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Welcome to Novas, where the Color you are born into determines your future.

Will you accept your fate or will you fight against the system?

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UPDATE 08 - 05/2018 A new writing challenge is up! Move us to tears with a glimpse from your character's life and get a cute lil badge as well as valuable points :D

UPDATE 07 - 03/2018 The Stupid Cupid event is now over! Everyone who took part has been rewarded with points and a tiny cute award! Stay tuned for more challenges and events :>

UPDATE 06 - 02/2018 Our Valentine's Day event is here! Go sign up your characters for some free smootches ;D

UPDATE 05 - 12/2017 HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! We have a new announcement for you, holiday gifts and of course we're giving warm welcomes to our newest members!! Keep your eyes peeled for more c: Also, did you notice we're 2 months old now? Yaaay!

UPDATE 04 - 11/2017 The event ended and every participant has received their rewards! We've also cleaned up the board for any inactives, updated the claims and ratios accordingly and we're celebrating Rise's one month anniversary! We love you guys so much <3

UPDATE 03 - 10/2017 Rise's first on-site challenge is up! Come celebrate Halloween with us and earn points and pretty badges~

UPDATE 02 - 10/2017 Rise's official opening is here! Today we open to the whole public, so make sure you welcome in everyone new & returning and make lots of friends and plots!

UPDATE 01 - 10/2017 Rise's soft opening is here! Make yourself at home while we iron out any remaining wrinkles around the site!

UPDATE 00 - 09/2017 Beta testing around the site has begun.



 
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» into the fire, COURTNEY / quentin
DALEKA JONES
 Posted: Dec 17 2017, 04:26 PM
quote
gladiators sponsor
pansexual
single
31
61 posts
380 points
cunning
tek
DALEKA JONES
Offline / GOLD


dysfunctional
i'm a slythery, mean, goddamn bitch. i always have been
if any edits are needed, let me know! i feel like i went too much ahead xD just pm
for

QUENTIN SMITH

Running late, ugh, this had never happened before.

She was punctual, her gladiators were serious people, they knew this was the only way they could get out of their miserable lives - they never skipped a fight. Not if they wanted to still be able to get in the arena.

And yet, here Daleka was today, frowning beyond recognition as she kept asking around for the fighter that was supposed to be here 10 full minutes ago. Ten minutes in which they would have changed into their armor, gotten a pep-talk and maybe, just maybe, a snack or the promise of a Pink's company as reward if they won the duel.

And yet....."Where the hell is The Fixer??"- Daleka raged through the halls of the Shelter (the place where sponsors and their gladiators resided in before and after fights, roman-architecture heavy), building which could be associated more with a luxurious mansion than an actual stray shelter.

Browns cowered out of her way as she stormed out of her room and barged into The Fixer's supposed one -who actually picks their scene name to be something so Orange-ish and plebish?, she wondered- and looked around for any signs that could tell her that the gladiator actually passed by, but found none. "WHERE?" The woman yelled more to herself than the empty room, and walked up to the vanity shelf, clicked on her middle finger ring to make a hologram screen pop up with the time, only to read that they will soon be late to the arena.

"Fucking amazing..." She muttered to herself, taking a deep breath before smashing down a decorative vase from the vanity shelf in a fit of rage. How dare a miserable gladiator ditch her in the last minute? She had already decided that there would be hell to pay for this, nobody crossed her. Nobody crossed the maniacal bitch, and "The Fixer" should have known better.

Hurriedly, she picked up the man's laid-out armor from on top of his bed and rushed out of the room, platform boots thumping against the marble floor down the halls - until the mansion's doorbell rang. "The fighter!" He was here? Late as shit, but at least there was still some time. Five minutes left to be exact.

The Gold rushed towards the front door, Brown who was about to open the door stumbling backwards and getting out of her way as she yanked the door open. "Finally! You're the Fixer, right? What took you so long?? You're needed NOW, move it." Golds had a way with words and plesantries..

Before she even finished her sentence, she had already extended the armor to the man ahead of her (he looked like he could be a gladiator, so he must be the one, right? she hadn't seen The Fixer before anyway) and snapped her fingers for two Browns to come pick up whatever luggage, serviette and anything he was carrying to empty his hands and start rushing him to his changing quarters. "You're probably not used to working like this, but this is how Golds do it here, so just save everyone their time and do as I say and you'll be fine and ready to go do your job." By that, she meant that gladiators usually had their own armor made, but this time it was something like a representation of colors and blazons rather than an actual, big bad fight, and new armor bases were given, decorated with epaulettes and carved-in models and all the fancy roman-style armor similarities. "The pay will blow your mind though." Representation mattered. Gladiators today were basically paid like big companies paid for their PR - picture Koca Kola, Tepsi, they invested so much just in public image, and so did Daleka. "Can you put this on yourself or do I have to show you how?" She didnt mind helping undress and dress him up, after all, she was notorious for how she didnt have a sense of other people's intimacy or personal space.

