index
int64 0
56.6k
| thread_id
int64 0
1.54k
| message_id
int64 0
752
| author_id
int64 0
2.81k
| author_num_posts
int64 2
36k
| message
stringlengths 0
134k
| character
stringlengths 0
110k
|
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
54,402 | 1,480 | 17 | 1,059 | 22 | Oh dear! Denni cried out nearly getting hit by a three-pound cord the side of her head. Hal could do nothing but laugh at the sight just because Denni always seemed to have good intentions didn't mean her Haunter was the same. Denni quickly helped the poor Umbreon out from the mass of cables.
As she began to assist this poor cable burdened girl, she caught the last bit of what the gentleman who had caused the calamity asked. Coincidentally I was just about to help our fallen comrade find her way. With one good tug Denni pulled the red head to her feet only to quickly lose her balance and fall backwards onto her rear. Hal was now floating upside down howling at the sight before him. Hal! Not funny! This flustered demand only made the Pokemon laugh loud enough to resonate amongst the halls.
Denni took a deep breath and looked upwards at her two human counterparts, My name is Denni I'm the receptionist and head of public relations. I would love to assist both of you to wherever you may be needing to go.
There was no way she was going to get to IT and fix her phone before the first broadcast. But hey she was making friends right? | Name: Denni Hadderleigh
Gender: Female
Age:18
Desired Position:Receptionist/Public Relations
Pokemon:Haunter M Hallows (Hal for short)
Why Should you work at the radio tower?: My life revolves around Hal. I was lost as a kid playing in Union Cave as a Gastly, Hal found me and helped me find my way home. What does that have to do with anything? I have a goal well... Denni opens a Pokeball containing an excited Haunter who licks Denni's wrist making it go limp. She then let's out a sigh. Well we have a goal. We want to build strong enough relations with other trainers so we can send Haunter on a Poke-exchange trip and hopefully evolve him to a Gengar! Using my strong social skills and Hal's ... personality. Hal makes faces Denni not flinching You wanna know what will make me excel at my job? Drive to accomplish a goal Denni lifts her still paralyzed wrist in an attempt to make a triumphant fist. Haunter posing behind. Also an apartment in Goldenrod is expensive. Under her breath Man I need a roomate...
Sorry again about the delay. |
54,403 | 1,480 | 18 | 2,502 | 1,203 | For a long moment, Gaia was quiet as she regarded the red head. Was she actually… hitting on her? For real? “Gaia.” She finally answered, looking the girl up and down before turning her attention back to the sound board. “And I hope you've got some better lines than those, because they were awful.”
She waved off the other two men as they left, already having forgotten the name of the grumpy one. She had stuff to do before the broadcast. “You must be either loaded or really confident you won't get tossed out on your ass though, promising everyone dinner like that,” she said dryly. If she was being honest with herself, dinner did sound nice, she'd been eating take-out food for the past couple months as it was. Gaia had a sneaking suspicion, though, that “dinner” would probably mean some shitty fastfood place. Sara (Sophia? Susan? Screw it, she'll just call her CB) looked like she was barely beyond fresh out of college, which meant that if she wasn't rich she was probably broke. And if she was broke, then she'd probably expect Gaia to pay.
A buzzing in her pocket distracted her from whatever the other girl’s answer was. Roman, or maybe it was Rick, some promoter dude she'd been introduced to the other day at any rate, was on his way up with a ’special guest’. Whatever that meant. Rolling her eyes, she texted him back.
R:In the middle of the check now. Who is it?
The answer came back not ten seconds later, sending Gaia’s eyes shooting wide. “Aw, shit!” In an instant, she was on her feet, spinning Suzie around and pushing her towards the recording booth. “If you're gonna talk, CB, do it into the fucking mike, just get your butt in there so I can finish this! We don't have a lot of time!” She quickly returned to her seat, sliding her headphones into place. Flirty attitudes could come later, right now, she had work to do. | Name: Gaia Davin
Gender: female
Age: 28
Desired position: Sound Engineer
Pokemon: Joltik (Thera aka The Boob Terrorist, female)
Why should you work at the radio tower?: Because I'm the best sound engineer you'll ever find. Half the work in radio is having a good personality, and the other half is making sure you sound good. My personality sucks, but you could have a voice like a Rhyhorn with a head cold, and I could still make you sound like Meloetta herself.
Half the candidates I've met today say they're the best there's ever been. What makes you so special?
I don't work with sound, okay? I live it. Both my parents were musicians, and I've been playing with sound and noise almost since I was born. I was working with my first sound board when I was nine. Everybody's got their talent, right? Something that they're just born to do? Sound is my thing. |
54,404 | 1,480 | 19 | 2,033 | 9,330 | ~Sidney Garland~
- More flirting (Unsurprisingly)
- talking with Nally
"Heh, maybe not loaded, but I have my ways~" She giggled, giving Gaia a bright grin. She wasn't talking about some cheap fast food restaurant, or well, any fancy restaurant really. More...upscale jazz club that she had a free pass too thanks to being 'friends' with the owner. And by that, she meant he owed her a rather large favor. A little secret for later, though. For now, it seemed things were about to get started, and now that the crowd had gotten out of her recording room, then this would be easy!!~
"Wow, someone's getting right to the fun stuff." Sidney giggled as she allowed herself to be spun around, and shown to the recording room.
"I was serious about dinner by the way. Hit me up after work. I know a great little place you'd just love~" With that, she walked into the room and set her own stuff into a desk provided and took a seat at the mic. She knew how these worked, more or less. Wasn't her first time doing something like this, though it was her first time doing it public like this.
"HELLO!~" She spoke loudly into the mic. Well, sounded good to her. Thankfully, it looked like most everything was in order. Now, all she had to do was wait for them to go on air and with the arrival of a one Derek Nally, it seemed like that was going to be getting here fairly soon.
Seeing Mr. Nally outside of the recording booth, she waved and motioned for him to come inside. She wanted to get this show on the road as soon as she could. Honestly, she was a little miffed about having to share her first time on the radio waves with Nally, but such was life. She'd just have to woo the audience with her charms regardless of whether this guy interfered or not~
As soon as he stepped inside, she'd greet him as energetically as she did everyone else.
"So you're Derek Nally, huh?~ Sidney Garland." She would hold out a hand, obviously meant for shaking. "I'm running a talk show here, and you're our honored guest number one!~ Take a seat love, and we'll get this show started~" | redacted |
54,405 | 1,480 | 20 | 196 | 663 | Eli
With the boxes again packed up with the neatly wrapped cables, although some had come undone in the fall, Eli tried to smile in a relaxed manner. Sadly, it came across more like a grimace than anything. It probably had something to do with the Haunter laughing away around them, Latuna gazed at him confused as to why he was laughing, and Eli tried to put him out of her mind as she gave Latuna a very enjoyable chin scratch as an apology.
As Eli moved to help the purple haired girl, who introduced herself as Denni, up from the ground and tried to say two sentences at once.
“Pleased to thank you” She Spluttered for a second and gave the sentence another go. “Very much meet you.”
A small whimper and a sigh Eli felt herself turning very red, utterly embarrassed with herself. She’d been here for barely an hour and already she’d gone and made a fool of herself. Trying to keep her breathing steady Eli decided to take things from the top, and try to salvage the situation as best she could. She took a deep breath.
“Heya, I’m Eli. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Both of you.” Eli quickly added the last bit. “I work here as the IT Specialist, and pretty much the IT department. So, any problems with your computer or what have you just give me a shout.”
By her feet Latuna huffed and looked expectantly up at his trainer.
Eli grinned happily. “And Latuna as well. What he lacks in thumbs, he makes up for in helpfulness.” Latuna also smiled and puffed out his chest, content with Elis description. “You can find my office down the hall and to the left” She pointed down the hall the way she had come. Or maybe it was on the right?
“Don’t suppose you might be able to tell me where the main Offices are?” Eli knelt down to pick up the boxes, bending her knees as her Mother had drilled into her from a young age when picking up heavy objects. “I was told I needed to finish connecting everything to the main server; cables are more reliable than wi-fi but it takes a bit more legwork.” | Name: Delilah Delta, though she like being called Eli
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Pokemon: A naïve Umbreon by the name of Lutana; he has an almost inexhaustible amount of energy making him one of the few who can keep up with Eli.
Desired position: IT specialist
Why should you work at the Goldenrod radio tower?:
“Well for one thing I’m a local, so I can be here lickity split the moment there’s an issue. And I know my stuff about computers, not just software stuff like the operating systems and setting up file servers.” She tilted her head for a moment. “Heck I could probably set up an entire login system of some kind if I had enough time and resources. Oh! Add in-house software designer to the list.”
“But yeah, I’m really good with the hardware side of computers too so whatever sort of thing you need it to do I can tell you exactly the sort of spec you’ll be looking for in a machine. I even built my Brothers gaming rig and I estimate that it’ll be running games at the highest quality for at least a few years.” Eli shot a small grin towards her Umbreon sitting happily beside her, and he in turn gave her a confident look too.
Their rehearsals of the interview had paid off.
Other: She wears roller skates almost all the time making it a wonder how she hasn't broken her neck yet
If there are any changes I should do just gimme a shout, also I'll try and find a suitable pic of her soonish if that's alright. |
54,406 | 1,481 | 0 | 2,492 | 758 | This is the IC thread. Please do not post any OOC chatter here. | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,407 | 1,481 | 1 | 198 | 332 | Archane
The young woman walked briskly down the allyway, her hands in her pockets, her face hidden in the shadows of her hood. She walked past closed shops until she came to the end of the allyway, where she came to a set of stairs. She jogged down them, and entered the building at the bottom of the steps. She shrugged off the cloak and tossed it behind her, to an older woman who caught it.She opened the door and walked into the writhing mass of bodies and music. | Christened Name & Surname:, but her code name is Archane Nova
Appearance/Image:She has jet-black hair that is cut to just below her shoulders that she usually puts up in a bun or under a wig, electric green eyes,flawless cream-colored skin, and a scar on her collarbone from a bullet that killed her the first time she died.
Desired Role:Dictator
Possessions:Magical armor that blocks everything but iron and steel, double daggers made from iron(go figure)
Personality & Bio:She is fiery and headstrong, but at the same time she thinks things through as she does them, and will take a moment to step back and think if things are going wrong. Archane is very cold, and it takes a lot to ruffle this immortal's feathers. However, once you get her going, you are on your own, and you normally end up dead. So, when she meets people, she tells them not to make her mad. It's also easiest to get along with her if you just don't interact with her at all. |
54,408 | 1,481 | 2 | 2,492 | 758 | The entry of the Immortal caused everyone in the room to erupt with whoops and cheers. People bowed to her as she passed them, with the men offering to kiss her hands or feet.
One enterprising young man approached her with a twinkle in his eye. "May I have this dance, m'lady?" | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,409 | 1,481 | 3 | 800 | 3,846 | Lens Mira "The Lance of the World"
Samantha Hemloch "Lady of Elysium"
South of many of the nations, Lens Mira, known to Mirans as "The Lance of the Aetherion" thanks to the large spire, "Elysium Spire", that sits in the center of its capital city, is well known for their magic schools and magic users and holds its own economically through the collection and exportation of marble and gold. Many come here to study at one of its prestigious schools and other for their marvelous libraries. Many tourists also come to see "The Elysium Spire" which also holds the nation's leader, "The Lady of Elysium", Samantha Hemloch. The temple's history and purpose is shrouded in mystery but many who enter with questions leave with those questions answered. It is a symbol of knowledge, a symbol of the future and has been since Hemloch's rise to power.
"Reiner?" The hooded man looked up, light blue electricity ran through his eyes, disappearing only for a split second as he blinked.
"Yes m'lady?" His hands were interlocked at the fingers behind long drooping sleeves.
"Do we have a meeting today with anyone?" She was resting with with her head on the back of her limp hand, her legs crossed over one another as she glanced over at him. He simply shrugged and looked back at the approaching visitor.
"Not sure m'lady, I think so but I haven't received any messages about an expected visitor. At the current moment it is just the normal tourists and locals." She responded with a nod as she uncrossed her legs and looked at the person ahead. The doors of the Spire closing to the rest of those waiting as she preferred to deal with each visitor one on one. | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,410 | 1,481 | 4 | 800 | 3,846 | Are we still continuing? | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,411 | 1,481 | 5 | 2,492 | 758 | They were about to have a meeting whether they wanted one or not. The doors burst open, and a tall, weatherbeaten man stumbled through. His white hair and yellow eyes marked him as more than a mere man, but there were tears and bloodstains on his clothes, and grease, dirt, and rotten flesh was caked onto him. Upon seeing Samantha, he dropped to one knee, too exhausted to speak. | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,412 | 1,481 | 6 | 198 | 332 | Archane
The instant the Immortal's foot touched the cement floor, every knee dropped to the ground, every eye lowered. When she finally spoke, her voice was smooth and cold, like it had recently been refrigerated (hmm... do those exist here?).
"Rise." The command was short, simple, and was immidiately carried out. A young man approched her, a gleam in his eye.
"May I dance with you," he asked.
"Of course," was Archane's reply. It amused her that the young man would go to so much trouble as to actually try and court her. She, for one, let him think that she wanted to be near him. Besides, there was that pesky meeting in... Ah, yes, an hour. Archane started the dance with her partner, and soon, everyone followed suit.
"So, where are you from," she asked him, leaning in close. He was taller by about a foot, and perhaps would serve under her as a captain, or as her Hand, if he turned out to be Immortal. That issue does need to be solved, she thought with a grimace. Her Immortal Hand had recently been killed, and she had yet to find him, or a replacement.
"I am from this territory," he replied, smiling broadly. "My name is Alcoro Hensieta." | Christened Name & Surname:, but her code name is Archane Nova
Appearance/Image:She has jet-black hair that is cut to just below her shoulders that she usually puts up in a bun or under a wig, electric green eyes,flawless cream-colored skin, and a scar on her collarbone from a bullet that killed her the first time she died.
Desired Role:Dictator
Possessions:Magical armor that blocks everything but iron and steel, double daggers made from iron(go figure)
Personality & Bio:She is fiery and headstrong, but at the same time she thinks things through as she does them, and will take a moment to step back and think if things are going wrong. Archane is very cold, and it takes a lot to ruffle this immortal's feathers. However, once you get her going, you are on your own, and you normally end up dead. So, when she meets people, she tells them not to make her mad. It's also easiest to get along with her if you just don't interact with her at all. |
54,413 | 1,481 | 7 | 2,545 | 541 | Gabanre entered the next building. As he entered most of the people stood still and the magic that was being practiced was stopped. As he spoke: "Everyone, continue with your buisness as usual, im just here to learn some magic of my own."
It was a that point a young blonde woman appeared out of nowhere. She offered him to teach the invisibilty magic to her. And he accepted. She was his hand, she was immortal like him. And on top of that his wife.
After a while he was done and started to watch others. The first one was practicing fire magic and Gabanre said: "You should do it like this." As he shot a massive fireball out of his hand, hitting the target like it was super easy.
Then he thought that it was time to leave and he went to his home. | Disclaimer: I'm Not native english, so my grammar can be bad
Would this be good? If not please tell me
Christened Name & Surname: Gabanre Van Houten
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Ruler
Possessions: Hand gun and sword which can be set on fire.
Hoards of gold.
Wears full plate mail
Personality & Bio: Greedy, Cruel, Proud, Ambitious and Strong-Willed
When he got born from his mom and dad, His mom died due to sickness, Gabanre still thinks this was a sacrifce made for him to get immortal, Soon after his dad passed away aswell leaving him alone at the tender age of 5. He got adopted by a couple which could not get childeren and learned a lot about history and politics.
After his first dead, he got born again and knew everything. He tried to make good use of this and got really greedy. |
54,414 | 1,481 | 8 | 800 | 3,846 | The front doors had opened wide from a forceful push, causing Samantha to quirked to this, her head cocked to the side. She glanced over at one of her subbornates and gave a brief nod to which they responded by moving up to the weary man, offering a bit of food and water.
"Catch your breath traveler. Take your time." She had gotten up from her throne-like chair and made her way over to him.
"He is very tired M'lady." The hooded man spoke with a calm tone. Samantha asked a simple question in Miran to her subordinate to which he nodded. A hand was placed on the subordinate and onto the tired man and as they came into contact her eyes glowed with a bright purple as violet tendrils slithered down both her arms and onto the two she touched. "Hold still." She said with serenity. In that moment the subordinate felt slightly weak as the man would gain a bit of energy. It was only a brief moment before she released her touch and stood.
"You should be fine now, well, I should say at least to talk. Sleep and a meal will help you fully recover, you are relieved." The last part was directed to her subordinate who simply nodded and walked away, replaced by another. "Tell me why have you come? What is your request weary traveler?" She gave the man a faint smile and soft eyes as she stood up and walked back to her seat. | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,415 | 1,481 | 9 | 2,492 | 758 | "Catch your breath, traveler. Take your time." The Queen rose from her throne and started to approach him. A hooded man nearby stopped her. "He is very tired m'lady," he stated. At this, she planted her hands on both Solomon and a subordinate. "Hold still," she directed. Sweet energy flowed into him, breathing new life into his tired body. He opened his mouth to thank her.
Yet, he faltered. I am undeserving.
"Tell me why have you come? What is your request, weary traveler?" the Queen asked. She began to walk back to her seat.
He could not allow that. He had to impress on her what was to come. There wasn't time! Solomon sprang from the floor and spun her back around to face him. He gripped her shoulders hard and stared at her eye-to-eye.
"I have witnessed the End." | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,416 | 1,481 | 10 | 800 | 3,846 | Her subordinates arms sprang up with flames that dripped off his hands as the older man sprung up to attack his leader, or so he thought. It did catch her off guard but she stopped her sub, easing the man's eager to attack. She chuckled at his claim. "The end you say? So have I. So has he and-" She gestured to her subordinate who had flicked the flames away.
"So has most of the people outside this spire. We all have seen "the end" in same shape or form whether it is the end of school year, the end of the fiscal year, the end of...a contract...Even the end of a loved ones life. Everything comes to an end but where one thing ends something else begins. In one hand is life and the other death. It is a natural occurrence and is apart of life..."
She smiled but it was only a moment before her smile started to fade as she took notice to the man's unyielding expression. Her eyes darting around his own before she spoke up, her own eyes never removed from the man's.
"There will be no more visitations for today Pyre, close the doors and prepare my room. Be sure to give this gentlemen a room and whatever essentials he needs and then send him to me. You...we will talk in a little bit." Quickly she shrugged him off and made her way swiftly to the other side of the spire, disappearing behind a large marble door. | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,417 | 1,481 | 11 | 2,492 | 758 | The Queen didn't believe him at first. "The end you say? So have I. So has he and-" She motioned for her subordinate to leave off his attack. The man understandably thought the Queen was under attack. She continued, "So has most of the people outside this spire. We all have seen "the end" in same shape or form whether it is the end of school year, the end of the fiscal year, the end of...a contract...Even the end of a loved ones life. Everything comes to an end but where one thing ends something else begins. In one hand is life and the other death. It is a natural occurrence and is a part of life..."
Solomon's heart began to sink. The Queen wasn't taking him seriously. He straightened to his full height, almost seven feet tall, and studied her face for any hint of understanding. His gaze was frighteningly expressionless, as if he bore news so grave that no emotion could possibly describe it. And as Samantha stared back at him, it began to dawn on her that "the end" he referred to was of greater importance than she had first thought.
"There will be no more visitations for today Pyre," she commanded. "Close the doors and prepare my room. Be sure to give this gentlemen a room and whatever essentials he needs and then send him to me. You..." she said, addressing Solomon, "We will talk in a little bit."
Solomon bowed. The news was urgent, but he could afford to spend a few minutes learning about the woman so closely associated with The End. He already gathered that she was a Soulforce mage - that much was certain. What was less clear was whether her powers could affect the rise of the Awakened. He shuddered at the thought of them.
"As Your Majesty wishes. What you must do, I urge you to do in haste, for the coming storm draws nigh even as we speak." | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,418 | 1,481 | 12 | 800 | 3,846 | The man was lead to the third story of the spire. Its winding starcase stretched up to the top. However her subordinate would stop him at the beginning of the fourth floor staircase. A small wooden door sat neatly next to it which the younger man opened and gestured for him to enter. "Anything you may need has been prepared for you and you are free to move about as you wish. You will be called when she is ready." And with that the young man disappeared behind the now closed do as his footsteps could be heard echoing against the marble staircase.
It must have been hours that had past before a different man, this one hooded knocked on his door. He was just shy of 6'8 but his eyes sparked with electricity. "Follow me." The simple and abrupt command was given before he lead him to the 28 floor of the spire. Big golden doors with the words "Lumine ent Luna", in Myrain it meant "Light entered Darkness". As the doors opened the room was pitch black, say for the light entering from the staircase. Glowing purple eyes looked towards the tall man. "Enter and tell me what you have envisioned." As the man would enter, the doors would close behind him and the electric mage would stand guard. | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,419 | 1,481 | 13 | 2,492 | 758 | Solomon ascended the staircase behind the servant boy. The air clamped at his chest and weighed down his breaths, and his footfalls sent uneasy echoes in a chamber unused to living souls. The servant boy never once spoke or turned his head, leading Solomon to wonder whether he was being led into a trap. He folded his arms and exhaled - what would happen would happen. They soon came upon a little wooden door, lit by the ghosts of flickering torches that struggled against the shadows. The servant opened it to the darkness beyond.
Then, the boy spoke.
"Anything you may need has been prepared for you and you are free to move about as you wish. You will be called when she is ready."
With that, he vanished behind the door and shut it, plunging Solomon into the black.
It's a little like death, he mused as he sat down upon the dusty stone floor. Cold, uncomfortable, and void of all light. Yet, it is unlike death in that there is apprehension of impending doom that is, at best, mute when one is nearly past it. To ease his mind, he bowed his head and pushed away all thoughts and let them go. Time trundled on until at last a shrill creak broke the silence. Someone opened the door.
"Follow me."
Solomon rose to his feet and beheld the individual in his gaze. The man giving the order eclipsed nearly all the light in the doorway, but his eyes brimmed with the energy of shorter folk. Solomon gave him a nod. "Lead the way."
If the journey to the third floor was creepy, the journey to the 28th floor was intimidating. The deathly chill that permeated the lower floors intensified, and the silence grew deeper as the two men unconsciously settled in rhythmic pace. Every step seemed determined to kill him, some too high, some too short, some slippery, some arched. Though he knew that castle staircases were always designed that way, it lent little comfort to his mind already primed with a foreboding spirit. He mouthed a relieved prayer when they reached the top, only to take it back with a curse when he found himself face to face once again with yet another portal into the blackness.
"Lumine ent Luma..." he murmured, repeating the words written on archway. He slipped a sideways glance at the tall man. "Translation: Jokes are illegal." The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptably before he stepped once more into the darkness.
A pair of glowing lights pierced through the black. "Enter and tell me what you have envisioned," said a voice. Solomon recognized it as the voice of the Queen. He turned away from her and folded his hands behind his back, pausing to gather his thoughts.
At last, he spoke, his voice grim and laced with solemn resignation.
"I have peered into the Abyss, wherein I fell and gazed into eternity. I beheld, as it were, beasts, bearing the image and likeness of men, whose minds were forged by the hammer of Time for depravities unfit to pass the lips of the living. I beheld the Blade of the Infinite, stained red with the blood of the Undying, held in the severed hand of the Awakened One. As I looked upon the disembodied member, it grew and reformed in the likeness of a Woman. Though her appearance was so deformed by sorrow as to pass all description, I realized that I knew her, and she me. And in that moment, she raised her Blade and slew me. I fell once more and further into the Abyss, where the eternal flame licked at my heels and threatened to end me. I died a thousand deaths crawling over the bodies of the slain to return to the Portal whence I gazed."
Solomon turned to look her in the eye.
"You are that Woman." | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,420 | 1,481 | 14 | 800 | 3,846 | She listened carefully to the man, her eyes unwavering as she took in what he said, nodding quietly to herself, her gaze hardening before raising a hand to stop him. So I am the one who slays you? I do assume that this is not a jab at the magic that I use as I understand its controversial usage. You claim that I am this woman...Why me?
She leaned back in her chair, still shocked at this revelation. Another question popped into her head as well.
You are basicly saying I caused the end? Her hard look remained on her face as her subordinate gave her a sidelong glance and then back to the tall man. | Samantha Hemloch"Even behind stone cold skin lies a warm heart..."
Appearance:
5'6", 106.8lbs, Pale skin, unkempt black hair, stone white eyes, grey lips, thin frame.
Seen wearing
Desired Role:
Immortal
Personality and Bio:
Possessions:
This amulet helps amplify her magic capabilities. It usually is kept around her neck and hidden under her clothing.
Sack of 20 gold
Book of Necromancy
Small dagger
Stones with Magical runes on them:
- 2x Fire
- 2x Wind
- 2x Lightning
Powers:
Necro-reanimation/Ressurection
- Reanimation: She can transfer her aura onto the dead but only those who are fresh or still retaining their organs however by implementing more of her aura she can manipulate skeletons like puppets but this does take energy to do and are not so reliable so she doesn't use skeleton puppeteering much.
Necrotic Manipulation:
-With her aura inside a corpse she is able to take control of its moto-functions and command it to do what she wishes.
Deterioration (Rot/Corrosion/Erosion) Aura
- Should she put energy into it, her aura has a special element that allows for it to dissolve her immediate area (6 foot radius) to nothing while another 6 feet out any organic or inorganic begins to decay and erode.
Energy Absorption Aura
- In order for her to continue her use with her powers, she needs to absorb power from the living whether it be from people, animals or plants. However she cannot take from inorganic material.
Pain Suppression
- Due to her own aura consistently eating away at itself while healing itself, she has gained an extremely high tolerance to physical and pain, being able to withstand gunshots, stab wounds and many other things. Now this does not mean she cannot feel it but rather offsets it, allowing her to still think clearly in combat.
Ring Around The Rosie (lyrics)
Ring Around The Rosie
Pocket Full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down
Ring Around the Rosie
This Evil Thing, It Knows Me
Lost Ghosts Surround Me
I Cant Fall Down
Christened Name & Surname: Reiner Kepler
Appearance/Image:
Desired Role: Immortal Hand of Hemloch
Possessions:
Magic Powers: Although the image gives it away.
Personality & Bio: |
54,421 | 1,481 | 15 | 2,492 | 758 | Solomon bowed his head. "I know not whether you are a cause or victim of the events I have witnessed, only that you are intimately connected to them. Judging from past experience and from the grotesque nature of the events, I am more inclined to believe that you will be a victim who became an unwitting cause, unless you are fond of wonton destruction. Given the importance of your role, it is likewise possible, even probable, that you can single-handedly prevent the apocalypse. But prophecies have this nasty habit of being right, and it takes tremendous effort to avert them. I have seen thousands of prophecies in my lifetime, some great, some small. All but one came to pass exactly as foretold."
He turned away. He seemed reluctant to tell how the one prophecy was averted. | Name: Solomon Trent
Role: Immortal Hand for
Possessions: buff leather longcoat, boiled leather armor, steel sword, thirty pieces of silver
Magic Powers:
* Blessing/cursing (casting spells on objects) - healing, sealing, strengthening, weakening
* Teleportation - short range, can self-cast
* Telekinesis - short range, can self-cast
Personality & Bio: His past is clouded in myth. His purpose is shrouded in mystery. Some legends say he once wielded the Infinity Blade against a thousand Immortals, only to lose it to powerful dark magic. Others say he was slain nine times in a row by a demon and slew it on his tenth reincarnation. But only in whispers does the darkest legend pass mortal lips: that he once ruled all of Aetherion.
Or you could simply ask him yourself. His journeys have taken him back to Aetherion, and he will arrive in a few days time. When the information he brings comes to light, millions shall perish.
And billions more shall see their first day.
P.S. Contrary to popular tropes, legends are usually dubious, at best. These are highly exaggerated. |
54,422 | 1,482 | 0 | 2,732 | 5,726 | Level 1 - White Room
You awake in a room much similar to the one you had just been in. It looks almost identical to the main Gallery area but...why are the lights out? And where was everybody? You can wander the entire Gallery but will find no one. The door will not budge no matter how much you beat on it and all the windows are locked with no way to break them. The world outside it as dark as night with no light shining out in the darkness. As you awaken you notice that you are not alone; there are others waking up around you wondering the same question:
Where am I?
As everyone awakens they will notice that stamped on the floor in front of them are blue letters:
"Come play below with me~"
An arrow points upstairs where you will find that the rope safe-guarding the Abyss of the Deep has been moved with a blue arrow pointing at the painting.
Do you dare take the plunge?
Primrose
Thick lashes flutter back to reveal magenta orbs, a dazed look in them. The eyes stared up at the ceiling for several moments before slowly looking around at the surroundings. A small hand came up to rub at them as the small girl slowly sat up, feeling slightly dizzy. What in the world happened? She had been happily looking at the artwork with Garry. Why was she on the floor? Had she fallen asleep? She continued to rub at her eyes as she climbed to her feet, looking around. Strange. This looked like the Gallery but why were all the lights out? And...Where was everyone? An uneasy feeling stole over her as she started around at her dim environment.
"G-Garry...?"
Her voice came out as a whisper, echoing slightly in the quiet room. A small whimpered bubbled up in her throat and she felt tears spring to her eyes. What happened? Where was her brother? She wanted to go home! A soft rustling sound drew her attention away from her panic and she whirled, gasping softly to see other people laying on the ground. Her eyes widened and she rushed over to a boy around her age with soft blonde hair. Se hesitantly reached out a hand and shook his shoulder.
"H-Hello? Are you alright?"
Allen
Allen made a soft noise as he awoke, blinking open his eyes. At first, he was very confused to find himself on the floor with a girl that had very long hair leaning over him. "Stella?" He mumbled as he slowly sat up. He rubbed at his eyes and discovered that this girl was in fact not Stella and he frowned at her. "Who are you? Where are we?" Now that he was looking around he realized that while this looked like the Gallery, something was different. Where were all the people? And were the lights out? Had they been locked in? He climbed to his feet, the girl at his side doing the side. He could see she looked nervously, hands clenching at the front of her dress and worrying her lip between her teeth. "My name is Primrose. A-And I think we're in the Gallery but it's dark and I don't know where everybody went."
Allen was alarmed to see tears in the girls eyes and felt panic rush through him. Like any boy of his age, he didn't know what to do with a crying girl. Trying to calm her down, he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll figure something out." He gave her a comforting smile as he looked around them. As he took in his surroundings he blinked in surprise to see that there were more people lying on the ground like he had been. Geez, what in the world happened? He frowned worriedly and approached one the people laying on the ground.
"Hey, you alright?" | Do Not Post Characters Here Without Receiving Approval First. Any Characters Posted Here Without Approval Will Not Be Accepted Under Any Circumstances.
”Monsters that live inside my head at night are all right cause they can never compare to the ones that live outside.”
~Appearance~
At 3’0, Primrose could be described as petite and slender. Her skin is blemish free aside from a few scars on her hands and knees from falling. Her long dark curls hang well past her waist and she has bright eyes like her brother. She is not very strong and she tires easily. Normal clothing can be seen in the image above. She keeps the sides of her hair tied back with two small red bows and can always be seen wearing them.
~Name~
Primrose Marie Fairchild
~Age~
9 years of age
~Gender~
Female
~Rose Color~
Blue
~Why are you in the Art Gallery?~
Her brother surprised her on her birthday to a trip to the Gallery.
~What is the one item that was brought with you?~
It had been their grandmothers and Garry managed to save it before John threw it out or pawned it for money. When she is afraid, she holds it close and thinks of her brother. He had his and Primrose's names engraved on the lid. It is one of her most treasured possessions.
~Likes~
� Drawing
� Music
� Playing her violin or piano
� Reading
~Dislikes~
� Bugs
� Loud or sudden noises
� Mean/Rude people
� Being the center of attention
~Hobbies~
� Reading
� Taking pictures
� Drawing
� Singing to herself
� Admiring nature
� Spending time with her friends
� Playing the piano and violin
~Fears~
� Being alone
� Tight/Small spaces
� Never being good enough
� The dark
~Personality~
Primrose is normally described as a kind and caring individual. She tends to put others needs before her own and won't hesitate to help someone if she feels they are in need of assistance. She also has her shy moments where she tends to look at the ground and not really talk to anyone. She gets nervous when meeting new people and doesn't speak much until she gets to know them better. Like with all children, Primrose has a stubborn streak and will not budge if she sets her mind to something. She's not one to anger easily but once she is watch out because she can have quite the temper and is not afraid to give you a piece of her mind. Of course, afterwards she will be completely mortified by what she said and will apologize profusely to the person she grew angered at. If she thinks they deserve it that is. If she feels you completely had what was coming to you, not one word of apology will leave her lips though secretly she will still feel rather bad about it. Another trait of Primrose's is that she has a bad habit of bottling up her problems so the people around her will not worry. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and say everything is fine.
~Biography~
To say Primrose and her brother Garry were apart of a happy family would be stretching it a bit. They never knew their father, the man had left as soon as he found out the siblings's mother was pregnant with Primrose. Their mother's parents disowned her and she was left to raise them by herself, her own sister turning her back on her. She tried her best, working three jobs. Garry helped out where he could, even keeping an eye on Primrose when his mother couldn't. By the time Garry had gone off the college, their mother had meet another man. It was no surprise that their mother soon married him, lured in by his money. However, not too after their step-father John soon began showing his colors. He ordered their mother around and turned to drinking. Garry didn't like how he acted around Primrose and when CPS become involved after a teacher made the call after seeing bruises on Primrose, her guardianship was turned over to Garry. He had been working as a painter and was living in a small apartment. A elderly neighbor watched the girl when Garry couldn't and with his job, he managed to provide for Primrose and himself.
On the day Primrose turned nine, Garry surprised her by taking her a Guertena exhibition because he knew how much she liked painting and drawing. |
54,423 | 1,482 | 1 | 1,287 | 533 | ..."Hey, you alright?"...
Cat
This is... The gallery, wasn't it?
What had happened? Cat had been studying the paintings, of course, and then... the lights went out... right? And then... Nothing. She was drawing a major blank. Obviously if it had been under her own power, she'd have never elected to sleep on the floor. Thankfully it was just some dust that easily wiped off, but she still got the shivers thinking about it. Who had put her here? The obvious culprit was one of the other people laying around her, just a handful compared to those who had been in the gallery before. Most of the people around her were younger than her - children, really. With one notable exception, she didn't think there was anybody who could strongarm her, not to mention everybody else here as well. And that wasn't even taking into account the people absent from the museum. Of course, Cat had come here alone, so it wasn't out of the question that she'd be left behind, but these young kids probably had family with them, or at least some form of guardian. They wouldn't be left behind so easily.
Too much to think about right now. She needed to do something.
There was a young boy and girl who were already awake, but it looked like she'd been the third in line to regain consciousness. The young boy... had perhaps woken her up?
"...Yeah. I'm fine." Cat had gotten her bearings. There was no reason to be scared here. And neither of these two children could have knocked her out, so there was no reason to be suspicious of them.
"I guess you two don't know what's going on any more than I do, huh." She rolled through her options in her head. She'd like to get everyone... almost everyone... up and on their feet in case anybody knew what was going on, but somebody needed to take stock of the room, look for clues, etc. What was the right course of action? It took a moment, but she come to a sort of conclusion.
"Listen, do you two mind seeing about waking the others up? I'm... not the greatest with people, I don't want to scare anybody. I'd like to take a look around and see if I can figure out what's going on." She didn't know if taking charge of the situation was the best course of action for her; these kids didn't have any idea who she was, probably, and had no reason to listen to her But if anybody was going off clue-hunting alone, Cat would rather it be her and not them, for safety's sake. She'd stay close by if anything happened, though. Just in case... | ~Appearance~
A pure-white girl who gives off an aura of stern detachment, as though she is looking directly through you with her bright red eyes. Cat stands quite tall for her age at just under 6 feet, but is quite skinny for her height, like a tall, slender blade of grass or a sunflower. Still, because she's so tall (and combined with her stern, vacant stare) she can come off as fairly intimidating to young children or even nervous adults. Somehow, people always get the impression that she doesn't care about a thing in the world, even though the opposite is actually closer to the truth. She dresses in a fairly lax manner, and her signature clothing item is a cat-eared hoodie, the hood of which she almost never lets down. If she has taken her hood off, it can only mean she's ready to play hard ball.
~Name~
Catherine "Cat" LeBlanc
~Age~
16
~Gender~
Female
~Rose Color~
White
~Why are you in the Art Gallery?~
Cat is an art lover, and even an artist herself. However, she has recently begun to lose her passion for painting. She has come to the gallery in hopes that she can find inspiration again.
~What is the one item that was brought with you?~
Cat always carries a small white handkerchief with her to spot-clean any possible stains. She hates getting dirty.
~Likes~
--Art (painting, mostly)--
--Being in the dark--
--People who don't judge her for her appearance (though she reluctantly likes being called cute, and likes cute things.)--
~Dislikes~
--Getting dirty--
--Being in a large group or crowd--
--Strong-looking guys (young boys and guys smaller than her are okay.)--
~Hobbies~
--Painting--
--Singing--
--Night walks--
--Spending tons of time inside her own mind. (She does this even while doing other things anyway.)--
~Fears~
--Overly dirty, rusty, or old-looking rooms--
--Men and boys (unless they don't look strong or threatening)--
--People thinking she doesn't care about them--
~Personality~
Cat is a strange individual with a lot of inconsistencies (as befits an artist.) She is always seen with her pure white hoodie, but can't stand getting dirty. If even a bit of dirt gets on her outfit and she thinks it won't come off, she gets angry, and even deranged. She is always acting passive, but is immensely protective of her friends, and will be the first one to step in front of somebody who is being threatened, even though she's scared of tough-looking guys. She is always thinking about lots of things internally, even when talking to others, which is what causes her distant stare. This leads people to believe that she doesn't care about anything. In actuality, she is incredibly loyal and will help her friends in any way she can. She doesn't talk much, or emote much, but it's usually quite scary when she does show emotion, because it means she has either been sent into a blind fury by some dirt, or else she is sternly protecting her friends. Though she doesn't really say anything about it, she's usually pretty good at seeing when other people have problems, and like a dog or a cat, she will try to stay close to comfort them. However, because she doesn't talk about this habit, it can just end up being confusing to the person involved. She loves being alone and in darkness where nobody can see her, but conversely hates having the spotlight on her or being in the middle of a crowd because it feels like everyone is judging her, or is scared of her. She has a secret love of cute things like miniature animals and objects, or stuffed dolls, and secretly longs to be cute herself, even though she knows she is more 'cool' than 'cute' considering her height, age, and lack of emotions.
~Biography~
Even a perfectly normal family with perfectly normal lives and a perfectly normal daughter isn't without its own problems. Such a family is surely hiding secrets. In the case of the LeBlancs, their only daughter was supposed to have a twin brother, but he was lost in infancy. Because of this staggering loss, the entire family dedicated themselves to preserving their perfect nuclear family (or at least the outward image) so that they wouldn't run into any more problems. Catherine was supportive of this goal as well. She wanted her family's image to stay perfect and clean, even as a child. So when she started having problems like bullying, anxiety, and depression, she kept it entirely to herself. For a lot of years, she channeled her problems into painting and singing, and when she couldn't sleep, she would go for walks alone to clear her head. But as she got older, her bottled emotions started creating more problems. In one major incident, she once got so mad at a boy for spilling paint on her in art class that she sent him to the hospital with a broken arm. Her teachers were stunned, in disbelief that this was the same girl who always kept to herself and never spoke a word. Later that week, all of the boy's friends ganged up on her and beat her up behind the school. She didn't say a word about this to the teachers or her parents, merely taking a bath to clean herself up when she got home and acting like nothing at all had happened.
