward with his left and swung a right hook across his op
Dinaeus As his young opponent leaned back, Din merely continued to push into the boy's belly, thus as he leaned back, the force applied would convert from an outward motion to a downward motion, the initial power from the blow would become multiplied by the force of gravity. That coupled with the pilot now standing on one leg would surely force the man onto his back especially without a solid surface to stand on. Falling as such, a dramatic decrease in the power of his opponent's snap kick would occur. Nonetheless, Din dropped his left hand, opening it in order to catch the in bound leg at the ankle.
Dinaeus Din saw no reason for the smirk on his opponentās face just moments earlier, in those minute moments he concluded that either the guy had quite a bit of skill or else he was a damned fool. The latest development didnāt work in debunking the former. With his opponent forcing himself to the ground, Din had no reason to continue pushing, not that he could because his arm would not reach. As the boyās in bound leg (which turned out to be the left) continued in its course, Din successfully caught it with his left hand. Wrapping his thick fingers tightly about the boys shin, his fingers pressing into the fat and muscle of the calf, he simultaneously turned his body, at the legs, to the left by performing a half spin on the heels of both feet while bending both legs to absorb the shock of the strike (impossible as it was). With his body lowering to add power to his strike, Din swung his right arm in a diagonal strike from his own right down to the left, aiming at the pilotās knee while also pulling the captured leg upward for a
Dinaeus additional effect.
Dinaeus The pale moonlight poured its alabaster light onto the coarsely textured dry surface and ever changing wet surface, which bounced an ever shifting, broken, oblong reflection of the white orb back into the sky. As the gentle breeze coursed through the atmosphere, sand particles were lifted into the air, smaller ones lifted higher into the air. Tiny pieces of glass floated about like the stars above them, shining with a small light that seemed their own. The majesty of their flight was interrupted by a figure which blended well with the dark, speckled blanket overhead. A leather coat cast vague reflections of the light, a chest the color of the sand protruded from it, on top of which shone a gleaming silver cross. Behind a pair of shades, admittedly dumb given the circumstances, a pair of irises changed in size as pupils dilated, sitting on the image of a woman on the beach. His trot, footsteps muffled, did not cease as the un safe situation became clear in his mind. However, he still approached.
Dinaeus 'neath the sounds of jovial laughter and deep malice, clinking of mugs and the exchange of money, hollow footsteps beat rhythmically against the hard floor, a simple, easy beat played for what time it took for the man to enter the pub. Without even a glance about, Din proceeded to the bar, his gaze fixed on an empty stool. Although, as a wanderer, he often took note of his surroundings, nothing, oddly enough, interested him at the moment, so he sat, apparently uninterrupted at the bar, asking for gin and leaning his head on his large forearms, which sat, one ontop of the other, on the bar.
Dinaeus Above, or rather between spurts of noise, Din believed he'd caught the sound of violin strings vibrating against a bow. Rather than looking to see, he knocked back his drink and sat back. Alas, he turned his head, for none other than the sight of an apparent violinist. He spun from his seat and moved fluidly onto his feet and stepped across the surface before the man. "Why is it that you play that," he paused before stepping back, opening the rest of the view of the bar for the violin player (Joker) to see. "here?"
Dinaeus As he stepped aside for Joker to see, Din himself saw. For one moment, it was as if there was no time to breathe, no time to live, as if his own life had been a waste. But only for a moment. Fear, Din had reasoned in the past, makes people do unreasonable things. He had no reason to fear the apparent ramblings of the violinist, nor did he have any reason to fear the men-in-black. He nearly chuckled at how amusing the thought was. Nearly.
"Well what would they want with a violin player?" He said, cautiously turning his head to face the man.
Dinaeus His brows furrowed after the object of his attention's response. A petty thing to be angered over, but Din was a man who liked his questions answered. As he weighed out chances and played out consequences, he sized up the man one good time before stepping back. "I think you're mad." The words passed his lips taking on a tone that reflected the indifference on Din's face. Bland, tasteless, but expecting nonetheless. "You're as mad as a hatter."
Dinaeus For the most part, anyone who'd tried their hand at a conversation with Din had found that he was rather blunt, so it's no mystery that he travels alone. He looked on, impassively, at the mad violinist and he resumed speaking. "I think your music sucks, mad man." He paused leaning in, not that it made much of a difference. "And I would like it if you played your garbage music for your change somewhere else."
Dinaeus As the high pitched noise rung out, Din blinked. There was no apparent anger, nor the normally accompanying grimace lines to make their home on his face for any amount of time. Though it beckoned, Din would not take heed to pure rage. Afterall, it was a mad man he was dealing with, it's not like anything he said or did needed to make sense. Din lifted his hand, very calmly, in order to still the bow.
Dinaeus "No?" Din asked, derision riding in his voice as he began speaking mockingly at the mad man. He stared at the end of the bow in the violinist's hands, the other end was out of his field of view as it barely touched Din's neck (recall that he's stepped back). He stepped to his right, the bow's end now resting on air rather than his neck. "A man and his violin could easily move outside."
