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8,200 | 221 | 33 | 1,522 | 1,025 | Tommy Sparks
“Plant girl? Where? Oh, over by Marl. She seems nice.” nodding with a hand on his chin as if he was a wise sage for making such an observation, Tommy took half a step towards Akemi before freezing in place before spinning back to Shuko with wide eyes as if he had just heard something horrifying.
“I-I didn’t?! Oh, wow, I am so sorry!” pulling Shuko into a bear hug, Tommy squeezed as if he could somehow push out the embarrassment, arms wrapped tight to try and convey his apology “I didn’t even realise! I have been just the worst! I am, Tommy. I should have said it immediately! I’ve had absolutely no manners for this entire conversation, gosh… I hope you can forgive me.” releasing Shuko, Tommy stood with his hands on his hips and a wry grin on his face. Shaking his head in self-derision, Tommy grabbed Shuko by the hand and dragged her over to the plant girl Akemi as was the original intention.
“How on earth did I make such a blunder? I’m usually so good with introductions. I suppose the situation got me all flustered and out of sorts, I could have sworn I’d already introduced myself, but it obviously wasn’t to you which makes it all the worse! What if my memory is going as if I’m some old guy?” rambling as he walked Tommy almost stumbled and fell as he dropped a coin to the ground and ‘pushed’ on it to catch himself looking as if his chest was resting on an invisible stick that slowly pushed him back upright.
“Whoops! That was close. I could’ve dragged you down! No one would want that, probably. I can’t really speak for everyone since, well I’m obviously not them!” arriving behind Akemi, Tommy released Shuko’s hand and a face of extreme seriousness and concentration. Nodding as if deciding something Tommy stands behind Akemi and tilts forward, letting gravity take hold as he hugs the plant girl from behind assuming it’s the front since as good as hugs are, surprise ambush hugs are more of an acquired taste.
“Hello, Miss. I’m Tommy. I wouldn’t normally just be blurting my name out like this, but I just had a rather embarrassing conversation where I failed to do so! Imagine that, giving someone a hug and them not even knowing your name? Such poor manners I had… now I’m not sure if this is rude, but Miss… you are a very comfortable to hug and smell kinda like a fresh rainforest and that is, if I may be so bold, nice. Would you like to join me and Major Admiral General Shuko in a group? That is if you haven’t already been recruited. Even then I still offer because I’m feeling rather comfortable and would love it if you’d indulge me just a tiiiiiiiiiiiiny bit longer.” Looking over Akemi’s shoulder, Tommy looked at Boro with the distinct feeling he was forgetting something.
“Oh wow, that’s right, I forgot to ask your name! I almost committed the same blunder as just earlier in reverse! That would just be awful, dreadful, and just impolite! Also, Marl! Smoking is bad for your health, you should take good care of yourself, those smokes will kill you some day! They can also make your breath stink, like that grandpa at the... pachinko... parlor...” looking over his shoulder Tommy realised he left his day profit he had yet to cash in over on the floor where him and Shuko just were.
Interacting directly with: and | Tommy Sparks
Male
14
Tommy is a bit of a paradox as he is simultaneously incredibly lazy and clever, mostly being clever enough to find a way to keep being lazy. It's either all or nothing for him. He is a lover once he gets attached to someone he truly and dearly cares for them. It is this tendency to do all he can for those he cares for that gets him in hot water so to speak. He acts younger than his age as a way to lower other people’s guard. Tommy tends to voice his worries and opinions out loud irrespective of others around him, when people take offence he grumpily tells them not to eavesdrop.
Tommy didn’t initially bother with cultivating his quirk as it was more of a hindrance than something good. Deadbeat parents sending him out each day to collect loose change or lost treasures as if they were using a metal detector on a beach. Eventually though he felt frustrated at home, everyone looked twofaced, half-starved Tommy just went out one day and didn’t return. Incidentally Tommy Sparks isn’t his real name. Tommy deliberately forgot his real name to help run from them.
Cultivating an ‘innocent and adorable’ appearance and mannerisms allowed Tommy to get away with a lot, eventually Tommy realised his quirk could be used in a highly profitable way. Namely winning at pachinko. Making little metal balls fall where he wanted? What better way to fine tune control over a quirk? Slowly Tommy began earning a profit by just sitting down in front of a noise maker and having the metal balls land where he wanted. Still a barely 14 year old kid playing pachinko all day? Even the most neglectful person would start to care sooner or later so he eventually just went to a different parlour each day so they all thought he came once a week.
