The Ronin's Rest (CVU Location)

One of Japan's oldest cities, the Ronin's Rest was historically synonymous with the fabled Samurai of Feudal Japan. Once famous for its unique markets and peerless atmosphere, a city which would stop and watch the timeless sight of the sunset with captivated eyes, it was truly a wonder of the world. Now synonymous with crime, poverty, and corruption. The Gothic City of Japan, some have called it, the Decaying City...The City of the dishonored. Harboring some of the most elusively kept secrets of the ancient bloodlines which once ruled Japan, The Decaying City is a feeble shadow of its former self. Nobody visits the city anymore. Those who are imprisoned within its horrendous confines are entrapped in poverty and destitution, having no will to escape the clutches of its turmoil, no honor remains amongst the dwellers, the way of the warrior? Forgotten. Bushido and the ancient, fabled traditions tarnished by the sight of rampant crime. Murder and rape are not an uncommon sight to stain the city streets. The mutilated remains of a rival gang littered across of the once praiseworthy streets are a sightly occurrence...But to those who wish to see it for themselves?

All major religion was purged from the city. All honor, nobility and principle abandoned. Those who now survive in the urban slums are usually found in one of the three biggest zones...

...The First; The market place

Once known throughout the world for its lavish perfumes, exotic fruit and unequaled swordsmanship, now host to infected foods and rampant with a lively criminal crowd of ruthless pickpockets. Sharing none of the noble traits which their ancestors' shared to survive, the only trait needed now being sleight of hand to rob an unassuming shopper or the trait to intimidate and rob, the police force is nonexistent, nobody dare risk their lives against the crime lords who govern the settlements within....And those who do? Well, none have lived to tell their tale....Yet.

...The Second: The workers region

The city dwellers living space, not too horrible, at least, in comparison, home to the entire populace of around 2 million, cramped into the space which should only house around half of that number. The workers region is by far the nicest area of the city, sealed off from the rest by a gigantic stone wall at night by The Daimyo himself to preserve what little peace is left and avert (some) criminals from entering. These are the people which keep the city's dying economy alive day after day, like a robotic machine too entranced and brainwashed by life to ever question where they live and why they accept such treatment...But the real reason, is much more sinister.

And last, and by all means least: The contaminated slums

Home to the dregs of society, long since have they lost their humanity and in place they isolate themselves within it's horrendous confines, the water runs warm with the stale stank of blood and recently shed guts, the vermin...Or gangs, who control this urban underworld care not for their own health, merely what girl they will sell next to the highest bidder to fund their latest drug fix. This slum was once home to a great Samurai warlord who was spoken to be Japan's greatest, most compassionate man....

...How the mighty region has fallen.

The Ronin's Nest

A living homestead to an ancient relic (and now the New COP's), the humble abode of The Daimyo himself, a man tasked with defending the city for over 1000 years - Kenshin Yoshida - Who for the last 1000 years has devoted his life to the noble cause of defending, helping, and selflessly sacrificing his own existence for the city...The Last Samurai of the region, the only man in a city of millions to believe in the way of the samurai, in nobility, honor and trust. For 1000 years the devote defender has safeguarded the city. In the last 300, he has been unable to combat the plague of crime, the cancer of poverty, and the terror of the criminal warlords. In time, the Daimyo grew desperate, his heart hurt at the sight of his population suffering, day after day, night after night without relent.

Kenshin had to take action...The city dwellers lived in their poverty with no chance of escape. Yet non quarreled? None questioned why it was impossible to find a cure? Some could account this as them giving up, others, as them accepting their fate. But the real reason is far more sinister...Over 200 years ago Kenshin sought out a band of demons, begging them for help, the defender merely wanted his people to live in happiness, without fear of murder, rape, or even starvation. The demons accepted...In return for each inhabitants soul. Kenshin had no choice but to agree, condemning his city to a city of soulless, but happy residents. Ignorant to the world around them, forever bound by a deal which they had no knowledge of, living within a perpetual nightmare, yet thinking themselves in a dream.

• Standard CVU rules apply.
• Any inquiries, PM Cormac or my main Pyrogram.

Yes!

@the_last_samurai:

Jack starts a good day by taking a man in the contaminated slums, fitting a human torso on one both hands as he ate him as one would eat a sandwich.