Now, at age 16, she has lost her passion for most things she used to be passionate about, primarily her art, which has been stuck in a rut for ages. In going to see Guertena's supposedly transcendant art, Cat hopes that she can reignite the spark of painting within herself, and once again find a way to channel all of her negative emotions that she otherwise doesn't know how to deal with. She couldn't possibly miss this exhibit for all the world. |
54,424 | 1,482 | 2 | 290 | 1,247 | Trilby
What the fuck happened? he looked around himself quickly and saw his cane laying beside him, Ben grabbed it and used it help himself up, he rubbed his head in an attempt to sooth his aching head as he tried to remember what he had been doing before waking up. he had been on the phone with Gin while going over some of the painting then...? 'i fainted? I think?' "Fuck why can't i remember anything else?" Ben reached into vest as to grab something but he found nothing "And now my god damn flask is gone!"
.."Hey You Alright?".. Ben looked down at the kid. 'how had i not noticed them before?' he scratched his head before answering "Not really Kid" | ~Appearance(Anime please)~
"they say picture is worth a thousand words, if that is so then tell me how much this painting is priced"
Ben stand at 6’5 he has a pretty average build, his style of dress tend to reflect his love for wealth.
~Name~ Benjamin ‘Whiskey Bar’ Trilby
~Age~ 18
~Gender~ Male
~Rose Color~ orange
~Why are you in the Art Gallery?~ I was scouting it, for my crew we where planning to rob it later that night
~What is the one item that was brought with you?
Shillelagh (Its my cane and it been in the family for generations)
~Likes~
Point & Clicks Games
A Nice Looking Suit
Wealth
Masks
Ice-Tea
Whiskey
The Crew
~Dislikes~
Jails
Coffee
Still-life paintings
Security-Guards
~Hobbies~
Planning future heists
Working on Masks
Babysitting one of his seven sister's kids
~Fears~
Getting Caught
Losing His Fortune
~Personality(Three proper sentences minimum)~
"Crime is my Art and when i perform my Art i just Come Alive"
whiskey is commonly refereed to as the brains of the crew, thanks to his extensive planning of every heist though his intelligence is hindered by his short-temper and how easily frustrated he tends to be. his patients seem to be close to endless when it comes to kids, though this could be considered one of his few positive traits as his sailor mouth tends to get him trouble with his sisters whenever he babysit their kids
~Biography(Three proper sentences minimum)~
Whiskey had a pretty good childhood he wasn't abused, neglected yes but what can you do when you grow up alongside seven other siblings. while growing up Whiskey idolized villains and robbers such as Lex Luthor, Harvey Bailey and gangsters of the 20s & 30s, alongside this was his desire for a life of wealth that lead to him becoming the career criminal that he is today. he met a member of his crew in jail,
which he had been put in, under the suspicion of being involved in the break in of a high class clothing store. which he was though they never had any evidence to convict him so he got off Scots free, while in waiting for one of his sisters to bail him, he chatted up with a man called Jim 'pit-bull' Rogers a fellow professional heister who would go on to introduce him to the 'Breaking Bank Crew' |
54,425 | 1,482 | 3 | 1,570 | 4,066 | Ezra
A sharp gasp escaped Ezra's lips as she came to consciousness, her hand reaching towards her side where her pen had been jabbing into her hip. She angled it so it slid correctly into the pocket of her shorts, before her eyes began to adjust to the dark room. "What the.." she whispered harshly. Trying to remember what was going on before she was here. Was she drugged? Kidnapped? She hadn't even done any drugs before her interview in fear that she might have had to done testing on the spot.
The sound of voices chattering was admittedly frightening, and the bodies that seemed lifeless surrounding her was not helping the situation. Gathering strength, Ezra hoisted herself up into a sitting position and eventually got herself standing. She adjusted her clothing, running a hand through her dyed green hair. "What the hell happened?" Ezra demanded, originally not too concerned with how her tone sounded. It was then she noticed the voices were of children that she had some empathy. Her teeth sunk into her lips, before speaking again, "Sorry. language. Are you guys okay?" she asked, trying to make out the situation. | ~Name~
Ezra Zielony.
~Age~
Seventeen.
~Gender~
Female.
~Rose Color~
Green.
~Why are you in the Art Gallery?~
Applying for a job.
~What is the one item that was brought with you?~
A ballpoint ink pen.
~Likes~
~ Music
~ Partying hard
~ Traveling
~Dislikes~
~ Small talk
~ Being told what to do
~ Children
~Hobbies~
~ ~ Graffiti
~ Drinking and smoking
~ Making music playlists for friends
~Fears~
~ Overdosing
~ Not reaching her goals
~ Dolls
~Personality~
Ezra is what most would considered a "rebellious" teen. She tends to put herself before others and doesn't really care about consequences of her actions. Loud and boisterous, she will let you know exactly what she is thinking the moment she thinks it. No filter, which more often than not gets her in trouble. If she's not having fun, she finds her own source fun whether alone or with a group. Easily manipulated and prone to peer pressure. She's not the sharpest crayon in the toolbox.
~Biography~
Art Comes Alive
The title of her resume stared back at her as she scanned the information regarding the janitorial position at the gallery. "I don't know why they need any of this shit for sweeping up dusty old crap." Ezra muttered, scribbling out the answers while her music blared in her ears.
Ezra had been forced by her parents to find a job her senior year of high school because her grades weren't looking to good and as far as it looked, a chance at a university wasn't in her near future either.
It wasn't because she had a bad home environment growing up either- by all means, her parents loved and supported her through all her hobbies and interests. Even some of the most daring incidents were met with open arms and the tender heart of parents who just wanted their only daughter to do well in this world.
How BORING. |
54,426 | 1,482 | 4 | 2,479 | 109 | Lila
Lila was always a very heavy sleeper, and she enjoyed her naps. However, she hasn't ever picked the floor as a good napping place, and she had a feeling she hadn't today.
She slowly opened her eyes, only to find it wasn't bright enough to be cautious. She didn't recognize anything around her to be her room, or any other room in her house. In fact, the last thing she remembers is the gallery. She shouldn't be anywhere else. She heard other people's voices and saw people moving, but she didn't immediately recognize anyone. Slowly she woke herself up enough to be able pay attention, but by then she didn't have enough context to know what was happening.
"What's going on?" She asked groggily, though it was likely too soft for anyone to hear. She slowly pushed herself off the floor, with everyone either being just as confused as she is or just as asleep as she was. She softly shook the body next to her, figuring that the best way to figure out what was going on was to have everyone talk it out. | Appearance- She stands at 5 feet 4 inches and always has a smile on her face. She has long purple hair she always pulls back into a hair band (not the clip in the picture), purple eyes, and a pale complexion. She often wears her purple-tinted school uniform, and some variation of a purple/black combo on the weekends.
Name- Lila Iris Adler
Age- 11
Gender- Female
Rose Color- Purple
Why are you in the Art Gallery? Some friends were going, and they decided to invite her.
What is the one item that was brought with you? She brought a pin of a purple feather that her grandfather had given her before he passed away.
Likes- Stories, sweets, happiness (either her own of someone else’s)
Dislikes- The phrase “Let me handle that”, the phrase “you two should go out”, people being mean to one another
Hobbies- Fencing, archery, acting
Fears- Losing her family, being lost (in both the physical and emotional sense), crawling things coming at her at a fast pace
Personality- Lila is a very energetic young girl from a very rich old family. While she is kind to her peers and enthusiastic about pretty much anything, she can be a bit closed of and has an awful lot of pride. She doesn't like sharing her negative emotions and thoughts, and it never really came from anywhere, she just has a hard time doing so. She also likes to be useful and be the most skilled person at something, but she realizes that she isn't and is humble about it, but she gets grumpy if people offer to do things for her if she can do them (such as carrying something she isn't having a problem with). However, she takes great joy in being able to do whatever she can, and has an annoyingly positive additude about pretty much anything. She also automatically assumes the best in others, although this becomes a problem because she assumes others will do the same, which they don't. She hardly ever gets mad at people unless she's in a general bad mood (which isn't often and she'll apologize) or they do something she considers unacceptable (which is being a real jerk about something).
Biography- Lila comes from a very rich family, and lives a life of luxury. She lives in a mansion, attends an expensive private school, and gets anything she wants. Her father, who didn't grow up with such things, taught her that it was important to not be swept up in it all and to be kind to others. She's very close to all of her family, including her parents, aunt and uncle, cousin, and grandparents. In particular, she was very close with her grandfather, who would tell her all sorts of fantasy stories, such as knights fighting dragons or art coming alive. It affected her horribly when he died, but after a few months she was able to move on. Though, ever since then, she felt that the magic in the world had died a little.
At school, she met a boy named Jole, and they slowly became best friends. They always had the same teacher and seemed to be on the same wavelength, so they ended up doing a lot of things together. Eventually, people began to notice, and started to refer to them as a couple, when in reality that couldn't be farther from the truth. At first this didn't bug Lila very much, but after a while she began to meet these accusations with, “We are not a couple. That is your only warning.”
Today, Jole and some of their other friend went to the art gallery, and Lila, never one to miss out on a group outing or pretty pictures, decided to tag along. |
54,427 | 1,482 | 5 | 1,802 | 272 | Tino
“Ouch…” A single groan could barely be heard as a young black-haired youth’s eyes squinted into the darkness. Tino lay on his back, his neck felt stiff in addition to his arms and legs. Unlike the familiar warmth of his home’s wooden floors or the fuzzy piles that was his pets, the ceramic tiles became last on his list of things to sleep on as its coldness breached his blue cotton sweater. His hazel gaze drifted from corner to corner. A few people loitered within sight.
Did he fell asleep on the tour guide’s endless droning? Did he tripped and knocked himself out? A prank? As he took a moment of silence, Tino felt something wasn’t quite right. It was the same room his class had entered yet this place looked completely different in the dark.
With a gasp, his body was shaken by someone. He turned his head to see a girl around his age with purple hair and matching eyes who asked him what’s happening. She looked equally as confused as he did if not a bit groggy. “Uh… Shouldn’t I be asking that too?” He could barely wrap his head around this curious situation. With a huff, he wriggled a bit on the ground before lifting himself up. When no answer came to mind, he shrugged. “Dunno. My mind is blanking out.”
He squinted into the unlit space until he could barely make out the shape of a lady with weird green hair. “I- I’m feeling a bit blind. Where the heck are the lights?” He asked, stumbling over to the nearest wall. It would really brighten his day if he could just find a darn light switch. He didn't have time for his eyes to adjust. Just what the heck is happening? | ~Appearance(Anime please)~
~Name~
Daniel Lusien
~Age~
15
~Gender~
Male
~Rose Color~
Black
~Why are you in the Art Gallery?~
Was dragged brought along by his parents.
~What is the one item that was brought with you?(EX: necklace, lighter, no weapons, candy. Something small)~
Worn Book (specifically The Unknown Masterpiece)
~Likes~
▪️ Books
▪️ Solitude
▪️ Music
~Dislikes~
▪️ Large crowds
▪️ Feeling helpless
▪️ Manipulative people
~Hobbies~
▪️ Reading
▪️ Listening to music
▪️ Learning new instruments
~Fears~
▪️ Being useless
▪️ Spiders
▪️ Clowns (Not that he'll admit it.)
~Personality(Three proper sentences minimum)~
Daniel is a shadow. Somber and reclusive, he seldom goes noticed by those around him. Not that he's complaining. Rather, Daniel enjoys seclusion. The fewer people he's with, the less likely he'll snap at you. While he seldom makes jokes, he's got a thing for dark humor and heavy doses of sarcasm. He's got a bit of a 'Whatever' vibe, choosing to do things at the beat of his own drum. He enjoys being free and independent, and will rebel if told otherwise. Though he may seem a bit cold and aloof at first, deep inside Daniel is very empathetic. He care's deeply about what little friends he has and is loyal to the core. He'll try to help anyone that's in trouble, even if he doesn't have a way with words.
~Biography(Three proper sentences minimum)~
The only son of a powerful tycoon, Daniel was raised under a strict household with harsh rules. Don't talk back. Follow orders. Don't be an embarrassment. Failure to comply meant brutal punishments. Daniel absolutely loathed it.
However, not everything was bad. He found solace in books, often spending days lost in the world of words and stories. When he wasn't reading, he was writing and playing music. It was his dream to become a famous musician--a dream that was ultimately shut down by his parents.
Daniel's parents, being rich, often sought out ways to flaunt their wealth. One of them being through art collecting. Once they heard of Guertena's gallery, they set off to visit it. They forced Daniel to come along, unknowingly throwing him into a world where Art Comes Alive. |
54,428 | 1,482 | 6 | 2,479 | 109 | After everyone's surprise question answer session, the room fell into silence. Lila didn't know what to do next. She had never seen anyone of these people before, and the same seemed true for them. The room at least was a bit more familiar, on a physical level, but something about it made it feel completely different. Not to mention waking up like this... Lila was starting to get uncomfortable with the strangeness of everything going on, so she decided to try and make things less strange.
“Hello! I'm Lila! I'm eleven years old, I'm an A/B student, my favorite superheroes are The Powerpuff Girls, and I came here with some friends of mine and then… I ended up like this.” | Appearance- She stands at 5 feet 4 inches and always has a smile on her face. She has long purple hair she always pulls back into a hair band (not the clip in the picture), purple eyes, and a pale complexion. She often wears her purple-tinted school uniform, and some variation of a purple/black combo on the weekends.
Name- Lila Iris Adler
Age- 11
Gender- Female
Rose Color- Purple
Why are you in the Art Gallery? Some friends were going, and they decided to invite her.
What is the one item that was brought with you? She brought a pin of a purple feather that her grandfather had given her before he passed away.
Likes- Stories, sweets, happiness (either her own of someone else’s)
Dislikes- The phrase “Let me handle that”, the phrase “you two should go out”, people being mean to one another
Hobbies- Fencing, archery, acting
Fears- Losing her family, being lost (in both the physical and emotional sense), crawling things coming at her at a fast pace
Personality- Lila is a very energetic young girl from a very rich old family. While she is kind to her peers and enthusiastic about pretty much anything, she can be a bit closed of and has an awful lot of pride. She doesn't like sharing her negative emotions and thoughts, and it never really came from anywhere, she just has a hard time doing so. She also likes to be useful and be the most skilled person at something, but she realizes that she isn't and is humble about it, but she gets grumpy if people offer to do things for her if she can do them (such as carrying something she isn't having a problem with). However, she takes great joy in being able to do whatever she can, and has an annoyingly positive additude about pretty much anything. She also automatically assumes the best in others, although this becomes a problem because she assumes others will do the same, which they don't. She hardly ever gets mad at people unless she's in a general bad mood (which isn't often and she'll apologize) or they do something she considers unacceptable (which is being a real jerk about something).
Biography- Lila comes from a very rich family, and lives a life of luxury. She lives in a mansion, attends an expensive private school, and gets anything she wants. Her father, who didn't grow up with such things, taught her that it was important to not be swept up in it all and to be kind to others. She's very close to all of her family, including her parents, aunt and uncle, cousin, and grandparents. In particular, she was very close with her grandfather, who would tell her all sorts of fantasy stories, such as knights fighting dragons or art coming alive. It affected her horribly when he died, but after a few months she was able to move on. Though, ever since then, she felt that the magic in the world had died a little.
At school, she met a boy named Jole, and they slowly became best friends. They always had the same teacher and seemed to be on the same wavelength, so they ended up doing a lot of things together. Eventually, people began to notice, and started to refer to them as a couple, when in reality that couldn't be farther from the truth. At first this didn't bug Lila very much, but after a while she began to meet these accusations with, “We are not a couple. That is your only warning.”
Today, Jole and some of their other friend went to the art gallery, and Lila, never one to miss out on a group outing or pretty pictures, decided to tag along. |
54,429 | 1,483 | 0 | 1,570 | 4,034 | December 20th, 2017. 8:00 AM
It was a miracle that the ground wasn't covered in at least a foot of snow by now in the quiet town of Alta Vista. Instead, a slight fog paired with a sprinkling of rain came down on the frozen ground, leaving everything around a very dull and dead grey color. For all students, it was the beginning of winter vacation, a week off for the holidays to be spent with friends and family. For these five friends the day had started even earlier. Around 7:00 am they all decided, (somewhat reluctantly) to all wake up on the first day of the break and spend all day with one another. Having breakfast at the diner, they ate happily and started their day off on a bright and cheerful note, for the most part.
Gaining a bit more energy and after the heavy rain halted, the group decided to go exploring in the forest that surrounded the outskirts of the town. Before they knew it they had reached a small clearing, and in that clearing appeared a faded yellow home. The windows were boarded up, and if they were not boarded, broken. The siding decrepit and crumbling. The friends looked at one another, varying faces of excitement, curiosity, and worry spread across their face. They had never seen this place before, and they had sworn they had stomped over every inch of that town- twice.
Georgina adjusted the white beanie on her head as she looked to her friends, "You guys wanna take a look?" she asked innocently, as she hopped up the very weak and wobbly steps, almost going right through when she stepped on the termite infested wood. Wiggling the door handle, she pouted. She half expected it to open for her, but of course it was bolted shut. | Georgina Anne Berglund
Name
Georgina Anne Berglund. Goes by Gina.
Birthday
February 12th.
Age
16.
Gender
Female.
Sexuality
Heterosexual.
Relationship Status
Single.
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
Basic lobe ear piercing on each ear.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Fall weather
• Long road trips
• Bonfires
• Late night phone calls
Dislikes
• Working hard
• Being rushed into things
• Being too neat
• Nosy people
Hobbies
• Knitting
• Horseback Riding
• Painting
Habits
• Chewing gum LOUDLY
• Dragging her feet
• Not returning texts
Fears
• Spiders
• Railroad tracks
• Getting stuck in Iowa her whole life
Personality
• Silly • Procrastinator • Loyal • Unorganized •
Biography
Georgina was named after her grandmother that she never met. A great start to a life worth of not doing too much in a town that never saw too much action. Thankfully she was born into the age of technology and has the internet and the handful of electronics she owns to keep her busy. When not going to school she tends to get into mischief with her group around town, rather it be going out into the woods or eating burgers and drinking malts at the diner in town.
Gina is closest to her father in the respect of her parents, she admires him for being the head of the family, and always keeping his cool when mom tends to freak out and overreact. She envies her older sister, and tries to avoid babysitting duty at all costs. Not too much family drama can be heard from the Berglund family as far as other residents of Alta Vista are concerned.
Family Members
• Father: Stephen Berglund: 39. Car Repairman.
• Mother: Anne Berglund: 37. Housewife.
• Older Sister: Christine Berglund: 18. Iowa State student.
• Younger Brother: Jacob Berglund: 5 months.
Your Mahlimae
Mahlimae Six
Relationships Between Friends
• Sebastian Christopher Monroe:
• "We've been friends for ages, I don't see that changing."
• Gina's mother and Sebastian's mother had been friends for awhile before the two were even born. They shared their troubles of their strained marriages, and shared their excitements of their first children going off to college. Gina and Sebastian aren't exactly alike but their similarities have kept them going for now. She sees him like a great big brother.
• Kestin Zane Alderson:
• "You'll open up to me someday, won't you?"
• Zane and Gina's older siblings met and started dating in middle school, which ultimately led the two to be forced into interaction with one another from a relatively early time. The two get a long for the most part, but Gina can be a bit bothersome when she wants answers from the secretive Zane, but he has always treated her kindly and the two would be there for one another if needed.
• Raven Newell:
• "Please, don't tell anyone about my stuff!"
• Raven and Gina are creative souls. They've been in several art classes together and even attended an after school art club together during junior high. Which created their friendship that they have going on now. The girls bonded over a few other things, but painting is their foundation. Gina is first in line to tell Raven that her art is "freaking amaze-balls" and won't let her tell herself other wise.
• Connor Dunworth:
• "And I thought I was a lazy bones."
• Connor and Gina are double trouble when it comes to getting things accomplished. They once had a project together in a class and ended up waiting to start it during lunch hour before the class. They did not pass, and the two we're not too happy about being partners ever again. When it is time to relax and have a chill time though, these two are two peas in a pod and get along quite well.
• Parker Quinn:
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Isaura Eldars
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Ignatius llywelyn
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you. |
54,430 | 1,483 | 1 | 2,618 | 2,984 | Isaura Reese Eldars
Location: The Abandoned Building - Alta Vista.
Interacting With: Georgina Anne Berglund (), Sebastian Monroe (), and the rest of her friends.
“The place looked so… dilapidated.”
It was the only word she could think of in the moment. Curling herself just that little bit closer into his body, Isaura tilted her head, resting it gently against Sebastian’s chest as she sought out the warmth that came from being close to him, her tired eyes lifting to look over the building that had somehow managed to stand the test of time long enough that it was still standing before them. The paint was weathered… the house boarded up tight. Windows were shattered; moss growing wild and free over the walls and the stairs- there was nothing about this house that didn’t make her feel nervous.
Turning her head, she buried it into Sebastian’s chest, hiding it from view as she stifled a yawn with the heel of her palm. She felt sluggish… tired- as though she would rather have spent the whole day cooped up in bed, wrapped up in the covers while a movie played in the background. But she couldn’t do that. Plans had been made; so here she was, having woken up for breakfast at seven, only to find herself now standing in front of an old run-down and abandoned building. Chemotherapy could put a real damper on her day… though in this case; it had put a damper on the last few days. Taking a few moments to compose herself, Isaura eventually turned her head, her attention once more lifting up though this time, her gaze fell on Georgina, her dark eyes following her figure as she made her way up to the door in an attempt to pry it open with the handle.
“I get that it’s something we haven’t come across before, but… do you guys really think that this is a good idea..?” Her voice was soft… a slight weakness behind the Australian accent as she spoke out to her friends, giving way to the fact that she might have been just as tired and run-down as the house they were looking up at, “..it kinda looks like it might come crashing down if you manage to yank the door open too hard…” | Name:
Isaura Reese Eldars.
Nick-Names:
Issie, Saura, Reese.
Gender:
Female.
Age:
Seventeen Years Old.
Birthday:
21st of October.
Sexuality:
Heterosexual/ Straight.
Relationship Status:
Single (Never Been In A Relationship).
Distinguishing Features:
Though never really talking about it without first needing to be asked, Isaura has a small (however meaningful) tattoo situated just behind her right ear; the tattoo itself both chosen and done without the knowledge, or even the permission of her sister- and while she knows Seraphina wouldn't exactly understand, she plans on getting another when she feels like the time is right. Aside from this, Isaura has both her ears pierced like a majority of girls her age.
Her Leukemia:
Leukemia is a type of malignancy (cancer) of blood cell; in luekemia, abnormal blood cells are produced within the bone marrow- the cells that are responsible for fighting off infection- however, the abnormal cells within leukemia don’t function in the same way as normal white blood cells. The leukemia cells continue to both grow and divide, eventually crowding out the normal blood cells, and more times than none the end result is that it becomes too difficult for the body to continue fighting off infections, to control bleeding, and to transport oxygen to where it is most needed.
There are different types of leukemia, each based upon how quickly the disease develops over the course of time, and the type of abnormal cells produced.
The exact cause of leukemia is not known, however, it is thought to involve a combination of genetic and environmental factors. Leukemia cells have acquired mutations in their DNA that cause them to grow abnormally, and to lose functions of typical white blood cells; though it is not clear what causes these mutations to occur. One type of change in the cells DNA that is common in leukemias is known as a chromosome translocation. In this process, a portion of one chromosome breaks off and attaches to a different chromosome. One translocation seen in almost all cases of CML, and sometimes in other types of leukemia is an exchange of DNA between chromosomes ‘nine’ and ‘twenty-two’, which leads to what is known as the Philadelphia chromosome. This creates an oncongene (cancer-promoting gene) known as BCR-ABL; this change in DNA is not inherited, but occurs sometime in the life of the affected individual.
Most cases of leukemia are not believed to be hereditary, however certain genetic mutations and conditions can be passed along to offspring that increase the chances of developing leukemia. A condition known as Li-Fraumeni syndrome is characterized by an inherited mutation in a tumor suppressor gene known as TP53, and individuals with this condition have an increased risk of leukemia and other cancers. Other hereditary conditions that can increase the risk of developing leukemia include down syndrome, neurofibromatosis type one, ataxia telangiectasia, and Noonan syndrome.
Signs and Symptoms of Leukemia:
Symptoms and signs of leukemia depend upon the type of leukemia; slow-growing or chronic leukemia may not cause any symptoms at the outset, while aggressive or rapidly growing leukemia may lead to severe symptoms. The symptoms of leukemia arise from a loss of function of the normal blood cells or accumulation of the abnormal cells in the body.
Signs and symptoms of leukemia typically include the following:
⚜ Fevers.
⚜ Night Sweats.
⚜ Swollen lymph nodes that are usually painless.
⚜ Feelings of fatigue, tiredness.
⚜ Easy bleeding or bruising, causing bluish or purplish patches on the skin or tiny red spots on the skin, or recurring nosebleeds.
⚜ Frequent infections.
⚜ Bone or joint pain.
⚜ Weight loss that is otherwise unexplained, or loss of appetite.
⚜ Enlargement of the spleen or liver, which can lead to abdominal pain or swelling.
⚜ Red spots on the skin (petechiae).
However, if leukemia cells have infiltrated the brain, symptoms such as headaches, seizures, confusion, loss of muscle control, and vomiting can also occur.
Treatment for Leukemia:
There are a number of different medical approaches to the treatment of leukemia. Treatment will typically depend upon the type of leukemia, the patient's age and health status, as well as whether or not the leukemia cells have spread to the cerebrospinal fluid. The genetic changes or specific characteristics of the leukemia cells as determined in the laboratory can also determine the type of treatment that may be most appropriate.
Watchful waiting may be an option for some people with a chronic leukemia who do not have symptoms. This involves close monitoring of the disease so that treatment can begin when symptoms develop. Watchful waiting allows the patient to avoid or postpone the side effects of treatment. The risk of waiting is that it may eliminate the possibility of controlling the leukemia before it worsens.
Treatments for leukemia include chemotherapy (major treatment modality for leukemia), radiation therapy, biological therapy, targeted therapy, and stem cell transplant. Combinations of these treatments may be used.
Many patients opt to receive a second opinion before beginning treatment for leukemia. In most cases, there is time to receive a second opinion and consider treatment options without making the treatment less effective. However, in rare cases of very aggressive leukemias, treatment must begin immediately. Someone should discuss with a doctor the possibility of obtaining a second opinion and any potential delays in treatment. Most doctors welcome the possibility of a second opinion and will not be offended by a patient's wish to obtain one.
Treatment and Survival Rate for Leukemia:
Treatment may involve some combination of chemotherapy, radiation therapy, targeted therapy, and bone marrow transplant, in addition to supportive care and palliative care as needed. Certain types of leukemia may be managed with watchful waiting. The success of treatment depends on the type of leukemia and the age of the person. Outcomes have improved in the developed world. The average five-year survival rate is 57% in the United States.
Likes:
✔ Animals of all kinds.
✔ Cuddling with her friends, and others she cares about.
✔ Hot chocolates and marshmallows.
✔ Strawberries and pomegranates.
✔ Music; especially singing and playing the piano.
✔ Bubblegum, and the color pink.
✔ Reading (Fantasy mostly).
✔ Living the rest of her life to the fullest.
Dislikes:
✘ Her leukemia and chemotherapy.
✘ Being left completely alone.
✘ Being treated differently.
✘ People who underestimate or look down on her.
✘ Having to say goodbye to those she loves.
✘ Bullies, and people who abuse others.
✘ Being told what she can and can't do.
Hobbies:
⚜ Multi-lingual- raised by her older sister, and looking up to her, Isaura very quickly took to her sister's love of learning new languages, and can so far speak, read and write in English, Spanish, French, German, and Chinese.
⚜ Musical- exceptionally gifted when it comes to the musical arts, Isaura is exceedingly skilled when it comes to both singing, and playing the piano, causing some (in the past) to state that she has the 'voice of an angel'.
⚜ Photography- quite the sentimental person and wanting to cherish every memory that she possibly can, Isaura loves taking photos with her family and friends, and has a collection of photo-books and frames placed around her room, as well as a collage on the wall over her bed, filled with photos that she has taken throughout her life so far.
⚜ Riding skills- an extreme and intense love of riding which has been nurtured since she was only a young girl; Isaura is able to ride horses.
Habits:
۞ Sometimes grows quiet and sad when left to her own thoughts for too long.
۞ Oftentimes switches between the various languages she knows whenever her emotions get the better of her.
۞ Tends to chew gently on her nails whenever she's reading or concentrating on something.
Fears:
☠ Swimming, and deep water (strong life-threatening fear).
☠ Riding bikes of any kind (doesn't know how).
☠ Telling her friends about her Leukemia (hasn't told anyone).
☠ Being forgotten by those that she cares about when she's gone...
Personality:
♦ Extremely Kind-Hearted ♦ Rather Stubborn ♦ Overly Helpful ♦ Shy and Modest ♦ Exceedingly Mature ♦ Slightly Guarded ♦ Quite Bubbly ♦
Considered to be an extremely kind, and gentle old soul to all those she has the pleasure of meeting, Isaura is an exceedingly sweet and charming young lady; full of both grace and kindness, the rather dreamy-eyed girl is shown to care deeply for all those she believes herself to be close to, showering her friends and family with the love and affection she believes them to be deserving of, no matter who might think otherwise. So overly curious, and just full of life, Isaura tends to find herself (more often than not) walking into some sort of trouble, much to her older sister's dismay; the bubbly teenager's recently found confidence and self-belief in herself growing significantly over the years, despite the seriously deteriorating status of her health, helping her to see the friends she has made as figures that are approachable, offering them both council and comfort whenever any of them seem to need it, oftentimes spending her nights (when the times become too hard to bear, or when the pain of missing her parents becomes too much) sitting in the company of her friends or sister, causing them to worry about her throughout the daytime whenever it seems she has returned back to her normal, cheerful self without so much as a word.
Though coming off as sometimes shy at first when a situation seems to overwhelm her, Isaura does her best to carry herself with both grace and dignity though the hardship that gets thrown her way thanks to the limited time she has left on Earth; the sweet-natured girl never really shows any signs that she is willing to allow her illness, or her older sister's overly protective and cautious temperament to get in the way of her living her life the way that she wants to- the young woman never seeming to have any issues with putting herself out there for others to see, and having no problems whenever it comes to being an open book, or making friends; and as the years have passed her by, Isaura quickly learnt, and began to stand up for herself against those who try to put her down.
Unafraid to berate, or to challenge people in positions of power; Isaura has, over time, managed to confide in those that she trusts so completely that she oftentimes finds it quite difficult to express what it is that she truly feels within her heart, however, the fast-thinking young woman is quick to speak up, defending not only her friends, but also those of whom she believes are being treated unfairly against anyone who goes against what she believes in her heart, whether that be friend, family, or even foe. Although a kind and graceful soul, Isaura is known for being quite stubborn whenever it comes to something that she truly believes in; always choosing to stand up for it, rather than backing down once she has already made up her mind, usually making it near impossible to convince the girl otherwise.
Extremely mature, and oddly grown-up for her age thanks to living her whole life under the influence of her older sister, Isaura oftentimes does all that she can to not be, or be considered a 'burden' to those she cares about in her life; the young woman doing everything she can and more to help out her sister (cooking, cleaning, etc.) and friends (helping with homework, advice, etc.); even going so far as to sometimes choosing to put her own needs aside in favor of others, no matter how difficult the task may seem for her- the girl trying her best at everything, and anything that she seems to set her mind to. Seen to be exceedingly beautiful to all those who meet her, Isaura (more times than none) attracts the attention of many a person who crosses paths with her; whether they meet with one another on purpose, or by pure accident- though despite her undeniably inherited beauty, Isaura is not a vain young lady; the curious young woman always seeming to surprise those she holds dear to her heart, even when they themselves believe that they know everything about her, she always seems to find new ways to both stun and amaze them.
Coming across at times as being quietly confident, and extremely calm, Isaura has shown herself to be more than capable of becoming quite aggressive whenever her friends are shown to be in danger, or in the line of fire so to say; tremendously brave and courageous whenever the situation calls for her to be, the usually dreamy and extremely loyal young woman is unafraid to fight back against those doing wrong, however, she is quite quick to try and hide her more vulnerable side... to varying levels of success. Seen to be both a kind and gentle girl, Isaura sometimes tends to pull away from the company of others, becoming quite reserved and thoughtful, choosing instead to lose herself within her own mind, and oftentimes, in her own little world.
Unnaturally bright, and rather unique in her own way, Isaura has quite the aptitude for thinking outside of the box on general occasion; always seeming to come up with strange ideas that would otherwise be considered to be strange and impossible, however even with that, the young woman is always doing her best to stay positive... and to not worry her friends with thoughts that she might not be around for very much longer.
Biography:
Born the second child to her parents, Isaura was quickly pulled into, and raised with a deep respect towards both her homeland and heritage; the young girl both loved and cherished within her families home. Soon growing into a charming young girl, becoming more and more outgoing with each day that passed her by; Isaura's life was turned upside-down and brought to a complete standstill when she not only lost both of her parents in a tragic car accident, but also when after a few visits to the hospital, the worst was confirmed and her health began to deteriorate due to being diagnosed leukemia.
Knowing full well that they both needed a fresh start, Seraphina gathered up Isaura and eventually, the both of them left Australia. Refusing to be separated from little sister after all that they had been through, Seraphina took on several jobs, gathering the money that the both of them needed and began to after, and raise Isaura in the way that their parents raised her. Years later, and now living as comfortably and as normal a life as she can given her circumstances, Isaura does all that she can to deal with the obstacles that life seems intent on throwing her way; the young woman determined to do all that she can to make sure that her older sister's hard work never goes to waste... even though she knows that the day she'll need to say goodbye is coming.
Family Members:
Father: Rion Eldars (Deceased).
Mother: Erani Marie Eldars (Deceased).
Siblings: Seraphina Eldars (Older Sister).
Pet/s: Though she loves animals of all kinds, Isaura does not own or care for any pets of her own, and flat out refuses and constantly denies that she ever wants one, knowing that it would only be another heart to break when the time comes that she needs to say goodbye.
Isaura's Mahlimae:
Isaura's Mahlimae is number eight.
Relationships Between Friends:
۞ Georgina Anne Berglund ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Parker Quinn ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Raven Newell ۞
"𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁... 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎; 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝓉."
۵ Oftentimes finding themselves bonding with each other over things like books, movies, and their undeniable love of the color pink; Raven, over the years since having left Australia, has very quickly become one of her closest friends following the move to Alta Vista. Able to open up to her about a good majority of things that she feels as though she can't speak about with the others; the two of them tend to spend a good majority of their time together chilling out on the couch, watching Netflix and drinking hot chocolate.
۞ Sebastian Monroe ۞
"𝒮𝑒𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃'𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉-𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔..! 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒... 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂."
۵ One of the very first people she met after moving to Alta Vista, and now holding the title of one of her best friends; Sebastian has always been one of the few people that she trusts so completely. With a shared love of both playing the piano and singing with one another; Sebastian never fails to give her the courage and hope that she needs to continue living the remainder of her life, or to be there for her whenever she needs a shoulder to cry on.
۞ Kestin Zane Alderson ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Connor Dunworth ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Ignatius Maddox llywelyn ۞
"..𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹..! 𝒯-𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓉... 𝒾𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒾𝓉..?"
۵ The second of her best friends, and a constant in her life from her very first day in Alta Vista; Ignatius has always been the one to lift her up whenever she was feeling down. Trusting him with almost every little thing in her life, there's rarely ever a secret that they keep from one another. Basically always found in one another's company; Ignatius continuously helps to bring fun into her life, and never fails to bring a smile back to her features. Endlessly teased at, and told that they should just hurry up and 'get together'; the both of them just seem to laugh it off while never actually discussing the topic of their feelings towards one another... not that they have any... There's no way he could like her... could he..? |
54,431 | 1,483 | 2 | 377 | 25,986 | Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Ignatius stood slightly apart from the rest of the group, watching them all, he couldn't help but look to Isaura, snuggled up against Sebastian. It angered him somewhat. Actually, it more then angered him. It was almost as if there was something churning in his stomach, twisting him apart, and the normally jolly young man found himself...miserable. And dare he say it, jealous. Why? Isaura and himself had been friends for...eons. And Sebastian was....like the brother he never had. So why did he feel like this? it wasn't the first time, and Ignatius wasn't too sure he liked feeling like that. He managed to, for all of five seconds, look away, to glanced about them. The cold didn't seem to touch him, dressed rather warmly, Ignatius managed to pull of style without looking like a prat about it. He was, of all things, dressed in bright colours. A bright red jacket covered his shirt, and his warm winter pants were a light tan, the somewhat bulky socks a bright blue, and around his neck was a black scarf, the only bit of darkness in his assemble.
The forest, always a holder of secrets despite the fact that they had been through it, and the town few times, had revealed to a rather rundown cottage. It looked as if it had been there a long time, to be falling apart like it was, yet Ignatius was sure they had never come across this before. He was also sure that they had been through this part of the forest before and that it hadn't been there. Yet he wouldn't swear to it. He took a few seconds to study the building, Someone must have been out here to board up the windows, if nothing else. So therefore it stood to reason that it had been there...perhaps they just hadn't seen it before.
His gaze was drawn back to Isaura and Sebastian, as Georgina approached the building. He gave a soft chuckle, the sound seeming to dance around them, something warm against the cold, as he approached Isaura, gently tugging her towards him, "Come on now, Isiesaura! Don't be a party pooper!" He spun her about lightly, giving her a bright smile, "It will be alright! We just won't yank the door hard" He said, with another soft laugh, giving her a tight hug, before letting her go, "Have I ever led you astray, dear Isaura?" | Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Name
Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Birthday
31st December 1999
Age
17 years old
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Straight
Relationship Status
Single
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
He has a tattoo on his left shoulder blade, that has a special meaning to him.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Sunny days
• Music
• Cats and dogs
• making people laugh
Dislikes
• Bullies
• doing nothing
• Chili
• rain
Hobbies
• Writing music
• sports
• being in the lime light, doing ANYTHING
Habits
• He has a bad habit of fidgeting. All the time.
• Doodling
• tapping his fingers to a rhythm
Fears
• The dark
• Heights
• Losing someone important to him
Personality
• Cheery • Doesn't know when enough is enough • Friendly • overbearing •
"I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you surely don’t deserve me at my best."
Marilyn Monroe
Ignatius is a cheery sort. If anyone is to be found spontaneously breaking into song and dance, it would be Iggy. He gets caught up in the excitement of the moment and wants everyone else to feel that way too. He is generous with his time and energy, enjoying encouraging others, in an irresistible style.
He is a born entertainer, loving the spotlight, he typically enjoys putting on a show for his friends, chatting in an unique way with earthy wit, soaking up any attention he gets and making any outing feel like a party. Completely Social, Iggy enjoys the simple things, and there is no greater joy for him then just having fun with a good group of people.
He has a strong aesthetic sense of style, taking time to groom and choose brilliant outfits, even if he is just at home, having an eye for fashion, he knows whats attractive the moment they see it.
At times, though it may not always seem like it, Iggy knows that its not all about him, he is particularly observant and sensitive to others emotions, and will typically be the first to help someone, to talk out a problem or even to just be there, providing emotional support and advice. However, he is more then likely to avoid a conflict if the problem is about him.
