Highlander RP

Alright.. I joined another rp site and decided to join as a highlander, you know.. The immortal dudes, connor and duncan macleod.. Well.. truth be told, my character isn't really a highlander, since he doesn't come from scotland, but its the universally accepted term for em.. so whatever. Anyway.. this is my first rp...

ps- This rp site is ALSO a dbz messaeg board. I joined as the highlanded cannon character for the hell of it.. At the moment, earth has been overrun by demons, all the earth defenders are either dead or off planet, and the human population is dwindling fast.... My character, Adrian Lambert (ultimate name rip off) has been hiding in his apartment since the invasion.....

pss- edit: Forgot to tell you.. Adrian isnt a highlander yet.. he hasn't died yet.. that's where my first session starts.. He will die soon, and arise as an immortal.
lol.. semi important but of info left out there. lol

Adrian Lambert.
Chapter 1: An Immortal's Rise.


{Too long. It's been too god damned long. I've been trapped here, afeared for my life for too long. I am a warrior, so why am i not out there, among the hazards of this planet fighting for my, and others, life. Am i a coward, or simply pragmatic? Do i consciously or otherwise realize that my death would affect neither the outcome of this battle, nor the status of the human race, and thus my mind disallows me from leaving my self-imposed refugee?

I don't fucking know. This whole fucking situation pisses me off. Where are the supposed defenders of Earth? Those who have stood stalwart in the past against the ever increasing plagues this planet has suffered? Did they decide to just say "Fuck it" this time, and leave us mere mortals to our own devices? To skip town while the getting was good? Were they defeated? Fallen in battle, unable themselves to even overcome the strength of the tribulations set before the human race?

Where are they? I would gladly take their place, defend myself and my home from those encroaching upon us. But alas, i cannot. My strength is unmatched by my fervor. I am a warrior, but not of the sort that could aid in this planet's defense. I am mundane, mortal, unable to form even the most basic of ki techniques. Not for lack of trying, though, i assure you. I've spent years honing my body and mind to perfection, all for naught however...}

The author of these works looks up, and rubs a single eye, forcing out the sleepiness gathering there. To sleep was to be unprepared, to be unprepared was to be dead. And that was one thing this man could not accept, even if the rest of the world was dead or dying outside his window.

The wind was calm tonite. Good. At least that meant the shutters wouldn't be slamming together all night, which he was assured slowly drove him insane. It would do nothing to calm the struggle in his soul, but that was his own damn problem. He sighs, an audible expression at his displeasure this life has wrought upon him. This isn't where he was supposed to be, locked in some cracker box apartment, spending his life, wasting it rather, as a martial arts instructer. Hell, his lessons were mediocre at best. Adrian had always been so much better at actually fighting, than teaching others the intricacies of it. Sure, it was possible to learn the moves and get the footwork down, but the true art of the warrior required an instinct, reflexes, and an inner power beyond what could be taught.

Adrian Lambert, fate's bitch, sighs at his life. Pathetic really, locked up in his room all day, that is, if he isn't out teaching some snivelling brats to fight. Adrian is more on edge than usual tonite; It had to be the weather. It'd been raining all god damn week.

"Fuck" The single word resonates from the small chamber, as a single light source, blue in origin, alights the darkened room with its ambience. A moment later the room shakes as thunder rolls a few miles away. "...Perfect" Is all the warrior can say, as a few moments later a single drop splatters against his closed window. Seconds later, the rest of the pack catches up as a hail of rain takes to pounding the glass like a band camp filled with retarded children. "Fuckin Perfect." Adrian says a last time, putting the two words together as he stands to his feet behind the desk laying down his pen and paper.

Who was he fooling. He wasn't a Martial Arts Instructor anymore. All of his students, learning to few of the techniques, or simply too weak, were all either dead or hiding much the same as he was. He refers to himself and his situation as if this trial in life will pass, that one day the demons will simply up and leave. Fat chance. His life as he knew it was now over, and it was only a matter of time til he was found, and his life as it would ever be known will be over, forever.
TBC...