Daleka looked up at the man's face finally, having been to frantic until now to actually care to look at him. Damn, those eyes, she'd hate to see him get one of them poked out. But gah, the prettier they were, the dumber, she knew from previous incidents (even though she certainly hoped this wouldnt be the case)"You know what, just lift your arms, I'll show you." Better safe than sorry, and she picked up the chest leather belt that would keep the dominant arm's protection in place, waiting for the man to cooperate.

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QUENTIN SMITH
 Posted: Jan 4 2018, 09:45 AM
quote
0 posts
points
QUENTIN SMITH
/


#template_container { width: 400px; padding: 10px; border: 4px double #eee; }#template_container b { font-weight: bold; color: #FF7C10; }#template_container i { font-style: italic; }.thread_post { padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri;}.tag { padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; font: 9px calibri; border-bottom: 3px solid #ddd;} Why did Quentin accept this job? Well, because of the money. It was simple job the opening had emphasized. Show up here at this address and fix this and that. Then off on your way with a decent paycheck direct deposited into your account. Of course, nothing was ever this simple. It would be painfully obvious this was the case as he had shown up to said address with his tools and was greeted by someone incredibly beautiful who had swung open the door with such ferocity that he thought it was going to fly off what hinges remained. He had no idea what this obvious face of authority was talking about as she started yelling about him being late. The only thing to him that made sense was being referred to as the fixer since he tended to fix things.Quentin couldn't comprehend the seconds that passed that his tools were gone (as they were removed from his person by servants he assumed) and he was holding... armor? Why was he holding armor? What kind of job was this? Despite opening his mouth to question his surroundings he didn't seem to have the time to ask anything as he was rushed from the entrance to a room further into the residence. Honestly, even just became more confused as she spoke. "Why do I need this?" He mustered, pointing at the armor. The listing hadn't said anything about playing dress up in order to fix a broken mechanical door mechanism. Quentin had no idea who this particular lady was, or where he was, or why it may have been necessary that he needed to wear armor. He felt like a broken record constantly replaying what was going on and attempting to figure out how he had gotten involved in whatever was happening here. She had asked him - well told him - to lift his arms. Quentin lifted his arms without hesitation, not even thinking since everything was happening so fast anyway. Sure, mentally he was asking what the hell was happening but he couldn't muster the words. "Who are you again?" He questioned, since it finally occurred to him to attempt to look for the person who posted the listing. He vaguely remembered a name but he was pretty sure it wasn't a woman's name. He was honestly starting to regret accepting the job listing but it was likely too late to cancel now. TAG: DALEKA JONES; I WASN'T EXACTLY SURE WHAT TO WRITE SO I HOPE THIS IS OK.
^
DALEKA JONES
 Posted: Jan 12 2018, 06:45 PM
quote
gladiators sponsor
pansexual
single
31
61 posts
380 points
cunning
tek
DALEKA JONES
Offline / GOLD


dysfunctional
i'm a slythery, mean, goddamn bitch. i always have been
if any edits are needed, let me know!
for

quentin smith

More often than not, gladiators werent the smartest people in the room. They usually had a background of being lowly mine workers (Reds), with little to no education, or battle machines (Obsidians) trained as soldiers. Hell, sometimes even people from Colors like Green or Brown tried taking up a sidejob as a gladiator, but everyone knows it's survival of the fittest. And because Daleka was used to have to make herself understood even by simpler people, she tried to exercise her patience whenever interacting with them.

But alas, her patience level increased the more alcohol she drank, and she was now sadly sober.

"To look pretty. I know this kind of task shouldnt require a specific attire, but hey, it pleases the eye and it'll get you more money." Sounded simple enough. Unless you were aware that money meant better sponsorships, and it was important to make a good first impression when seen by other Golds.

"I'm Jones, but we can get to the introductions after you're done, Fixer." He was so slowing them down. Almost as if he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Another rookie?