Biography
Ignatius grew up just like any other kid. He was bright, and bubbly, always doing what he thought was fun, was amazing, was enjoyable. He didn't really care for boundaries, and thus, he got into a lot of trouble .Especially at school. It wasn't that he wasn't smart-Iggy is rather bright for his age, hiding an intelligence behind his eyes that no many see, it was more that nothing seemed to hold his attention.
When he was 13, he suddenly found himself an older brother, to a beautiful, cheeky girl, Kalinda. He doted on the girl, always finding ways to be in her life, to enjoy teaching her how to get in trouble. When he was 16, Ignatius found his life shattered, when a drunk drive crashed into his then three year old sister, killing her instantly.
Ignatius grew distant from just about everyone for a time, his grades dropping, and his persoanlity shifting to one so far from his true self, that his parents were worried that he was going to kill himself. They sought help for him, and he is getting back to normal.
Family Members
Mother, Michelle llywelyn
Father, Jacobite llywelyn
younger Sister, deceased, Kalinda llywelyn
Your Mahlimae
Number two
Relationships Between Friends
• Friend Name Goes Here:
• "Small thought about friend"
• |
54,432 | 1,483 | 3 | 605 | 606 | Sebastian
The early morning fog rolled gently over the still-dewed hills of Alta Vista, giving a haunting yet peaceful feel to the forest. From the late night phone calls with Parker and Raven to the early morning showers that had dragged him from his bed, Sebastian was exhausted, and he stifled a yawn as he trudged through the woods with his companions.
The coffee at breakfast had done little to assist him in his battle against sleepiness, resulting in a rather lackadaisical attitude.
"You guys wanna take a look?" Gina's voice fully pulled Sebastian out of his stupor, forcing him to focus on the strange house. The decrepit windows and overgrown vegetation made Sebastian slightly hesitant, however his curiosity got the best of him, per usual.
For a moment, Isaura's head rested against his chest, and he smiled, leaning his cheek against her forehead and giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. The sleepiness of the morning was quickly fading, being replaced by an insatiable wonder towards the house. Sebastian, more than the others, except perhaps Parker or Gina, knew the area like his own body. He had stamped up and down every trail in the region, both alone and with company, but he had never encountered this house.
After Isaura was pulled away by Ignatius, Sebastian cast a glance in their direction, making a slightly grumpy face at the sudden disturbance of what was a peaceful headrest. Then again, he didn't mind the body heat leech being taken off of him for once.
"This place is kinda creepy..." Sebastian took a few steps forward, cautiously joining Gina on the steps to the house. "But when has anything exciting seemed dull?" Sebastian cast a sly glance at Gina as he slid past her, jiggling the doorknob once again before giving a small rap of his knuckles on the door.
"Any hobos home?" He called out, attempting to see in through the crack of the door and the wall. | Sebastian Monroe
Name
Sebastian Christopher Monroe. Goes by Sebast.
Birthday
December 4th.
Age
17.
Gender
Male.
Sexuality
Bisexual.
Relationship Status
Single.
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
Sebastian has a tattoo on his right side of a tree growing from the base of his hip. His goal with the tattoo is to add pictures of his achievements to the tree as the branches grow across his back, so that in his old age he'll have a tree covering his back that holds the things most important to him.
Sebastian has a scar going from the right corner of his jaw down to his chin from an incident in his childhood.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Excitement
• Rivers
• Thrill of the moment decisions
• Acapella
• Elderly people
• Alcohol
Dislikes
• Sluggishness
• Cruelty
• Fire
• Pride
• People who can't keep their mouths shut
Hobbies
• Piano
• Running
• Singing
Habits
• Stroking the scar along his jaw
• Laughing a little too loud and a little too long
• Randomly switching in and out of vulgar speech patterns
• Acting impulsively before thinking about the consequences
• Staying active through the night and sleeping through the day
• Drinking to distract himself
Fears
• Burning
• Isolation
• Physical abuse
• Rejection
Personality
• Energetic • Temptable • Caring • Distrusting •
Biography
Sebastian was born in the cold months, the youngest of three. His sister Marissa was six years old when he was born. Sebastian never really knew his eldest sibling, Rachel, incredibly well. She was ten when he was born and she left the small Iowa town for college the day she was old enough. Marissa and Sebastian grew up closely, however they eventually became distant when their parents began to have issues with their marriage. Events such as alcoholism and verbal abuse slowly became more commonplace in the Monroe household, until eventually Marissa and Sebastian came to expect it. The middle child followed in her sister's footsteps and left the small town as soon as possible. After living in a troubled household for a few years by himself, Sebastian soon began to distance himself from his parents.
Spending more time with friends after school, looking for people to teach him piano, running track, anything to escape his family. He wasn't truly in danger at home, however it was usually unpleasant. Despite his sisters' actions and his parents poor parenting, Sebastian is determined not to leave Alta Vista. This is hometown and he won't abandon it.
Side note: His parents relationship has improved significantly over the years, however there are still isolated incidents of violence (mental, verbal, and twice physical), but they are on the mend.
Family Members
• Father: James Monroe. 49. Carpenter.
• Mother: Susan Monroe. 47. Housewife.
• Sister: Rachel Monroe. 25. Physician.
• Sister: Marissa Monroe. 23. Psychologist.
Your Mahlimae
One
Relationships Between Friends
• Georgina Anne Berglund:
• "There are some people in your life that are just meant to be there, y'know?"
• Gina and Sebast both grew up in Alta Vista, meeting each other in their younger years via their mothers. Their relationship has been healthy for both of them throughout. Gina tends to make sure Sebast doesn't make too many stupid decisions, and he helps her not get completely absorbed in something to the point of obsession. Sebastian depends upon Gina to keep him steady. He trusts her pretty much the most out of anyone.
• Parker Quinn:
• Quote about friend.
• Description!
• Raven Newell:
• Quote about friend.
• Description!
• Kestin Alderson:
• Quote about friend.
• Description! |
54,433 | 1,483 | 4 | 2,232 | 2,604 | Location: Abandoned House
Interacting With: Everyone
Connor looked up at the rickety old house, squinting to block out the sun. He'd yet to come across this in any of the late night traipses he'd taken with Kestin, or the constant adventures he dragged Parker on. In fact, he hadn't even known this old place had existed. Which only served to make him even more curious. What was this mysterious manor, this strange woodland enigma? He was determined to find out. Glancing around his friends, he waltzed up the rickety stairs and lightheartedly nudged Sebast out of the way.
"You guys need to live a little," he said, smirking before turning around and facing the door. He looked it up and down, noticing how weathered it seemed. This place clearly needed some TLC. Turning around briefly to give his friends a smirk he then turned back around and threw himself shoulder first into the old, rickety door. It didn't budge.
"I won't lie, that was one of my more embarrassing moments. You win this time old, decrepit house." Connor chewed on his lip as he looked around the exterior of the house, searching for a way in that didn't look like it would involve risking tetanus or some other awful disease. "Hey, anyone feel like climbing in that window over there?" Connor asked, pointing out a window that lacked the boards seen at the other openings to the house. The glass pane was broken and what remained looked like jagged teeth, waiting for trespassers. Nothing a stick couldn't take care of. | Connor Dunworth
Name
Connor Douglas Dunworth
Birthday
January 14th
Age
17
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Gay
Relationship Status
Single
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
Connor has a scar on his elbow, the result of a nasty fall on an even nastier rock.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Books
• His friends
• Photography
• Writing
• A good party
Dislikes
• Homework
• Waking up early
• Being controlled
• Being lied to
• Lying
Hobbies
• Writing. Doesn't really matter what, he just loves to write.
• Taking pictures. Connor is on a mission to document just about anything he can.
• Hanging out with friends. Connor's not sure that this counts as a hobby but it really is one of his favorite activities so he'll put it down anyhow.
Habits
• Connor has a hardcore nail biting habit. He's pretty much always gnawing at his fingers until his nails are mere nubs.
• Lip biting. When Connor is deep in thought he tends to bite his lip.
• Connor tends to tap out little beats with his fingers on any hard surface he can find.
Fears
• Heights
• Spiders and any insect bigger than a fly
• Losing his friends
Personality
• Adventurous • Stubborn • Loyal • Unforgiving •
Biography
When Connor was born, it was raining. His mother frequently tells people that when Connor did finally enter the world, the rain cleared and the sun came out. Connor is skeptical about the truth of this story because his mom was hopped up on a variety of painkillers.
That said, Connor does have a way of brightening up a room, so it wouldn't be a huge shock if his mother's story was true.
Harriet Dunworth was a young artist when she became pregnant. The father was a man she'd met at a bar who quickly stepped out of the picture when Harriet tracked him down. So there she was, in the middle of San Francisco, on the cusp of a breakout into the world of art,
and pregnant. Despite the warnings of her friends and family, she kept the baby, and when he was born, she named him Connor. And thus,
Connor's story begins.
Connor was raised around a world of art galleries and powerful paintings, so it came as no surprise to anyone when he was drawn to art at a young age. First it was cameras and then pens to write the stories of the pictures he saw and took. Growing up in the bustling city of San Francisco, he found that he was never short on inspiration. And then his mom got an idea. They were going to move.
And that's how, at the young age of nine years old, Connor Dunworth and his mom picked up and moved to the small town of Alta Vista,
Iowa. If there's anything worse than being the new kid, it's being the new kid in a small town. Luckily, Connor was a likeable kid and he made friends quickly. Since moving to Alta Vista all those years ago, he and his mom have settled in. She still paints, and owns a small store where she sells her works. Connor on the other hand has spent his years focusing on his photography seeing it as his ticket into a bigger world than the farm town he's grown up in.
Family Members
Harriet Dunworth - Mom - Artist
David McCallister - Mom's Boyfriend - Sheriff
Your Mahlimae
Four
Relationships Between Friends
• Friend Name Goes Here:
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you. |
54,434 | 1,483 | 5 | 1,527 | 470 | Location: Abandoned House
Interacting with: Everyone
Kestin stood a little off to the side of Ignatius, staring at the seemingly abandoned home. To him, it had to have been abandoned just by looking at the shape it was in! Though, that wasn't what made him interested in the place, but rather, it was how he could have missed such a place! Sebastian and him had explored these woods countless times beforehand, so he was a bit puzzled as to how such a brightly colored house could have shown up without them knowing. Or... maybe they just hadn't explored this section of the forest yet, he didn't know. The forest always looked the same once you were inside, so he supposed it was plausible they could have missed it before...
But whatever that case was, he really didn't care how they could have missed the place. And when he had heard Georgina's offer to investigate, instinctively he began searching for something off to the side of the group as they discussed what they should do. He heard Isaura's concerns, and while she could be right that it would come crashing down by yanking on the door, it seemed stable enough to still be standing. He was certain that it was in decent enough shape to not collapse immediately they got inside or at the very least daring enough to want to tempt fate like that. Besides, he thought to himself, she needed to break out of her shell anyway and have some fun!
He bent down, grabbing hold of a decent sized rock, only to frown a bit when he felt it wasn't big enough, proceeding to chuck it far into the forest instead. It seemed Ignatius had a bit of his enthusiasm, and it fired him up to continue to search for a bigger rock, maybe a large enough tree branch, anything really for his plan. Though while he listened to his friend, he felt as if Ignatius were attempting to cling to Isaura as she clung to Sebastian.
Speaking of which, it seemed Sebastian at least shared some of Kestin's desire to get in, but he was way too passive about it. Or, maybe he was just messing around, Kestin couldn't really tell with how he decided to ask if any hobos were home. If it had taken the group this long to find such an interesting place, he doubted anyone else really know of it... Well, besides the people who probably lived here beforehand. But they surely couldn't be around with how run down the house currently was.
But luckily for Kestin, he managed to find a rather large stick, the largest one he felt he would spot in the area no less, and picked it up. While was surprisingly heavy to him, it could still be held and moved with just one hand, and that was all he needed for the remains of a window. It even seemed Connor had a similar idea, which didn't surprise Kestin at all.
"Yeah! I love it when you guys are feisty and wanna have fun, especially you Connor! just give me a couple seconds to..." He said, pausing near the end as he began to shatter the remaining glass that remained with the branch. He did his best at attempting to remove the jagged window pieces that had remained, and soon, it seemed relatively safe to go through. With a job well done, he tossed the branch off to the side, turning to face the group.
"And there we go! Who wants to be the lucky one to go in first? If we have no volunteers, I guess I could venture into this awesome place myself." He told them, giving off a confident and rather excited smile as he spoke. | Kestin Zane Alderson
Birthday
June 9th
Age
17
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Bisexual
Relationship Status
Single
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
N/A
Likes & Dislikes
• Winter weather
• Video Games
• Acting/Musicals
• Iced Coffee
• Jokes or puns
------------------------
• Dramas (They bore him)
• Shakespeare’s Tragedies
• Assholes
• Being bored
• A lack of motivation
Hobbies
• Singing
• Playing the violin
• Playing Video Games
Habits
• He likes to use hand gestures, such as a thumbs up instead of saying thanks or cool.
• Has a habit of saying crapbaskets instead of swearing.
• He'll sometimes sing song lyrics during regular conversations.
• He doesn't really like hugs or high fives.
Fears
• Acrophobia: The fear of heights. He hates heights with a passion.
• Athazagoraphobia: The fear of being forgotten.
• Atychiphobia: The fear of failure.
Personality
• Considerate • Impulsive • Adventurous • Patronizing
Biography
Kestin doesn’t really know about his real parents. He’s only heard rumors and stories that his new family has told him about, but they never would give the full story. All he knows is, it’s better this way to be away from them.
In his eyes, his journey into life began when he was adopted by Richard and Carolyn Alderson, who, due to recent events, decided to foster little Kestin due to his previous parents rather dangerous and disturbing behavior. It didn’t take long for them to get attached, and when his real parents were thrown in jail and deemed unfit to raise a child, the Aldersons eagerly jumped at the chance to provide young Kestin with a decent life. They treated him like he was their own child, and Kestin would have never guessed that he was adopted had he not been told when he got older. His siblings were still young when he joined the family, not fully aware of what was going on but accepting of him nonetheless. After all, they just assumed another stork had visited and delivered a young baby brother, partially past the infancy stage.
Growing up, he's always done his best to accomplish his own goals in a fun way, wanting to take life by the horns and steer it in the direction he chooses. He's grateful that it gave him a better chance of doing what he loves and the ability to pursue his own dreams or desires by being adopted. He may not know who his biological parents are, but he doesn't care for them anyway nor think of them. He often shudders to imagine what his life would be if circumstances had played out differently, but he doesn't dwell on it now that he knows he's adopted. If anything, it makes him more determined to make something of his life and really have fun with it. And while living in a small town for a majority of his life hasn't been the most amazing experience, he does his best to make the most of it. With his siblings in college and him practically being alone a majority of the time at the house due to his parents both working now, he's starting to find a lot more free time on his hands...
Family Members
Adoptive Father: Richard Alderson: 42, Works as a Doctor.
Adoptive Mother: Carolyn Alderson: 43, Works at a local diner.
Adoptive Brother: Skyler Alderson: 21, at college.
Adoptive Sister: Jennifer Alderson: 23, at college.
Biological Parents: Unknown
Your Mahlimae
7
Between Friends |
54,435 | 1,483 | 6 | 803 | 3,347 | Raven Newell
It was her favorite time of year. She wouldn't admit it, but she loved the holidays. She loved snow and cold. Bundled up in your home, drinking hot chocolate and watching a cheesy B-horror movie with the people she cared about. Thoughts raced endlessly about presents to buy, holiday plans, and so on. She wanted to pick up something special for her grandparents, she'd been saving up for it. A week long cruise for the both of them. They deserved it. It had all the accommodations the both of them would love. Rock climbing, scuba diving, and so on for grandma and bingo and jazz for grandpa.
It didn't hurt she'd be alone for a whole week.
As she traveled with her friends, she remembered fondly how she met all of them and how far she got. Her old self was harsh. Rebellious. She still had her moments, of course (she says with the pink hair), but it's mainly a way to show she isn't like the others. And it served as a reminder that she could still branch out so long as she remembers to reel it in.
When they came to the boarded up house. She had to admit, she was intrigued. "This is the part of the horror movie where the killer is spying on us, planning to take us out one by one. I wonder who would go first?" She joked with a sly grin on her face as she neared the door. She peeked around the boarded up windows. She wanted to explore and Kestin, it seemed, wanted to go in alone. "Oh no, don't think you're having all the fun. This house is practically made for me, I am definitely exploring. Question is...how do we get in?" | Raven Newell
Name
Raven Fiona Newell (Can go by Ray)
Birthday
July 2
Age
17
Gender
Female
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Relationship Status
Single
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
Ear piercings on both ears, two on left, three on right. Small tattoo of her mother's name on her right ankle
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
Painting
Cheesey Horror Movies
Sunflowers
Chocolate
Dislikes
Bullies
Gossip
Her Dad
Chess
Hobbies
Painting
Watching Movies
Jewelry Making
Habits
Clicking her fingernails together while reading
Chewing on the end of her paintbrush
Folding the corners of books to save her place
Fears
Public Embarrassment
Not seeing the bottom of a body of water
Being buried alive
Personality
• Clear-Headed • Secretive • Protective • Insecure •
Biography
One look at Raven and she is immediately put into the rebel category. While not so far from the truth, she isn't a rebel in the traditional sense. Coming from a broken home, she has had it rough growing up. Quick to anger at her father for abusing her mother constantly, and herself, she lashed out at school, at home, and pretty much anywhere. She would sneak out, get in trouble, and get arrested. It wasn't until her father killed her mother that she finally sobered up. Her father was arrested and she went to live with her grandparents. Instead of seeing a troubled child, they saw an interesting young woman who was dealt a bad hand and needed to vent. The outpouring of emotion she witnessed from them led her to turn her life around. While she still rebels a bit, she actually enjoys school and aims to be a social worker when she gets older. She paints as a means to let off stress. She doesn't back down from confrontation, defending those that can't defend themselves. She may look punk, but she is one person you'd want backing you up.
Family Members
Father: Rick Alster - Ravens's father. An alcoholic prone to anger. After killing her mother, he was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment. He hasn't had contact with his daughter. Yet.
Mother: Rose Newell - Raven's mother. A kind-hearted woman who tried to make the best of a bad situation and ended up paying the price for it. She was killed trying to protect Raven.
Grandmother: Florence Newell - Raven's grandmother. Not your typical grandmother though. She enjoys various activities like jogging in the park, rock climbing, and kick boxing. She does knit from time to time though (don't tell anyone).
Grandfather: Hector Newell - Raven's grandfather. Tries to keep up with his wife. He owns his own business as a tailor and does pretty well for himself. He tries to see the good in everyone unless they ruin their chance.
Your Mahlimae
Number 5
Relationships Between Friends
• Georgina Berglund
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Parker Quinn
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Sebastian Monroe
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Kestin Alderson
• "Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
• Connor Dunworth
•"Small thought about friend"
• A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you. |
54,436 | 1,483 | 7 | 605 | 606 | SebastianInteracting with: Everyone
Sebastian rolled his eyes as Connor pushed him aside, hopping up onto the rickety banister and hoping it would support his weight. To his surprise, while it did give a slight creak, the banister that surrounded the stairs was actually quite sturdy.
He watched the others as he gave a large yawn, not bothering to stifle it. As far as Sebastian was concerned, it was too damn early to be doing anything but sleeping or eating. He hated waking up at anytime before noon, which was probably unhealthy, but he wasn't too concerned about it. Anyone that was a dazzling ray of happy sunshine at six in the morning were Sebastian's mortal enemies.
The sound of glass shattering caused the boy to glance over his shoulder, seeing Kestin destroy the remains of a jagged window with a tree branch. Giving a slight chuckle, Sebastian lifted his legs over the banister and dropped into the desolate flowerbed that surrounded the edges of the house.
"Move your ass, pretty boy." Sebastian joked as he gave Kestin a playful shove to get him out of the way. As he squared up with the window, he realized that it was a small distance higher than it normally would be. The entire house was elevated, and this put the window roughly six feet above the ground.
Sebastian pulled off his jacket and ran towards the house, kicking off of the wall and boosting himself through the window. He held the jacket between his hands and the few sharp edges of glass in the window, however a small shard still sliced his finger as he unceremoniously fell into the house head first.
Inside, Sebastian muttered a few indistinguishable curses as he rubbed his head, letting his eyes adjust to the lower levels of light.
Mold, mildew, and cobwebs coated every inch of the place; carpets were black with mold, floorboards were rotting, and wallpaper was peeling. Sebastian's nose crinkled as an awful stench filled his nostrils, causing him to choke back his breakfast.
"On second thought, I shoulda let someone else go in first." Sebastian complained, getting to his feet. "It smells like dead people and shattered dreams in here."
He stood up and walked into the next room, cautiously eyeing the floorboards to make sure none of them gave out under his weight. Once he had given a quick glance around to make sure he was alone in the house, he unlocked the front door, leaning against the doorframe as Connor's face appeared behind the rotting wooden barrier. "Welcome to my humble abode!" | Sebastian Monroe
Name
Sebastian Christopher Monroe. Goes by Sebast.
Birthday
December 4th.
Age
17.
Gender
Male.
Sexuality
Bisexual.
Relationship Status
Single.
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
Sebastian has a tattoo on his right side of a tree growing from the base of his hip. His goal with the tattoo is to add pictures of his achievements to the tree as the branches grow across his back, so that in his old age he'll have a tree covering his back that holds the things most important to him.
Sebastian has a scar going from the right corner of his jaw down to his chin from an incident in his childhood.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Excitement
• Rivers
• Thrill of the moment decisions
• Acapella
• Elderly people
• Alcohol
Dislikes
• Sluggishness
• Cruelty
• Fire
• Pride
• People who can't keep their mouths shut
Hobbies
• Piano
• Running
• Singing
Habits
• Stroking the scar along his jaw
• Laughing a little too loud and a little too long
• Randomly switching in and out of vulgar speech patterns
• Acting impulsively before thinking about the consequences
• Staying active through the night and sleeping through the day
• Drinking to distract himself
Fears
• Burning
• Isolation
• Physical abuse
• Rejection
Personality
• Energetic • Temptable • Caring • Distrusting •
Biography
Sebastian was born in the cold months, the youngest of three. His sister Marissa was six years old when he was born. Sebastian never really knew his eldest sibling, Rachel, incredibly well. She was ten when he was born and she left the small Iowa town for college the day she was old enough. Marissa and Sebastian grew up closely, however they eventually became distant when their parents began to have issues with their marriage. Events such as alcoholism and verbal abuse slowly became more commonplace in the Monroe household, until eventually Marissa and Sebastian came to expect it. The middle child followed in her sister's footsteps and left the small town as soon as possible. After living in a troubled household for a few years by himself, Sebastian soon began to distance himself from his parents.
Spending more time with friends after school, looking for people to teach him piano, running track, anything to escape his family. He wasn't truly in danger at home, however it was usually unpleasant. Despite his sisters' actions and his parents poor parenting, Sebastian is determined not to leave Alta Vista. This is hometown and he won't abandon it.
Side note: His parents relationship has improved significantly over the years, however there are still isolated incidents of violence (mental, verbal, and twice physical), but they are on the mend.
Family Members
• Father: James Monroe. 49. Carpenter.
• Mother: Susan Monroe. 47. Housewife.
• Sister: Rachel Monroe. 25. Physician.
• Sister: Marissa Monroe. 23. Psychologist.
Your Mahlimae
One
Relationships Between Friends
• Georgina Anne Berglund:
• "There are some people in your life that are just meant to be there, y'know?"
• Gina and Sebast both grew up in Alta Vista, meeting each other in their younger years via their mothers. Their relationship has been healthy for both of them throughout. Gina tends to make sure Sebast doesn't make too many stupid decisions, and he helps her not get completely absorbed in something to the point of obsession. Sebastian depends upon Gina to keep him steady. He trusts her pretty much the most out of anyone.
• Parker Quinn:
• Quote about friend.
• Description!
• Raven Newell:
• Quote about friend.
• Description!
• Kestin Alderson:
• Quote about friend.
• Description! |
54,437 | 1,483 | 8 | 2,618 | 2,984 | Isaura Reese Eldars
Location: The Abandoned Building - Alta Vista.
Interacting With: Georgina Anne Berglund (), Sebastian Monroe (), Ignatius Maddox llywelyn (), Connor Dunworth (), Kestin Alderson (), and Raven Newell ().
“..a-ah...”
The feeling of an arm wrapping around her middle caused her to lift her head, her soft pink lips parting ever so slightly from one another as she was pulled back, the warmth of Sebastian’s embrace ripped away from her and instead replaced by that of another. It wasn’t the first time she’d been pulled away from one of her friends, and she was more than sure that it wasn’t going to be the last. Especially when it came to Sebastian and Ignatius; she tended to get passed around quite a bit.
“Come on now, Isiesaura! Don’t be a party pooper!”
Her head turning as she felt her back pressing against the warmth of another, Isaura lifted her gaze up, her dark eyes meeting with that of Ignatius as she listened to him speak, the smile she knew she wanted to show never seeming to come to the light of day as she shook her head, causing her long dark locks to brush back and forth over her shoulders with the action. It wasn’t that she was being a party pooper... or if she was, it wasn’t as though she was going around doing it on purpose; she was just worried. She couldn’t count how many times they had trudged, both willingly and unwillingly through the forests and the town... the number was just too high, and she had lost track so long ago. But what she was sure of was that never before had she ever come across this house... and either way, she didn’t have a good feeling about it...
“..Iggie, stop... I’m not being a party pooper; I’m just trying to be reasonable... I-...” Pausing a moment, she glanced back over to the house, watching on as one by one her friends moved closer to it, some of them with the same idea as they began to try and get inside, “..I just don’t think this is a very good idea...”
Dropping her attention down to the ground in front of her, Isaura sighed softly. Maybe she was being a bit of a downer… but really, could they blame her for being cautious..? None of them were. All they wanted was to rush into things without thinking; and nine times out of ten she was dragged into it. Heh, but then again, that was the issue when you hard a hard time saying no to those you cared about. Her mind pulled away from her current train of thought, Isaura’s body was spun around on the spot, surprise flickering across her features as she lifted her attention up, her dark eyes meeting with that of Ignatius as she brought both her hands up, letting them come to a rest over his chest.
“It will be alright! We just won’t yank the door hard. Have I ever led you astray, dear Isaura?”
He had a point... between he and the others, she had rarely ever been let down or led astray. They had all been there for her at one point or another; lending her an ear, picking her up when she was down, making her feel like she had a place she truly belonged... Whenever she was with them, she felt brave... like she could do anything she wanted to; but even so...
“Well… no, but-...”
Her attention drawn away from him at the sound of a muffled ‘thud’, Isaura tore her gaze away from him, her dark eyes instead turning to look up at the building in time to see Sebastian’s familiar figure disappear through the broken window. And there it was again, clear proof that it was far too early in the morning for any of them to be doing anything other that sleeping because, obviously, no one but her thought this might have been a bad idea.
Shifting nervously in his arms, she kept her eyes trained on the door, watching... waiting... and once she saw it open to reveal her best friend standing unscathed behind it, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had even been holding. She couldn’t believe it, he was joking around... they all were. Shaking her head lightly from side to side, Isaura dropped her head, her eyes closing as she tried to shove the thoughts out of her mind. Okay, so yeah, she was being a downer... but it wasn’t as though she wanted to be, “I-... I am not going in there- it doesn’t look stable... I don’t trust it... and besides...”
Pausing, she lifted her head back up, her worried gaze meeting with Ignatius’ before she turned it back to the house in question, her fingers curling lightly over his chest as she seemed to press herself closer against him, “..something about this just doesn’t feel right...” | Name:
Isaura Reese Eldars.
Nick-Names:
Issie, Saura, Reese.
Gender:
Female.
Age:
Seventeen Years Old.
Birthday:
21st of October.
Sexuality:
Heterosexual/ Straight.
Relationship Status:
Single (Never Been In A Relationship).
Distinguishing Features:
Though never really talking about it without first needing to be asked, Isaura has a small (however meaningful) tattoo situated just behind her right ear; the tattoo itself both chosen and done without the knowledge, or even the permission of her sister- and while she knows Seraphina wouldn't exactly understand, she plans on getting another when she feels like the time is right. Aside from this, Isaura has both her ears pierced like a majority of girls her age.
Her Leukemia:
Leukemia is a type of malignancy (cancer) of blood cell; in luekemia, abnormal blood cells are produced within the bone marrow- the cells that are responsible for fighting off infection- however, the abnormal cells within leukemia don’t function in the same way as normal white blood cells. The leukemia cells continue to both grow and divide, eventually crowding out the normal blood cells, and more times than none the end result is that it becomes too difficult for the body to continue fighting off infections, to control bleeding, and to transport oxygen to where it is most needed.
There are different types of leukemia, each based upon how quickly the disease develops over the course of time, and the type of abnormal cells produced.
The exact cause of leukemia is not known, however, it is thought to involve a combination of genetic and environmental factors. Leukemia cells have acquired mutations in their DNA that cause them to grow abnormally, and to lose functions of typical white blood cells; though it is not clear what causes these mutations to occur. One type of change in the cells DNA that is common in leukemias is known as a chromosome translocation. In this process, a portion of one chromosome breaks off and attaches to a different chromosome. One translocation seen in almost all cases of CML, and sometimes in other types of leukemia is an exchange of DNA between chromosomes ‘nine’ and ‘twenty-two’, which leads to what is known as the Philadelphia chromosome. This creates an oncongene (cancer-promoting gene) known as BCR-ABL; this change in DNA is not inherited, but occurs sometime in the life of the affected individual.
Most cases of leukemia are not believed to be hereditary, however certain genetic mutations and conditions can be passed along to offspring that increase the chances of developing leukemia. A condition known as Li-Fraumeni syndrome is characterized by an inherited mutation in a tumor suppressor gene known as TP53, and individuals with this condition have an increased risk of leukemia and other cancers. Other hereditary conditions that can increase the risk of developing leukemia include down syndrome, neurofibromatosis type one, ataxia telangiectasia, and Noonan syndrome.
Signs and Symptoms of Leukemia:
Symptoms and signs of leukemia depend upon the type of leukemia; slow-growing or chronic leukemia may not cause any symptoms at the outset, while aggressive or rapidly growing leukemia may lead to severe symptoms. The symptoms of leukemia arise from a loss of function of the normal blood cells or accumulation of the abnormal cells in the body.
Signs and symptoms of leukemia typically include the following:
⚜ Fevers.
⚜ Night Sweats.
⚜ Swollen lymph nodes that are usually painless.
⚜ Feelings of fatigue, tiredness.
⚜ Easy bleeding or bruising, causing bluish or purplish patches on the skin or tiny red spots on the skin, or recurring nosebleeds.
⚜ Frequent infections.
⚜ Bone or joint pain.
⚜ Weight loss that is otherwise unexplained, or loss of appetite.
⚜ Enlargement of the spleen or liver, which can lead to abdominal pain or swelling.
⚜ Red spots on the skin (petechiae).
However, if leukemia cells have infiltrated the brain, symptoms such as headaches, seizures, confusion, loss of muscle control, and vomiting can also occur.
Treatment for Leukemia:
There are a number of different medical approaches to the treatment of leukemia. Treatment will typically depend upon the type of leukemia, the patient's age and health status, as well as whether or not the leukemia cells have spread to the cerebrospinal fluid. The genetic changes or specific characteristics of the leukemia cells as determined in the laboratory can also determine the type of treatment that may be most appropriate.
Watchful waiting may be an option for some people with a chronic leukemia who do not have symptoms. This involves close monitoring of the disease so that treatment can begin when symptoms develop. Watchful waiting allows the patient to avoid or postpone the side effects of treatment. The risk of waiting is that it may eliminate the possibility of controlling the leukemia before it worsens.
Treatments for leukemia include chemotherapy (major treatment modality for leukemia), radiation therapy, biological therapy, targeted therapy, and stem cell transplant. Combinations of these treatments may be used.
Many patients opt to receive a second opinion before beginning treatment for leukemia. In most cases, there is time to receive a second opinion and consider treatment options without making the treatment less effective. However, in rare cases of very aggressive leukemias, treatment must begin immediately. Someone should discuss with a doctor the possibility of obtaining a second opinion and any potential delays in treatment. Most doctors welcome the possibility of a second opinion and will not be offended by a patient's wish to obtain one.
Treatment and Survival Rate for Leukemia:
Treatment may involve some combination of chemotherapy, radiation therapy, targeted therapy, and bone marrow transplant, in addition to supportive care and palliative care as needed. Certain types of leukemia may be managed with watchful waiting. The success of treatment depends on the type of leukemia and the age of the person. Outcomes have improved in the developed world. The average five-year survival rate is 57% in the United States.
Likes:
✔ Animals of all kinds.
✔ Cuddling with her friends, and others she cares about.
✔ Hot chocolates and marshmallows.
✔ Strawberries and pomegranates.
✔ Music; especially singing and playing the piano.
✔ Bubblegum, and the color pink.
✔ Reading (Fantasy mostly).
✔ Living the rest of her life to the fullest.
Dislikes:
✘ Her leukemia and chemotherapy.
✘ Being left completely alone.
✘ Being treated differently.
✘ People who underestimate or look down on her.
✘ Having to say goodbye to those she loves.
✘ Bullies, and people who abuse others.
✘ Being told what she can and can't do.
Hobbies:
⚜ Multi-lingual- raised by her older sister, and looking up to her, Isaura very quickly took to her sister's love of learning new languages, and can so far speak, read and write in English, Spanish, French, German, and Chinese.
⚜ Musical- exceptionally gifted when it comes to the musical arts, Isaura is exceedingly skilled when it comes to both singing, and playing the piano, causing some (in the past) to state that she has the 'voice of an angel'.
⚜ Photography- quite the sentimental person and wanting to cherish every memory that she possibly can, Isaura loves taking photos with her family and friends, and has a collection of photo-books and frames placed around her room, as well as a collage on the wall over her bed, filled with photos that she has taken throughout her life so far.
⚜ Riding skills- an extreme and intense love of riding which has been nurtured since she was only a young girl; Isaura is able to ride horses.
Habits:
۞ Sometimes grows quiet and sad when left to her own thoughts for too long.
۞ Oftentimes switches between the various languages she knows whenever her emotions get the better of her.
۞ Tends to chew gently on her nails whenever she's reading or concentrating on something.
Fears:
☠ Swimming, and deep water (strong life-threatening fear).
☠ Riding bikes of any kind (doesn't know how).
☠ Telling her friends about her Leukemia (hasn't told anyone).
☠ Being forgotten by those that she cares about when she's gone...
Personality:
♦ Extremely Kind-Hearted ♦ Rather Stubborn ♦ Overly Helpful ♦ Shy and Modest ♦ Exceedingly Mature ♦ Slightly Guarded ♦ Quite Bubbly ♦
Considered to be an extremely kind, and gentle old soul to all those she has the pleasure of meeting, Isaura is an exceedingly sweet and charming young lady; full of both grace and kindness, the rather dreamy-eyed girl is shown to care deeply for all those she believes herself to be close to, showering her friends and family with the love and affection she believes them to be deserving of, no matter who might think otherwise. So overly curious, and just full of life, Isaura tends to find herself (more often than not) walking into some sort of trouble, much to her older sister's dismay; the bubbly teenager's recently found confidence and self-belief in herself growing significantly over the years, despite the seriously deteriorating status of her health, helping her to see the friends she has made as figures that are approachable, offering them both council and comfort whenever any of them seem to need it, oftentimes spending her nights (when the times become too hard to bear, or when the pain of missing her parents becomes too much) sitting in the company of her friends or sister, causing them to worry about her throughout the daytime whenever it seems she has returned back to her normal, cheerful self without so much as a word.
Though coming off as sometimes shy at first when a situation seems to overwhelm her, Isaura does her best to carry herself with both grace and dignity though the hardship that gets thrown her way thanks to the limited time she has left on Earth; the sweet-natured girl never really shows any signs that she is willing to allow her illness, or her older sister's overly protective and cautious temperament to get in the way of her living her life the way that she wants to- the young woman never seeming to have any issues with putting herself out there for others to see, and having no problems whenever it comes to being an open book, or making friends; and as the years have passed her by, Isaura quickly learnt, and began to stand up for herself against those who try to put her down.
Unafraid to berate, or to challenge people in positions of power; Isaura has, over time, managed to confide in those that she trusts so completely that she oftentimes finds it quite difficult to express what it is that she truly feels within her heart, however, the fast-thinking young woman is quick to speak up, defending not only her friends, but also those of whom she believes are being treated unfairly against anyone who goes against what she believes in her heart, whether that be friend, family, or even foe. Although a kind and graceful soul, Isaura is known for being quite stubborn whenever it comes to something that she truly believes in; always choosing to stand up for it, rather than backing down once she has already made up her mind, usually making it near impossible to convince the girl otherwise.
Extremely mature, and oddly grown-up for her age thanks to living her whole life under the influence of her older sister, Isaura oftentimes does all that she can to not be, or be considered a 'burden' to those she cares about in her life; the young woman doing everything she can and more to help out her sister (cooking, cleaning, etc.) and friends (helping with homework, advice, etc.); even going so far as to sometimes choosing to put her own needs aside in favor of others, no matter how difficult the task may seem for her- the girl trying her best at everything, and anything that she seems to set her mind to. Seen to be exceedingly beautiful to all those who meet her, Isaura (more times than none) attracts the attention of many a person who crosses paths with her; whether they meet with one another on purpose, or by pure accident- though despite her undeniably inherited beauty, Isaura is not a vain young lady; the curious young woman always seeming to surprise those she holds dear to her heart, even when they themselves believe that they know everything about her, she always seems to find new ways to both stun and amaze them.
Coming across at times as being quietly confident, and extremely calm, Isaura has shown herself to be more than capable of becoming quite aggressive whenever her friends are shown to be in danger, or in the line of fire so to say; tremendously brave and courageous whenever the situation calls for her to be, the usually dreamy and extremely loyal young woman is unafraid to fight back against those doing wrong, however, she is quite quick to try and hide her more vulnerable side... to varying levels of success. Seen to be both a kind and gentle girl, Isaura sometimes tends to pull away from the company of others, becoming quite reserved and thoughtful, choosing instead to lose herself within her own mind, and oftentimes, in her own little world.
Unnaturally bright, and rather unique in her own way, Isaura has quite the aptitude for thinking outside of the box on general occasion; always seeming to come up with strange ideas that would otherwise be considered to be strange and impossible, however even with that, the young woman is always doing her best to stay positive... and to not worry her friends with thoughts that she might not be around for very much longer.
Biography:
Born the second child to her parents, Isaura was quickly pulled into, and raised with a deep respect towards both her homeland and heritage; the young girl both loved and cherished within her families home. Soon growing into a charming young girl, becoming more and more outgoing with each day that passed her by; Isaura's life was turned upside-down and brought to a complete standstill when she not only lost both of her parents in a tragic car accident, but also when after a few visits to the hospital, the worst was confirmed and her health began to deteriorate due to being diagnosed leukemia.
Knowing full well that they both needed a fresh start, Seraphina gathered up Isaura and eventually, the both of them left Australia. Refusing to be separated from little sister after all that they had been through, Seraphina took on several jobs, gathering the money that the both of them needed and began to after, and raise Isaura in the way that their parents raised her. Years later, and now living as comfortably and as normal a life as she can given her circumstances, Isaura does all that she can to deal with the obstacles that life seems intent on throwing her way; the young woman determined to do all that she can to make sure that her older sister's hard work never goes to waste... even though she knows that the day she'll need to say goodbye is coming.