Now with a sizable amount of pocket change, Tommy rented a room in an internet café and then lived out of there, going to a pachinko parlour during the day for ‘work’ to earn some money and then going back to the internet café at night to educate himself online. He had Sunday ‘off’ to go buy clothes and such. With his relatively stable living Tommy eventually just wanted a long comfortable love with people that won’t use him as a walking ATM to withdraw money from.
Pinball Wizard - Tommy has a power loosely connected to magnetism as his quirk. Able to attract and repel any metal object. Tommy can even imitate rudimentary flight, especially in a built up area like a city full of skyscrapers, however in practice it would appear closer to him either swinging from an invisible rope or as if he’s being dragged in a direction.
Currently Tommy’s control and strength of his quirk is a bit low. If Tommy is heavier than the item he’s manipulating, he’ll move it. If Tommy is lighter, he’ll either be pushed or pulled towards it depending on what he’s attempting to do to it. As an example; if Tommy “pushes” a coin into the ground, the coin will fly as fast as Tommy can manage until it hits the ground. Then the force he’s pushing the coin down with will send him upwards. If he tries to “pull” a car, he’ll likely fly towards it instead. If the vehicle was moving he would be better off slamming the brakes on the vehicle than lifting it. Perhaps later with training he’ll be able to manipulate things heavier than him and move things faster.
- Persuasion
- Cooking
- Although it's not photographic, his memory is strong
Tommy was sitting in a pachinko parlour using his quirk to occasionally influence a jackpot, he couldn’t be as blatant as he used to be as the next town over they almost called the cops on him. There was no proof, but being 14 years old and spending all day playing pachinko? Well, it was already stretching it and cops would just try dragging him to school or worse, home. So when he left the pachinko parlour with his bags to toys to exchange for money and was tapped on the shoulder by an official looking woman the fear in his eyes was likely visible.
“Can I help you miss?” putting on his best deer in the headlights look and laying on the sugar in his voice before he was dragged by the ear, bags of toys in hand, all the way to Tumble's agency
Tommy keeps a small fortune in coins on his person ready to use as a makeshift weapon or escape tool with his magnetism |
8,201 | 221 | 34 | 1,106 | 327 | 🆄🅿🅳🅰🆃🅴
With his neck slightly flexed and gaze directed towards the floor, Boro was unfocused and heavily preoccupied with his breathing. His respiration acting up caused him to fail at listening to how everyone interacted; at best, he only managed to occasionally take glimpses of what was happening. The gist of what he knew was that groups were actually being formed, but the decision of who to vote off hadn’t been made.
Only several minutes had passed since he gave out his instructions, but Boro was surprised that someone had actually approached him. Tilting his head to the side with eyebrows unequally raised and mouth agape, he briefly stared at Akemi; his face was masked with what looked to be perplexity.
”Uhm, okay then.” Honestly, out of everyone, Akemi was the last person Boro had expected to come up to him. ”I guess they were right, you really can’t judge a book by its cover.” Boro’s epiphany - if you could call it that - momentarily made him forget about the current state he was in. Alas, good things eventually come to an end.
"You know, yes. You can try not smoking. Might make things easier in the long run."
Boro was snapped back to reality and resumed his labored breathing as Akemi plopped down in front of him. ”Okay, never mind then.” It was a mental note to himself referring to Boro's previous thought.
"Or try an inhaler. I needed one until my plant allergy eventually went away..."
Surprisingly, Boro was speechless; this was an unusual occurrence. He wasn’t sure whether he was being mocked or given genuine advice. Was he supposed to feel frustrated or thankful? It was fairly confusing. To the best of his capabilities, Boro attempted to give the most appropriate reply he could think of. ”Suuree...?”
”No, not good enough!” He realized how dumb he was sounding.
”I mean, thanks for the concern. I’ll definitely kee-”
Unfortunately, his sentence was unexpectedly cut short. "Hey Smoky, when do we get to eat? I'm starving and I don’t think I can last much longer. Plus I'm dying to see some real action so can we hurry this along." A flat expression replaced Boro’s previous look of confusion, but no matter his efforts, he couldn’t hide the engorged vein on his forehead that had suddenly become visible. ”Smoky, huh?”