"Yeah, well, you have to take off your shirt for me to be able to put this on you, honey. So do that while I untie this." Finicky piece of sh- the armor had plenty leather strips to take care of, many which got tangled when not worn. Daleka moved towards a small, cushioned feet-rester and kicked it to slide closer to the man, before putting her boot up on it. Then, she rested the armor on her knee and thigh to be able to successfully undo the strips without struggling to keep it in her hands only, and raised it towards the fighter. Not once did it cross her mind that he might be uncomfortable or whatever.


--------------------
daleka fucking jones
you're fucking with the wrong wolf, baby
darkness gonna break your light
pm
email
^
QUENTIN SMITH
 Posted: Feb 5 2018, 02:02 PM
quote
0 posts
points
QUENTIN SMITH
/


#template_container { width: 400px; padding: 10px; border: 4px double #eee; }#template_container b { font-weight: bold; color: #FF7C10; }#template_container i { font-style: italic; }.thread_post { padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri;}.tag { padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; font: 9px calibri; border-bottom: 3px solid #ddd;} It seemed like the more this woman spoke, the less Quentin understood about where he was and why he was doing what she told him to. Well, he was probably doing it because everything about her radiated the color Gold and he was taught to respect Golds since if you looked at them wrong they could destroy your life with a blink of their eye. While he questioned everything around him, including the Gold, he did his best to understand the situation. "Uh, okay - I guess." He rambled, very unsure on how wearing archaic gladiator armor was going to help him fix a broken mechanism or whatever the advertisement had said since he no longer remembers after being whisked away and pushed and pulled."Jones? Fixer? I'm not sure I'm in the right place." Quentin began to ramble on, "I accepted a job to fix a door or something. I don't think I'm the right guy." He had no idea who this 'Fixer' was but he was on Quentin's shitlist for getting him into this mess which was probably going to be impossible to get him out of as this Gold was obviously impatient as it was. Without hesitation, Quentin tugged the bottom of his shirt over his head and folded it neatly while Jones untangled the straps for the armor. "But uh, how much does this pay anyway?" He still wasn't sure what the job was but it couldn't be that bad if it paid as well as she was hinting about. Or maybe it was the worst job in the world and he had just potentially signed up to his own funeral. TAG: DALEKA JONES; I HOPE THIS IS BETTER EVEN THOUGH ITS SHORT.
^
DALEKA JONES
 Posted: Feb 25 2018, 12:44 AM
quote
gladiators sponsor
pansexual
single
31
61 posts
380 points
cunning
tek
DALEKA JONES
Offline / GOLD


The dark haired woman's brows furrowed more and more as the man spoke, and at some point it turned out that he was actually an Orange? What the fuck am I supposed to do with some Orange, were her immediate thoughts - but she knew just what she was going to do.

Admittedly she had taken two other Oranges as gladiators before, neither of which really lived for more than two fights (there was only so much luck and agility one could show in a fight with an Obsidian or a buff and gruff Red). She knew she could probably try her luck with this one as well, at most it would be another burning funeral to arrange or whatever, but her patience today hadnt been the best. She did not want to get into other deals with a few minutes before a gladiator show off. She just needed a representant, one to wear her armor today.

Daleka scratched her forehead, tongue pushing against the inside of her lower lip as she thought of a plan, pronto.

"A lot, it pays like double or triple of what you would get for fixin' some lame door. Bonus if you get out there, then as soon as the fancy presentation is over, you get back in." That way, he would also not die. He didnt need the details, though.

She gave him the armor, offering to help him put it on and do all the straps accordingly, then go rummage through a wooden chest (everything here was so roman-themed, like house cosplay if that even existed) for a gladiator helmet that would cover his whole face. That way, she didnt have to hire the Orange to actually represent her, god the shame. She had Obsidians to call up after this.

"Alright, now see if you can fit this on your head." She tossed the golden helmet at him, then stretched to reach into a wardrobe for one of the swords hung behind the robes. She picked a fairly light one, not too long, but not very short either - an agility blade in her own terms, long as a whole arm. It still had some blood stains where the blade and the handle kissed each other, but honestly it fit the aesthetic, golden handle with a crimson hue and all..

"Hold this in your right hand and puff your chest. Think you can do that? Dont slouch or you'll look smaller." Smaller and even easier to trample by a 2 meters tall Obsidian or another.

QUENTIN SMITH

--------------------
daleka fucking jones
you're fucking with the wrong wolf, baby
darkness gonna break your light
pm
email
^
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