Family Members:
Father: Rion Eldars (Deceased).
Mother: Erani Marie Eldars (Deceased).
Siblings: Seraphina Eldars (Older Sister).
Pet/s: Though she loves animals of all kinds, Isaura does not own or care for any pets of her own, and flat out refuses and constantly denies that she ever wants one, knowing that it would only be another heart to break when the time comes that she needs to say goodbye.
Isaura's Mahlimae:
Isaura's Mahlimae is number eight.
Relationships Between Friends:
۞ Georgina Anne Berglund ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Parker Quinn ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Raven Newell ۞
"𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁... 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎; 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝓉."
۵ Oftentimes finding themselves bonding with each other over things like books, movies, and their undeniable love of the color pink; Raven, over the years since having left Australia, has very quickly become one of her closest friends following the move to Alta Vista. Able to open up to her about a good majority of things that she feels as though she can't speak about with the others; the two of them tend to spend a good majority of their time together chilling out on the couch, watching Netflix and drinking hot chocolate.
۞ Sebastian Monroe ۞
"𝒮𝑒𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃'𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉-𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔..! 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒... 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂."
۵ One of the very first people she met after moving to Alta Vista, and now holding the title of one of her best friends; Sebastian has always been one of the few people that she trusts so completely. With a shared love of both playing the piano and singing with one another; Sebastian never fails to give her the courage and hope that she needs to continue living the remainder of her life, or to be there for her whenever she needs a shoulder to cry on.
۞ Kestin Zane Alderson ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Connor Dunworth ۞
"𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒."
۵ A little more in depth relationship. This will change as the roleplay goes on. People can become closer, farther apart. Even romance can blossom. It's all up to you.
۞ Ignatius Maddox llywelyn ۞
"..𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹..! 𝒯-𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓉... 𝒾𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒾𝓉..?"
۵ The second of her best friends, and a constant in her life from her very first day in Alta Vista; Ignatius has always been the one to lift her up whenever she was feeling down. Trusting him with almost every little thing in her life, there's rarely ever a secret that they keep from one another. Basically always found in one another's company; Ignatius continuously helps to bring fun into her life, and never fails to bring a smile back to her features. Endlessly teased at, and told that they should just hurry up and 'get together'; the both of them just seem to laugh it off while never actually discussing the topic of their feelings towards one another... not that they have any... There's no way he could like her... could he..? |
54,438 | 1,483 | 9 | 377 | 25,986 | Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Ignatius looked over at Sebastian and grinned, ”Ah, Sebby! Creepy is the best, don’t you think? So many wonderful things in creepy” he chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement, as he watched one of his best friends move towards the house. How could he ever be jealous of Sebastian? Sebastian was a brother to him, but...it was Isaura. His Isaura. Maybe he was going crazy. It wouldn’t surprise him. A laugh suddenly escaped him at Connor’s words.
”Oh, Conny, Conny, Con, con conner!” He chanted out, eyes alight, and voice full of merriment, ”I live every day to its fullest!” He laughed again, humming slightly. He turned his full attention to Isaura again, meeting her eyes, her deep, beautiful eyes that he could just lose himself in. And that, if he was being entirely truthful, he had a time or two. There was just something about Isaura, that he could never quite put his finger on. Something that drew him to her, and kept him there. ”Oh, Isie! If we didn’t do things because we had a bad feeling about them….then we wouldn’t live!” He said rather dramatically, ever the one for dramatics and flare. He chuckled, and hugged Isaura to him, enjoying her warmth, and the contact with her.
Soft, warm, and so very Isaura. He couldn’t really describe it. She was just...she made him laugh, made him smile, kept him from being a complete fool, and..she made him feel special. Even if she didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, she made him a better person, in every possible way. He looked down at her as she shifted, seemingly uneasily, and he gave her a small squeeze, looking about them. It appeared in the few moments he’d been….absorbed by Isaura, the others had been acting. Sebastian’s disappearance could only mean one thing-the scrawny little bugga had made his way in the house, through the window. He watched, waiting, ready to run in there and drag his butt back out if required, his grip tightening on Isaura slightly as he stood there, a little tense.
And then he appeared again, opening the door and Ignatius let out a slow breath. He looked down at Isaura again, as she pressed against him, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his features. He tightened his grip on her again, as if he could quite easily just...not let her go. What was he going to do? There was just so much...emotion. He sighed softly, and shifted, not letting Isaura go. ”You’re right, it doesn’t look stable. In fact, it looks like it might just fall over with a gust of strong wind. Like the three little pigs and the big bad wolf” He said, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in an explosive puff, with a menacing face, before he broke it, and smiled.
He let it fade after a moment, looking back to the cottage. ”Normally I wouldn’t want you doing anything that freaked you out...but Sebastian is in there, and you know he’ll get into trouble without us, or rather, without you...” he said softly, looking back to her, a little worried. He wouldn’t go in, if she wasn’t. He wasn’t about to leave her out here by herself, and maybe they could talk….or maybe he’d just make a fool of himself. He didn’t even know what was wrong with him. ”Come on Seb, get your butt out here, it doesn’t seem pleasant in there, at least from your expression! I don’t want to have to uncover your butt from the wreckage if that thing falls on you, not if it stinks!” He said, tone amused once more, although he didn’t mean to joke. He tried to see behind Sebastian, frowning slightly. It didn’t look like the inside was better than the outside-in fact, it looked a hell of a lot worse. | Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Name
Ignatius Maddox llywelyn
Birthday
31st December 1999
Age
17 years old
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Straight
Relationship Status
Single
Scars, Tattoos, Piercings
He has a tattoo on his left shoulder blade, that has a special meaning to him.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes
• Sunny days
• Music
• Cats and dogs
• making people laugh
Dislikes
• Bullies
• doing nothing
• Chili
• rain
Hobbies
• Writing music
• sports
• being in the lime light, doing ANYTHING
Habits
• He has a bad habit of fidgeting. All the time.
• Doodling
• tapping his fingers to a rhythm
Fears
• The dark
• Heights
• Losing someone important to him
Personality
• Cheery • Doesn't know when enough is enough • Friendly • overbearing •
"I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you surely don’t deserve me at my best."
Marilyn Monroe
Ignatius is a cheery sort. If anyone is to be found spontaneously breaking into song and dance, it would be Iggy. He gets caught up in the excitement of the moment and wants everyone else to feel that way too. He is generous with his time and energy, enjoying encouraging others, in an irresistible style.
He is a born entertainer, loving the spotlight, he typically enjoys putting on a show for his friends, chatting in an unique way with earthy wit, soaking up any attention he gets and making any outing feel like a party. Completely Social, Iggy enjoys the simple things, and there is no greater joy for him then just having fun with a good group of people.
He has a strong aesthetic sense of style, taking time to groom and choose brilliant outfits, even if he is just at home, having an eye for fashion, he knows whats attractive the moment they see it.
At times, though it may not always seem like it, Iggy knows that its not all about him, he is particularly observant and sensitive to others emotions, and will typically be the first to help someone, to talk out a problem or even to just be there, providing emotional support and advice. However, he is more then likely to avoid a conflict if the problem is about him.
Biography
Ignatius grew up just like any other kid. He was bright, and bubbly, always doing what he thought was fun, was amazing, was enjoyable. He didn't really care for boundaries, and thus, he got into a lot of trouble .Especially at school. It wasn't that he wasn't smart-Iggy is rather bright for his age, hiding an intelligence behind his eyes that no many see, it was more that nothing seemed to hold his attention.
When he was 13, he suddenly found himself an older brother, to a beautiful, cheeky girl, Kalinda. He doted on the girl, always finding ways to be in her life, to enjoy teaching her how to get in trouble. When he was 16, Ignatius found his life shattered, when a drunk drive crashed into his then three year old sister, killing her instantly.
Ignatius grew distant from just about everyone for a time, his grades dropping, and his persoanlity shifting to one so far from his true self, that his parents were worried that he was going to kill himself. They sought help for him, and he is getting back to normal.
Family Members
Mother, Michelle llywelyn
Father, Jacobite llywelyn
younger Sister, deceased, Kalinda llywelyn
Your Mahlimae
Number two
Relationships Between Friends
• Friend Name Goes Here:
• "Small thought about friend"
• |
54,439 | 1,484 | 0 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Outside, the native breeze of Germany gently kisses the rotted wood of the wilted barn that a dejected black van is parked underneath, standing on its loft is a man - Caucasian, black turtleneck, black cargo pants, carrying a heavily customized MP5 with a magical seal inscribed on its reflective surface. He adjusts his baseball cap, slipping it off and wiping his forehead with it, these Magi, however young were also heavy, one hundred pounds is one hundred pounds, no matter what form it comes in, and carrying them up a tedious century old ladder had left him a little winded. All six of them are placed in a neat circle in front of arduously carved summoning circles, each of which are, with out a doubt to the eye of a magus, meant to summon Servants in the event of a holy grail war. The man looming over them keeps the same complexion he had worn through the entire process, annoyed grimace, bored eyebrows, unfurled nose, upright posture, he circles around them slowly, a hunting knife blinking into existence in his right hand "Okay." he says to himself, squeezing its handle "Awaken." he commands, the breeze turning to a mighty gust for a split second.
The moss covered barn shudders and shakes as Prana ceases to exist with a ghastly shriek, sailing through the humid atmosphere, and dispersing with a hiss similar to ember colliding with water. Each of the Magi may have been restrained in different places, but the memory is all the same - a firm hand on the back, in between their shoulder blades; and the cold sensation of their circuits being invaded by a stranger. It was unpleasant, in every sense of the word, and the process of awakening from their slumber even more so, the magical hangover is so intense, in fact, that each Magus finds it hard to notice a wrist being gripped by the same icy hand. The unforgiving edge of a blade licks the surface of each Magus' palm, and draws blood endowed with Prana, which drips on their assigned summoning circles. The immediate reaction from each rune, each narrow line the crimson liquid touches is a fiery flash of energy, which travels through the circle and envelopes it in blue flame, the contract is made, and each circle reaches out to the Throne of Heroes, and calls upon six servants: Archer, Saber, Lancer, Assassin, Berserker, and Caster. The MP5 disappears, and the 'Ashen Mandrake' stands in front of the barn's single window with his arms crossed. Moonlight floods into the loft, and the long shadow of Executioner dances across the moss covered floor boards beneath each Master. "Hello." he greets with a gruff, hollow voice "And welcome to the Sixth Holy Grail War." | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,440 | 1,484 | 1 | 1,726 | 596 | Lycusio slowly awoke with a grimace plastered on his face, his stern eyes slowly swept over the area around him, glancing at the other surrounding magi before finally placing his gaze on the Executioner. Shaking his bleeding hand slightly with a frown, he slowly sits up with a heavy slouch, smacking his lips with a sigh of discomfort. "Okaayy..." Lycusio mutters with a slur, his eyes staring at the Executioner as his situation comes back to him, "So, Holy Grail... what? Sorry, I'm kind of busy on vacation, y'know? No offense but I don't really have time to play pretend." He muttered to himself, his voice heavily accented and somewhat apologetic.
Lycusio eventually stood with a heavy grunt, his stiff muscles protesting at his every movement. As he scanned over the other magi, he slowly tensed, realizing the oddity of the situation. Pressing his lips firmly together, Lycusio straightened his suit with a swipe of his hand and looked the structure over for any escape routes. | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: Arabic/German/English/Russian
Rudimentary: Cantonese/Mandarin/Turkish/Indo-Aryan
Affiliation:
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 211 lb
Place of Origin: Middle East, Gaza Strip
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. , based as a family company in Germany, with the original name of Holz Security Services. The company soon branched out as an international armory corporation, taking full and unadulterated advantage of the warfare in the Middle East. Fighting for the highest bidder, Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. eventually obtained the assets to match any Middle Eastern army in a frontal conflict on its own.
Executive and son of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.’s chairman, Beringer Holz discovered a child on an expedition through a border town in which the boy was the only standing body amongst corpses. Malnourished and on the verge of death, the child arrived at the mercenary’s settlement with Beringer. Nursed back to health, the child provided ample entertainment for Beringer, and soon, the executive found a use for the child. Giving the child the name Lycusio Vicario, and taught him up from down. At 10, Lycusio was mentored in military arts, he became masterful in multiple forms of combat, especially close combat, as to serve as a competent body guard for Beringer. At 16, Lycusio was taught languages, etiquette, and politics; he became the representative of Beringer and filled in for the gatherings that his mentor did not care to attend. At 18, Lycusio became the right hand man of Beringer. Taking over for a great deal of Beringer’s responsibilities, Beringer’s sector of mercenary activity became especially prosperous and he became increasingly close with Lycusio. The two, fabled in ruthlessness and effectiveness, became the most prominent branch of the Holz Mercenary Co. and Lycusio soon rose into the upper echelons of the powerful corporation.
Amidst a covert operation, Beringer and Lycusio were en route to an area of negotiation when the small convoy escort was ambushed. The two fled with their escorts into a nearby building, where they withstood a continuous onslaught for something close to an hour. Eventually Beringer was gunned down executioner style on the rooftop of the building, but before Lycusio shared the same fate, he flew into a rage. Utilizing his hands and other’s weapons alone, he massacred the remaining ambushers. He received multiple gun wounds amidst the melee and was once more upon the fringe of death when he was retrieved by members of the Holz mercenary group.
During his recovery, Lycusio was sent on leave back to Germany where he recovered in the peace of a first world country. There, Lycusio became the heir of Beringer’s branch of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. but has yet to return to his front, remaining in Germany due to his injuries, emotional barriers, and the melodic daily life of a peaceful valley in the country of his newfound home.
Recently Lycusio met a mysterious former Magus who taught him the basics of his body’s circuits, to the point that he can use reinforcement magic on himself, but nothing else.
Lycusio grew up seeing the worst of the world. For most of his life, all he knew was war and the politics involved. Only recently has he began to enjoy the merits of a first world country, thus he is rather helpless in anything beyond fighting. Having gone through a nearly endless amount of strife from fighting on both the military front as well as the political front, Lycusio is fairly docile and his thirst for fighting has been completely and totally exhausted.
Growing up under Beringer’s wing, Lycusio adapted his mentor’s slightly twisted sense of justice as well as the need to uphold his mentor’s beliefs. He also has a sense of suspicion towards all others due to the fact that he is so well versed in deceit.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: A- |
54,441 | 1,484 | 2 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Darryl appeared dazed and confused like everyone else, but in actuality he'd been jolted wide awake by a sudden burst of adrenaline the moment the spell was released and had been trying to adequately piece things together since then.
First I was in the Clocktower. Then I went to the library. This doesn't look like London or even England, and it sure as bloody fucking hell isn't a library. So something must have happened. What next? I checked out a book. Okay, what kind of book? Anything dangerous, forbidden knowledge man was not meant to know. No, it was a book on nordic runes vs. celtic ones, and I fell asleep reading it in the librar. Does that mean this is a dream then? No, too real. I wouldn't have the contingencies I came up with for situations like this if it was a dream. Which means...
Darryl's mind raced with the possibilities. So it's true then...
Doing everything he could to not let on that he was awake and self-aware, Darryl quietly drew runes over the circle in front of him, chanting in Gaelic. If someone was going to use his blood to summon a Servant, it was going to be one that he wanted. | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,442 | 1,484 | 3 | 1,278 | 8,110 | It was all like a distant dream for the Spirit resting upon the cradle of the Throne of Heroes. Everything, her life, the times when she had been, is and will be summoned to service by Gaia, all of that just a vague dream that lasts for eternity.
And then she heard a call, like the sound of a thousand chimes ringing in harmony. Yes, she knew what that meant, someone other than Gaia was trying to bring a shard of her into the world with some complicated magic ritual that was beyond the Spirit's grasp, for it was always one who lived by the blade and spear, instead of by the book and staff. To the Spirit was promised the chance to have a wish, anything that she might desire, in reward for her servitude to a human that she would be calling Master until this summon had ended.
The Spirit accepted the deal, not because she had any strong wish that she needed fulfilled, but because she wanted once more to thread the lands once ruled by her in times long since gone on the mortal world with her own feet, despite knowing that only a mere projection of her would be taking part in the ritual known as The Holy Grail War. To the Spirit were granted both knowledge of the world and of languages, everything that she would need to not be shocked into inaction when confronted with the advances that humans have reach over the course of the history, as well as a class, the definition and restraint of her abilities while the summoning lasts.
From now on, the Spirit of the once brave hero would be Saber, the Knight of the Sword, most skilled of all Servants to take part in the Holy Grail War "Fitting." Saber thought as her vision faded to black.
Once she regained sight, Saber was inside of a dark chamber were many humans, no doubt magi were around summoning circles meant to draw other Servants into the world. The men in front of her -her masters, very much probably- were curved in a lanky posture, as if he had been hit with a strong blow in the head and so were all of the others.
The small girl clad in a suit of heavy plate armor scanned the room once more before addressing her master and noticed an imposing man looking outside of the windows with his arms crossed behind his back. "This is not how this should work, Gaia didn't told anything about this situation. For now I think that it's better to just wait and see what happens." Saber thought before finally turning around to address the men in front of her.
"I, Servant Saber, came forth in answer to your summons." Saber said with a firm voice as she stared both men with the imposing eyes of one who once ruled one of the greatest empires of human history, before continuing "Thus, I ask of you. Art thou my master?" | Removed, 'cause this really doesn't belong here. |
54,443 | 1,484 | 4 | 2,319 | 356 | Perhaps events would run smoothly this time, and maybe her wish could finally be granted. These were the thoughts that swum through the minds of the servant that would be known as Caster as the aspect of her being that was recorded in the Throne of Heroes was emulated and fit into the class container most suited for mages. As the grail bestowed upon Caster necessary knowledge of the modern world and the basic workings of the grail war ritual, Caster immediately felt apprehension in regards to the capacity of this ritual. Even though the amount of prana harnessed from this ritual would surely be massive, would it truly be enough to displace her true existence that was nestled outside of the very throne itself? Regardless, there was no downside in participating and trying, and Caster was never one to dwell on trifling subtleties. Her goal was clear: slaughter the other servants and obtain the holy grail. Quite a simple one, and Caster felt from her well deserved pride confidence that she would not strain against but the most splendid of heroes. It was quite the thrilling anticipation to have the opportunity to test the steel of heroes from all ranges of culture and land, and Caster, though she was well versed in the manners of heroes and could be said to have become all too accustomed to greatness, could not turn down the thrilling rush of combat where both mind and body were pushed. She also possessed a distinct pride that lent her towards expressing the fruits of her training with great confidence, and what better stage to perform than on a platform designated for a clash between the cusps of human accomplishment?
As her form materialized in a shower of grainy bistre energy to produce the image of an imposing woman with mellow red hair, crimson colored eyes and a form garbed in a flowing black robe that obscured all of her body aside from her neck and face, Caster immediately perceived the atmosphere around her room was not one in orderly conditions for summoning. There were six other summoning circles, and already there was another servant summoned. As soon as her crimson red eyes locked onto the form of this little girl, Caster immediately tensed her body instinctively, her hands balling into fists as she realized she had no weapon to wield under the Caster class. Would it be prudent to strike down all those in this room immediately? Certainly Caster had the means to do so, discounting that the knight classes did not possess magic resistance of sufficient rank. Even so, the masters around her that were enfeebled in some way would not emerge unscathed, while Caster was rather confident that her trump card would allow her to emerge unharmed. But then again, there was the problem of her own master, who would be caught in the fray. And also such means were not exactly the most appealing to Caster, who desired atleast some sort of battle from this gathering of heroes. Her fate had been sealed long ago, and despite harboring regrets about how it concluded, she did not possess an anguish ardent enough to compel her to seek the grail by any means to alter her fate. The past was finished, but the present was ripe with novelties as Caster would think. Then what she would have to be aware of would be an assault by other servants. Of course, Caster thought with a complete confidence that probably would be thought of as conceit by others that she would be able to hold her own regardless of any situation. However, she was not one to let her mind be clouded by hubris, though her judgement could become skewed in that regard. She still had to consider the burden called her master, and of course, form a contract with him in order to sustain her existence.
Imperceptibly sighing at the inconvenience, Caster faced her master behind her and walked up close to him, eyeing his worth. His bearing indicated that he was not one completely devoted to the path of magecraft, so it was reasonable to assume his expertise was either shallow or completely specialized in one or two fields. A quick visual run through of his physique indicated a trained form that had experienced combat, but not one that was particularly exceptional to the point of being beyond human scope in that regard. A well rounded combatant, and satisfactory to Caster as long as his mindset was competent. Towering over Darryl at slightly over two hundred centimeters in height, Caster invoked the line that would seal their master and servant contract.
"Are you the one who has summoned me?"
__________
Tharana was hard at work preparing the necessary tools to proceed upon her assignment. The exact location of the Ashen Mandrake was not known to her, but enough investigation should elucidate this predicament. Her current workshop was in a dilapidated cottage in the outskirts of Idalia which had housed a natural bounded field that repelled the average person from desiring to tread around the area about the cottage. Nobody had dwelled in this residence, and it had appeared abandoned for quite some time. With the help of a few of her companions, Therana had renovated the cottage to a bare minimum to function as a living place and working area. In the meanwhile, she was hard at work preparing specialized familiars for patrolling. One of her companions had already captured over twenty songbirds, and utilizing her family magecraft Therana had implanted remnants of human personalities leftover by the recently deceased into the birds, brainwashing them into being familiars under her control but at the same time completely inconspicuous.
She had already released around five of these birds to patrol her immediate area, but more would be needed to form an active scouting force. She would play an idle and dormant role in this war as she distinctly understood that she would not be able to stand against a servant in direct combat. It would be best to silently eliminate the Executioner without the interference of the masters he had kidnapped. In exchange, Therana herself was a completely unknown presence for now. | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,444 | 1,484 | 5 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Darkness.
It could be described and used in a number of unique ways. One could say the the room was dark, or all he saw was darkness. Despite its many uses in reference, it all meant the same thing, "the absence of light of visual stimuli."
That is what Lee felt at that moment, the absence of visual stimuli, despite being self aware. When lacking ones vision, one could assume two things, he is blind, or he is in darkness. Some could say that there is a third, but that would mean the being is asleep, dubbing any of the other theories wrong. By process of elimination, one could say that he was blind folded, but Lee could feel that his eyes were closed. He was self aware deep in thought, which meant that he was awake. Lee found his answer to be very simple, he was awake, but refused to open his eyes.
Why? Out of fear most likely. Lee remembered the icy hands of his kidnapper on his back. The foreign magic the invaded his Circuits, effectively throwing him into unconsciousness. The ordeal was not traumatizing at all, as a member of the Mik Family, he had faced such an ordeal more than once in his life. But what made this different. What it the fact that he had felt no hostility from his kidnapper as it happened. No one kidnapped in righteousness, that is a fact, but his reasons for doing so seemed that way.
Lee finally opened his eyes, squinting at first before opening them wide. He found himself in a barn, filled with other people his age it seemed. On the ground in front of him was a magic circle, buts it's runes was one he recognized. Lee frowned, a Summoning Circle?
Before Lee could think about his ordeal any longer his hand was jerked away from its place and over the circle. A gash had appeared on his palm, one that he did not remember being their before. His crimson blood dripped on the the circle, suddenly light emanated for it. It's power reverberated through Lee's body, shaking him right to his core. His heart danced, his mind tried to comprehend what was going on, hundreds of emotions flashed in his head, only one showed on his face, excitement. Then it all stopped, and the light was replaced by smoke.
Silence.
Lee grimaced as he stood up, he did not care about anything else at that moment. He had finally realized what the magic circle was, a servant summoning circle, one. meant for the Holy Grail War. Lee saw other server at begin to appear, but he did not care for that, he wanted to know who or what he had summoned. | NAME:
Lee "Lao" McLloyd
(He is no Katana wielding badass, that would be pretty boring)
Character Type:
Master of Lancer
Languages:
English/Mandarin
Affiliation:
McLloyd Family
Height:
6'5"
Weight:
201 lb
Place of Origin:
Shanghai
Bio:
Lee was originally born into the Mik Family in it's main branch headquarters in Shanghai. Most of his child hood was spent learning the inner workings of Magecraft with his families teachers. But Lee was born an anomaly by Mik Family standards. He was blessed with 35 Magical Circuits instead if the normal 20 in compar to the rest of the Mik. Because of this, he become sort of a celebrity, but the glamor quickly dissaperaed as time went on. Lee soon went on to learn the Supreme Ultimate, the graphical representation of the Yin-Yang theory. In succession of learning this, Lee also learned the art Tai Chi, learning and mastering both its traditional and modern forms. Lee quickly became a prominent man in his family, and was soon sent to American to supervise the branch family there. Reasons for this are unknown, but Lee changed his last name to the branch families.
Personality:
On the surface, Lee comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, he has a penchant for wandering off on his own. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, Lee is extremely personable and has a particularly complimentary nature that easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects hide the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lee also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his own ultimate goal. Lee has a considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but Lee is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lee is very protective of family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deem their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. Lee has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and he uses his loved ones as hid primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Bloodline:
Mik:
Is a Chinese family that is considered elite in relation to the rest of the families. Despite this, they are extremely secretive and quite about there actions. They have no close ties to any families, opting to keep outside relations to a minimum. It's current head head Xhao Lin the Tenth. Despite this quiet and secretive nature, they are quite prominent in the Mage's Association. The Mik also have a branch family in America called the McLloyd, which Lee has come so supervise under the order of Xhao. The Mik Family has existed as far back as the start of the Tang Dynasty. Members of this family ate considered masters of the Supreme Ultimate.
Blood Type
O |
54,445 | 1,484 | 6 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Darkness, blood, a flash of red on the ground. That's all Mesman could see from his one functioning eye. His eye lazily drifted around, gazing at the other poor sods assembled here against their will. Or maybe he was just the unlucky one to get hit with the hard-end of a stick. Groaning, he realized his hand was cut and being held, eyes going wide as he saw the circles on the ground. "...The Grail..." he thought to himself, too hung-over from the awakening to be rightfully angry at whoever the fuck had gathered them.
Realizing what position he and the others were in, Mesman was prepared to cast a curse of blindness, his free hand attempting to do...something to the circle. Anything. Hard for him to imagine that he was having time off in Holland, and then suddenly here, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. His addled mind deemed it necessary to stop preparing to cast the blinding curse, given that he seemed unable to form the proper incantation. Glaring at the circle, he wondered who or WHAT was going to come out of it, given that any Heroic Spirit from the Throne could answer the call with no artifact to focus on pulling one. For all he knew, Adolf Hitler could come marching out. "God dammit, if I keep thinking it, its going to happen." he cursed to himself, pushing his body up with his not-bleeding-hand as he layed his single eye on what would come from the circle. | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,446 | 1,484 | 7 | 2,220 | 300 | It was unexpected. Well, not too unexpected. Perhaps, it was just a bit more sudden than expected. That seemed reasonable to think. No. No. It was unexpected. No-one expected to be called upon at dinnertime, after all - summoned from one's own world and one's own time into that of another's. Looking around, the one called Archer frowned.
'This again?' she sighed in her thoughts, wiggling the meat bone in-between her lips. There were others, already here. Servants. Masters. She was late. That was no good. Where did she go? To who did she go? As she scanned, her eyes fell upon one... 'He looks so curious, so afraid. Of me, perhaps?' she wonders, amused. 'How curious, he's but one eye that functions.'
Amused, she stepped over to him, and dropped her bare ankles; a mess of crimson hair flowing around her, covering bare shoulders, and framing her soft, smiling face. "Hello, sir," the redhead says, "Are you to be my Master?" | I am the supplementary master for Saber. (Like Sola-Ui before she was Lancer's master.)
WIP
Jakob Zegher
Character Type: Secondary Master (secondary magical energy supplier)
Languages: Dutch, German, English
Affiliation:
House Zegher
Clock Tower
Height/Weight: 168cm/65kg
Place of Origin: Netherlands
Personality: Jakob has one goal in life. That goal is to restore the Zegher family to its former glory. Through constant research and training, he has become a very power mage that is adept many types of magic. Still people refuse to recognize the fact that he is the last descendant of the Zegher family. This is the main reason why he agreed to joining the holy grail war. Through his victory he hopes that others will finally recognize him as a powerful mage worthy of the Zegher name.
When he isn't focused on improving himself as a mage he is a pretty fun guy. He can be childish at times since he was never told that he had to grow up. He is brave and isn't afraid of conflict even though he is physically weak. If one word had to be chosen to describe Jakob that word would be determined.
Bio: Jakob Zegher, the last known mage of the Zegher family. It's been over 200 years since the Zegher family was believed to have died out. Now all of a sudden a mage with great potential appears bearing the same name. Some brush it off as mere coincidence, but others have chosen to acknowledge that he is, in fact, a Zegher. Jakob wasn't born into the world of magic though, for the first six years of his life he lived without knowing the fact that magic existed. He was born in a small village in northern Netherlands that was almost completely cut off from the rest of society due to constant flooding. He started school a year earlier than most children did, but other than that he seemed to be completely normal.
For six years, he lived completely oblivious to the world around him, but just as the sixth holy war began his life would change forever. While "adventuring" with his friends, Jakob came across an overgrown forest that was shrouded in mist. All his friends had refused to enter, but Jakob wasn't so easily deterred. He was not afraid of what lurked in the forest. He powered onwards unaware that he would never be the same.
What Jakob found in the forest was not monsters, but an old ruined castle. His mind was telling him to turn around and never look back, but for some reason his body couldn't stop moving forwards. It was as if something was drawing him towards the castle. He explored the abandoned halls of the castle and found nothing of interest. There was no treasure, ghosts, monsters. From what he could see the castle was completely empty. He was about to leave, but at the last moment noticed something that he hadn't seen before. At the very end of the hall was a spiralling staircase that went down for what seemed like forever. Going against everything thing that he had learned from watching horror movies. Jakob decided to follow the steps down into the dark abyss that laid in wait for him. There was no more turning back. Jakob had sealed his fate.
What waited for him at the bottom of the steps was not death, but enlightenment. As he reached the bottom he was greeted by a long hallways that stretched on for a few hundred feet. The walls were lined with torches that were lit with blue flame, and what lie at the end was a two large wooden doors. Jakob wanted to run, but when he turned around there was nowhere for him to go. The staircase that was just there a moment ago had disappeared. There was only one place left for him to go. Turning back towards the wooden door, he began to walk down the hall. Once he reached the end of the hall the doors opened on their own. Inside was a massive room filled with thousands of books. At the center of all this was a podium with a single book on top. Jakob approached the podium and brushed a thick layer of dust off the cover of the book. It read "The History of House Zegher". When he opened the book everything went black. His life flashed before his eyes and so did the life of every other member of his house. All this knowledge rushing into him at once. It was too much for his young mind to comprehend. The stress of it all caused him to collapse.
Jakob was out for almost two days before he regained consciousness. His mind had been given time to process what he had just learned. He now knew all about the history of his house and the existence of magic. Opening that book had activated the dormant magic circuits that were inside of him. Now he knew exactly what he needed to do. From there on out Jakob went back to the castle every day and studied from the books the lined its walls. His progress as a mage was astonishing. Within just a few years, he was able to utilize his magic circuits to their furthest extent. Word from the village soon spread that there was a young boy performing what seemed like miracles. It wasn't long until the mage's association caught wind of these rumors. In an effort to stop the existence of magic from being revealed. The mage's association kidnapped Jakob from the village and brought him back to the clock tower where he would be able to continue his study of magic without revealing it to the world.
Bloodline: Zegher is the name of a lost bloodline believed to have died out long ago. It was once one of the greatest mage families in all of Europe. The rise of the Zegher family came long before the first holy grail war. Their roots can be traced back over 700 years to the early periods of the renaissance. They started off as a small family located in northern Germany that only slightly dabbled in the art of mage craft, but as time went on the on the small family gave birth to great magi who would go on to change the face of Europe. For a time, they were considered one of the strongest houses in Europe, but with strength comes rivalry, and with rivalry comes feuds. Around the year 1700 a war broke out between the Zegher and a coalition of other houses. The war lasted over 60 years and ended in the complete annihilation of the Zegher house, or so they thought. What really happened was as the home of the Zegher family was under siege the lady of the house escaped with the heir and fled to northern Holland. There they made themselves a new life. Over time, the name Zegher faded into obscurity. All that is left of the house now is a few pages in history.
Other:
- While at the clock tower Jakob studied under Lord el-Melloi II
- Just like Lord el-Melloi II, Jakob seeks the root of origin by looking towards the future instead of the past.
- Jakob holds great potential. He has 38 magic circuits which he is able to use very efficiently
- Jakob may be a powerful mage, but he is still inexperienced in actual combat.
- Jakob is physically weak. If engaged from a distance he is fine, but if someone gets too close he is done.
Blood Type: AB |
54,447 | 1,484 | 8 | 450 | 421 | As her head stirred, the bandage-clad magus that laid on the ground similar to all of the others shuddered and wiggled quite noticeably as she recalled the memory of foreign mana entering her body. Despite how tight her bandages were and how well they covered her skin, no matter how she recalled it, the hand that took her down was on her skin and invading her circuits. Janiyah raised herself from the ground, wincing when one of her palms touched what was below her. Her head swiveled in a quick look around to see other people, presumably magi, in a similar predicament to hers but there were also what appeared to be mana-rich beings appearing from the summoning circles that she hadn't noticed previously on the floor.
"Wait.." She quietly said. Then her eyes widened greatly and she scooted herself backward from the summoning circle. She definitely didn't get far, as one scoot away from the circle she stopped and grabbed her left hand to see that her palm had been slashed across. Her thoughts quickly turned quizzical and she began wondering why she was brought to where she was, and where she was in at all.
Apparently she was a bit too late to the draw with the recalling of her hand. The runic circle she'd been laying in this time glowed and quickly snapped her out of her stint of mental questioning and attempted memory recollection. Of course she knew what was happening. Whoever had brought them there was attempting to begin a Holy Grail War.
Janiyah grasped the back of her left hand with her right and held them to her chest as she stared towards the circle, waiting to see who would make themselves known to her. Whoever it was, she hoped that they wouldn't be a handful. | NAME: Janiyah Crocker
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: English/French/Portuguese
Shaky Quality: German/Russian/Latin/Greek
Affiliation: Magi's Association, Croaka Family
Height: 5'3" ft (160.02cm)
Weight: 128 lbs
Place of Origin: Cameroon
Bio: Janiyah was born in her parents' manor in Cameroon, Africa. Well. Parent. Although at the time of her birth Janiyah obviously didn't know what was going on, she would find out as she grew up that her mother died as she gave birth to her because of some reason that she wasn't particularly interested in finding out about. Her father, deciding that he didn't want to grow bitter towards the child for being the reason for the demise of his beloved wife, sent her away to live with her uncle. What he didn't know, unfortunately, was that the uncle was still a rather active magus. Her uncle, Correy, didn't want to take care of something that couldn't protect itself so he decided that the best course of action was to train her in the art of Magecraft and to learn how to use her mana properly.
The first thing that was given to Jani by her uncle was the only possession of his sister's that he had left, the bandages that had been passed down to her by her father, from his mother, from her mother, and so on. After having them applied to her body, she found herself constricted and almost trapped within it and couldn't function normally within the bandages for several days which lead Correy to believe that she just wasn't worth it. But, after struggling for days to function properly, she finally got the hang of it. She began to do what she did normally without much issue, albeit maybe a bit more complication. Thus began her training as a magus.
Several different types of magic were practiced by her, although she only ever showed proficiency in one or two types. She was noted for having a natural affinity for Earth Magecraft, and out of most forms of specialization, she only ever seemed to be able to use minor reinforcement magic, which wasn't enough for her uncle. But after being pushed and pushed, both of her specialties strengthened themselves due to her sheer determination and the years that she put into it.
After finally being released from her uncle's care, who entrusted her with his most cherished item, the blade that had been with him through thick and thin. Janiyah spent her time training and trying to get even better with her magics. When she received the message that she had been chosen to be a Master, she was genuinely confused, but she didn't object and decided she would at least go. Could be interesting.
Personality: Janiyah is a highly positive spirit who believes that the most important part about battling is learning about the person you're facing and knowing as much as you can about them by the end of the battle. This ideal of hers exists even outside of battle, as she tends to enjoy making friends with a passion even if the people she wants to befriend doesn't particularly enjoy her company. She also has a passion for battle, which tends to lead to her going overboard and doing more than she can handle in situations where she needs to be more strategic or even in plain sparring matches. This has lead to her drastically harming people on "accident", but some people that previously knew her theorize that it's quite intentional.
And there's reason to believe this. Her peaceful disposition completely disappears at the mentioning of certain subject matter, and cause her to become very serious and subdued. Within this category of subject matter, certain sentences and words can send her flying into a fit of complete and utter rage. The only reason she's ever given as a cause for it is "I don't particularly like that thing that's being said to me." She doesn't particularly like hoity toity people, but won't show this whilst acting cheery and kind. As a matter of fact, most of her annoyance doesn't show when she's nice.
Bloodline: Croaka, an oriental bloodline from eastern areas of Asia that gradually scattered and spread their ways to the west. They specifically settled in areas of English and French speaking Africa and the surname eventually converted to better fit the culture of the areas, becoming the Crocker subsect of the bloodline. Originally a group of nobles that were closer to Witches and Houjutsushis than traditional magi, as years went by, the bloodline developed an issue due to some sort of irregularity which causes people born of the lineage to be unable to hold their mana in their body properly.
It wasn't noticed until eventually people born of the lineage could no longer be noted as magi, and it was then that they realized their problem. To combat this, rather than constantly exert mana to contain it, they developed enchanted bandages worn around the body similar to embalmed pharaohs in the lands of Egypt. The bandages sealed mana within the body, and helped the younger members of the clan get used to it and learn how to do it without having to learn from complete scratch.
Blood Type: O+ |
54,448 | 1,484 | 9 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Darryl
Darryl watched the circle come to life. The runes he had prepared would hopefully be a useful catalyst. Algiz, Nauthiz, Ansuz, Inguz. Once he had formed the Ford of the Forked Branch, he had invoked the history and heritage of the Red Branch Knights of Ulster, setting a distinct time and place in history for the Throne to pull a hero from. He'd been thrown in blind, but that did not mean he could not alter his fate and obtain a powerful Servant.
A Red Branch Knight or hero of Ulster would certainly make a fantastic Knight-class Servant. I can't be too greedy and hope for Saber, but I'd certainly settle for a Lancer or a Rider. Though hopefully it's not a Berserker, having to deal with a riastrad could get out of hand...
Other circles came to life around him. Considering the circumstances in which they'd come together, it seemed like they'd all been brought here against their will by someone for some unknown reason. Probably that damn priest over there. Darryl knew he was an Executor, but there was effectively no difference. He was a priest of the church of violence sent forth to purge demons and heresy and slaughter the infidels. So what does he want with the Grail? What does he intend for us? Will he kill us once our Servants have been summoned?
One of them puked. Darryl's face crinkled. Really, dude?
He saw a form take shape somewhere to his right in front of pukey, a young girl, younger than some of his preteen cousins. She very obviously was a knight of the sword, and she carried a shield with the crest of a lion. British then. Definitely Saber. Darryl sighed as his own circle continued to process the information it had been fed. The runes. His blood. It had indeed been too much to hope for Saber. Seeing how he didn't desire Archer, it didn't disappoint him much when he saw one materialize next to the half-blind magus.