Amazing work man! I'm excited now.

@ult_nerx: Eat a shark? Jack is extreme xD

@dark_vengeance_: @the_umbra_sorcerer: Thanks, let's hope it works :P

@the_last_samurai: orcas eat them too, he likes orcas [plus the girl in venz isn't dead, its just a daydream]

...That's pretty hardcore O_o

@ult_nerx: Daydream of dying? >.>

Haha xD

@the_last_samurai:

Any chance I can have Skjovald visit? He seems the best choice for something like this.

...Or I might expand on Tarbyrian, the dishonored Asgardian war criminal.

I don't know :P

@last_man_standing: Sure. Send anyone! Let's see what Tarbyria has to offer, may be fun.

@the_last_samurai: he ate another shark, they taste good.

well the whole eating the head before 'she reacts' thing never happened, its just daydream from hunger. so we can continue the part where he is about to eat VLA elite

@ult_nerx: I would, but Xenon has bored me somehow. Post here and we'll do something if you wanted to write.

@the_last_samurai:

Long ago, a man died and went to Valhalla.

He had won his honor in death and the gods rewarded his valor in battle with endless feasting, fighting, and the pleasures of the angelic Valkyries. Einherjar, they called him, the victorious dead. Though the gifts were heaped upon him, and the eternal fight preparing for Ragnarok kept his sword-arm strong, nothing could bring Tarbyrian joy in this otherwise heavenly afterlife. The gods chose him to die, such was the mission of the Valkyries to retrieve him from the bloodied field. Yet he did not ask to die. He wanted to return home, and continue fighting. His heart was still young, and his son would grow up alone in the world, told the lie that his father died a valiant death before he was even born. More than Valhalla, he wanted to hold his newborn child and embrace his lover and wife in the irreplaceable joy of parenthood.

Perhaps that is what drove him to seek out a way into Midgard. Of course, such an act was treated as desertion. After all, he was now an einherjar in Odin's army for the Apocalypse. He couldn't just throw down his sword and shield for love. He found no reprieve from the haunting dungeons of Asgard for what seemed like an eternity afterwards.

But the portal to Midgard did open. He heard rumor of an elusive green gem having been taken into custody by a 'Doom' fellow. His accumulated power seemed to rip miniscule holes across time and space. It didn't matter now. The downtrodden and dishonored "war criminal" of Asgard leaped through the cosmic doorway at the first opportunity.

A warrior with no sworn master, living or dead, plummeted to Earth - banished from Heaven and Hell by honor and a love long dead - frozen, in the bays of the Ronin's Rest.

Midgard's touch gripped his chest like a hand of ice, keeping his heart from beating at any temperature above absolute zero. He gasped for air and inhaled salt water, the first real intake of anything remotely close to ingestible liquid he had for hundreds - maybe thousands - of years. Yet it brought him no comfort as his lungs spasmed, and his diaphragm tried desperately to compensate for the pain by antagonizing the invading bay water. Drowning, dragged down by his own plate armor, destined to die again. Perhaps it was his destiny to be an einherjar and fight forever while his family disintegrated in a forgotten tomb.

No.

His eyes burned with an unforeseen fury. He had already died. He could never go back to Asgard willingly, not to fight for those who took his life away from him in the first place. Tarbyrian finally found solid ground to walk on after drifting into the murky abyss for a few minutes. Schools of fish followed him, intrigued by the latest development in their habitat before sensing trouble and darting away in a synchronized panic. Tarbyrian kept pressing onward, following the incline, until his face and broad shoulders breached the surface. Sounds unfamiliar to him kept him aware of the sudden nexus of details flowing into his senses, and to almost nothing else.

The stomach that endured hundreds of mugs toasted to the honor of the golden hall now twisted in agony as two lungfuls of oceanic debris forced its way back out, squeezed by the arcane power of undeath haunting Tarbyrian's footsteps like liquid from a sponge. His insides burned, but with a cold fire. No heat would come to him now, not even when his blood boiled or his organs pulsated in sublime agony. It was all cold.

But, awakened in this new world, he could at last have some small amount of closure since he did not spend every waking second in chains.