Lots of women here. You'd think stuff like Genghis Khan being female would've gone down in the history books. Then again, with how they probably treated women back then... man, tumblr would have a fucking field day with this.
That's when his own Servant materialized. A tall robed woman with red hair and crimson eyes emerged from a cloud of smoke or energy the color of oak, and Darryl was immediately intimidated by her. She was a hero of quite some stature. Literally. She had to be, what? Eight inches taller than him? Ten? Twelve? She was a beauty too, what little he could see of her beneath that willowy black cloak.
I think they'd call this "a tall glass of water" down South, Darryl thought nervously. He had no intentions of oppressing his Servant. If anything, he'd probably fawn over them. These were his idols after all. But still, he didn't want to be treated like some peon, and it was hard to make a good first impression and impress them when the other party towered over you by a full foot.
Well I guess I'll just have to impress her the old-fashioned way then. And hey, at least she can't complain when I don't look at her eyes, right? he thought dryly.
That's when Darryl noticed a conspicuous lack of a weapon on her person. A bow or a lance couldn't be concealed in a set of robes like that, and Saber had already been summoned. Rider then? Who was she?
"... Cé go bhfuil tú?" he said hesitantly, testing her in his (admittedly rusty) Gaelic. "Is é mo ainm Darryl. Tá mé do mháistir. I think..."
"Who are you? My name is Darryl. I am your Master."
----------------
Lancer
Lancer felt her spirit being drawn from the Throne. Ooooh, this is tingly!
The circle glowed with a bright orange flame. Out of it walked an indiscernible figure wreathed in fire. Not that they couldn't be seen, but... they couldn't be recognized. It was if they had no shape, or that the shape they had was constantly in flux. Details like facial structure, height, hair length, everything couldn't be pinned down. All that you could say for certain was that it, they were human. That was all.
"Hmmmm... so this is what the physical world feels like. Is this my body? I don't like it."
Finally this anonymous being settled on a form, the flames flickering away as they stepped out of the circle, their geta clopping on the cold stone floor. They stopped in front of Lee, who they instinctively knew was their Master.
"Hello hello, this is Servant Lancer, reporting for duty! Are you into maids or S&M? My personal preferences are shibari and Chinese water torture, but I'm flexible! I'm also totally up for a ménage à trois if that's what you're into! Call me 'Iwami-chan', kay?"
This Servant clearly wasn't taking this seriously. | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,449 | 1,484 | 10 | 663 | 47 | It begins
The blinding light that is the ambient lighting within the throne of heroes went out for a moment. He did not react physically to this disturbance; he simply acknowledged what it meant. "It's time to try again." the man thought. This was the last thing he was able to do before being ripped from his place and sent flying, though he wasn't moving at all the sensation of being broken down and moved and reassembled was very similar to it. He is confused for a brief moment, he feels no change in his head but is able to recall information that he surely never learned before death. "Holy grail... war...", the servant said aloud in an accent that was completely unfamiliar to him. His voice has been changed, his default alphabet had been switched around and he now spoke backwards. He finally could see the environment he was summoned to, a dark place with rotting planks for walls. But something far more interesting caught his attention when he looked down to see a child wrapped in bandages and clutching her hands to her chest. The servant kneels down and extends his hand, palm facing up and assures her, “Do not fear child, fear clouds judgement and stifles hope in those around. BE BRAVE! And no monster no matter how ferocious will make you falter. Strength can be made given enough bravery! So fear, nothing!” The massive silhouette is obscured by the darkness in the room, but the hand it extends and the points at the tips of the fingers are very visible. Looking up the arm is just more darkness which leads up to a porcelain mask stained with dark brown splotches all across its surface, where at the edges are covered by the rubber that makes up the rest of the suit leads down the to the humongous torso, below that, the robes end inside the thick leather sap sealed boots. No part of his skin is visible; nothing is exposed to the air. No skin, no hair, nothing, just endless rubber that encases his body, eternally preserved by cloth sealed by the life-blood of trees. | Master: Haas Mesman
True Name:
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5' 7'', and a Lady never tells
Alignment: VERY Chaotic and Notably Good
Strength: B+
Endurance: A
Agility: B+
Prana: C
Luck: C
Class Abilities:
Independent Action; Rank C
Magic Resistance; Rank B
Personal Skills:
Clairvoyance; Rank B+
Divinity; Rank D
Attacks:
Light Attack;
Heavy Attack;
Melee;
Appearance:
Archer is a tall, thin woman with fair skin that sports a perpetual tan, auburn hair with a heavy dose of red that hang, untamed to her hips, and dull brown eyes. Her day-to-day garb is commonly that of a market-dweller of her time, however, she's known to wear more modern clothing, if ordered. Her armor is a system of wall-craft silver-coated iron that afford decent protection without negating her overall agility.
Personality:
Archer is two women in one form, better known as split-personality. The first woman is a simple woman, a bastard daughter, and abandoned child. Raised to be an innocent, and notably an air-headed ditz with few talents, and fewer real life skills. The second woman is a fabled warrior; the blood-thirsty, unnaturally accurate archer that slays her greatest of foes with but a single arrow.
To balance this even mixture of carefree and carnage, Archer shifts personalities balance on her adrenaline level; the more and longer the adrenaline pumping, the stronger and more controlling the darker personality becomes, and vice versa.
Bio:
Noble Phantasm: |
54,450 | 1,484 | 11 | 2,319 | 356 | Caster scrutinized her soon to be master with a reserved look, as if assessing the quality of fresh meat. Her gaze shifted to his face as she read its nuances. Certainly it seemed that no unpleasant vibes emanated from this young man, nor did he seem to be the controlling type in any manner. His bearing did not possess the subtleties inherent towards those more versed in artifice, and his expressions seemed rather clear towards the side of frankness. He did not make eye contact with her out of awe perhaps, Caster would never know and had no inclination to. Her hasty analysis eventually summarized the character in front of her in a rather crude manner, but a shabby or unclear image would still be preferable over none at all.
"Boring, but acceptable", thought Caster with a slight nod, agreeing with herself. The speech that spouted from the man's mouth however surprised her. It seemed that he had intentionally summoned her, or, judging by the lack of a catalyst present, he had merely narrowed down his scope of summoning so as to invoke one from Caster' age and land. It was frankly rather amusing to hear this man speak in Gaelic, and in response with the minor hints of a smile tugging upon her lips, Caster replied, "The contract has been made with your response. I will be your servant for this war. To your first question, I will say that I am of the Caster class, and your master's clairvoyance should reveal my true identity and abilities as you are my master. I cannot reveal my name in this room for the other masters to hear, and I pity your intelligence if you thought I would. Also, you need not address me in Gaelic as the grail grants me the capacity to speak English with perfect fluency and if you had thought otherwise then I question your common sense in coming to this war without preparation, though I do suspect that you have been forcefully brought here. This leads me to my question: Do you actually believe that you desire the grail and are willing to put in all, no, more than the entirety of effort your mediocre being can provide?"
As she said this, Caster stooped down and helped Darryl up, making a mental note to herself to provide a healing spell to him later when not in the presence of her enemies so as to not reveal the details of her skills. The minor physical interaction this necessitated presented a clear image to Caster of her master's health, which seemed largely fine.
"A tough little one eh? Maybe this one isn't completely devoid of potential". | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,451 | 1,484 | 12 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Darryl
Caster, huh? Well that was disappointing. Still, she felt strong. He'd have to trust in that feeling.
Darryl grunted.
"In case you didn't notice, I was kind of kidnapped and dragged here by that asshole priest. He looks the type..." Darryl muttered, holding back any further comments about altar boys or unmarked vans. "Anyway, my knowledge of the situation is about zilch. I'll admit though, the opportunity excites me. Now that I know this is the Holy Grail War, I'm itching to get started. It feels like I'm about to jump out of my skin here. As for the details..."
He tried out the clairvoyance she'd spoken of. Let's save those for later. Right now, let's hear what crazy has to say. I don't really like being stuck in a cramped room with a bunch of other Masters and Servants, but this guy knows something we don't, and I don't like that. There's a reason he brought us all here, and if I know types like him, he's going to tell us. I've got an Azoth sword, a few Mystic Codes, and a bag of rune stones hanging off my belt. We can use them to distract him and the other Masters once he's finished monologuing.
He looked up at Caster for the first time. You do have a way to get us out of here, right? | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,452 | 1,484 | 13 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lee gazed at the Servent in which his blood summoned with scrutinizing eyes. He has not expected to summon a woman, much less Lancer. Lancer was one of the Knight Classes, which also consisted of Saber and Archer. Lee heard stories of former Grail Wars, stories of battles between Lancer and Saber. Some were beautiful, others brutal and savage. Lee glanced at someone who seemed to be Saber's Master who was directly across from him, hopefully things would not end up the same way.
Lee focused on the situation at hand, his Servant. Lee could not help but grin he had to admit, she was a funny one. It peaked his interest, who was she? It was obvious she was Japanese, unfortunately, Lee's extensive knowledge did no reach the to the shores of Japan. He would have to do research on this at a later date.
"Hmm, if you could find anyone in the room interested in that ménage à trois stuff..." Lee let his mind wander for a few seconds before shaking his head. This was neither the time or the place to be thinking of such a thing.
Lee glanced at the man that had brought all of the Magus here. How could he had known of the Grail. None of the families said anything about this, despite that fact that the Grail was something so converted by all. Something had to be up, something with the Church, could they have been hiding this all along? How would the families react to this.
"Anyway, my name is Lee "Lao" McLloyd, it is a pleasure to meet you Iwami-chan." Lee did not understand the meaning of "chan", but if that is what she wished to be called, so be it. | NAME:
Lee "Lao" McLloyd
(He is no Katana wielding badass, that would be pretty boring)
Character Type:
Master of Lancer
Languages:
English/Mandarin
Affiliation:
McLloyd Family
Height:
6'5"
Weight:
201 lb
Place of Origin:
Shanghai
Bio:
Lee was originally born into the Mik Family in it's main branch headquarters in Shanghai. Most of his child hood was spent learning the inner workings of Magecraft with his families teachers. But Lee was born an anomaly by Mik Family standards. He was blessed with 35 Magical Circuits instead if the normal 20 in compar to the rest of the Mik. Because of this, he become sort of a celebrity, but the glamor quickly dissaperaed as time went on. Lee soon went on to learn the Supreme Ultimate, the graphical representation of the Yin-Yang theory. In succession of learning this, Lee also learned the art Tai Chi, learning and mastering both its traditional and modern forms. Lee quickly became a prominent man in his family, and was soon sent to American to supervise the branch family there. Reasons for this are unknown, but Lee changed his last name to the branch families.
Personality:
On the surface, Lee comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, he has a penchant for wandering off on his own. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, Lee is extremely personable and has a particularly complimentary nature that easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects hide the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lee also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his own ultimate goal. Lee has a considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but Lee is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lee is very protective of family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deem their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. Lee has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and he uses his loved ones as hid primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Bloodline:
Mik:
Is a Chinese family that is considered elite in relation to the rest of the families. Despite this, they are extremely secretive and quite about there actions. They have no close ties to any families, opting to keep outside relations to a minimum. It's current head head Xhao Lin the Tenth. Despite this quiet and secretive nature, they are quite prominent in the Mage's Association. The Mik also have a branch family in America called the McLloyd, which Lee has come so supervise under the order of Xhao. The Mik Family has existed as far back as the start of the Tang Dynasty. Members of this family ate considered masters of the Supreme Ultimate.
Blood Type
O |
54,453 | 1,484 | 14 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Casting his half-gaze to the woman that had been summoned before him, he was glad that it was neither an insane beast, nor someone easily identifiable as a previous dictator or fascist. Rising to his knees, he looked her in the eyes and said: "I...Suppose I am." as he extended his non-bleeding hand out, noticing a symbol now imprinted onto the back of his palm, the skin of his hand gaining a rather odd sigil in a set of three, with what appeared to be a large, crystalline arrow depicted on it, winding up to his middle-forearm. It was clear that the seal was seperated into three, and the whole design seemed somewhat chaotic.
Looking at it curiously, he said: "Yup. That seals it. Looks like we're in this together, Partner." and cast a glance to the man who'd brought them all together. "...No rosary...no indication of who he is. Is this guy a Magus or a Priest? He can't just be some schmuck off the street. No way anybody could have just FOUND the Grail by accident." he thought before rising to his feet. "...So...why's the Grail here?
I don't think you dragged me to another Country just to cut my hand and give me a Servant." | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,454 | 1,484 | 15 | 2,319 | 356 | Archer smiled, taking the hand. Poking at it. "Poke. Poke. Poke..." murmured the redhead, as she traced the design up with every poke, as if tattooing it. "Master..." Archer's soft features suddenly hardened, twisting into something of great violence and blood-lust. "Let's kill them all," came the request on a sultry, yet sadistic tone, "bloodily..."
Suddenly, she was sweet again. "And, not die! Yeah!" she chirps, holding his hand and bouncing on the balls of her naked feet, flashing painted toes beneath her light gown. "Oh, and let's do our best... always..." | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,455 | 1,484 | 16 | 1,529 | 520 | The summoning awoke him form his slumber. Realization came to his mind as he slowly opened his eyes: it was time. The Holy Grail War. The name suggested it is supposed to be the most sacred of all struggles, but he knew the truth was different. There was nothing holy about the butchery that was to take place, it was just a dance macabre of the power hungry heretics. Again, he will be bound to serve a Master who tramples over the True Faith. Again he will be bound by an oath which only death will be able to break. At least, this time around, he will not fight his brethren.
He straightened up as the white light enveloped him, injecting him with the knowledge of the modern world. The summoning was in its full swing. Now was the time to fulfil his wish, that one wish which he held his entire life, yet against whose fulfilment the circumstances forced him to work. He finally has a chance for redemption, after so many centuries.
The light began changing its colour as it swirled around him, slowly getting darker and darker, until it became pitch black. A fiery hot sensation coursed through his being. Ah, he knew this feeling, to be consumed by the madness of rage. He indulged it so many times during his life. Many have perished before his fury-filled onslaught, incapable of matching his great strength led by his blind blood-thirst, and it seemed many more will soon.
Madness ate at him rapidly, burning his reason to cinders. His wish, his regret, his faith, all were melting away. They were unnecessary for the Servant of the class Berserker, and that's what he was now: a mad beast, to be chained by the power of the Holy Grail, unleashed in the direction of his Master's foes to bring them devastation and carnage.
The process was quickly over.
------------------------------
Black light surged from one of the summoning circles and a tall figure clad in black armor walked out of it, shaking the entire room with each step taken.
Berserker stood in front of the young, teenage girl with straight dark hair who looked like a halfling compared to his height, and said no word. The only sign of him noticing her presence at all was his two blue eyes staring at her. There was no shred of reason in them, only a cold fury. | Master:
Tohsaka Rika
True Name:
Gender:
Male
Height/Weight:
223cm, 127kg
Alignment:
Chaotic Insane
Strength: A++
Endurance: B
Agility: B
Prana: C
Luck: C+
Class Abilities:
Mad Enhancement A
Skills:
Appearance:
Personality:
Calm and silent, like a machine which has been put on standby. When one sees Berserker's apparently cool demeanor he or she may mistake him for a Servant of another class, or wrongly assume that his Mad Enhancement is of low rank, which couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, the rational part of Berserker's mind was completely wiped, leaving him with a little sense of self. The only thing left for him is his incredible bloodthirst which constantly radiates from his cold blue eyes. Currently he awaits at his Master's leisure to be unleashed upon her enemies, but once he's off the chain he will not stop until either he or his opponents perish.
Noble Phantasm(s): |
54,456 | 1,484 | 17 | 1,505 | 3,125 | Needless to say, a barn. It is indeed unfitting for a lady like person such as Rika who expected the setting to be extravagant and representable than being in a farm like setting. It felt like ancient witchcraft for a setting like this but nevertheless Rika could not careless about needless details, all masters are in the same room and are here for the same thing, the commonality of the grail war, victory, wish, and strife among servants like a killing sports. She could not bother about it.
Most certainly that today is the day that Rika will shut down the resemblance of any Tohsaka Tradition to her because according to the family history; her predecessors were known for summoning the Archer servant and unwittingly getting themselves killed or in big trouble and as much as the Archer class are powerful based on the word of mouth especially the Goldie. Rika does not want to have history repeat itself and face the same fate of having receive a trolling tradition curse that is even worse than a Lancer's badluck. Indeed, Rika took her superior's advice not to have an Archer especially if you are a Tohsaka due to their uncontrollable nature and betrayal. Regardless of that what matters now is the right servant.
Rika began to feel a sudden rage internally like the paranoia swallowing one from insanity, virility as such feeling is rejoicing and her magic circuits is reacting somewhat in a malice manner which she can't explain. The jewel on her necklace is also glowing. She also heard voices as she makes connection with her servant. Voices that taints the soul as her servant is summoned. As usual, Rika is not bothered but this time she is curious to see whom she have summoned. "You are..." | NAME:
Rika Tohsaka
Character Type:
Magus, Human Master
Languages:
German, Japanese, Latin, English(bad English xD)
Affiliation:
Clocktower
Tohsaka Family
Height: 5'6 ft
Weight: 56 kg
Place of Origin: Japan
Bio:
Born from one of the big three families famed for the Holy Grail War. Rika is a Tohsaka raised in London and spent majority of her time in Fuyuki City honing her skills under the tutelage of her Clocktower Magus superior and this helped her, getting to know more about her birth country but still it doesn't excuse her for training and preparing for the holy grail war. She was in fact just a candidate and upon certain circumstances, she was chosen to participate for it in spite of her reluctance to do so.
Unlike her predecessors who are keen on the war, she is halfhearted about it and keeps things to herself. It is stated by her superior that she is boring to teach due to how fast she progresses and the fact of her reluctant nature about lacking initiative and manners as noted she doesn't use honorifics to address her elders.
Last of the last. There are only two reasons why she joined the grail war. First is just because she represents her family and out of her whim and second is her wish that have yet to be revealed.
Personality:
Rika is generally aloof and reluctant to acknowledge certain people, but she's not above commending them when they truly deserve it. Despite this, she is still kind but not the type to be open about it rather it is bittersweet approach but of course, she deeply cares for her family and comrades. She is also opportunistic and wastes no time to get what she wants but has no guts to kill people and in this sixth war, she has no interest in killing masters but if it holds her back, she will play foul by using extreme methods such as cutting off a master's arm, blackmailing, and involving innocent family memberfamilys of the opposite side.
Bloodline: Tohsaka
Blood Type: O+
Notes:
She is born in Japan, raised in London since birth and at the age of 6 she is sent back to Japan and spent 10 years training for the Holy Grail War, she is 16 years old.
She is not blood related to Rin Tohsaka. The only resemblance that makes her a Tohsaka is her green eyes and dark brown hair, up to eleven her mannerisms. What makes her different is her preference of servants because she is not using an Archer.
Her combat style is Shao Lin and Taekwondo for she revels on kicking power. This is taught by her superior during the course of 10 years.
She was one of the candidates of her family for the war. At first she wasn't chosen but under certain circumstances, she was chosen to take part and replaced the former Tohsaka member.
Naturally, she is born with 30 magic circuits and dons Tohsaka Tokiomi's Flame Magecraft with the jewels attached to her gloves. Her family's jewelry magic is unison with her fire attribute. She is skilled with her family's jewel magic. |
54,457 | 1,484 | 18 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Okay. says the man that had ferried these wayward Magi to their current location, clapping his hands "Eyes." he pauses, making a 'watch me' motion at the Masters and Servants in front of him with his middle, and index fingers several times. "Eyes and ears on me." he demands, taking a seat on the windowsill behind him "So, I'm what one would call the 'Ashen Mandrake', and you're in an 'Odal Valley' nestled into the hillsides and mountain ranges of a 'Germany', this is a valley largely populated by Magi, and at the center of it is the nucleus of this little conflict, the 'Holy Grail'." he says, throwing up a quick quotation mark with each term he adds to his monologue "In this small valley, there are three villages, each of which has an Inn, or a Bed and Breakfast you can stay at, they're all connected by one road; right now we're a ten minute drive from the entrance into the valley, and the first town. Now that you're all conscious, and I've delivered a greeting to all of you, I'm going to take my leave, and return to whence I came, don't search for me, I will kill you, Servant or not if I see you again. Any questions?" he asks plainly, before he takes a step forward, knife in hand "No? Good." the Ashen Mandrake says lowly, returning his hat back to his head. He jumps off the loft, and returns to his van without any further word, driving it away without any conflict, either, which is awfully odd, considering the man just kidnapped a group of seven people in their late teens. | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,458 | 1,484 | 19 | 1,726 | 596 | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Lycusio had his brows furrowed in anxiety. Nothing made sense to him, and he was completely lacking in any sort of prior knowledge. It was similar to taking an astrophysics test without any prior knowledge beyond the acknowledgement of an existence called "Space". The tall man was practically an infant in the world of Magi, having only met a Magus a month prior.
Without any prior knowledge, Lycusio fell back on whatever discernment he could garner from the present. Every piece and part of his body ached with uniform severity although generally centered around his torso, and he appeared to be attached to a circle in which a girl before him appeared. Glancing around, Lycusio noticed the reactions of others; instead of his pure befuddlement, they understood and acknowledged their current situation, and instead, appeared either appalled or dismayed. Soaking everything within a second, he heard the girl before him in armor ask of him whether or not he was her master.
Lycusio's mouth opened to answer, but there was no clear reply to her question with his understanding, so he promptly shut his lips with a perplexed expression. Eventually, a man beside him asked Lycusio if he was alright. It then occurred to him that they were the only two that only had one servant to show. Unable to come up with a plausible conclusion, Lycusio simply nodded his head in affirmation of his wellness, listening to the man reply to his servant that he was her master.
"Well, I think there's been some folly, I'm most likely not your master, little one, if the other man already feels a connection to you, then I'm afraid my presence here is rather abnormal."
Lycusio couldn't deny that he was extremely drawn to the girl in armor, but he was unsettled and the other man had already claimed the position of master. In his eyes, the foreign concepts and variables were too numerous, usually in control, Lycusio was far too perplexed to be comfortable with the situation.
Lycusio began to back away when the man naming himself the 'Ashen Mandrake' gave out a sorts of introductory that did practically nothing to explain his situation. The 'Ashen Mandrake' announced his leave and Lycusio planned to make his hasty retreat as well. He had a feeling that even his extensive physical training would do nothing for him in the realm of Magi, and the atmosphere was thick with weariness from all sides. Lycusio was fairly experienced in dealing with tense situations, and gunfights have broken out with less animosity. | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: Arabic/German/English/Russian
Rudimentary: Cantonese/Mandarin/Turkish/Indo-Aryan
Affiliation:
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 211 lb
Place of Origin: Middle East, Gaza Strip
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. , based as a family company in Germany, with the original name of Holz Security Services. The company soon branched out as an international armory corporation, taking full and unadulterated advantage of the warfare in the Middle East. Fighting for the highest bidder, Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. eventually obtained the assets to match any Middle Eastern army in a frontal conflict on its own.
Executive and son of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.’s chairman, Beringer Holz discovered a child on an expedition through a border town in which the boy was the only standing body amongst corpses. Malnourished and on the verge of death, the child arrived at the mercenary’s settlement with Beringer. Nursed back to health, the child provided ample entertainment for Beringer, and soon, the executive found a use for the child. Giving the child the name Lycusio Vicario, and taught him up from down. At 10, Lycusio was mentored in military arts, he became masterful in multiple forms of combat, especially close combat, as to serve as a competent body guard for Beringer. At 16, Lycusio was taught languages, etiquette, and politics; he became the representative of Beringer and filled in for the gatherings that his mentor did not care to attend. At 18, Lycusio became the right hand man of Beringer. Taking over for a great deal of Beringer’s responsibilities, Beringer’s sector of mercenary activity became especially prosperous and he became increasingly close with Lycusio. The two, fabled in ruthlessness and effectiveness, became the most prominent branch of the Holz Mercenary Co. and Lycusio soon rose into the upper echelons of the powerful corporation.
Amidst a covert operation, Beringer and Lycusio were en route to an area of negotiation when the small convoy escort was ambushed. The two fled with their escorts into a nearby building, where they withstood a continuous onslaught for something close to an hour. Eventually Beringer was gunned down executioner style on the rooftop of the building, but before Lycusio shared the same fate, he flew into a rage. Utilizing his hands and other’s weapons alone, he massacred the remaining ambushers. He received multiple gun wounds amidst the melee and was once more upon the fringe of death when he was retrieved by members of the Holz mercenary group.
During his recovery, Lycusio was sent on leave back to Germany where he recovered in the peace of a first world country. There, Lycusio became the heir of Beringer’s branch of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. but has yet to return to his front, remaining in Germany due to his injuries, emotional barriers, and the melodic daily life of a peaceful valley in the country of his newfound home.
Recently Lycusio met a mysterious former Magus who taught him the basics of his body’s circuits, to the point that he can use reinforcement magic on himself, but nothing else.
Lycusio grew up seeing the worst of the world. For most of his life, all he knew was war and the politics involved. Only recently has he began to enjoy the merits of a first world country, thus he is rather helpless in anything beyond fighting. Having gone through a nearly endless amount of strife from fighting on both the military front as well as the political front, Lycusio is fairly docile and his thirst for fighting has been completely and totally exhausted.
Growing up under Beringer’s wing, Lycusio adapted his mentor’s slightly twisted sense of justice as well as the need to uphold his mentor’s beliefs. He also has a sense of suspicion towards all others due to the fact that he is so well versed in deceit.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: A- |
54,459 | 1,484 | 20 | 450 | 421 | It was kind of hard for the younger magus to take notice to anyone else in the room, as her attention was claimed very firmly by the summoning circle in front of her and, subsequently, the man that appeared after the ritual completed herself. She smiled as he gave her a slight lecture about fear, something which definitely did calm her nerves in the foreign situation and the pain that was welling in her palm stopped. Or, rather, she stopped noticing it.
The hand offered to her was taken, Janiyah offered him her non-mangled hand and lifted herself up, taking notice of the odd pattern that had settled itself on the back of her hand as her bandages loosened themselves around her arm. After standing herself up with the help of her new partner, the young magus quickly tightened up her wrappings around her arms then suddenly hugged the man in front of her, not noticing his somewhat menacing appearance as she did so.
She withdrew almost as quickly as she advanced, and stood in front of her Servant. Though the bandages around her face made it somewhat hard to see that she was smiling, her eyes being nearly closed were a pretty good indicator. "I'm not sure if you know or not, but my name is Janiyah Crocker. It's very nice to meet you."
It was only after she said that that she allowed herself too look around, at the other Masters and the other Servants. As she expected, almost everyone was taller than her. No surprises. Other than the very clear high difference that she took note of, it did look like everyone there was legitimately threatening. However this played out, it'd definitely be interesting. Her attention once again flew away from the other Masters to this.. Passion Pancake? The name didn't really matter, the gist of his message was what was important, and the corners of her mouth tugging into a light frown as he mentioned his.. "death clause" as it were.
It was only after the man who brought them there brought up mortality that Janiyah realized how dangerous this situation could possibly be, with so many Masters and Servants stuffed into one small area.
She whispered to her Servant, tugging on his wrist lightly. "I'm trusting that you'll follow with haste when I make my way out of here. The last thing we want is to be caught in some kind of cross-fire, or be targeted." | NAME: Janiyah Crocker
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: English/French/Portuguese
Shaky Quality: German/Russian/Latin/Greek
Affiliation: Magi's Association, Croaka Family
Height: 5'3" ft (160.02cm)
Weight: 128 lbs
Place of Origin: Cameroon
Bio: Janiyah was born in her parents' manor in Cameroon, Africa. Well. Parent. Although at the time of her birth Janiyah obviously didn't know what was going on, she would find out as she grew up that her mother died as she gave birth to her because of some reason that she wasn't particularly interested in finding out about. Her father, deciding that he didn't want to grow bitter towards the child for being the reason for the demise of his beloved wife, sent her away to live with her uncle. What he didn't know, unfortunately, was that the uncle was still a rather active magus. Her uncle, Correy, didn't want to take care of something that couldn't protect itself so he decided that the best course of action was to train her in the art of Magecraft and to learn how to use her mana properly.
The first thing that was given to Jani by her uncle was the only possession of his sister's that he had left, the bandages that had been passed down to her by her father, from his mother, from her mother, and so on. After having them applied to her body, she found herself constricted and almost trapped within it and couldn't function normally within the bandages for several days which lead Correy to believe that she just wasn't worth it. But, after struggling for days to function properly, she finally got the hang of it. She began to do what she did normally without much issue, albeit maybe a bit more complication. Thus began her training as a magus.
Several different types of magic were practiced by her, although she only ever showed proficiency in one or two types. She was noted for having a natural affinity for Earth Magecraft, and out of most forms of specialization, she only ever seemed to be able to use minor reinforcement magic, which wasn't enough for her uncle. But after being pushed and pushed, both of her specialties strengthened themselves due to her sheer determination and the years that she put into it.
After finally being released from her uncle's care, who entrusted her with his most cherished item, the blade that had been with him through thick and thin. Janiyah spent her time training and trying to get even better with her magics. When she received the message that she had been chosen to be a Master, she was genuinely confused, but she didn't object and decided she would at least go. Could be interesting.
Personality: Janiyah is a highly positive spirit who believes that the most important part about battling is learning about the person you're facing and knowing as much as you can about them by the end of the battle. This ideal of hers exists even outside of battle, as she tends to enjoy making friends with a passion even if the people she wants to befriend doesn't particularly enjoy her company. She also has a passion for battle, which tends to lead to her going overboard and doing more than she can handle in situations where she needs to be more strategic or even in plain sparring matches. This has lead to her drastically harming people on "accident", but some people that previously knew her theorize that it's quite intentional.
And there's reason to believe this. Her peaceful disposition completely disappears at the mentioning of certain subject matter, and cause her to become very serious and subdued. Within this category of subject matter, certain sentences and words can send her flying into a fit of complete and utter rage. The only reason she's ever given as a cause for it is "I don't particularly like that thing that's being said to me." She doesn't particularly like hoity toity people, but won't show this whilst acting cheery and kind. As a matter of fact, most of her annoyance doesn't show when she's nice.
Bloodline: Croaka, an oriental bloodline from eastern areas of Asia that gradually scattered and spread their ways to the west. They specifically settled in areas of English and French speaking Africa and the surname eventually converted to better fit the culture of the areas, becoming the Crocker subsect of the bloodline. Originally a group of nobles that were closer to Witches and Houjutsushis than traditional magi, as years went by, the bloodline developed an issue due to some sort of irregularity which causes people born of the lineage to be unable to hold their mana in their body properly.
It wasn't noticed until eventually people born of the lineage could no longer be noted as magi, and it was then that they realized their problem. To combat this, rather than constantly exert mana to contain it, they developed enchanted bandages worn around the body similar to embalmed pharaohs in the lands of Egypt. The bandages sealed mana within the body, and helped the younger members of the clan get used to it and learn how to do it without having to learn from complete scratch.
Blood Type: O+ |
54,460 | 1,484 | 21 | 1,505 | 3,125 | Rika arrogantly stated the fact that she'll be the one to take this person on to herself; "Interesting, that's my line and I look forward to that." Meanwhile she have summoned the Berserker, a servant clad in blackness, jet black of the pitch black, darkness and all the black coloring you could find in the world; as dark as the abyss. She had one question but this Ahsen Mandrake guy just disappeared, Rika wanted to ask something regarding elemental magecraft but screw that since the man left with no manners. Currently, Rika wanted to take advantage of having her servant wreak havoc.
Afterwards she addresses everyone with the disrespectful mannerism that her mother language uses お前 (Omae) with the 大好きな曲(Omaetachi). In Japanese it offensive, "I'm getting the hell out of here. No way I will be packed like sardines with the rest of you filthy mongrels, not like I'm into such wishing device but it is kinda tempting. Get in my way and I'll burn you all to ashes." Nonchalantly stating the fact that she's not cool with the rest of the masters and servants, bluntly like a tiger glaring at its prey. Rika successfully declare her statement in three different languages, Japanese, English, and German. It's like declaring war against many countries. Along with her ignition of flame magecraft as an aura, it would normally startle everyone in the room if they don't have a brain. Then she grinned and reconsiders it, "But if any of you whole lot would so like an alliance with me then it is most certainly natural that you do the same and get the hell out of here." She walks away slowly to see if anyone retaliates from her threatening.
"Let's go Berserker. We'll take on high quality magi instead of these third-rates." Rika really didn't mean what she said but her aloof expression tells that she really mean it. The cover of the book is easily judged if no thought is pierced. | NAME:
Rika Tohsaka
Character Type:
Magus, Human Master
Languages:
German, Japanese, Latin, English(bad English xD)
Affiliation:
Clocktower
Tohsaka Family
Height: 5'6 ft
Weight: 56 kg
Place of Origin: Japan
Bio:
Born from one of the big three families famed for the Holy Grail War. Rika is a Tohsaka raised in London and spent majority of her time in Fuyuki City honing her skills under the tutelage of her Clocktower Magus superior and this helped her, getting to know more about her birth country but still it doesn't excuse her for training and preparing for the holy grail war. She was in fact just a candidate and upon certain circumstances, she was chosen to participate for it in spite of her reluctance to do so.
Unlike her predecessors who are keen on the war, she is halfhearted about it and keeps things to herself. It is stated by her superior that she is boring to teach due to how fast she progresses and the fact of her reluctant nature about lacking initiative and manners as noted she doesn't use honorifics to address her elders.
Last of the last. There are only two reasons why she joined the grail war. First is just because she represents her family and out of her whim and second is her wish that have yet to be revealed.
Personality:
Rika is generally aloof and reluctant to acknowledge certain people, but she's not above commending them when they truly deserve it. Despite this, she is still kind but not the type to be open about it rather it is bittersweet approach but of course, she deeply cares for her family and comrades. She is also opportunistic and wastes no time to get what she wants but has no guts to kill people and in this sixth war, she has no interest in killing masters but if it holds her back, she will play foul by using extreme methods such as cutting off a master's arm, blackmailing, and involving innocent family memberfamilys of the opposite side.
Bloodline: Tohsaka
Blood Type: O+
Notes:
She is born in Japan, raised in London since birth and at the age of 6 she is sent back to Japan and spent 10 years training for the Holy Grail War, she is 16 years old.
She is not blood related to Rin Tohsaka. The only resemblance that makes her a Tohsaka is her green eyes and dark brown hair, up to eleven her mannerisms. What makes her different is her preference of servants because she is not using an Archer.
Her combat style is Shao Lin and Taekwondo for she revels on kicking power. This is taught by her superior during the course of 10 years.
She was one of the candidates of her family for the war. At first she wasn't chosen but under certain circumstances, she was chosen to take part and replaced the former Tohsaka member.
Naturally, she is born with 30 magic circuits and dons Tohsaka Tokiomi's Flame Magecraft with the jewels attached to her gloves. Her family's jewelry magic is unison with her fire attribute. She is skilled with her family's jewel magic. |
54,461 | 1,484 | 22 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Darryl
What the hell? Darryl frowned. Hold up, Caster. Looks like he's not gonna be as talkative as we thought. Maybe we can still get some answers from him if we try to-
But he was already gone, leaving more than six Masters and Servants in a small, enclosed space together.
"Well that explained absolutely nothing," Darryl grumbled.
Figuring he and Caster were free to go, he grabbed his belongings and wrapped the red tie of his student uniform tightly around his lacerated hand. On a whim, he decided to take Caster's advice about ascertaining her identity with clairvoyance, and opened a channel with her. They didn't seem to be in any immediate danger here, and if they were it'd be nice to know what he had to work with.
He let the entirety of her being into his mind, and what he saw was...
Darryl flinched, momentarily taken aback by the information he'd received from her. Stats, abilities, height, weight. He knew it all now, even her identity.
He took a deep breath.
"Well, not that it hasn't been fun being kidnapped and extorted for blood with you all, but I think I'm gonna call it a night. Anyone who wants to follow me home so they can get a cheap-shot in while my back is turned is welcome to try. Everyone else, I look forward to seeing you on the battlefield tomorrow. Good night, and good luck. Trust me, you're gonnna need it."
He said the last part under his breath as he walked out with Caster.
--------------
Lancer
At Lee's suggestion, Lancer took a look around the room at the other Masters and Servants. She put a finger on her chin, and cocked her hand on her hip.
"Hmmm... I dunno, the tension in this room is really harshing my mellow, man. Even if I was in the mood just after being summoned, I don't think anyone here would want to. I mean I'd ask the scary lookin' onee-san that just left but she's super-scary. I'm not into bandages girl over there and Archer looks like she'd rather get inside me in a way that'd really, really hurt."
Her eyes fell on Saber. "Well hello~"
With a sudden, crazy burst of speed, perhaps something greater if even the mighty Saber class was not able to follow it, Lancer appeared behind the tiny knight in shining armor before anyone realized she had even moved. She wrapped her arms around her.
"Well aren't you just the cutest thing!" she exclaimed. "You're exactly my type! You wanna join me and my Master for a little fun before the War starts?"
One hand began carressing Saber's cheek while the other furiously worked to undo the clasps that held her armor together, like she was unhooking a heavy metal bra.
"So, what do you say Master?" Lancer asked while she worked. "Are you into the goth-loli type or do you prefer a girl with a bigger chest like me?" | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,462 | 1,484 | 23 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lee hoped that the other Masters would not take offense to his Servants comments. He would much rather start this Grail War of on a happy note, with everyone failing to notice him and all. Lee raked his hands through his brown hair, Lancer was definitely not taking this whole thing seriously.
"Lancer, don't you think..."
Lee was cut short by the sudden disappearance of Lancer. Her sudden reappearance startled him even more. She had teleported, or appeared across the room, directly behind Saber. It seemed that his fears had came true, one of the Servants that he wanted to avoid was the one his Servent went to. Lee face palmed, she was going to be a hand full.
"Lancer, were leaving. Unhand her and let us be in our way, you'll have plenty of opportunities to have you way with her later in this War." his voice stern and his eyes hard. Suddenly he grinned, "Im not into loli-con, that should give you your answer though."
Lee placed his hands in his pocket, ignoring the brazen remarks of Caster's and Berserker's Master's. Making threats this early in the game was asking to get themselves killed, but alliances made sense to him. Despite everyone in this room being untrustworthy Mages, he was in this to survive. Although he did not know what he wanted the Grail for, he would fight for it anyway, it would be entertaining in the long run. As Lee walked out the front of the building, Lee cast a thumbs up at Berserker's Master, signaling that he was interested in her alliance, it would benefit him in the long run to ally himself with Berserker, it was the one he most concerned about next to Saber. | NAME:
Lee "Lao" McLloyd
(He is no Katana wielding badass, that would be pretty boring)
Character Type:
Master of Lancer
Languages:
English/Mandarin
Affiliation:
McLloyd Family
Height:
6'5"
Weight:
201 lb
Place of Origin:
Shanghai
Bio:
Lee was originally born into the Mik Family in it's main branch headquarters in Shanghai. Most of his child hood was spent learning the inner workings of Magecraft with his families teachers. But Lee was born an anomaly by Mik Family standards. He was blessed with 35 Magical Circuits instead if the normal 20 in compar to the rest of the Mik. Because of this, he become sort of a celebrity, but the glamor quickly dissaperaed as time went on. Lee soon went on to learn the Supreme Ultimate, the graphical representation of the Yin-Yang theory. In succession of learning this, Lee also learned the art Tai Chi, learning and mastering both its traditional and modern forms. Lee quickly became a prominent man in his family, and was soon sent to American to supervise the branch family there. Reasons for this are unknown, but Lee changed his last name to the branch families.