@thisisgonnahurt: Badass. I'll reply very soon, just eating something lol

@thisisgonnahurt:

"Do you require assistance?" A noble voice was heard, breaking the silence as the words traveled through the air and slithered into Tarbyrian's ears. "Who are you, and where are you from?" The Samurai asked as his footsteps could be heard, quickly pacing towards the individual, one hand on his onyx hilt, the other rubbing the stubble on his chin, he smiled and greeted the newcomer. "My name is Kenshin, how did you come to be here, how did you rise from the ocean?" The Samurai was curious, it was rare for a newcomer such as this one, very rare.

I think I should post something here.

@_sawyer_: Sure! Anytime. PM me if you need an idea or anything.

@the_last_samurai: I will when I have any good sir.

@the_last_samurai:

The icy blue eyes of the undead Norseman, imprisoned by pain, were hard-pressed to focus on the man who offered so many questions for a mind already plagued with them. Tarbyrian composed what he could out of his dehydrated and starved posture, the thick armor locking him inside keeping him from doing much of anything in his pathetic state.

"Tarbyrian," he began, compiling bits and pieces of English he learned from those honored dead who spoke it back in Valhalla. His memory faded into a haze, however.

"Asgard. Darkness, then this place," he seemingly rambled, but his mind had been cleared of the initial shock of interdimensional travel. He spoke in the fragments commonly spoken by the newly appointed einherjar, fragments which he easily learned due to their frequency.

"I want to go home."

@the_last_samurai:

~ Venezuela

It appears that the VLA elite has indeed entered the ruins, he has entered camouflage to blend into the urban environment to mold. One with the scenery as he stuck to the ceiling.

@_sawyer_: Sure!

@ult_nerx: (Can you do a post (or just agree) and say that you're harming a citizen of this country? Kinda don't wanna write any venz stuff much lol)

@thisisgonnahurt:

"My pleasure to meet you, Tarbyrian," Folding his palms behind of his authentically garbed back, the Samurai's face lit up with curiosity. "Asgard, hmm, the realm of the Gods?" The Devote Defender had seen Gods in his time, and he had seen sadness. Something which this man looked to be suffering from. "Home, my friend, where is home, Asgard?".

@the_last_samurai:

The devourer has entered the working district, and is causing havoc by setting a building alight with military-grade wasabi.

can i we make the eating thing over there canon though?

@ult_nerx: One of the villagers decide to try and stop the devourer, jumping onto his back whilst clutching a katana, attempting to impale his spine.

You can make it canon here :) And military-grade wasabi man? haha

"Look, I don't have any money, and I don't speak Japanese!" Tommy snapped at a particularly suicidal group of gang members. There were eleven of them, three with knives, four with handguns. Easy as cake. They didn't understand his English tongue, and kept gesturing for his small satchel that would've contained coins, had the Radioactive Rebel been more responsible with his gambling.

Tommy growled at them menacingly, out of his vibranium suit and in some Japanese garb he had stolen from a nice merchant. Maybe that was why they thought he had cash. Raising the bamboo hat he wore so he could see them better, he glared with his blue eyes as he shifted positions, getting in an all too familiar wing chun position, as they charged.

The gang members were smarter than they looked- rushing at him, the gunmen fired first. Sidestepping the bullets with grace, his fists glowed bright orange as he sent a few punches flying at the gang member who first decided to take him on. Strike to the chest, then the jugular, finally a punch to the back of the head. The combo worked like a puzzle, fitting perfectly with each other as the Japanese gang member dropped to the ground with a thud.

Hearing another come at him, he slammed his foot down on the tip of the knife the man he had beaten dropped, sending it flying up into the air for him to catch. Swirling around, Tommy stabbed the pocketknife into the wrist of the person about to stab him, and used his body as a shield for the next barrage of bullets. Disgusted by the blood covering him, he kicked the body he carried toward the next two melee combatants and threw his knife at a gunman's gun. The throw was all too perfect, as it lodged itself right through the barrel.

The next five came like a storm, thinking they could overpower him. Charging his fists up to an extreme, he swung at the first person to challenge him, sending him flying through a nearby wall. The others hesitated- scared of the scar-faced man, but he used that to his advantage, grabbing one and slamming his head into another's oncoming fist, then sending a kick flying toward one's ribs- breaking them like it was paper. He felt a bullet graze his shoulder, but luckily that area was heavily padded in armor.