Personality:
On the surface, Lee comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, he has a penchant for wandering off on his own. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, Lee is extremely personable and has a particularly complimentary nature that easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects hide the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lee also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his own ultimate goal. Lee has a considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but Lee is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lee is very protective of family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deem their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. Lee has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and he uses his loved ones as hid primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Bloodline:
Mik:
Is a Chinese family that is considered elite in relation to the rest of the families. Despite this, they are extremely secretive and quite about there actions. They have no close ties to any families, opting to keep outside relations to a minimum. It's current head head Xhao Lin the Tenth. Despite this quiet and secretive nature, they are quite prominent in the Mage's Association. The Mik also have a branch family in America called the McLloyd, which Lee has come so supervise under the order of Xhao. The Mik Family has existed as far back as the start of the Tang Dynasty. Members of this family ate considered masters of the Supreme Ultimate.
Blood Type
O |
54,463 | 1,484 | 24 | 2,428 | 4,480 | A chill ran down Mesman's spine as he heard his servant voice her desire to kill every servant...possibly even master. Putting a finger to her lips, he whispering: "Hey! Shh. That's not how we're going to do things..." After he spoke, he paid mind to the words of their mysterious gatherer. "...Mandrake..." he thought to himself, thinking that he might have heard that title before. Such an accolade was definitely to be associated with killing. After all, no simple magi gets a name denoting such a deadly beast...plant. Beast plant. Holding Archer's hand, he started to lead her away, not wanting to get into any fights at the moment.
"Alright, first thing's first, we gotta find a place to stay." he said, starting to try and think of how to play this. He knew that the Servants didn't really DIE persay once killed, even if people died when they were killed. The Throne of Heroes would just swallow them back up. As such, he started to wonder if he could end the war with no Master casualties. It'd certainly be difficult, but otherwise it'd denote that he'd have to take someone's life. People he didn't even know. Sighing deeply to himself, he covered his blind eye with his free hand. "...What the hell am I gonna do..."
The prospect of taking someone's life was an uneasy subject for him, he usually served to detain his targets rather than eliminate. He was no Judge, nor an Executitioner, but hey, he has served on a jury before. | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,464 | 1,484 | 25 | 1,278 | 8,110 | It was ne'er the place of a Servant to question to lead of their Master; Archer knew that much. Silence and solitude, that would be helpful to her. It would keep the voice at bay, and stave off the desire to fight - for a while. So, she followed him. "Your hand is soft. Such softness is uncommon of the men I know," she commented. "What are we going to do? What am I going to do?" Archer had many questions, "What are you going to do? Will you fight? Will you hide? Where shall we go? How long shall we stay? Can we get something to eat? Meat, perhaps? I like meat..." and, she intended to ask them all in transit.
"Do you like girls or boys?"
Whether they would be answered or not was to be seen. | Removed, 'cause this really doesn't belong here. |
54,465 | 1,484 | 26 | 2,319 | 356 | Caster
With a rather amused expression upon her face as she perceived Darryl's reaction, Caster spoke to him once more through their master servant connection after his fiery little parting speech.
"Amusing that you have the gall to say that in front of all of your competitors. Well, with a servant like me I can say your confidence is warranted."
However, this minor response came to an abrupt end as it seemed that already an altercation occurred between servants inside the stuffy barn. It seemed that the Lancer class servant had decided to engage in confrontational conduct not particularly violent in nature against the Saber class servant. Obviously from the Saber servant's bearing of nobility and traditional chivalry, an immediate rejection complemented by a violent rebuff had occurred. Perhaps this would initiate the first battle of this war. With piqued interest and curiosity that did not at all take into account the scope of seriousness this situation entailed, Caster turned and began to observe the scuffle.
"Young man, I suggest we stay for this parade. It will help us gauge their abilities while we can merely act as bystanders without revealing anything."
Caster noticeably did not address Darryl as her master, and even her title of deeming him to be but a young man was laced with subtle condescension. Events took a superbly interesting turn when Saber immediately revealed her noble phantasm, which gripped Caster's own interest with an iron hand. It was a limited effect type mystic code suited towards initiating the mystery of the Second Magic. An exceptionally rare artifact that would have been a treasure even in the Age of Gods. The Second Magic itself was not something Caster was unfamiliar with, and she herself was capable of utilizing an aspect of it but in a way more similar to renowned martial artists of the East. Drawing from her extraordinary knowledge in magecraft, Caster discerned that this was likely not a tool to directly access the full extent of the Second Magic, but rather a siphoning tool designed to provide an infinite amount of expendable prana by accessing magical energy from the countless parallel dimensions in existence. An exceptionally formidable tool, but one that was severely limited by the user's magical capacity. An ordinary magus for example, would not be able to use such a sword to its maximum effect as their upper limit would be to say expend two hundred units of prana. Thus the sword would replenish these two hundred units instantly, allowing for an endless usage of two hundred units. Obviously, a servant with say a thousand units would be able to abuse this weapon to a far superior degree. Of course, Caster could not glean any direct specifics, and the weapon's status as a noble phantasm may have imbued it with a multitude of additional effects Caster would not comprehend without witnessing them. | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,466 | 1,484 | 27 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Lancer
"Whoa!" Lancer said as she strained her neck to avoid the sword. The Servant disappeared and then reappeared a meter away in short succession, almost without time lag. If they truly could be said to be moving at all, it was fast.
"That was too close!" she said, rubbing her neck where the sword would have struck her. "You play some pretty mean pranks, Saber-chan. Not all of us have fancy body armor like you do. What if that had hit me and cut open my pretty little neck? Guys aren't into girls with holes in their necks, you know. Well, I guess some of them are, but those are the kinds of guys I don't wanna share my body with!"
Twin spears with dagger-like tips slid out of Lancer's spacious sleeves. She pointed one at Saber.
"If a fight's what you want, Saber-chan, I'd be more than happy to oblige. I'll shove my long, hard shaft into you and have you take responsibility with your body~" She licked her lips. "Is that okay, Master?"
--------------
Darryl
Darryl sighed. I don't see how we have a choice. This information is too valuable to pass up. Kinda ruins the dramatic exit though... | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,467 | 1,484 | 28 | 1,726 | 596 | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Lycusio wanted to exclude himself from this event of Magi, but unfortunately, it seemed the servant before him had already pronounced him master. He sighed with a complex expression and nodded in acknowledgement to his fate. Lycusio quietly monitored the ebb and flow of the conversation among other masters letting out a breath of relief. That was, until some other chick ran over and started groping Saber like a very aggressive molester.
Lycusio was somewhat concerned for the sake of the girl who had just pronounced her loyalty to him, but it quickly became apparent to him that she could defend herself with a sweep of her sword that looked to kill. She then asked Lycusio and his 'Lady' whether to flee or fight. Lycusio instantly tensed to the point that his pants rippled with the tremendous amounts of "Oh shit"-clenching.
"Ah, let's not do that, little one, fighting would be the worst case scenario for all of us." He says in a strained voice, quickly striding over while Lancer unsheathed her weapon. Gently pushing the pointed lance away from Saber, he turned to face his servant with a gracious but strenuous smile. "You can regain your dignity on better circumstances, little one, let's leave for now so my slow mind can collect itself."
With a steady spin on the heel, Lycusio faced Lancer and bowed apologetically, although it was fairly obvious he was well practiced to such motions. Raising his head with the same smile, he apologized, "I'm sincerely sorry for this misunderstanding, please excuse us as we take our respectful leave." He muttered, backing away slowly while blocking Saber from Lancer's sight with his fairly sizable frame. | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: Arabic/German/English/Russian
Rudimentary: Cantonese/Mandarin/Turkish/Indo-Aryan
Affiliation:
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 211 lb
Place of Origin: Middle East, Gaza Strip
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. , based as a family company in Germany, with the original name of Holz Security Services. The company soon branched out as an international armory corporation, taking full and unadulterated advantage of the warfare in the Middle East. Fighting for the highest bidder, Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. eventually obtained the assets to match any Middle Eastern army in a frontal conflict on its own.
Executive and son of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.’s chairman, Beringer Holz discovered a child on an expedition through a border town in which the boy was the only standing body amongst corpses. Malnourished and on the verge of death, the child arrived at the mercenary’s settlement with Beringer. Nursed back to health, the child provided ample entertainment for Beringer, and soon, the executive found a use for the child. Giving the child the name Lycusio Vicario, and taught him up from down. At 10, Lycusio was mentored in military arts, he became masterful in multiple forms of combat, especially close combat, as to serve as a competent body guard for Beringer. At 16, Lycusio was taught languages, etiquette, and politics; he became the representative of Beringer and filled in for the gatherings that his mentor did not care to attend. At 18, Lycusio became the right hand man of Beringer. Taking over for a great deal of Beringer’s responsibilities, Beringer’s sector of mercenary activity became especially prosperous and he became increasingly close with Lycusio. The two, fabled in ruthlessness and effectiveness, became the most prominent branch of the Holz Mercenary Co. and Lycusio soon rose into the upper echelons of the powerful corporation.
Amidst a covert operation, Beringer and Lycusio were en route to an area of negotiation when the small convoy escort was ambushed. The two fled with their escorts into a nearby building, where they withstood a continuous onslaught for something close to an hour. Eventually Beringer was gunned down executioner style on the rooftop of the building, but before Lycusio shared the same fate, he flew into a rage. Utilizing his hands and other’s weapons alone, he massacred the remaining ambushers. He received multiple gun wounds amidst the melee and was once more upon the fringe of death when he was retrieved by members of the Holz mercenary group.
During his recovery, Lycusio was sent on leave back to Germany where he recovered in the peace of a first world country. There, Lycusio became the heir of Beringer’s branch of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. but has yet to return to his front, remaining in Germany due to his injuries, emotional barriers, and the melodic daily life of a peaceful valley in the country of his newfound home.
Recently Lycusio met a mysterious former Magus who taught him the basics of his body’s circuits, to the point that he can use reinforcement magic on himself, but nothing else.
Lycusio grew up seeing the worst of the world. For most of his life, all he knew was war and the politics involved. Only recently has he began to enjoy the merits of a first world country, thus he is rather helpless in anything beyond fighting. Having gone through a nearly endless amount of strife from fighting on both the military front as well as the political front, Lycusio is fairly docile and his thirst for fighting has been completely and totally exhausted.
Growing up under Beringer’s wing, Lycusio adapted his mentor’s slightly twisted sense of justice as well as the need to uphold his mentor’s beliefs. He also has a sense of suspicion towards all others due to the fact that he is so well versed in deceit.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: A- |
54,468 | 1,484 | 29 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Those Masters leaving the barn soon realize, with their feet sinking into the fragrant grass, and sprouting roses beneath them, that the morning's dew has set in, and the sun has begun peeking over the circular mountain range around Odal. Its rays begin to bathe the heavily forested valley in light, as each Master soon realizes not only how hungry they have become, but how tired the entire ordeal has left them, and the scent of cooking meat and fish nearby is beyond alluring. Beyond wild ferns, and worn oak, a blanket of fog nearly smothers the small village of Linden, colorful Slavic houses line up in an orderly queue, broken up by an Inn, a Bed & Breakfast, and a puny Smithy situated in between the two. Already a sinewy man with a brazenly shaven beard is sitting back in a dirty olive lawn chair, his feet are kicked up on his worn anvil as he fits vibrant feathers on a vanilla colored arrow, covered in designs consistent with a Magi-smith's craft. He huffs a pipe in silence, listening to a small record player balanced on a second, smaller red lawn chair, the vinyl record rotates quickly, playing a track by 'Dio'. Judging by the glorious opening riff echoing through the slick brick roads of Linden, he's listening to 'Rainbow in the Dark'. Eventually, a small white haired girl skips out of the ancient door behind him, hopping down the stairs, and onto the gravel below, she then runs over to the vintage record player, and manages to drag the surprisingly resilient device off of her chair. She dusts off any black powder and soot from her assigned seat, and takes her place, kicking her feet upon a slightly smaller anvil from her father's.
The two sit in silence, nodding slowly to the rambunctious beat and tempo of Ronnie James Dio, blanketed by the shade of the circus tent above them, a rather average sized, short haired black woman swings open the heavy door to the Inn beside them, the strange pair of blacksmiths pay her no mind as they enjoy the early morning; even when she starts batting down a rug of the Persian variety with a cricket bat. "Fenrir, would you turn that down?" she asks the Blacksmith with an easily recognizable Scottish accent, Fenrir just waves his hand dismissively at her, and says "No, Jacklin." a crashing wave of gray smoke disperses from his lips, which barely part as he speaks. Jacklin lets out a frustrated huff, and drags her expensive Persian carpet back inside the hulking inn. She lays it down with leisure, in front of a carefully constructed counter, covered with keys that rattle on their own, and brightened by a towering silver lamp. Once she's satisfied with the straightness of her tremendously expensive carpet, Jacklin stands up again, stretching with a tremendous yawn, she finally relaxes, and hops over the counter, taking her seat on a renovated bar stool hidden behind it. She pulls an old fashioned Ipod from her back pocket, with a pair of headphones to block out the loud classic rock outside, and confides in sorting out the rusty keys in front of her; all of which begin shaking violently at her tenacious touch. "Blast these feckin' keys." she grumbles aloud, sorting them with much angry huffing, and vexed growling.
Just past the Smithy, the Bed & Breakfast starts waking up, and its owner, Eme, comes rushing out with a smoking pot, she sets it down with a worried gasp, several children, all dressed up in aprons that are several sizes too large, all follow suite, they seem younger than the blacksmith's daughter, and much more timid; clinging onto their mother's blouse as they peer at the smoldering pot with wide, blue eyes. Eme shoos them back inside, ushering them in in flustered German, she then directs her attention to Fenrir and his daughter, who's begun rearranging her father's tools "Could you please turn that down?!" she requests in shaky English, which Fenrir promptly replies with "No, Eme." as if this had become a daily routine. Eme just stomps her foot in protest, and rushes back inside the small Bed & Breakfast with gusto, charging through the short entrance hall, and past the long dining table beyond it, and into the kitchen. Already all of her children are getting out more cooking supplies for their mother, greeting her with smiles, and exuberant waves, which Eme responds to in kind with a reassuring "guten Morgen!" and a forced smile, she soon gets back to the stove she was originally working on, until her oatmeal had burst into flames - somehow - and returns to the eggs and bacon she had been cooking. The breakfast foods she had been preparing all share the same massive metal pan, sizzling on the butter she had lathered underneath them earlier, she grasps both handles - with her bare hands - and drags the steel platter to the island counter in the center of the kitchen, beside a sizable jug of warm milk, and a pile of pancakes. She claps her hands with an excited "Gut!", and snaps her fingers, snuffing out the raging fire under her wood stove with that simplistic incantation, she then waltzes over to the opposite side of the kitchen, to a large three tub metal sink, mounted on another counter, which is monitored by a golden rosary hanging from a large metal stake.
Just as Eme begins to relax, a loud series of energetic foot steps comes cascading down the hardwood footsteps to the second floor of her house, a man in a hula shirt, and a pair of baggy shorts arrives in the dining room, readjusting a pair of purple aviators. "Guten morgen!" he sings with an excessively American accent, before he picks a small messenger bag up from the end of the table, and the loud mouthed American slings it over his shoulder, spinning on his sandal-clad heel. "Adieu!" he exclaims "I'm out to get those groceries you've been asking for." is all he says before he's out the door, and Eme is peering into the empty dining room, trying to find the words to warn her patron that she made breakfast for him, but fumbling on the execution. Outside, the American gives Fenrir and his daughter a high five, and tosses a pebble at the humongous front window to Jacklin's diner, chuckling with a playful grin as Jacklin opens the gaping portal, and throws a tacky pen at him. It misses him by a centimeter, and lands on the brick road around him with a quiet 'clatter', he ignores this as he starts jogging to the next town over: Idalia, which is host to the bustling shopping district he's looking for. There's crippling vacancies in both the Inn and the Bed and Breakfast, and surely bed and board come cheap here in Odal... right? | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,469 | 1,484 | 30 | 1,278 | 8,110 | Be thankful to my master, Lancer. Saber said s she dismissed the glinting sword back to the aether. She still faced Lancer with imperial composure, a steely gaze that would put even that womanizer Astolfo back in his place when he started to get too cozy with Saber, stared up at the tall, buxom woman as the petite knight said "I, Charlotte, who once ruled this land under the name of Charlemagne, swear that my blade shall be the one to strike down your spears once we cross paths again."
Saber then turned her back to Lancer and started to walk away along with her Masters, just to turn and address Darryl before leaving "Caster's Master, you seem like the only one here worthy of proposing an alliance to. Once my Masters have settled their workshop, come discuss the terms, of you're interested."
Despite her royal bearing in the presence of others, once Saber was alone with her Masters, she couldn't help but puff her cheeks and pout "Why you did that, Master? That vixen molested me and insulted both of you and still you allow her to walk away like that?" Behaving every sliver like the little girl that she looked like.
. | Removed, 'cause this really doesn't belong here. |
54,470 | 1,484 | 31 | 663 | 47 | The assumed master took his hand and used it to bring her to a standing position. As soon as she was up she started to adjust the bandages that covered her body, and fell forward into a hug which lasted only long enough for him to notice it. The master looked up and showed a cloth smothered smile.
"I'm not sure if you know or not, but my name is Janiyah Crocker. It's very nice to meet you." The master greeted the servant in the nicest manner possible, given the circumstances.
The servant turned his head left and right and surveyed the room… master and servants surrounded them. A couple was already beginning to look threatening. A man clapped and demanded the attention of all servants and masters. He explained that the new grail war was beginning and the location was Germany… This could not be coincidence, this cannot be by chance. This was fate, to be given a second chance, his wish was granted. If anyone could see under his mask they would see the most horrifying lip-less grin. But something snapped him out of his momentary happiness, a small tug on the leather cuff stitched and glued to the arm of the suit. The master whispered to the servant, "I'm trusting that you'll follow with haste when I make my way out of here. The last thing we want is to be caught in some kind of cross-fire, or be targeted." The current situation was dangerous for sure. If the servants stayed much longer this could quickly become a terrible blood bath, this realization sent a small amount of panic into the servant’s head, at which point he realized his class for the first time… Assassin? “I don’t think that’s right… I never did anything even slightly in relation to cloak and dagger…” Assassin thought, but that wasn’t important at the moment. They needed to get out of this soon-to-be gladiatorial arena. He needed to protect his Dominus and could not let her come to harm.He also realized that he could not allow harm to come to himself for that would be the end of the the Holy Grail War right then and there. He nodded in assent and got into a position to run, through the walls of the rotting barn if need be. | Master: Haas Mesman
True Name:
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5' 7'', and a Lady never tells
Alignment: VERY Chaotic and Notably Good
Strength: B+
Endurance: A
Agility: B+
Prana: C
Luck: C
Class Abilities:
Independent Action; Rank C
Magic Resistance; Rank B
Personal Skills:
Clairvoyance; Rank B+
Divinity; Rank D
Attacks:
Light Attack;
Heavy Attack;
Melee;
Appearance:
Archer is a tall, thin woman with fair skin that sports a perpetual tan, auburn hair with a heavy dose of red that hang, untamed to her hips, and dull brown eyes. Her day-to-day garb is commonly that of a market-dweller of her time, however, she's known to wear more modern clothing, if ordered. Her armor is a system of wall-craft silver-coated iron that afford decent protection without negating her overall agility.
Personality:
Archer is two women in one form, better known as split-personality. The first woman is a simple woman, a bastard daughter, and abandoned child. Raised to be an innocent, and notably an air-headed ditz with few talents, and fewer real life skills. The second woman is a fabled warrior; the blood-thirsty, unnaturally accurate archer that slays her greatest of foes with but a single arrow.
To balance this even mixture of carefree and carnage, Archer shifts personalities balance on her adrenaline level; the more and longer the adrenaline pumping, the stronger and more controlling the darker personality becomes, and vice versa.
Bio:
Noble Phantasm: |
54,471 | 1,484 | 32 | 2,319 | 356 | Tharana carefully inspected her intricate handiwork to definitively secure the perimeter of the Idalia grocery store. In a circular area completely encompassing the store, a pattern of what appeared to be otherworldly spines were staked, oozing forth a sludge that emitted an unique magical energy that Tharana directed into an advanced boundary field around the store. Already ordinary people were streaming out of the store with a dazed look upon their faces, as if they were mindless puppets being led astray. They would not remember thus ordeal, and they would continue to travel for perhaps an hour to where they perceived their residences were before the extra dimensional toxin flowing through their bodies eroded. With a minor ritual, Tharana had also applied the basic concepts of the Buddhist bounded field and caused the shop to naturally repel ordinary people as if they did not recognize it's existence. All of this had been performed in the span of just five minutes, establishing Tharana's exceptional prowess in magecraft. In addition, by using a magical toxin drawn from another dimension, just a mere pittance of energy signatures would be released as if Tharana had simply performed a single action spell. Of course the Ashen Mandrake would notice the irregularity in the store's atmosphere, but Tharana would intercept him regardless. All conceivable exists had been secured by masses of writhing tentacles crowning disembodied lavender eyeballs that scrutinized these exists for any signs of an escaping being with potent magical energy. They were not incredible sentries, and would probably be easily dispatched by the Mandrake but regardless they would act to slow him down.
Tharana herself had prepared for combat with her standard preparations. Her two favored horrors were already summoned to aid her in battle. They were parasitic beings that rooted themselves to a shoulder each, and manifested as a serpentine mass of plum purple flesh that constantly writhed and twisted in a Flux of motion, as if it could not decide on its shape. These tendrils were around four meters long in length and half a meter wide in thickness, and would provide a peerless offense and defense through their malleable shape shifting bodies on par or even exceeding the capacities of the Volume Hydragryum of the El Melloi family.
With an eerie placidity, Therana walked into the main entrance of the store and prepared to engage the fabled Mandrake in combat, waiting for his first move as he had the advantage of surprise. | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,472 | 1,484 | 33 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Leading Archer away towards the main road to the town, Mesman clutched his stomach as they walked. "...Well...You and me, we're going to head into town and find a place to stay. Then, we're going to try and formulate a strategy for the war. We're going to town, and I don't know how long we're staying for. I suppose until the end of the war, is how long we're going to be here. I'm starving too, so yeah, let's get something. Meat sounds good right about now..." Looking back at Archer curiously at the last statement, he says: "Never really met a girl I like that much, but I'd say women for sure."
With all of Archer's questions answered, he made his way into the town, breaking through the morning fog with Archer in tow as he walked down the brick road of the German town, looking around for anything that resembled a hotel, or someplace to stay. Lo and behind, two layed before him. Weighing the option he had between the Inn and the Bed-N-Breakfast, he opted to go for the smaller place. "The other Masters will no doubt be here...besides, we need food now." he decided, a grumble of his stomach pressuring him to go towards the delicious smelling Bed-N-Breakfast. Bumping into the man with the hula shirt, he apologized promptly, blaming his lack of sight in one eye to himself as he opened the door. "Hallo" he greeted the owner and the children. "My sister and I were looking for a place to stay for a week or two." he explained in almost perfect German. | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,473 | 1,484 | 34 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lee pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in fusturation. It was abit to early to start a fight, yet Lancer went ahead and started one. In retaliation of Lancers actions, Saber called upon the Code of Chivalry, and demanded a fight with Lancer. Lee was sure that Japanese Samurai were not bound by the same code, Bushido was it? Lee was not sure, again, his knowledge of Japanese history was abit lacking.
Saber swiftly brought out her Noble Phantasm and pointed it at Lancer's neck. Lee made no move to stop her, or to warn Lancer. He remembered the Master of Caster's words, he had proclaimed that he was leaving, yet they had stayed. It made sense, with the break out of a fight, they could observe, they were already able to get a look at Saber's Noble Phantasm. Lee looked back at Lancer in time to see her retaliate by bringing out her spears, adding some provocative comments in as she did.
"Lancer, back off." Lee, raking his hand through his hair exasperatedly.
Thankfully, it seemed that the Master of Saber was on Lee's side in this matter. He had successfully calmed Saber down, since her blade dissaperaed. Lee sighed, that was too stressful for him, hopefully this would not happen to often. He was surprised to see Saber's Master apologize to Lancer, Lee had a new found respect for the Master. It even moved Lee to pity him when his Servant reveled her true identity, Charlemagne. Lee would have never guessed that he was a her, history seemed to get a lot of things wrong.
"Lancer, were leaving." Lee said simply as he walked out the barn door. "Oh, and one more thing, Master of Berserker, I would like to propose and alliance if you so please." Lee said before he left once and for all.
Lee's boots sunk into the soft grass, a feeling the Lee wasn't used to. The first rays of the sun began peeking over the mountains, which meant that he had spent the night here. The scent of cooked meat filled his nostrils, instantly making his mouth water. Because of his kidnapping, he had missed dinner last night. The family is going to be concerned if I don't contact them. I needed to get organized. Lee thought to himself. Lee walked towards the village, as he made his way towards the settlement, he could sense the ebb of magic in the air, Eastern Magic to be specific. From the hill Lee could see almost the whole town, there was a concentration of mana at a building not to far from the Inn. It was a Boundary Field that was extremely advanced, but not beyond comprehension. This quiet town was about to get a lot of action. | NAME:
Lee "Lao" McLloyd
(He is no Katana wielding badass, that would be pretty boring)
Character Type:
Master of Lancer
Languages:
English/Mandarin
Affiliation:
McLloyd Family
Height:
6'5"
Weight:
201 lb
Place of Origin:
Shanghai
Bio:
Lee was originally born into the Mik Family in it's main branch headquarters in Shanghai. Most of his child hood was spent learning the inner workings of Magecraft with his families teachers. But Lee was born an anomaly by Mik Family standards. He was blessed with 35 Magical Circuits instead if the normal 20 in compar to the rest of the Mik. Because of this, he become sort of a celebrity, but the glamor quickly dissaperaed as time went on. Lee soon went on to learn the Supreme Ultimate, the graphical representation of the Yin-Yang theory. In succession of learning this, Lee also learned the art Tai Chi, learning and mastering both its traditional and modern forms. Lee quickly became a prominent man in his family, and was soon sent to American to supervise the branch family there. Reasons for this are unknown, but Lee changed his last name to the branch families.
Personality:
On the surface, Lee comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, he has a penchant for wandering off on his own. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, Lee is extremely personable and has a particularly complimentary nature that easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects hide the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lee also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his own ultimate goal. Lee has a considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but Lee is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lee is very protective of family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deem their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. Lee has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and he uses his loved ones as hid primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Bloodline:
Mik:
Is a Chinese family that is considered elite in relation to the rest of the families. Despite this, they are extremely secretive and quite about there actions. They have no close ties to any families, opting to keep outside relations to a minimum. It's current head head Xhao Lin the Tenth. Despite this quiet and secretive nature, they are quite prominent in the Mage's Association. The Mik also have a branch family in America called the McLloyd, which Lee has come so supervise under the order of Xhao. The Mik Family has existed as far back as the start of the Tang Dynasty. Members of this family ate considered masters of the Supreme Ultimate.
Blood Type
O |
54,474 | 1,484 | 35 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Archer raised an eyebrow. 'Sister, hm? Such games we play. I have never been a sister. I wonder, how does it work? Should I--' Suddenly, the woman was broken from her thoughts, but the rumbling of her stomach. "Brother. I wish to end my fast brought by travel. I require meat!" she says, boisterously. "Fish. Pork. Such things have great purpose in my diet," she says, adding, "wheat breads with cheese and dried figs, as well!"
A true Athlete's Diet, if the method still stood in this day and age.
"And, much wine!" Archer added, hastily. "Would be a tragedy to dine without." | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,475 | 1,484 | 36 | 2,319 | 356 | Therana
Contrary to her prior thoughts, it seemed that Therana possessed the advantage of surprise in this scenario. She savored this feeling of control, the empowering thrill of a predator stalking its prey coursing throughout her being. It was always in these scenarios that Therana felt most alive. Her senses sharpened in instinctive response, her mind accelerated its thought processes and drained away excess thoughts to leave behind but a peerless dedication to a single goal, and her mindset underwent a paradigm shift towards one exceptionally conducive towards success in this scenario. Therana took in a deep draught of breath, inhaling in the rather stuffy and overly air conditioned air of the store that was laced with the homely smell characteristic of produce isles. A slight throbbing pain pulsated from both her shoulders where the two alien flesh masses wriggled, probing the air for a foreign presence with their current bodies morphed to possess a layer of skin riddled with hyper sensitive organisms that scoured the surrounding air for the slightest of environmental differences. These two monsters fed off of Therana's own body of course, but their usefulness and longevity far overshadowed the drain cost of maintaining them. In any case, Therana could feed them the magical energy stored in her magic crest in the case that her own body sustained too much strain.
If these organisms had been found by the Association, they would have been branded as rare treasures almost miraculous in their potency and mystery, rivaling the pricelessness of phantasmal beast specimens of renown. With the remarkable ability to morph their alien bodies at Therana's whim and alter intrinsic biological aspects of their being, the serpentine parasites served as sword, shield, and bow concurrently. The fact that their extra-dimensional constitution allowed them to produce substances native to the dimension of Horrors and almost completely unknown in this current realm also aided their lethal potency, as any toxins produced by them would nearly always be invariably fatal simply on basis of having never been encountered before and having a constitution unable to be neutralized by simple healing magic mysteries. They were monsters described of only in texts that detailed horrors representing the absolute evils of humanity - beings geared towards the most efficient slaughter of mankind possible. A certain french noble in the Hundred Years War had attained a means of accessing these beings through the usage of a marvelous mystic code, but Therana was unique in that her very being was connected to this dimension. This connection allowed her to completely subvert the complex rituals required to manifest beings from other dimensions, letting her body become a conduit or pathway from which monstrosities from this alien dimension could arrive. Of course, Therana would not be able to control these beings once they entered the current realm as she merely invited them, which is why she highly preferred to operate with select beings that she had implicit trust in or could be fully controlled through a symbiotic relationship such as with her current two parasites.
With elegant, graceful steps, Therana navigated through the aisles with inhuman speeds, her body currently being reinforced by a spell unique to the magical system of the horrors. A pattern of coal black energy streaked throughout Therana's limbs to signal this reinforcement, taking a chaotic breaking pattern that caused Therana's limbs to appear as if they were porcelain extremities shattering. She spotted the Executioner soon enough, and immediately she found dislike for him. He appeared to be an utter idiot to her, blithely ignoring his environment. Such people wasted the Earth's blessings in Therana's opinion, and she sought to end the burden upon the planet soon enough. Standing utterly still behind an aisle of groceries nestled in the Executioner's path, Therana waited until he came within seven meters of her being. As soon as the Ashen Mandrake stepped within Therana's maximum active range of ten meters, she had reinforced her two serpentine parasites. When he had tread within eight meters of her, Therana casted an otherwordly spell,
"Fm'latgh"
Immediately one of the parasitic protrusions changed its shape into a bulbous wart shaped mass of flesh that tapered off into a circular mouth inlaid with hundreds of encircling teeth. Noxious slime with the same consistency of pus spewed forth from the parasite's skin, dripping onto the ground in thick, viscous rivulets so caustic as to burn through the ground two inches. When the Executioner was within seven meters of range, the engorged parasite released its contents, ejecting a highly pressurized blast of plum purple fluid aimed at the man's torso in an attempt to completely incapacitate him and to reduce margin of error for the attack's strike area. | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,476 | 1,484 | 37 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Executioner
The man in the hula shirt was no dunce, the area around the grocery store not only appeared different, but smelled different, the discharge and consumption of Prana had a certain scent that he had become accustomed to. To him it was like burning rubber, but he was sure to other powerful Magi it was of a different quality, or he had an acquired gift that had graced a very few. Either way, the people avoiding the store, and the general atmosphere inside was a dead give away, fit for an excessively confident amateur. This entire trap bored him, but he played along, walking right into its epicenter, the only reason he stayed was because something caught his attention, a malevolent presence, transcendent beyond the current level of existence he's in. This alarmed him, almost, what unholy sacrament had been made here? He felt merciful none the less, and if this demon wanted to kill him, he would have the common courtesy to allow his foe the first strike.
Eme wanted all mannerisms of things, so before the fighting started, he found it fit to gather these groceries, he didn't want her coming back here to see the destruction he had caused, or be attacked by this creature if he couldn't kill it here and now. By the time his foe decided to lash out against him, he had almost completed the list, much to his surprise, but alas his four minutes of peace ended with the sound of noxious fluid sinking its teeth into the neatly arranged flooring tiles just two paces ahead of him. "...Okay..." he hisses, reaching into his messenger bag, and dropping the grocery basket at his side "Remind." a portal opens in his bag, "You." the Ashen Mandrake states, the stock of a Mossberg M500 bullets from inside whatever dimension he summoned it from and into his right hand, which already has it locked in a vice grip. He doesn't aim and fire, there isn't enough time, he swings, rather, the iron colored barrel barreling through boxes of sugar and flour, and connecting with the creature getting ready to fire at him. For safe measure, he releases the empty Mossberg, and pivots his body so he falls back into the sushi counter behind him.
"Remind you." Executioner says again, a portal spewing forth a Franch Spas 12, personally customized transparent drum barrel attached onto his chest "So, what are you? An Oni? Vampire? Because I've killed all mannerisms of beast." he warns, his American accent is gone now, replaced by a thick Venetian accentuation, which flows off his tongue faster than his American archetype. He stands slowly, carrying the gun like an extension of his body "We both know the answer to that question, however."
___________________________________________________________________________________________ | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,477 | 1,484 | 38 | 2,541 | 1,618 | Darryl
"Tch," Darryl said as the fight dissolved. "Well that was a waste of time. Talk about a cocktease. Let's go, Caster. There's nothing to see here anymore."
The young Clocktower student left with his Servant in tow, heading for the nearest town opposite of Linden, where it looked like a number of other Masters were headed. It seemed like a few of them bordered the place where they'd been kidnapped. What a thoughtful and considerate priest. Darryl would have to remember that when he was tying him up, sticking a bucket over his head and kicking him in the knackers with a size twelve work boot until he howled himself deaf.
The walk into town was filled mostly with a respectful silence, Darryl not pushing to start a conversation where one wasn't needed (or necessarily safe for that matter). After booking a room via telephone at the Linden bed and breakfast for an elderly couple that lived in the village, Darryl wiped their short-term memories with some runic magic and sent them off on their two-week vacation so he and Caster could occupy the house, maybe make a few "rennovations".
"That takes care of that," Darryl said as he finished picking the lock. "I feel bad for kicking those two out of their house for a week, but I think right now we need this place more than they do."
He stepped inside, looking around. It was a simple two-floor house with no basement or cellar, obviously meant for only two people. There was just one bedroom (evidently the elderly couple didn't expect to have guests very often) as well as a sofa, fireplace, two televisions (three if you counted the miniature one by the fridge) and a cozy little kitchen complete with a dining nook. Since they lived on the edge of town near the forest, the house had a very cabin-ish feel to it.
"What do you think, Caster? Can you work with this?" Darryl asked, referring to her Territory Creation.
---------------
Lancer
"I don't think being here is a good idea, Master."
Lancer materialized next to Lee wearing an entirely different set of less revealing clothes. For once she looked serious.
"This little hamlet doesn't have much room to run or hide, let alone fight. I'm good at all three, but I'm not a miracle worker. If we hole up in town we'll be spotted for sure, and then what?" Lancer said. "I'm not sure I'll be able to protect you if that Saber-chan comes knocking again! She's soooooo scary! She'll pull off all this delicate little flower's petals and then I'll go 'iyaaaah~'..."
Lancer moaned suggestively, biting her sleeve and reaching for her, ahem, lady bits. Almost as immediately as that nonsequitor began, Lancer turned around and switched moods again.
"Sooooo, I was thinking..."
Grabbing Lee by the shoulder, the two of them disappeared with a snap. The sensation was not dissimilar to being sucked through a tube, and when they arrived at their destination, all that Lee would feel would be some momentary nauseau and dizziness.
"Why don't we make camp out here in the woods? It'd be perfect! Just you and me, with no one else around for miles! They won't be able to sense us at all! Ooooh, it'll be so romantic! Who knows what kinds of naughty things might happen? Plus, I'm famous for building a temple with my bare hands, so we won't even have to sleep out in the rain! Sounds great, right? Say nothing if you agree!" | Name: Darryl Xavier
Gender: Male
Character Type: Master of Caster
Languages: The Queen's English, goddammit (also Gaelic for reasons)
Affiliation: Clocktower
Height/Weight: 180cm/75kg
Place of Origin: Wales
Personality: A serious yet kind-hearted young man who does everything in his power to help others. Headstrong and sarcastic yet considerate when he needs to be, he gives off the air of a cynic, or a knight in rusty armor. Once he sets his mind to something he will pursue it with almost suicidal abandon simply because that is his principle, and although it's his policy to not stick his nose in other people's business, he will never ignore someone in trouble, even if he can only help in the tiniest of ways (don't expect him to remain quiet about it though; next to reading, griping seems to be his favorite pastime). He enjoys classical English literature, skeetshooting, boxing, and watching the History channel (or he did before it became all about conspiracy theories and aliens).
Bio: Born an otherwise normal magus, Darryl's primary distinguishing feature isn't his bloodline, magecraft, or some sort of special ability tied into a dark and tragic past. Darryl has just, since the day he was born, wanted to be a hero. There was no real reason for it, no catalyst. To Darryl, the idea of heroes who had the overwhelming strength and personality to change the world for the better and make a serious impact on things was intoxicating. These were people who could make a difference, a real difference, who could be saviors and role models to people everywhere. He admired them. Worshipped them, even. He immersed himself in the adventures of heroes both real, fictional, and mythological, determined to one day meet such a hero. But as Darryl grew older and learned more about the world, it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that true heroes didn't exist. They were a figment of people's imaginations, easy answers made up by people like him who just wanted a better world that would forever remain a fantasy like all of his favorite heroes. This realization frustrated Darryl, and he decided he'd take it on himself to be a hero to other people if no one else would, even if he didn't want to. But his initial attempts were just about as successful as his attempts to find a real hero in the first place. Real life didn't have easy answers or justice like children's stories and folktales, and his failure to live up to his ideal only fed deeper into itself until Darryl simply helped people because he felt like he had to, turning the innocent child who'd looked up from his story books dreaming of heroes and knights in shining armor into a weathered cynic who wants desperately to be a hero but is too world-weary to believe such a thing even exists. Yet even though he complains and decries heroism and chivalry as stupid and outdated, he still pursues his dream endlessly, working harder every day to become an Enforcer for the Clocktower, the closest thing he can recognize as a hero in his world.
Bloodline: Xavier, a dying family of Gaelic origins that has resided in the United Kingdom for centuries. Having reached the peak of their power long ago, the family's numbers have dwindled to the point that they have one main nuclear family consisting of Darryl, his father, and his mother, and a few branch families of a similar homely size, having at most two or three siblings, usually only one of which is a magus. Long gone is the family manor (although the Xaviers still live comfortably), and the name which was once respected has faded into the worn printed pages of the history books. No one in the family seems to mind this decline however, and Darryl was taught by his father to appreciate the things one does have, so he rarely lets the state of his family and his bloodline worry him like other magi.
Magic Type: Runic
Blood Type: AB |
54,478 | 1,484 | 39 | 1,529 | 520 | Berserker coldly observed his Master as she addressed the rest of the people gathered in a very rude manner. If he was still the man who he was in life than he would've a hearty laughter at her spirit while at the same time showing amazement at someone who would be so dedicated to being insufferably arrogant that she or he would translate their mockery into several different languages. Seeing someone try so hard was even somewhat cute, to be honest.