The remaining people stopped, afraid. Tommy held his hands out, offering up a challenge, before he realized what they were scared of. Turning to face the eight foot tall robotic man walking up to them, he smiled.

"Darling, where were you?" He said, as the chest of the suit opened. Getting in, the doors closed, and Tommy let all his radiation out, sighing in relief as the padded insides protected him. Then, faster than the human eye can see, he grabbed his huge pistol and shot the rest of them down. Pretending to breathe on the smoke coming from the barrel of the gun, he turned and walked down the alley. He kinda liked this place.

@the_last_samurai:

Tarbyrian, at last, regained his posture. The curse of undeath faded from his blood, and his skin and hair returned to a fairer glow, yet the cold breath on his neck never disappeared. He could bring information to bear with better ease as the effect the dungeons of Asgard placed upon him retreated into little more than a hideous memory. But, as all memories are wont to do, the effects could only be delayed for so long - and at what price? Tarbyrian did not know, but for now he happened upon a friendly face for the first time in more than a thousand years.

"My home is not Asgard," he replied in confidence. "It lies beyond this horizon, where the cold winds of winter chill the earth upon their first step in the dance of nature," he did not know how to phrase 'Arctic Circle,' considering his limited knowledge of Midgard outside of his medieval homeland.

"I...Kenshin, where am I?"

@the_last_samurai: He is unaware, because the stench of the military-grade wasabi is stronger than mustard gas. It is an effective nerve agent, for him it is kid stuff but it is enough to put werewolves or vampires on a spasmodic fit. He felt an odd feeling on his back, but in this range the effects of the wasabi would be too dangerous.

Now: At The Contaminated Slums

I shot too high once and it got me locked up in a jail considered inescapable. I escaped, but that's it. That's all my luck for this year... I ran away to the only place I figured no man hunters would even consider chasing me to.

So now here I am swimming in sh*t. Literally. Which is probably the quote on the postcards of this place.

I thought I could just pick up a job somewhere in the city and lay low for a little while, but no. There are no jobs and I'm too much trouble for the upper class, which back at home would be considered the lower class. They threw my dumba*s out like the rest of the trash. I thought about fighting back and just taking a home by siege, but I'm still in no condition to fight after the prison escape. Also I heard there was some ancient samurai who would swoop down and dice my a*s. Which sounds like an old wife's tale, but last thing I need is another heinous beat down. F*cking Sha.

So for now, here I lay with the lowest of the low. Broken both physically and mentally. I probably should have just stayed in jail, but I'm too bold for my own good. Let's face the facts folks. I deserve this, because as it turns out, no one is better at punishing me then myself.

@thisisgonnahurt:

"You are in Japan my friend, The Ronin's Rest, to be precise, a city filled with crime. Truthfully, my home is not a nice place. This city, is infected" It pained him to speak the truth, but as a samurai, he was bound by his own moral code and law to speak only the truth. "But I am it's guardian. And I am your humble servant," bowing before the man, he served all whom required help. Looking back up into the pained mans eyes, he gestured his head over to the side, "let us walk, let me take you to my home, you must be cold" He inquired, "I will fetch you some tea?".

@_atomikill_:

"You are very skilled..." The words echoed through the alleyway as they invaded Tommy's hearing with their calmness. "But reckless," The samurai stepped out from the shadows and blocked the mans path. His right hand touching his onyx hilted sword, his left rubbing his stubble. "You do not seem native, where are you from?" The devote defender inquired with a curious tone.

-

@powerplug: (That was badass, want me to respond somehow?)

@the_last_samurai:

Tommy wasn't the least bit intimidated by the voice- in fact, he was overcome with joy to hear another person speak English. Not letting his joy show through his suit, he turned to face the Samurai as he set a hand lightly on his gun, as he noticed the samurai's hand on his own sword.

"America. Specifically, Gothic City. Came for some bounty. And I save my better fighting skills for when I'm facing a better opponent." He said carefully.

The random fighter was immune due to his regeneration factor. Jumping off however, as he felt a little dizzy, he threw his Katana, aiming for the man's solar plexus.