But Berserker didn't do anything. He wasn't able to.
Instead, he obediently followed Rika out from the barn, ignoring everything said and done by other Masters and Servants. Lancer and Saber almost starting a fight while still in the building made Berserker pause for a moment, but feeling their killing intent disappear after their Masters intervened he continued walking behind his own Master.
He wouldn't give any advice on where to go and what kind of place they should make into their base of operations. His was not the role of advisor or companion, only that of a weapon to be used in battle. Opinions were unnecessary for weapons. | Master:
Tohsaka Rika
True Name:
Gender:
Male
Height/Weight:
223cm, 127kg
Alignment:
Chaotic Insane
Strength: A++
Endurance: B
Agility: B
Prana: C
Luck: C+
Class Abilities:
Mad Enhancement A
Skills:
Appearance:
Personality:
Calm and silent, like a machine which has been put on standby. When one sees Berserker's apparently cool demeanor he or she may mistake him for a Servant of another class, or wrongly assume that his Mad Enhancement is of low rank, which couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, the rational part of Berserker's mind was completely wiped, leaving him with a little sense of self. The only thing left for him is his incredible bloodthirst which constantly radiates from his cold blue eyes. Currently he awaits at his Master's leisure to be unleashed upon her enemies, but once he's off the chain he will not stop until either he or his opponents perish.
Noble Phantasm(s): |
54,479 | 1,484 | 40 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Well, that's lucky of us. C'mon sis, let's grab a seat. he said, leading Archer over to a nearby table, smelling the breakfast, he couldn't help but have a loud growl escape his stomach. Turning to Archer once they were seated, he said: "Well...that's a bit much just for breakfast. For now we'll make do with what we can, and maybe I'll get some groceries later. For now, we need somewhere to stay. And I don't want you getting drunk. Not when we're going to be in danger from the others.
Humming, he looked around the place with his one eye, smiling slightly. "This place feels very...home-y. You've done a remarkable job with the interior, Ma'am." he said, his linguistics going from German to Dutch somewhere near the home-y part. He didn't really know how to translate slang into anything else, so it must have sounded odd. | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,480 | 1,484 | 41 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lee was startled by Lancer's sudden appearance, he had half expected her to still be inside messing with Saber. Instead she made an argument that was extremely convincing, but Lee felt that this was the place were all the action would be. Unfortunately, having a bunch of blood thirsty Mages in an enclosed space with warriors made so serve them was not the best place to be. Especially since Saber would be after Lancer to restore her honor.
Lee looked back at Lancer to make a rebuttal, just in time to see her...
Lee instinctively covered his eyes and looked away, his cheek turning a light shade of pink as he did so. "Píngjìng, píngjìng, píngjìng." Lee mumbled over and over again in order to get himself to calm down. Lee hadn't a lot of experience dealing with women like Lancer, Lee wasn't even sure what type of woman Lancer was. Lee took a deep breath and let his hand fall from his eyes. Thankfully she was finished, and became serious again.
Her hand appeared on his shoulder and he was taken to a completely different area if the forest. Lee immediately felt blind.
His eyes still worked—he could see mottled light shining on the smooth, silver trunks of the wood, could track the shadows playing over the forest floor—but all he could find in any direction were the trees, stretching on and on over small rises and little streams into forever. He lost his sense of direction, swatted nervously at small biting flies while the pool of sweat on his back grew thicker and slicker. Birds sang above him. Leaves rustled on the path below. The earthy scent of decaying vegetation filled his nostrils.
He had to admit that the trees were beautiful. They stretched to vast heights, higher than the scrubby things he’d seen out on the plains of China's country side, or even the massive oaks in the Mik Family mansion. Some of them were so tall their tops were hidden by the leaves of smaller trees, others so thick that it would have taken two long-limbed men holding hands to reach around them. They smelled good, too; the air was perfumed with a sweet, flowery odor that reminded him of a scent his mother sometimes wore.
They made him uncomfortable all the same. He had grown used to being able to see for miles over the plains, used to smelling what was coming on the wind on China's country side.
"Alright Lancer, I don't know about romantic, but if you say this is the best course of action, so be it. Lee said as he studied their surroundings. Despite that, Lee still longed to see what was going on in Linden. Lee shrugged it off and began walking into the forest.
"Begin working on the Temple, I have to go take care if something." Lee called as he waved goodbye.
Lee walked beeper into the forest, despite his feeling uncomfortable, he still pressed on. He could hear the sounds of rushing, like wind in the mountains or water. Lee found what he was looking for, a waterfall. Standing from afar, Lee gazed at the waterfall, he could not deny the excellence of the Creator of such a wonder that softened the earth, provided water for the soil and let the tourist enjoy the beauty of nature . No wonder many people were fascinated by this work.
Lee took of his jacket and dress shirt, placing his them on a rock near the bank of the fall. He also took of his boots and socks for good measure.
Lee's feet plunged into the icy waters of the falls. This would be the best place to meditate, it was beautiful, and the sound of rushing water actually soothed his soul. Lee waded over to a rock directly under the waterfall, it's cold embrace calming him. With the series if events that had thrust him into a War he had no reason to join, he had to wonder, why was he chosen. He had no desire, no wish that needed to be fulfilled. If Lee was going to take part in this war, he needed to figure out what his heart desired to attain so much, that the Grail heeded its call. | NAME:
Lee "Lao" McLloyd
(He is no Katana wielding badass, that would be pretty boring)
Character Type:
Master of Lancer
Languages:
English/Mandarin
Affiliation:
McLloyd Family
Height:
6'5"
Weight:
201 lb
Place of Origin:
Shanghai
Bio:
Lee was originally born into the Mik Family in it's main branch headquarters in Shanghai. Most of his child hood was spent learning the inner workings of Magecraft with his families teachers. But Lee was born an anomaly by Mik Family standards. He was blessed with 35 Magical Circuits instead if the normal 20 in compar to the rest of the Mik. Because of this, he become sort of a celebrity, but the glamor quickly dissaperaed as time went on. Lee soon went on to learn the Supreme Ultimate, the graphical representation of the Yin-Yang theory. In succession of learning this, Lee also learned the art Tai Chi, learning and mastering both its traditional and modern forms. Lee quickly became a prominent man in his family, and was soon sent to American to supervise the branch family there. Reasons for this are unknown, but Lee changed his last name to the branch families.
Personality:
On the surface, Lee comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, he has a penchant for wandering off on his own. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, Lee is extremely personable and has a particularly complimentary nature that easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects hide the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lee also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his own ultimate goal. Lee has a considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but Lee is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lee is very protective of family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deem their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. Lee has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and he uses his loved ones as hid primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Bloodline:
Mik:
Is a Chinese family that is considered elite in relation to the rest of the families. Despite this, they are extremely secretive and quite about there actions. They have no close ties to any families, opting to keep outside relations to a minimum. It's current head head Xhao Lin the Tenth. Despite this quiet and secretive nature, they are quite prominent in the Mage's Association. The Mik also have a branch family in America called the McLloyd, which Lee has come so supervise under the order of Xhao. The Mik Family has existed as far back as the start of the Tang Dynasty. Members of this family ate considered masters of the Supreme Ultimate.
Blood Type
O |
54,481 | 1,484 | 42 | 1,726 | 596 | Just give me time to restore my items and armors. I'm still on the disoriented side of things, Archer admitted, sheepishly, before adding: "Also, NEVER is it TOO early for drinking, Brother." Looking around, Archer took in the tactical situation; analyzing the room, while attempting to appear casual, as she looked for fixed points of entry. Unfortunately, if that Caster, Lancer, and Saber were to be any indication... the walls might as well be useless. If there was a Berserker in the mix, then the walls might as well not even exist. "Brother, I really do not wish to stay more than a day, if others linger," Archer says, not comfortable with the overall exposure. "Might we leave, after we eat? At least, the general vicinity?"
If the Saber and the Caster fought... and the Lancer involved herself... and the possible Berserker triggered...
"I just have a bad feeling..." | Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: Arabic/German/English/Russian
Rudimentary: Cantonese/Mandarin/Turkish/Indo-Aryan
Affiliation:
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 211 lb
Place of Origin: Middle East, Gaza Strip
Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. , based as a family company in Germany, with the original name of Holz Security Services. The company soon branched out as an international armory corporation, taking full and unadulterated advantage of the warfare in the Middle East. Fighting for the highest bidder, Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. eventually obtained the assets to match any Middle Eastern army in a frontal conflict on its own.
Executive and son of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co.’s chairman, Beringer Holz discovered a child on an expedition through a border town in which the boy was the only standing body amongst corpses. Malnourished and on the verge of death, the child arrived at the mercenary’s settlement with Beringer. Nursed back to health, the child provided ample entertainment for Beringer, and soon, the executive found a use for the child. Giving the child the name Lycusio Vicario, and taught him up from down. At 10, Lycusio was mentored in military arts, he became masterful in multiple forms of combat, especially close combat, as to serve as a competent body guard for Beringer. At 16, Lycusio was taught languages, etiquette, and politics; he became the representative of Beringer and filled in for the gatherings that his mentor did not care to attend. At 18, Lycusio became the right hand man of Beringer. Taking over for a great deal of Beringer’s responsibilities, Beringer’s sector of mercenary activity became especially prosperous and he became increasingly close with Lycusio. The two, fabled in ruthlessness and effectiveness, became the most prominent branch of the Holz Mercenary Co. and Lycusio soon rose into the upper echelons of the powerful corporation.
Amidst a covert operation, Beringer and Lycusio were en route to an area of negotiation when the small convoy escort was ambushed. The two fled with their escorts into a nearby building, where they withstood a continuous onslaught for something close to an hour. Eventually Beringer was gunned down executioner style on the rooftop of the building, but before Lycusio shared the same fate, he flew into a rage. Utilizing his hands and other’s weapons alone, he massacred the remaining ambushers. He received multiple gun wounds amidst the melee and was once more upon the fringe of death when he was retrieved by members of the Holz mercenary group.
During his recovery, Lycusio was sent on leave back to Germany where he recovered in the peace of a first world country. There, Lycusio became the heir of Beringer’s branch of Holz Krieger Mercenary Co. but has yet to return to his front, remaining in Germany due to his injuries, emotional barriers, and the melodic daily life of a peaceful valley in the country of his newfound home.
Recently Lycusio met a mysterious former Magus who taught him the basics of his body’s circuits, to the point that he can use reinforcement magic on himself, but nothing else.
Lycusio grew up seeing the worst of the world. For most of his life, all he knew was war and the politics involved. Only recently has he began to enjoy the merits of a first world country, thus he is rather helpless in anything beyond fighting. Having gone through a nearly endless amount of strife from fighting on both the military front as well as the political front, Lycusio is fairly docile and his thirst for fighting has been completely and totally exhausted.
Growing up under Beringer’s wing, Lycusio adapted his mentor’s slightly twisted sense of justice as well as the need to uphold his mentor’s beliefs. He also has a sense of suspicion towards all others due to the fact that he is so well versed in deceit.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: A- |
54,482 | 1,484 | 43 | 1,278 | 8,110 | Saber
Despite her earlier tantrum, Saber walked by the side of her Masters paying close attention to their surroundings, eying every bush and shadow, looking for the presence of other Masters or Servants, specially aware of the cowardly Assassin, for her Masters' safety depended only on her reaction time once the dark slayer set its blades with the intention to kill.
She barely registered when Lycusio patted her head at first, but when the man who towered over her smiled and tried to convince Saber to set her anger aside, at least for now, her thin lips displayed a timid smile as she said "I'll heed your words then, Master. Getting aggravated that filthy woman's behavior is beneath the standing of a knight such as I."
When she was sure that they were away from any danger, Saber switched sides and now she walked closer to Jakob, while he was also taller than the miniature knight, his pitiful physique made Saber think that he would need her protection much more than Lycusio, who had the eyes of a seasoned soldier "Are you feeling well now, Master? Or am I still draining too much mana from you? Even though I'd like to remain like I'm now, if you wish I could assume a spirit form, to easy your burden."
"I would like to answer your previous question, Master, but the knowledge that I have about the Holy Grail War is only the one that the Grail imparted on me and I lack the knowledge of magecraft to make myself clear enough for you." Saber said, after taking a couple of steps ahead and turning to face Lycusio "The only things that I'm certain of, is that both of you share the roles as my Masters. You posses the Command Spells and thus the right to order me in battle, while Jakob provides me with the mana that I need to keep my physical body, acting as anchor that keeps me on this world."
Then, she faced Jakob again "Other than that I can't say much more, but Jakob seems like an experienced magus, perhaps you should ask him for more information."
Saber, stopped walking for a moment and turned her gaze towards the ground of the land that she once ruled under the name of her deceased brother. In this rural region, away from the modern marvels, the time didn't seemed to have passed at all and Saber almost felt like she could recognize some of the oldest trees and rocks. Most certainly, this had been a battlefield she trod in the past and thus no place could be more fitting for her to engage in a new campaign.
However, for the time being she would set such concerns aside...
"Hmm... if it's not unfitting for me to ask," Saber had a bashful smile in her lips as she tried to express her wish to her Masters "I'd like some clothes, the Grail didn't gave me anything more than this armor." Saber realized just now the shame that it would have been if Lancer had indeed managed to remove her armor and her hatred for that shameless woman grew even further. "Also, If it's not too much to ask, could we find a place to eat and play? I hardly think that the modern world can compete with the bards of old, or Astolfo's antics, when it comes to entertainment, but still, I'd like to see if how today's humanity spend their merry-making time." | Removed, 'cause this really doesn't belong here. |
54,483 | 1,484 | 44 | 2,319 | 356 | Therana
Therana's grim expression took a more animated turn, the onset of a frown beginning to mar her pale face as she witnessed her attack fail. As expected, the Executioner, just like all Church operatives, possessed advanced physical capacities and it seemed that rumors regarding him possessing the capacity to draw forth from an endless supply of weapons and ammunition from either imaginary space or a reality marble seemed true. In that regard, both the Executioner and Therana were alike. Both relied upon the aid of an alien space in order to augment combat, but how this augmentation manifested greatly differed between Therana and the Executioner.
The canister and gun that the Executioner threw to halt one of Therana's horrors were immediately devoured in instinctive response. The horror's circular mouth split apart and widened, allowing for its digestive system to be vomited forth in the shape of a mass of luminescent black pulsating organs suspended in a sea of thick, purple mucus like digestive acid. The barrel and gun were immediately engulfed in this embrace, and dissolved rapidly before being sucked back into the horror along with the digestive system. Therana quickly assessed her current knowledge to formulate a strategy. It was apparent that the Executioner mainly relied upon ranged weapons should rumors regarding his actions be somewhat corroborated, and his limitless ammunition on top of his endless versatility entailed significant power at both mid and long range distances. His direct capabilities in close combat were unknown, and it may have been that they were as exceptional as those Executors of the Church who could slaughter dead apostles with their bare hands and that the Executioner was merely playing towards his strengths. Regardless, Therana was confident she would be able to defeat even an Executor in close combat merely because her horrors were both faster and stronger than what even humans empowered by the Chuch could be under regular circumstances. Knowing this, Therana decided upon a melee strategy to prevent the Executioner from being able to utilize his unique abilities intermittently.
With reinforced legs, Therana quickly pushed off from her location, her left horror morphing into a massive arm of rippling muscle that easily smashed apart the aisle in her way without so much as slowing her down. The ground beneath her feet splintered into a diminutive crater as her form surged towards the Executioner at breakneck speeds.
"Asking such questions isn't polite to a lady you know, not that I would expect your type to have much tact" exclaimed Therana with a sardonic tone as her eyes focused in on the Executioner, her swiftly moving form barreling towards him. She still had to be cautious though, so it was noticeable that though her left horror was aggressively positioned in front of her as an offensive arm shaped weapon ready to pummel the Executioner into a bloody pulp, her right horror remained by Therana's side, prepared to alter its composition to become a defensive protection should things turn sour. | Mage's Association Rep/Enforcer
NAME: Tharana Phlegeth
Character Type: Human
Languages: English, ???
Affiliation: Mage's Association
Height: 181 cm
Weight: 68 Kg
Place of Origin: London
Bio:
-Bio heavily condensed for secrecy purposes-
Tharana is the seventh head of the Phlegeth family, which is respected throughout the Association for its research and ability in spiritual evocation. It is said that she was born with a miraculous natural ability, but exactly what this ability was is largely unknown. It is known however that Tharana uncharacteristically is both an enforcer and active presence in the Association, often disappearing for large stretches of time on assignments the Association grants her. The nature of her assignments and how and what Tharana does to accomplish them is a highly guarded secret by the Association, and there are no survivors to date to have told tales of an encounter with Tharana's abilities. It should be noted that the spiritual evocation that Tharana's family is involved in has little to no combative usages, and is mainly a research field.
All that is known to those not affiliated with the inner rungs of the Association are fanciful rumors and tall tales of what exactly Tharana does, ranging from modifying her own body to be a living weapon to being the heir to some grand mystical artifact of a sunken city. The mission assigned to Tharana in the present is clear however: Eliminate the man known as the "Executioner" by any means possible, ascertain the nature of the grail, and eliminate any and all obstacles and preferably witnesses also.
Personality:
Tharana is a reserved and aloof woman, being a natural introvert. It is not that fear or inability to cope with novelty hinders any sort of extensive interaction with others, but rather that she has become accustomed towards being withdrawn. Ordinarily this would entail an isolation from others, but in Tharana’s case she has grown with the companionship of beings reviled by men. Owing to the fact that her understanding of the world has been received partly through the guiding lens of monsters, Tharana’s values as a human are considerably warped. If a term could be coined to her general mentality, it would be best to deem her jaded. Seemingly as if she has experienced all the world has to offer, Tharana places a pithy of emotional stock into anything. Her world view is by its underlying roots pragmatic. Like the philosophical connotations the word incites, Tharana considers everything with a mindset that could be coined selfish. Her sense of “value” is solely influenced by what the effects of her actions or consideration of others can bring to her. Needless to say, morality or sentimentality are not values compatible with this mindset, and are noticeably either absent or twisted beyond human comprehension. In this manner, Tharana is a ruthless killer in the field is an enforcer, but equally so she is an impassioned and driven magus, as her drive of practicality is an impetus for all things she considers to be goals in her life. Idealism and hope are both values that Tharana considers to be empty wishes that people console themselves with to never truly accomplish anything.
Bloodline:
Originally, the Phlegeth family specialized in spiritual evocation of all kinds, with the ultimate end goal of their research being to find a means to remove one’s soul from the cycle of transmigration. Having been experts in their field for six generations, it was natural that the knowledge the family had garnered was passed down to Tharana through both instruction and magic crest.
In regards to traditional magecraft, Tharana possesses the capacity to perform basic magecrafts such as fixing broken glass, minor healing, etc. Her specialized magecraft, spiritual evocation, allows her to manipulate the temporary memories that Gaia holds of humans or beings that have recently passed on, allowing her to utilize these memories for familiar creation, item construction, and energy sources. However, it is noticeable that this magecraft is not suited for combat and rather specialized towards research.
As an Enforcer, Tharana has been exceptionally successful. By what means is unknown.
Blood Type: AB |
54,484 | 1,484 | 45 | 450 | 421 | Janiyah's whole body relaxed some as the other Masters slowly spread out from the barn, especially as whatever happened between Lancer and Saber died down as fast as it began. She didn't remain still, however, as she began walking out of the barn whilst motioning for Assassin to follow her outside although she had no doubts that he would anyway. As she thought over what the man that'd kidnapped them said, then stopped in her tracks. "Assassin. I think that we should go camp out in the woods to avoid the other Masters. Chances are that they're going to head into the towns, and the last thing we need to be is near any of them."
Without much notice then, she took off into the forest, deciding that food would have to wait for much later in a situation where they would also have to create their own shelter. She slowed down somewhat after a while, however, deciding that it'd be better idea to take her time and make an attempt to remember how she got to where she was going so that she didn't get lost in the woods. After a good while of wandering, she stopped in front of a tree that interested her for some reason that she couldn't place, although it was probably just her being weird. The magus stopped on her heel and, turned quickly.
"We're going to camp out here. I like this pl-" She quickly turned her head to the side, as if she'd heard something or someone, then turned back to Assassin. "As I was saying, I like this place. We should set up a little camp, then worry about other sorts of provisions and our game-plan for the war." | NAME: Janiyah Crocker
Character Type: Human Master
Languages:
Fluent: English/French/Portuguese
Shaky Quality: German/Russian/Latin/Greek
Affiliation: Magi's Association, Croaka Family
Height: 5'3" ft (160.02cm)
Weight: 128 lbs
Place of Origin: Cameroon
Bio: Janiyah was born in her parents' manor in Cameroon, Africa. Well. Parent. Although at the time of her birth Janiyah obviously didn't know what was going on, she would find out as she grew up that her mother died as she gave birth to her because of some reason that she wasn't particularly interested in finding out about. Her father, deciding that he didn't want to grow bitter towards the child for being the reason for the demise of his beloved wife, sent her away to live with her uncle. What he didn't know, unfortunately, was that the uncle was still a rather active magus. Her uncle, Correy, didn't want to take care of something that couldn't protect itself so he decided that the best course of action was to train her in the art of Magecraft and to learn how to use her mana properly.
The first thing that was given to Jani by her uncle was the only possession of his sister's that he had left, the bandages that had been passed down to her by her father, from his mother, from her mother, and so on. After having them applied to her body, she found herself constricted and almost trapped within it and couldn't function normally within the bandages for several days which lead Correy to believe that she just wasn't worth it. But, after struggling for days to function properly, she finally got the hang of it. She began to do what she did normally without much issue, albeit maybe a bit more complication. Thus began her training as a magus.
Several different types of magic were practiced by her, although she only ever showed proficiency in one or two types. She was noted for having a natural affinity for Earth Magecraft, and out of most forms of specialization, she only ever seemed to be able to use minor reinforcement magic, which wasn't enough for her uncle. But after being pushed and pushed, both of her specialties strengthened themselves due to her sheer determination and the years that she put into it.
After finally being released from her uncle's care, who entrusted her with his most cherished item, the blade that had been with him through thick and thin. Janiyah spent her time training and trying to get even better with her magics. When she received the message that she had been chosen to be a Master, she was genuinely confused, but she didn't object and decided she would at least go. Could be interesting.
Personality: Janiyah is a highly positive spirit who believes that the most important part about battling is learning about the person you're facing and knowing as much as you can about them by the end of the battle. This ideal of hers exists even outside of battle, as she tends to enjoy making friends with a passion even if the people she wants to befriend doesn't particularly enjoy her company. She also has a passion for battle, which tends to lead to her going overboard and doing more than she can handle in situations where she needs to be more strategic or even in plain sparring matches. This has lead to her drastically harming people on "accident", but some people that previously knew her theorize that it's quite intentional.
And there's reason to believe this. Her peaceful disposition completely disappears at the mentioning of certain subject matter, and cause her to become very serious and subdued. Within this category of subject matter, certain sentences and words can send her flying into a fit of complete and utter rage. The only reason she's ever given as a cause for it is "I don't particularly like that thing that's being said to me." She doesn't particularly like hoity toity people, but won't show this whilst acting cheery and kind. As a matter of fact, most of her annoyance doesn't show when she's nice.
Bloodline: Croaka, an oriental bloodline from eastern areas of Asia that gradually scattered and spread their ways to the west. They specifically settled in areas of English and French speaking Africa and the surname eventually converted to better fit the culture of the areas, becoming the Crocker subsect of the bloodline. Originally a group of nobles that were closer to Witches and Houjutsushis than traditional magi, as years went by, the bloodline developed an issue due to some sort of irregularity which causes people born of the lineage to be unable to hold their mana in their body properly.
It wasn't noticed until eventually people born of the lineage could no longer be noted as magi, and it was then that they realized their problem. To combat this, rather than constantly exert mana to contain it, they developed enchanted bandages worn around the body similar to embalmed pharaohs in the lands of Egypt. The bandages sealed mana within the body, and helped the younger members of the clan get used to it and learn how to do it without having to learn from complete scratch.
Blood Type: O+ |
54,485 | 1,484 | 46 | 2,220 | 300 | The events from the barn were a complete blur. All that Jakob could remember is that there was a confrontation between Saber and Lancer that ended when Lycusio skillfully defused the situation. From there it was like Jakob was completely out of it. He silently walked beside the pair as they trekked through the countryside. If it wasn't for Saber guiding him he would have walked into a tree a while back. It wasn't until Saber addressed him directly that he came to. "Uh... I'm sorry..... It's fine. My mana pool is great enough to where I can sustain you almost indefinitely. What's really bothering me is why we're both your masters. I've heard of this form of summoning before, but from my understanding it was only known to a select few. Who exactly is behind this?. What do they gain from forcing the Holy Grail War?" Suddenly Saber stopped in her tracks and stared blankly at the landscape. "Your true identity is Charlemagne isn't it? That means at one time you ruled over all of Central Europe, right? I never imagined that Charlemagne would be a girl. All the history books said you were man."
When Saber yet again began to talk to Jakob he had already fazed out yet again. He couldn't go more than a minute without getting lost in his own thoughts. This time he was so lost that he was no longer able to pay attention to his own surrounding. Tripping over a rock, he went flying forwards smacking face first into an old oak tree. Immediately Jakob came to and began to scream in pain. He still wasn't used to pain. Even the slightest thing seemed excruciatingly painful to him. "I hate this! I can't go a minute without getting lost in my own thoughts. None of this makes any sense!." Standing up Jakob placed both hands over his nose. It had been broken in several places from the fall. "Such a waste of mana" A bright green light shined from in between his palms. when he removed his hands it was like his nose had never been broken. "Can we just get somewhere safe? Next time I might accidentally impale myself on a tree branch. Can we also get her some clothes? When we go into town I think the villagers would take notice of a small girl clad in heavy armor." | I am the supplementary master for Saber. (Like Sola-Ui before she was Lancer's master.)
WIP
Jakob Zegher
Character Type: Secondary Master (secondary magical energy supplier)
Languages: Dutch, German, English
Affiliation:
House Zegher
Clock Tower
Height/Weight: 168cm/65kg
Place of Origin: Netherlands
Personality: Jakob has one goal in life. That goal is to restore the Zegher family to its former glory. Through constant research and training, he has become a very power mage that is adept many types of magic. Still people refuse to recognize the fact that he is the last descendant of the Zegher family. This is the main reason why he agreed to joining the holy grail war. Through his victory he hopes that others will finally recognize him as a powerful mage worthy of the Zegher name.
When he isn't focused on improving himself as a mage he is a pretty fun guy. He can be childish at times since he was never told that he had to grow up. He is brave and isn't afraid of conflict even though he is physically weak. If one word had to be chosen to describe Jakob that word would be determined.
Bio: Jakob Zegher, the last known mage of the Zegher family. It's been over 200 years since the Zegher family was believed to have died out. Now all of a sudden a mage with great potential appears bearing the same name. Some brush it off as mere coincidence, but others have chosen to acknowledge that he is, in fact, a Zegher. Jakob wasn't born into the world of magic though, for the first six years of his life he lived without knowing the fact that magic existed. He was born in a small village in northern Netherlands that was almost completely cut off from the rest of society due to constant flooding. He started school a year earlier than most children did, but other than that he seemed to be completely normal.
For six years, he lived completely oblivious to the world around him, but just as the sixth holy war began his life would change forever. While "adventuring" with his friends, Jakob came across an overgrown forest that was shrouded in mist. All his friends had refused to enter, but Jakob wasn't so easily deterred. He was not afraid of what lurked in the forest. He powered onwards unaware that he would never be the same.
What Jakob found in the forest was not monsters, but an old ruined castle. His mind was telling him to turn around and never look back, but for some reason his body couldn't stop moving forwards. It was as if something was drawing him towards the castle. He explored the abandoned halls of the castle and found nothing of interest. There was no treasure, ghosts, monsters. From what he could see the castle was completely empty. He was about to leave, but at the last moment noticed something that he hadn't seen before. At the very end of the hall was a spiralling staircase that went down for what seemed like forever. Going against everything thing that he had learned from watching horror movies. Jakob decided to follow the steps down into the dark abyss that laid in wait for him. There was no more turning back. Jakob had sealed his fate.
What waited for him at the bottom of the steps was not death, but enlightenment. As he reached the bottom he was greeted by a long hallways that stretched on for a few hundred feet. The walls were lined with torches that were lit with blue flame, and what lie at the end was a two large wooden doors. Jakob wanted to run, but when he turned around there was nowhere for him to go. The staircase that was just there a moment ago had disappeared. There was only one place left for him to go. Turning back towards the wooden door, he began to walk down the hall. Once he reached the end of the hall the doors opened on their own. Inside was a massive room filled with thousands of books. At the center of all this was a podium with a single book on top. Jakob approached the podium and brushed a thick layer of dust off the cover of the book. It read "The History of House Zegher". When he opened the book everything went black. His life flashed before his eyes and so did the life of every other member of his house. All this knowledge rushing into him at once. It was too much for his young mind to comprehend. The stress of it all caused him to collapse.
Jakob was out for almost two days before he regained consciousness. His mind had been given time to process what he had just learned. He now knew all about the history of his house and the existence of magic. Opening that book had activated the dormant magic circuits that were inside of him. Now he knew exactly what he needed to do. From there on out Jakob went back to the castle every day and studied from the books the lined its walls. His progress as a mage was astonishing. Within just a few years, he was able to utilize his magic circuits to their furthest extent. Word from the village soon spread that there was a young boy performing what seemed like miracles. It wasn't long until the mage's association caught wind of these rumors. In an effort to stop the existence of magic from being revealed. The mage's association kidnapped Jakob from the village and brought him back to the clock tower where he would be able to continue his study of magic without revealing it to the world.
Bloodline: Zegher is the name of a lost bloodline believed to have died out long ago. It was once one of the greatest mage families in all of Europe. The rise of the Zegher family came long before the first holy grail war. Their roots can be traced back over 700 years to the early periods of the renaissance. They started off as a small family located in northern Germany that only slightly dabbled in the art of mage craft, but as time went on the on the small family gave birth to great magi who would go on to change the face of Europe. For a time, they were considered one of the strongest houses in Europe, but with strength comes rivalry, and with rivalry comes feuds. Around the year 1700 a war broke out between the Zegher and a coalition of other houses. The war lasted over 60 years and ended in the complete annihilation of the Zegher house, or so they thought. What really happened was as the home of the Zegher family was under siege the lady of the house escaped with the heir and fled to northern Holland. There they made themselves a new life. Over time, the name Zegher faded into obscurity. All that is left of the house now is a few pages in history.
Other:
- While at the clock tower Jakob studied under Lord el-Melloi II
- Just like Lord el-Melloi II, Jakob seeks the root of origin by looking towards the future instead of the past.
- Jakob holds great potential. He has 38 magic circuits which he is able to use very efficiently
- Jakob may be a powerful mage, but he is still inexperienced in actual combat.
- Jakob is physically weak. If engaged from a distance he is fine, but if someone gets too close he is done.
Blood Type: AB |
54,486 | 1,484 | 47 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Executioner
Executioner's reaction is almost instinctive, 'remind you' he mutters, summoning an overbearing SRM to his shoulder with an intense flash of blue light. Time slows down as the Ashen Mandrake weighs his chances against this creature, the SRM's HEAT missile has a minimal range of ten meters; and the she beast was already too close. Rather than risk losing an eye to shrapnel, the lone Executor chooses to jump away, farther down the aisle, which rewards him with more range - but Therana's horror clips his hip, breaking the bone in several places.
The Mandrake barrels down the aisle, holding both the SRM launcher, and the shotgun, he fires several haphazard shells in midair, and he barely manages to catch himself on the dimly checkered floor beneath him when he lands near the front entrance; fifteen meters away. He winces, and falls on a knee when the shock of the impact spreads up his leg, and into his broken hip. He raises his SPAS, and fires off three more rounds from his left hand - this time with heightened accuracy - in order to draw out Therana's defensive horror, and prepares the SRM with his right.
____________________ | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,487 | 1,484 | 48 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Understood. If you really need to eat a lot more, I can always foot the bill. Haas said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a somewhat smashed up box of cigarettes, taking one, he quickly realized where he was and put them back, for the sake of the children. Smoking's bad, kiddoes. Regardless, he quickly stood up, after he let a slight chuckle out at the bit about drinking. "Well, I suppose its not for some people. Just make sure you don't get so drunk you can't see straight, alright? And, we'll find a place to stay after we eat, sure." he said heading for the restroom. "I'll be right back."
Making his way to the restroom, Mesman quickly ran the water from the sink cold, forming a bowl with his hands, and splashing a good bit of it onto his face and eyes, helping him to wake up just a bit. "Keep it together Haas...you're a magus, you can handle this. Even if you never expected it, you're in the fight of your life already..." he thought, groaning as he rubbed his jawline. "Damn, can already feel the hair coming back." he said, in a hushed tone. Washing his hands after he was done urinating in the toilet, Mesman walked back out, looking bit less like he'd just been dragged across a country and throw onto the floor, a bit of cloth from the inside of his jacket wrapped around his right hand.
"I'd like to ask you some questions on how you've been Sis, but, you know, don't know who might be listening." he said, casting a weary look towards the door. "I'm a fool...if someone comes in and tries to start a fight, the lady and kids are gonna get caught in the crossfire. We need to go, right away." Thinking back on it, Mesman fucking hated his lack of proper eyesight, since he could hardly even make out what the other masters looked like. All he really remembered was how the servants looked, and that was because people in heavy armor with swords, crowns, cleavage, and masks on stuck out like sore thumbs. | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,488 | 1,484 | 49 | 663 | 47 | If I measured them, by your standards... I think, I am qualified for an A-cup, and yes, it's natural, Archer says. "Truth be told, I do not intend to uphold my diet. Wine has... many uses," she says. "In time of battle..." she leaned in, lowering her voice a touch or two, "I've found it makes a quick fire."
Archer didn't want to fight here. A pitcher of wine would be a quick flame, and a quick flame could be a great fire indoors, and a great fire indoors made for a, possibly, great escape. If worst came to worst, she could start a fire, and set her and Haas towards the back. Judging from Haas's refreshed look, there was a washing room, and that meant windows to escape out of.
"Hopefully, our food is soon..." | Master: Haas Mesman
True Name:
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5' 7'', and a Lady never tells
Alignment: VERY Chaotic and Notably Good
Strength: B+
Endurance: A
Agility: B+
Prana: C
Luck: C
Class Abilities:
Independent Action; Rank C
Magic Resistance; Rank B
Personal Skills:
Clairvoyance; Rank B+
Divinity; Rank D
Attacks:
Light Attack;
Heavy Attack;
Melee;
Appearance:
Archer is a tall, thin woman with fair skin that sports a perpetual tan, auburn hair with a heavy dose of red that hang, untamed to her hips, and dull brown eyes. Her day-to-day garb is commonly that of a market-dweller of her time, however, she's known to wear more modern clothing, if ordered. Her armor is a system of wall-craft silver-coated iron that afford decent protection without negating her overall agility.
Personality:
Archer is two women in one form, better known as split-personality. The first woman is a simple woman, a bastard daughter, and abandoned child. Raised to be an innocent, and notably an air-headed ditz with few talents, and fewer real life skills. The second woman is a fabled warrior; the blood-thirsty, unnaturally accurate archer that slays her greatest of foes with but a single arrow.
To balance this even mixture of carefree and carnage, Archer shifts personalities balance on her adrenaline level; the more and longer the adrenaline pumping, the stronger and more controlling the darker personality becomes, and vice versa.
Bio:
Noble Phantasm: |
54,489 | 1,484 | 50 | 1,840 | 1,218 | Eme
Eme pauses, watching the two converse, she begins to process what she's about to say, before she opens her mouth again "Uh, there's food on the table for you right now, and a room all made up, there really isn't any need to be so brash." she half-begs, motioning to the table, where four little heads are enjoying their meal, clattering around their respective plates and bowls, and consuming the breakfast Eme had made for them. Eme hastily walks over to the table, pulling out a pair of chairs for the apparent sibling pair with a desperate smile "Stay a little while longer, you look hungry." she reasons, gently patting the seats "Hmmm?" the Germanic woman says, letting out a nervous chuckle. All around the Master Servant pair are magical trinkets, cabinets stacked full of various seals, sealed chests, sealed masks, not to mention magical weapons of old. It seems they've been haphazardly hidden behind many means of dusty heir looms and fine China, just barely making their appearance against the deeply contrasting clutter around them.
The food's pungent scent seems to have filled the house now, wafting to Haas and Archer, and enticing them to sit and eat, and enjoy the meal that's splayed in front of them with such diligence and fervor. "I'll get some orange juice too, and some milk!" she exclaims, rushing into the kitchen. "Foreigners like orange juice, right?" Eme pops her head out from the kitchen, glancing at Haas "Right?" | NAME: The Executioner
Character Type: Agent of the Holy Church
Languages: English, German, Latin, Spanish, Russian, and Greek
Affiliation: The Eighth Holy Sacrament
Height: 5’8
Weight: 172 Pounds
Place of Origin: Vatican City
Bio: ‘The Executioner’, also known as the ‘Ashen Mandrake’, and in the mercenary world, the ‘Man of a Million Guns’ is an infamously powerful Sealer equipped with a Reality Marble that was gifted to him upon his eighteenth birthday by his trainer, whose identity remains anonymous to this day. The Executioner went through years of rigorous training to fight powerful familiars and even more powerful mages, from his sixth birthday on May 1st, 1987, all the way to his sixteenth, he lived a life that not only sculpted him, but other children without a normal life ahead of themselves into perfect hands of God’s will, with varying success; agents of destruction trained to use magic to fight magic. Many an enemy has fallen to the Executioner, and it is known amongst magi, and other church officials, not to cross the White Wolf due to his unusual set of skills, his training is diverse, covering both fields of mana manipulation, and weaponcraft; his cherished Reality Marble allows him to be well equipped in any situation, due to its ability to provide for him seemingly infinite weapons, and ammunition to match.
Many first-hand accounts of the Executioner are fantastic at best, ranging from him summoning a silenced pistol, all the way to an Artillery Cannon to fight varying foes. One of his much less intimidating weapons, but powerful all the same is a long barrel Flintlock rifle from an unknown Era; which allows him to mix magical elements together in one projectile through loading both prana charged gunpowder into the weapon, and a prana charged projectile. This garners mixed results, but are devastating all the same, and to top it off, it’s said he has the ability to summon a familiar that he can fire from his rifle, which he can guide in the air to hit a target with armor penetrating force multiple times. Of course, none of these tall tales are considered true, mostly out of how preposterous they may seem, coming from a Church Executioner.
Personality: The Executioner is a surprisingly casual man who often relaxes in his free time under a multitude of aliases that seem to change every hour of the day. Out of combat he’s often out-going, and cheery, but in combat his tempered professionalism reveals itself, the Executioner often can take many a devastating blow, and survive every onslaught without changing his blank, wide eyed stare.
Bloodline: Unknown
Blood Type: B+ |
54,490 | 1,484 | 51 | 2,428 | 4,480 | Haas smiled at the woman's offer of a room, more focused on food, at the moment though. "Thank you very much ma'am. We appreciate the offer, but I think we're going to leave once we pay for our meal. And, Holland isn't really all that foreign." he says, trying to take a somewhat joking tone on the last bit. Barely looking around the room, Haas seems to only now realize they were in the midst of a magus, likely a retired one, given the young children. Retaining his smile, Haas took his seat, beckoning for Archer to sit beside him as he smelled the food. "If this food's as good as it smells, we might just stay here for the week, ma'am."
Taking the first bite of his breakfast, Haas' eyes went wide, his face one of elation before he started rapidly devouring whatever was on his plate. Finishing after he scarfed it all down, Haas bumped his fist against his chest twice and gave a content smile. "Thank you for the meal, it was delicious." he said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and asking: "How much do we owe?" | Name: Haas Mesman
Character Type: Master of Archer
Languages: Dutch, English, Spanish, Latin
Affiliation: Mage's Association, Mesman Family
Height: 6ft.
Weight: 168lbs.
Place of Origin: Holland
Bio: Born into the rather large, yet unextraordinary magus family of the Mesman's, Haas was born prematurely, and, due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, became permanently blind in his left eye. Born to a family of Magi blacksmiths, he quickly garnered the attention of the heads of the household, due to his level of control over his magical circuits, vastly outstripping any of his kinsmen at an early age. No member of the Mesmans had ever truly been talented at magic, but the birth of a true Magus in the family was certainly something they were excited about.
Groomed from age 6 to inherit the reigns of the not-so-lofty household, Haas received the same martial training his family had, and, as per tradition, forged his own weapons using naught but his bare hands and the historic Mesman Forge. Crafting a simple pair of two steel tonfas, he received his martial training, in addition to being tutored in the more practical uses of Thaumatergy, he did fairly well with learning the arts of Witchcraft, curses and boons coming easily to him. Realizing just how blessed he was with his knack for Magecraft, he started to look at life differently, going from a spoiled, pompous child to an accepting young man, willing to believe that anyone can come from anything. The lowest of the low can be born of the highest of the high, and vice versa. Maturing into a man, Haas inherited the title of heir to the house after defeating the previous head in a contest of martial prowess, ending the duel without being hit once.
Until recently, he had done freelance work for the Mage's Association, and has absolutely no idea why he of all people would be selected as a candidate to become a Master. But, then again, he supposed that was just his kinda like.
Personality: Mesman is odd for a man of the Mage's Association, given that he has actively tried to uphold the values of the common man. One who values the virtues of the common man, as well as the truths sought by the Magi, he is a humble man, often valuing someone more for their character rather than their name, and considers Thaumatergy the stuff of miracles.
Bloodline: Mesman
Blood Type: O |
54,491 | 1,484 | 52 | 1,505 | 3,125 | Archer tapped her foot, polishing off her meal rather slowly; feigning casualness, so she could better inspect the devices and items of clear, magical make. Now, she truly wanted to be gone; nerves edging on combat, the darkness creeping into her eyes and soul. Haas finished his meal swift, and she hardly at all. "Hurry. I wish to tarry no longer," she urges. If this was the domicile of a Magus, then she must has been one of great strength - or perhaps, considerable luck - to have survived or have never been chosen. However, perhaps she was chosen, and her Servant hung out of sight; or, worse still, she was aligned with Mandrake, and could be set against them. Rubbing her cheeks, Archer attempted to stay in control, stay in cover. "After all, we've much to do and see, Brother," she smiles brightly, "and, places to be."
"Even if this meal is rather delightful..." | NAME:
Rika Tohsaka
Character Type:
Magus, Human Master
Languages:
German, Japanese, Latin, English(bad English xD)
Affiliation:
Clocktower
Tohsaka Family
Height: 5'6 ft
Weight: 56 kg
Place of Origin: Japan
Bio:
Born from one of the big three families famed for the Holy Grail War. Rika is a Tohsaka raised in London and spent majority of her time in Fuyuki City honing her skills under the tutelage of her Clocktower Magus superior and this helped her, getting to know more about her birth country but still it doesn't excuse her for training and preparing for the holy grail war. She was in fact just a candidate and upon certain circumstances, she was chosen to participate for it in spite of her reluctance to do so.
Unlike her predecessors who are keen on the war, she is halfhearted about it and keeps things to herself. It is stated by her superior that she is boring to teach due to how fast she progresses and the fact of her reluctant nature about lacking initiative and manners as noted she doesn't use honorifics to address her elders.
Last of the last. There are only two reasons why she joined the grail war. First is just because she represents her family and out of her whim and second is her wish that have yet to be revealed.
Personality:
Rika is generally aloof and reluctant to acknowledge certain people, but she's not above commending them when they truly deserve it. Despite this, she is still kind but not the type to be open about it rather it is bittersweet approach but of course, she deeply cares for her family and comrades. She is also opportunistic and wastes no time to get what she wants but has no guts to kill people and in this sixth war, she has no interest in killing masters but if it holds her back, she will play foul by using extreme methods such as cutting off a master's arm, blackmailing, and involving innocent family memberfamilys of the opposite side.
Bloodline: Tohsaka
Blood Type: O+
Notes:
She is born in Japan, raised in London since birth and at the age of 6 she is sent back to Japan and spent 10 years training for the Holy Grail War, she is 16 years old.
She is not blood related to Rin Tohsaka. The only resemblance that makes her a Tohsaka is her green eyes and dark brown hair, up to eleven her mannerisms. What makes her different is her preference of servants because she is not using an Archer.
Her combat style is Shao Lin and Taekwondo for she revels on kicking power. This is taught by her superior during the course of 10 years.
She was one of the candidates of her family for the war. At first she wasn't chosen but under certain circumstances, she was chosen to take part and replaced the former Tohsaka member.
Naturally, she is born with 30 magic circuits and dons Tohsaka Tokiomi's Flame Magecraft with the jewels attached to her gloves. Her family's jewelry magic is unison with her fire attribute. She is skilled with her family's jewel magic. |
54,492 | 1,484 | 53 | 1,505 | 3,125 | Ignore. | NAME:
Rika Tohsaka
Character Type:
Magus, Human Master
Languages:
German, Japanese, Latin, English(bad English xD)
Affiliation:
Clocktower
Tohsaka Family
Height: 5'6 ft
Weight: 56 kg
Place of Origin: Japan
Bio:
Born from one of the big three families famed for the Holy Grail War. Rika is a Tohsaka raised in London and spent majority of her time in Fuyuki City honing her skills under the tutelage of her Clocktower Magus superior and this helped her, getting to know more about her birth country but still it doesn't excuse her for training and preparing for the holy grail war. She was in fact just a candidate and upon certain circumstances, she was chosen to participate for it in spite of her reluctance to do so.
Unlike her predecessors who are keen on the war, she is halfhearted about it and keeps things to herself. It is stated by her superior that she is boring to teach due to how fast she progresses and the fact of her reluctant nature about lacking initiative and manners as noted she doesn't use honorifics to address her elders.
Last of the last. There are only two reasons why she joined the grail war. First is just because she represents her family and out of her whim and second is her wish that have yet to be revealed.
Personality:
Rika is generally aloof and reluctant to acknowledge certain people, but she's not above commending them when they truly deserve it. Despite this, she is still kind but not the type to be open about it rather it is bittersweet approach but of course, she deeply cares for her family and comrades. She is also opportunistic and wastes no time to get what she wants but has no guts to kill people and in this sixth war, she has no interest in killing masters but if it holds her back, she will play foul by using extreme methods such as cutting off a master's arm, blackmailing, and involving innocent family memberfamilys of the opposite side.
Bloodline: Tohsaka
Blood Type: O+
Notes:
She is born in Japan, raised in London since birth and at the age of 6 she is sent back to Japan and spent 10 years training for the Holy Grail War, she is 16 years old.
She is not blood related to Rin Tohsaka. The only resemblance that makes her a Tohsaka is her green eyes and dark brown hair, up to eleven her mannerisms. What makes her different is her preference of servants because she is not using an Archer.
Her combat style is Shao Lin and Taekwondo for she revels on kicking power. This is taught by her superior during the course of 10 years.
She was one of the candidates of her family for the war. At first she wasn't chosen but under certain circumstances, she was chosen to take part and replaced the former Tohsaka member.
Naturally, she is born with 30 magic circuits and dons Tohsaka Tokiomi's Flame Magecraft with the jewels attached to her gloves. Her family's jewelry magic is unison with her fire attribute. She is skilled with her family's jewel magic. |
54,493 | 1,484 | 54 | 663 | 47 | One hand holding her chin, and the other supporting the opposite arm’s elbow, Janiyah nodded at Assassin as he spoke. She looked upwards, pondering the questions that he had. How should they treat the other Servants and Masters? Her thoughts were interrupted when she recalled the last thing that her partner said. “Oh, yeah. Here.” She held out her hand to him, unwrapping the bandages down to her palm.”
Assassin takes the bleeding palm and presses his to the the open wound and only small slithering noise can be heard as he holds his hand to his masters’. He lifts his hand and the wound is absent, without even a scar left behind.”There we go, all better. Now, any other wounds, discomforts, or malignant cysts?”, Assassin looks at Jin with his head cocked to the side.
“Discomforts? ...None that I think you can help with.” She smiled lightly, taking her hand back and flexing it as she stared at her palm. Afterwards, she ran her fingers over the Command Seals on the back of her hand. “At any rate! Strategy, shelter, and food. Those are the things that we really need to get onto right now.” The young Master began to collect leaves and all manner of sticks and wood into a large pile.
“To answer your question,” She began, leaning over to collect a few twigs. “I think we should attempt to avoid conflict until we’re sure that we can defeat someone. If we’re gonna enter an alliance with someone, I think it should be Lancer or Berserker’s Masters. The only issue is figuring out HOW we’re gonna do that.”
“Yes, it would be foolish to just approach the master of berserker and ask for an alliance. Perhaps we should send a message through other means; perhaps I could go by myself and present them with a letter in order to make sure you are not hurt. I can survive a beating and make it out with my life, I am very durable! And if luck would have it, persuasive as well.”
“But on top of that, should we even attempt to ally with her? She could be traitorous and back-stab us when she gets the chance.” Janiyah put her hand on the opposite arm’s shoulder and rubbed. “Can we afford the risk?”
“Whether or not we can afford the risk will be left up to you to decide. We can never trust anyone for long, if our alliance becomes the only one remaining we will be forced to fight.” Schnabel looks at a nearby fallen tree and touches the bark to test for resistance.”Come here master, I need to utilize your sense of touch, does this tree feel wet to you?”
Janiyah nodded, but said nothing. She then walked over to Assassin and felt the bark of the tree with her palm and the back of her hand. “Hmm. It’s moist, but it doesn’t feel like it’s drenched or anything.”
“Then it can be fodder for our fire! We must be careful as to use it quickly and run from it if we are to avoid other servants.” Assassin takes the large trunk and quickly breaks off any long limbs that would make it cumbersome to walk with, lifts it up and holds it under his armpit, and walks towards the pile of leaves and sticks his master had amassed
“Of course.” Janiyah nodded to her assistant and began to tap her chin as she thought about the best method of gathering food. At least a decent amount was going to be needed if they were to stay out in the forest. I honestly doubt hunting and foraging will get us very far. Hmm. If there’s a town nearby, there must be a grocery store of some sort near. But all I have on me are francs.. She hmmed and continued her train of thought.
“I think I can help with that, allow me some time to return and I can collect some sustenance for you. Do I have your permission?”Assassin half bows in front of Janiyah and stays in that position.
“Go right on ahead.” Janiyah gestures outward to the forest.
Assassin rises to his full height in response to the “Go ahead” and looks around the forest for anything that could house any possible prey, he smells the air and immediately leans forward into a light run towards a fallen tree supported by a stronger and healthier tree. Assassin stops before the tree and looks up at the point where the fallen tree is held up by the currently standing one and reaches up to the intersection pulling out 3 eggs from the mass of sticks and leaves. The mother returns to the dark green monster pillaging her unborn children. From the perspective of the bird she must fight or lose her entire brood, so it dives screaming it’s loudest as it rapidly closes the distance between herself and the green behemoth, but that was a mistake that will cost the mother her life. Assassin kills the mother before the animal realized it was dead, pinching its’ head off while she was still airborne. Assassin looks at the collection of potential food in his hand and places it in the satchel connected to the thick black leather belt fastened tight against his waist. He walks around the trees and sniffs out for more potential food, leaving his master to herself.
After watching Assassin run off into the forest in search of food, Janiyah decided that the best thing to do with her time would be to form some sort of decent shelter. Even if it was only made from sticks and leaves. She began to line several large-ish twigs together and laid her hands onto them, her eyes clothing and breath becoming more and more audible. After a few seconds, she withdrew her hands. “Mmm. It’ll work.” She pulled a paracord bracelet from a gap between her bandages and her right thigh and began to undo its tightly woven knots to tie together the twigs she’d (hopefully) reinforced. Her fingers deftly went back and forth, weaving the cord around one stick and then to the next. As Janiyah’s hands went into autopilot, her thoughts drifted every which way.
Right after Janiyah’s impromptu tent is finished Assassin returns to the camp dripping with water, and with a handful of dead animals each, and kneels down next to the pile of wood previously gather for the fire and sets the animals down and the pulls another pile of various animal corpses out of his satchel. “What do you fancy? I have many types of songbird, and some small mammalian creatures, and even some beaver. Do you have a preference to what you want to eat first?” Assassin asks his master whilst beginning to skin the biggest of the family of beavers he has in the pile in front of him.
She tapped her chin. “Hmm. Bird is fine with me.”
“Excellent choice, young master!” Assassin says while picking up three birds with differing colors of feathers, before plucking them in mass and preparing the birds to be cooked upon open fire. Assassin, places the plucked birds in a line before looking for sticks to place them on. After making a small teepee of stick with the that being filled with dry leaves and above that tent even more, slightly thicker sticks, assassin kneels before his creation and whispers “Brennen”, and with wave of his hand the whole thing bursts in flames burning brilliantly. Assassin begins packing thicker logs on top of the burning pile and watches as the fire starts growing. Assassin then places the impaled birds in the fire and begins to cook the soon to be food for his master.
The young Master sits on the ground, playing about with the bandages on her left hand as she stares into the flames that Assassin had brought forth. “So you said previously that you were confused as to why you became an Assassin class, yes? I’m quite confused myself, what with your past occupation was.” She looked towards her Servant, planting both of her hands firmly on the ground behind her and pushing her legs out to get into a semi-lounging position.
“Ah yes, have you already guessed which Heroic Spirit I am? If that is true then I fear that the other masters may have guessed it too.” | Master: Haas Mesman
True Name:
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5' 7'', and a Lady never tells
Alignment: VERY Chaotic and Notably Good
Strength: B+
Endurance: A
Agility: B+
Prana: C
Luck: C
Class Abilities:
Independent Action; Rank C
Magic Resistance; Rank B
Personal Skills:
Clairvoyance; Rank B+
Divinity; Rank D
Attacks:
Light Attack;
Heavy Attack;
Melee;
Appearance:
Archer is a tall, thin woman with fair skin that sports a perpetual tan, auburn hair with a heavy dose of red that hang, untamed to her hips, and dull brown eyes. Her day-to-day garb is commonly that of a market-dweller of her time, however, she's known to wear more modern clothing, if ordered. Her armor is a system of wall-craft silver-coated iron that afford decent protection without negating her overall agility.
Personality:
Archer is two women in one form, better known as split-personality. The first woman is a simple woman, a bastard daughter, and abandoned child. Raised to be an innocent, and notably an air-headed ditz with few talents, and fewer real life skills. The second woman is a fabled warrior; the blood-thirsty, unnaturally accurate archer that slays her greatest of foes with but a single arrow.
To balance this even mixture of carefree and carnage, Archer shifts personalities balance on her adrenaline level; the more and longer the adrenaline pumping, the stronger and more controlling the darker personality becomes, and vice versa.
Bio:
Noble Phantasm: |
54,494 | 1,485 | 0 | 157 | 3,054 | UNSC Cruiser The Long Way Home Hangar bay
Captain Sam Lasko sighed and pulled off his helmet waiting for the pelicans to arrive with his new squad, it would be his first fight since Reach and he aimed to pay the bastards back for every life lost there twofold. He had been briefed, they would be moving in to secure a ONI package, he read up on his squad, Admiral Harper had even let him see the black ink, he knew what he about to step into and he also knew whose secrets he had to keep. This mission had to be a success no matter the cost, we needed a win more than anything. After the incident with Bucks squad... Well just hoped they made it back without a causality like they did. He heard the hangar bay alarm sound, he stepped up greet the new squad, finally put faces to names.
UNSC Cruiser The Long Way Home Fleet Admiral Harper's office
Fleet Admiral Harper sighed then looked back up the monitor "I dug up the files on the troops you asked to brought in, most of them have ONI connections."
The ONI operative on the other end smiled. "Yes we needed trusted assets on board for this OP, you know what that package is worth."
Harper groaned "Yes I know, that why I'm not denying the operation, you'll get your way for now. Just know that I showed the good Captain everything I have on them" He smiled, that would get under the spooks skin.
With that the ONI agent frowned "That information was classified, you can't-" The admiral however cut him off.
"I am a Fleet Admiral Of UNSC Navy, only Lord Hood tells me what I can't do, do I make myself clear!" With that Spook growled and cut the line. Harper leaned back pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a shot. "I should be giving one these to Lasko, he's the one about to try and lead this group." He said laughing a little he tipped back the shot before getting up and heading for the bridge. | Name:Sam Lasko
Rank: Captain
Specialization: Commando/Assault
Appearance:
Personal psych report: Captain Lasko was once described "As the most honest and decent officer in the core." By Gunnery Sergeant Buck. Sam has shown to stay cheerful even in bad situations however he has been known to get attached to the men under his command effecting his judgement. However because of this troops under his command often complete there with less causalities than those under other other officers. Off duty records show that many of the soldiers regard him highly however they never see him in the mess. Some speculate that the young captain is a virgin as he is career military and is almost never seen socializing, currently there is betting pool as to find out whether he is or not, standing at around 5000 credits winner take all.
.
Career history: ( Not doing timeline because PC crashed right after I finished and I really don't feel like doing it... again. Sorry.)
Born on Harvest three years before the Covenant war began he escaped with others during the evacuation. However his parents did not survive the assault on Harvest. Having no family he was given to a orphanage on Luna growing up there he studied hard and shortly after his 18th birthday he was accepted in to the Luna OCS Academy. Training hard topping the class in Zero-G combat and ground missions, he received a invitation to join 82nd Airborne Pathfinders as a 1st Lieutenant. Four years later he joined the defense at New Llanelli he would survive bringing home not only his entire squad but two others as well after capturing a phantom class drop-ship and bringing it back to the escaping UNSC fleet. This incredible feat earned him not only a promotion but the Medal Of Honor. He would later transfer to the ODST's after that battle, he would go on to fight at Reach helping secure high ranking personal and evacuating them. His time as Pathfinder means he does have jet-pack training and can fly with the best of them, he would use this training as well as a new model jump pack to carry civilians safety to the evac platform above while his squad fought off the brutes raiding the city during the Fall Of Reach. He would then be stationed at Earth on board the UNSC cruiser "The Long Way Home" preparing to meet the troops he has just been reassigned to before the drop on Mars to re-take a ONI building and secure precious cargo. Has additionally requested that 30 extra pods be dropped containing weapons, supplies, and mongoose's for his squad to use to once they touch down and to take some of the flak as they drop.
Weapons:
MA5C Assault Rifle
M7S Submachine Gun
M6C/SOCOM "Automag"
Lasko does not wear standard ODST armor instead wearing Air Assault armor preferring it to standard kit as he can since sync it to satellites for live mapping and telemetry.
(Trading out grenades for a pistol giving him a extra weapon work with but a severe lack of explosives.)
Black ink: None. |
54,495 | 1,485 | 1 | 788 | 291 | As the fog cleared from the mirror Kensi almost didn't recognize the face staring back at her. She almost appeared to have aged a whole decade in the last few days. Worry lines creased her forehead, and her wet golden locks that were currently pasted it her face made the paleness of her skin stand out harshly. This war was murder on the woman. If only she'd died back on Reach with the rest of her squad. Mathers was never much of a religious person, but she figured any afterlife had to be better then this one. Kensi swiped more of the foggy vapor from the mirror and examined the rest of her body. Thirty-one years old. A full two thirds of her life had known only this bloody war. Leaving its marks on her body like a living history book. The newest, shrapnel scars along her right flank, were a reminder of Reach.
It was no use reflecting on the past. She had no past. Each day was new, yesterday and their memories forcefully removed from her mind like a virus. She had no need for them. They only served to muck up the present. The same for the future, she couldn't take her eyes off the mission before her for something that may not ever be. She finally snapped her eyes from the mirror, turning away from it as she ran the towel through her hair. All the while her mind was now running through the inventory within. 1 BR55 Battle Rifle, 4 magazines of 9.5x40mm rounds. 1 M6C/SOCOM sidearm, 5 magazines of 12.7x40mm rounds. 2 M168 Demo charges. 2 Frag Grenades. The demo charges weren't her standard issue. Then again they were going into Covenant controlled areas. Bringing down a building or two would be necessary.
With the charges secured in the rucksack portion of her armor Kensi pulled the chest piece and and finished fastening it to her body. She rotated her shoulders a few times to back sure the fit wasn't to tight. Part of her was a little nervous. This would be her first real jump since Reach. Two months of hospitals and physical therapy. Two months to wallow on the mistakes she made then. She couldn't continue to let that effect her. Kensi shook the thoughts from her head as she slammed her locker shut and turned for the exit. There is no past, no future. There is only now, and how many covies I can blow to hell. | Name: Kensi Mathers
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Specialization: EOD
Appearance: See Picture
Personal psych report: Kensi possesses a no nonsense attitude towards many of her fellow soldiers, a personality that has gain her the moniker Ice Queen. One of the few to have lived to see the glassing of her homeworld, Arcadia, Kensi sees sentimentality as detriment to this war. As such she lacks anything to call home, or a reminder of her past. Focusing only on the death of the covenant at any cost.
Career history:
7/22/2521 - Born on Arcadia
3/14/2526 - Father died during the Insurrection actions on Arcadia
2/9/2531 - Fled Arcadia with mother during the first Covenant Assault
7/22/2539 - Joined the UNSC Marine Corps
10/30/2539 - Completed Basic Training, specializing in Explosive Ordnance Disposal
3/6/2543 - Participated in the Battle of 18 Scorpii
5/10/2545 - Assigned to 53rd Armor Division during the Battle of Actium
7/3/2545 - Assigned to Operation: TORPEDO, providing support to the Spartans of Beta Company
7/7/2545 - Promoted to Master Sergeant for her actions on Pegasi Delta
7/10/2545 - Court Martial and demoted to Private for assaulting an officer when news reached her that her entire squad would not be reformed after their massive losses during the operation
1/22/2548 - Requisitioned by ONI for several high level missions. Is promoted to Sergeant.
9/9/2549 - Returns to Arcadia for ONI, to research the reasons behind the Covenant attack 18 years prior, and their subsequent reluctance to return. During this time a Covenant fleet returned, leading to the fall of Arcadia. Kensi was able to help lead civilians to evacuate, and hold off Covenant ground forces before escaping. The glassing of her homeworld however left their psychological scars.
5/19/2551 - Was discharged from ONI operations after it was determined her mental fortitude had been shattered on Arcadia
3/1/2552 - Reenlisted at the urging of allies in ONI, joining the ODST with glowing recommendations. All prior work with ONI was officially redacted.
8/6/2552 - Participated in the Battle of Reach. Was evacuated shortly before the fall to receive medical treatment.
10/8/2552 - Cleared to return to duty, assigned to Earth just prior to the Covenant Invasion
Weapons:
- BR55 Battle Rifle
- M6C/SOCOM Sidearm
- M168 Demolition Charges
Black ink: Prior ONI connections. Is still considered an ONI asset. Sometimes receives secondary mission parameters by ONI. Has been ordered to obtain sensitive Division Three data stored on Mars Base, and to destroy the lower facility at all costs. |
54,496 | 1,485 | 2 | 846 | 1,784 | Specialist Pella had cleaned -and re-cleaned- his weapons, making sure the grenade-launcher had fit snug under the barrel of his battle-rifle, even going so far as to get the EB-Green out and giving it a few more wraps. The scope was also quickly double-checked for zero with a boresight-indicator, and the smartlink on his M7S recalibrated. Only after being absolutely sure of a good weapons-fit did he lock his rifle back onto the wall-mount and holster his sidearm.
He was the youngest, and had since basic learned to at least try and keep his mouth shut, especially whenever he 'thought' he recognized someone of higher rank from previous missions. The only exception being Lance Corporal Björkgård, Anders. They were only Privates back on Arcadia, but their actions both resulted in promotions, of sorts. And then there was Jennifer, big girl, supposedly had been an ODST since forever based on her rank, but never heard of a single combat-drop she ever partook in. Definitely a spook, or a spook-puppet.
Then there was their CO, an Army-grunt with ODST-certification and a chip on his shoulder going by the name of Lasky. Being the planet's 'bucket brigade' to put down fire-fights meant that this was going to be a mostly-army affair, allowing them greater free-use of pelicans rather than HEVs and trying to hitch-hike their way out. However, Pelicans were deathtraps. So he made sure to bring a parachute. | Name: Dorian Pella
Rank: Specialist 1st class
Specialization: Grenadier
Personal psych report: Totally not claustrophobic, a bit 'free-spirited', will continue sending on raids and monitor progress.
Career history:
2525 - Born on Madrigal Colony
2528 - Madrigal is glassed
2535 - Battle of the Rubble. 23 Librea
2536 - UNSC JROTC (Punitive measure)
2542 - Transferred to UNSCDF
2543 - Transferred to ODST
2544 - Training complete in ODST as grenadier, minored in sabotage
2545 - Failed Rescue mission of Draco III, sent back for re-evaluation aboard UNSC Chares
2546 - Battle of Sargasso, demoted and transferred
2547 - Battle of Skopje, re-evaluated again, screened for Boren's disease (tested negative).
2549 - Arcadia falls, promoted to specialist
2552 - Battle of Mare Erythraeum, Mars
Weapons: BR55 SR with under-slung M319 grenade-launcher (<--- Lots of EB Green was used); M7S SMG, two M9 grenades, 1 can of C-7 explosive-foam.
Note: BR85HB SR was a Halo 4 weapon. |
54,497 | 1,485 | 3 | 1,404 | 5,010 | Sergeant Lee Mcgarren was on his way to the The Long Way Home Hangar bay in a Pelican filled with other solders who he assumed were here for the same thing. Well that's is what he thought, he was here to join and squad of ODST, who were going to work under Captain Lasko. Unfortunately Lee did not know what exactly they were here to do yet, he assumed that he would be briefed when they landed.
He raked his hand through his blonde hair, thinking about what he endured to get to this point in his life, the Insurrection that ripped his family apart, the battles that he went through, surviving while his comrades died, the glassing of his home planet, and now he was here, in a Pelican on his way to meet the new people he would be working with.
Not long after that the Pelican landed, making sure he had taken everything he needed, he fixed his armor, and did hair his hair, you did not want to make your first impression a bad one. Once Lee was ready, he exited the Pelican, walking into the bright light of the Hanger. | Name: Lee Mcgarren
Rank: Sergeant
Specialization: CQC
Appearance:
Personal psych report: Lee has a crazy but kind sense of humor. Sometimes, his jokes are hurtful but he doesn't mean it that way. He get's defensive over sore spots but is all very loyal and trustworthy towards his friends. His sarcasm is hilarious and everything about him is comical and funny. He can be serious when he wants to, especially when people threaten things he loves.
Career history:
6/14/2520- Born in Lemuria, Arcadia
2/26/2526- Father and brother joins the Insurrectionist
2/9/2531- Fled with sister and mother from Arcadia during the Covenant invasion, leaving behind father and brother
12/25/2539- Joins the UNSC Marine Corps
2/14/2540- Completes basic training for CQC, chooses to go on to advanced training
5/2/2545- Participated in the Battle of Actium
10/6/2547- Court Martial for knowing the were abouts is former Insurrectionists and with holding information
8/5/2549-Requisitioned by Sergeant Avery Junior Johnson to participate in Siege of Paris IV
1/8/2552- Participated in Operation: FIRESIDE
9/11/2552- Given vacation, went and stayed on earth prior to the Invasion
Weapons:
-BR85HB SR Battle Rifle
-M90 Close Assault Weapon System
-Flashbang grenade |
54,498 | 1,485 | 4 | 1,187 | 68 | Lance Corporal Anders Björkgård sat in a corner in the Pelican with his helmet in his lap. Under his seat, his Sniper Rifle was secured in a green weapon box, already calibrated, cleaned and ready for use. He watched as Pella made sure his weapons were in order before placing them back where they should be. He remembered the man from Arcadia, didn't know him though. He waited for Pella to finish what he was doing before he spoke. "You didn't check your weapons beforehand?" he asked and expected it was a habit, something Pella spent time on to stay calm or something along those lines, but without asking, one could never be sure.
Anders was however, not as calm as he usually was. He had not been briefed yet, and he wanted information, he wanted to know what they were throwing him into. He got the name of the Captain as he was reassigned, but 'Captain Sam Lasko' told him nothing. Though to be fair, he was happy about getting back into action. There were scum, that were waiting for an order to be shipped and delivered. Bullets to be shipped to one address, 'Between their eyes'. Elites, brutes, grunts and of course, Jackals. Of course, they had to wait a bit longer, and so did he. | Name: Anders Björkgård
Rank: Lance Corporal
Specialization: Sniper
Personal psych report: A calm and patient person even under stressful situations. He has a deep hatred of Jackals and will go out of his way to kill them, even if it puts himself and others in danger. Other then that, he is usually quiet though he speaks when he disagrees.
Career history: (Quite brief)
5/4/2523 - Born on Earth.
3/11/2542 - Joins the UNSC Marines together with his brother.
1/1/2549 - Sent to Arcadia.
9/9/2549 - Took part in the defence of evacuation crafts during the fall of Arcadia. He watched his brother die by a Jackal sniper. Was evacuated with other soldiers and civilians.
11/9/2549 - Promoted to Private First Class.
2550 - Joins the ODST's and completes training and tests for being a Sniper.
17/6/2552 - Takes part in the Battle of Sigma Octanus IV.
1/9/2552 - Reassigned to the Sol System and promoted to Lance Corporal.
Weapons: Sniper Rifle(SRS99D-S2 Anti-Matériel). M6C/SOCOM Pistol. Two fragmentation grenades. Also carrying a medkit.
Black ink: - |
54,499 | 1,485 | 5 | 1,970 | 1,259 | Jennifer missed her MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor. At least she was able to keep her UGPS & TACPAD, over the years she customized and upgraded them to her liking. The Recon variant of the ODST battle armor was the closest equivalent to her MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor, she wanted to combine aspects of the Recon with the Close Quarters but she didn't have the time to adequately determine which pieces would best serve her so she went with the standard Recon painted flat black. She never could figure out why she had to pretend to be an ODST if they just gave her real information out.
When she stepped aboard the Pelican she stashed her standard loadout in a weapon box. She placed each weapon in there with precision and care, they were her best friends, her life depended on them, and she treated them with the reverence that they deserved. She strapped each one down so they would not be jostled during the flight. She took her seat and strapped herself in for the flight.
She didn't care what the mission was, she didn't care what the purpose of the mission was, she was a weapon to be pointed and unleashed. ONI had already filled her in on the specifics. She knew this mission may take awhile, and that it would most likely be suicidal to sleep on the planet after it was taken over by the Covenant so she slept as much as possible on the Pelican ride to The Long Way Home. | Name: Jennifer Antoinette Watters
Rank: First Lieutenant
Specialization: CQC, Stealth
Personal psych report:
She appears emotionally detached and resigned, as if she feels a quiet resolve about something that cannot be altered. She masks the countenance of the classic "poker-face," making her difficult to read by friends, family, and co-workers. In fact, her face looks like a mask, long-drawn as if weighted by the gravity of her burdens. When her eyes are not frustratingly impassive, they can appear, in a poetic sense, like dark chasms that act as reservoirs for the failures, disappointments, and losses of humanity. Her gaze you may see the flickering images of what the whole of mankind has endured in the universe.
The first rule in getting along with the Jennifer is to honor her natural penchant for being quiet and taciturn. Indeed, her detached and deadpan delivery can lend an inscrutable air to her mannerisms but their willingness to stand unruffled against the bustle of life can also be a source of serenity to those around her. Learn to enjoy this silence as a tranquil truce with the incessant fury of a clamorous world.
She is a person of few words, and never wants to belabor a point; she favors direct communication that cuts to the chase without unnecessary tangents or verbal flourishes. A simple thumbs up or down will often suffice when communicating with her.
Career history:
2/17/2511 - Born on Earth
2/18/2528 - Parents murdered by Insurrectionists
2/17/2529 - Joined the UNSC Marine Corps
5/26/2529 - Completed Basic Training, specializing in CQC & Stealth
4/2/2533 - Joined the UNSC Marine Corps Special Forces unit Force Recon
5/2/2533 - Finished Force Recon training
7/7/2535 - Requisitioned by ONI
8/1/2542 - Resigned from ONI
8/20/2542 - Joined the UNSC Marine Corps Special Forces unit ODST
9/20/2542 - Finished ODST basic training
Weapons: MA5B Individual Combat Weapon System (suppressed) with underslung shotgun, M7S Submachine Gun, & M6C/SOCOM
Black ink: Jennifer's entire official history and name is a farce created by ONI to cover up the true history of their agent.
2/17/2511 - Jennifer Abigail Watson born on Reach
9/23/2517 - Conscripted into the Spartan-II Program by Katherine Halsey. Became Jennifer-090
9/24/2517 - Began Spartan-II training
1/1/2020 - Participated in Operation: TREBUCHET
2/3/2525 - Requisitioned by ONI, death faked by ONI
8/1/2552 - Began ODST training provided by ONI
10/1/2552 - Finished ODST training
10/2/2552 - Inserted into an ODST squad under the name Jennifer Antoinette Watters |
54,500 | 1,485 | 6 | 846 | 1,784 | Dorian answered by pointing at the large round protrusion at the bottom of his rifle, indicating the custom-mounted grenade-launcher; "Can never be sure nobody fiddles with it if I so much as turn my back to it, and with explosive ordnance like that, you HAVE to be sure." He snarked while noting that Lt Watters had a similar mount; but being a scattergun, friendly-fire wasn't of nearly as much concern for her, but all the same she treated those tools like they were her babies; very big deadly babies.
Being low-man on the totem-pole had the perk of not really needing to plan something more than a few clicks ahead of himself, then worry about contingency plans, and then have the nervous-breakdown of all of those plans going to hell in a handbasket within five minutes of a drop. He just had to make sure he was smarter and faster than a covvie grunt when his time came. | Name: Dorian Pella
Rank: Specialist 1st class
Specialization: Grenadier
Personal psych report: Totally not claustrophobic, a bit 'free-spirited', will continue sending on raids and monitor progress.
Career history:
2525 - Born on Madrigal Colony
2528 - Madrigal is glassed
2535 - Battle of the Rubble. 23 Librea
2536 - UNSC JROTC (Punitive measure)
2542 - Transferred to UNSCDF
2543 - Transferred to ODST
2544 - Training complete in ODST as grenadier, minored in sabotage
2545 - Failed Rescue mission of Draco III, sent back for re-evaluation aboard UNSC Chares
2546 - Battle of Sargasso, demoted and transferred
2547 - Battle of Skopje, re-evaluated again, screened for Boren's disease (tested negative).
2549 - Arcadia falls, promoted to specialist
2552 - Battle of Mare Erythraeum, Mars
Weapons: BR55 SR with under-slung M319 grenade-launcher (<--- Lots of EB Green was used); M7S SMG, two M9 grenades, 1 can of C-7 explosive-foam.
Note: BR85HB SR was a Halo 4 weapon. |
54,501 | 1,485 | 7 | 157 | 3,054 | Lasko heard the comms in his helmet open up sliding the helmet on he spoke "This is Lasko, go ahead."
The Ships Smart AI Artemis responded in a icy almost hostile tone "Your time table is moving captain, get briefing going ASAP, also the Admiral has approved your requisition and even thrown in a bonus... A friend of mine" With that she cut the line.
"What the hell was she talking about?" He mumbled as he jogged down the hall moving to the ships undercarriage were the pods were located. He stopped opening up briefing room 3 that was just before there drop pods, he saw a AI on the holographic table going over the latest images from Mars.
She spoke in a almost to cheerful way that he knew was going to get on his nerves. "Hello Captain! I'm Spring Island, the AI Admiral Harper has assigned to assist you in this mission. Great he thought this was just getting better and better, but at least he wouldn't have to pray that old superintendent model down there wasn't rampant yet.
"Right Spring call down up all of the squad telling them to report for briefing" Lasko had already stashed his kit in his pod, but out of habit went over and began to check it. After doing a once over and re-securing the magnetic's he stepped over to the table and removed his helmet looking over there drop point on more time.
Every member of the squad heard there comms buzz and a suddenly a happy computerized voice issue's there orders. "Captain Lasko's squad please report to briefing room 3 with all gear immediately." The enthusiastic AI said giving a slight giggle at the end. | Name:Sam Lasko
Rank: Captain
Specialization: Commando/Assault
Appearance:
Personal psych report: Captain Lasko was once described "As the most honest and decent officer in the core." By Gunnery Sergeant Buck. Sam has shown to stay cheerful even in bad situations however he has been known to get attached to the men under his command effecting his judgement. However because of this troops under his command often complete there with less causalities than those under other other officers. Off duty records show that many of the soldiers regard him highly however they never see him in the mess. Some speculate that the young captain is a virgin as he is career military and is almost never seen socializing, currently there is betting pool as to find out whether he is or not, standing at around 5000 credits winner take all.
.
Career history: ( Not doing timeline because PC crashed right after I finished and I really don't feel like doing it... again. Sorry.)
Born on Harvest three years before the Covenant war began he escaped with others during the evacuation. However his parents did not survive the assault on Harvest. Having no family he was given to a orphanage on Luna growing up there he studied hard and shortly after his 18th birthday he was accepted in to the Luna OCS Academy. Training hard topping the class in Zero-G combat and ground missions, he received a invitation to join 82nd Airborne Pathfinders as a 1st Lieutenant. Four years later he joined the defense at New Llanelli he would survive bringing home not only his entire squad but two others as well after capturing a phantom class drop-ship and bringing it back to the escaping UNSC fleet. This incredible feat earned him not only a promotion but the Medal Of Honor. He would later transfer to the ODST's after that battle, he would go on to fight at Reach helping secure high ranking personal and evacuating them. His time as Pathfinder means he does have jet-pack training and can fly with the best of them, he would use this training as well as a new model jump pack to carry civilians safety to the evac platform above while his squad fought off the brutes raiding the city during the Fall Of Reach. He would then be stationed at Earth on board the UNSC cruiser "The Long Way Home" preparing to meet the troops he has just been reassigned to before the drop on Mars to re-take a ONI building and secure precious cargo. Has additionally requested that 30 extra pods be dropped containing weapons, supplies, and mongoose's for his squad to use to once they touch down and to take some of the flak as they drop.
Weapons:
MA5C Assault Rifle
M7S Submachine Gun
M6C/SOCOM "Automag"
Lasko does not wear standard ODST armor instead wearing Air Assault armor preferring it to standard kit as he can since sync it to satellites for live mapping and telemetry.
(Trading out grenades for a pistol giving him a extra weapon work with but a severe lack of explosives.)
Black ink: None. |
Subsets and Splits
No saved queries yet
Save your SQL queries to embed, download, and access them later. Queries will appear here once saved.