@the_last_samurai:

Some of his Yokai friends that used the services of Hero Eclipse to obtain human meat arrived on spot, as their scheduled sashimi party is on time. The Oni cannot help but see the event organiser getting stabbed by food, they laughed at the irony before revealing their tetsubo cudgels. One of the ogre's taking a swing at the puny head of the man, an iron mass moving at high velocities to crack open brain-yolk.

One of the oni shouted at Jack, the monster turned around and Grind caught the katana. Swallowing the blade with glee as it took no time devouring the weapon like a strip of dried nori.

@the_last_samurai:

"I need no servant," Tarbyrian barked. He never understood why his comrades would bring back slaves. Though they were of great monetary value, they were still human. He always viewed relying on someone like that as weakness, anyway.

"We are both more honorable than that, I can tell,"

He did, however, elect to walk beside the swordsman, the heavy clank of thick steel contradicting the swift allure of his host's own, lighter armor.

"I have had the taste of mead on my lips for a while. Is this 'tea' comparable to such a drink?"

@_atomikill_:

The Samurai's eyes cautiously viewed the man's gun before setting themselves back onto the fighters features. "Hmm, do you now?" He smiled, raising an eyebrow, "Gothic City is dangerous. But what this city does not need, is foreigners collecting bounties," he stepped aside, allowing the man to walk, "do not return if you only intend to fight, or a better opponent will find you" Kenshin did not want bounty hunters in his city, he had fought them many times before.

@the_last_samurai:

"No, see- that ain't the full story. The people who hired me wanted me gone. Payed for the flight, and left me to die. Not a penny in my pocket when I came here. There is no bounty. Unless the elderly woman living in the Worker's Region is as dangerous as they said." He said, pulling a cigar out of a pocket by his shoulder, lighting it and bringing it to his air holes.

@the_last_samurai: Open to anyone?

Looks like you just fvcked yourself with Godzilla attacking Ghetto Tokyo.

@thisisgonnahurt:

"Very well my friend, I shall honor your independence" He smiled, looking down at his guests armor and chosen weaponry. "It has been a long time since I have viewed a man which such weaponry. Most of the inhabitants of this world prefer a less...Elegant form of weaponry, guns, you know of guns?" Guessing not, "No, tea is a hot drink made by infusing the dried crushed leaves of the tea plant in boiling water, and adding milk, or sugar for flavor" Passing the two through an ancient woodland, the fresh smell of nature tickled his nose.

@_goliath_: This aint Tokyo btch :P But feel free haha

@_atomikill_:

"Oh, so they dishonor you?" He frowned, "this is not good. You should seek vengeance, at least, I would" Some samurai thought vengeance was bad, and others thought it redeeming your honor, he thought the latter, at least, for the last 200 years he had done. "What is your name?".

@the_last_samurai:

"Believe me. They're already dead by now." Not caring to elaborate on how he could give his suits directions while out of it, he continued. "Some call me Tommy. But I go by Atomikill to the public." He said as he smoked gently. "What do they call you?"

@_atomikill_:

"My pleasure to meet you, Tommy, my name is Kenshin. They," referring to the entire city, "call me The Daimyo, I am the defender and, some say, ruler of the city" motioning his head to the side, non-verbally conveying his want to leave the alleyway. "But you may call me Shin. How did one get the alias Atomikill? This is...Very unique".

The iron mass smashed the man in the head as he tumbled over, falling to the ground as he splashed into the mud. "Arg..." He panted, crawling backwards, trying to get to his feet and run into an alleyway.

@the_last_samurai:

"Ah. Right." Tommy said- and, not wanting to explain it, he pressed a button on his gauntlet, aiming it toward the wall of the alley so he wouldn't accidentally hit Kenshin. Bright orange energy spurted out, burning away at the bamboo. "Atomic radiation is in this suit along with me. And, I kill, so... Atomic-kill. Atomikill." He shrugged. "A friend gave the name to me."

@_atomikill_: Let's continue tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight lol

@the_last_samurai:

The ogres did not chase as they brought on the large vats of military-grade soy sauce, others brought the ginger slices. The organizer chased down the runner, as it is his responsibility to do so. The man is groggy so it would be simpler to take him down. Slipping into the alleys.

@the_last_samurai: thanks bud, but nah you don't have to reply. I just wanted to set up camp you know? Sort of a 'where are they now' post.

@the_last_samurai: OK.