As much as he wanted to show Jake where he actually stood in the current hierarchy they were in and educate him on the meaning of respect, he couldn’t. For now. Also, he had to admit, it wouldn’t hurt if they prevented this whole thing from dragging on for too long.
Brushing off what he had heard from Jake, Boro let out a prolonged sigh as he got on his feet. Recomposed, his fatigue and breathlessness were no longer apparent; whether or not he actually recovered was still up for discussion though.
Taking in a deep breath, with cupped hands, he called the attention of everyone. ”Let's get the ball rolling, people! Some of you are getting impatient, and I can’t blame them.”
A fraction of the hardened smoke walls had broken off and transformed into an arrow, and began hovering over Satan, with its head pointing towards where he was.
”Any volun---?” Again, Boro's sentenced was cut short; this time, the culprit was definitely smaller, but was twice as talkative.
“Hello, Miss. I’m Tommy. I wouldn’t normally just be blurting my name out like this, but I just had a rather embarrassing conversation where I failed to do so! Imagine that, giving someone a hug and them not even knowing your name? Such poor manners I had… now I’m not sure if this is rude, but Miss… you are a very comfortable to hug and smell kinda like a fresh rainforest and that is, if I may be so bold, nice. Would you like to join me and Major Admiral General Shuko in a group? That is if you haven’t already been recruited. Even then I still offer because I’m feeling rather comfortable and would love it if you’d indulge me just a tiiiiiiiiiiiiny bit longer.” Looking over Akemi’s shoulder, Tommy looked at Boro, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere and failed to notice the volatile mood emanating from Boro.
Instead, he just continued on rambling. “Oh wow, that’s right, I forgot to ask your name! I almost committed the same blunder as just earlier in reverse! That would just be awful, dreadful, and just impolite! Also, Marl! Smoking is bad for your health, you should take good care of yourself, those smokes will kill you some day! They can also make your breath stink, like that grandpa at the... pachinko... parlor...”
........................
Boro, along with everyone else, simply listened and watched. Tommy had indirectly caused the awkward silence that filled the room. However, it didn't seem like he had noticed as he started looking over his shoulder, his attention redirected towards something else.
The silence was broken by the sound of a throat being cleared. ”As I was saying. Any. Volunteers?” There were two veins now and had started to clearly pulsate. The fact that beads of sweat began to trickle from his head probably become more apparent.
🆃🅷🅴 🅾🆃🅷🅴🆁 🅵🅾🆄🆁
It was five in the morning, and Tumble found herself lying on the floor. Drooping eyes, she was almost lifeless and reeking of alcohol. Beside her, was whatever was left of her desktop. She learned it the hard way, yet again; alcohol, despite how soothing it was, didn't mix well with her work. She had been like this for well over an hour; it was about time she got up and prepared for what was to come later that day.
As Tumble sluggishly pulled herself up, her mind was suddenly struck by an amazing idea. In reality though, it was probably just the alcohol. Without hesitation, she acted on her thought and the moment her gait has stabilized, zoomed out to the streets.
"And they said I wasn't a genius." Hopefully, by the time she gets to wear she needed to be, the staggering stench that she was exuding would disappear. Or at least become somewhat milder.
It was thirty minutes passed five, the sun was far from out, and Tumble was alone at a park. Specifically, at the playground; even more detailed, sitting in a sandbox. Tumble realized that her initial plan of going to each of their homes was inefficient and would waste to much time. Luckily for her, she had an incredible alcohol-empowered brain that never let her down when she needed it. Pulling out her phone, she started making some calls. Whether the person on the other end was awake or not didn't really matter to her.
"It's me, Tumble." The tone of her voice was stern and unwavering; how she instantly got rid of her drunker slur was a quirk by itself.
"Meet me at the Toshinori National Garden, beside the swings. I'll be the one in the sandbox. I'll explain when you get here." Tumble was fairly certain that they didn't need or want to reply. Her thoughts were absolute, so she was probably right.
As much as she wanted to boast about what she had devised, Tumble didn't have the time for it. For now, she had more calls to make. | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,202 | 221 | 35 | 1,749 | 150 | Leon begrudgingly awoke to the shrill noise of his phone ringing. At first he'd assumed it was his alarm, but no, it was far too early for that, someone was phoning him at half five in the morning. This had to be important. If it was some dumb prank call he'd blow a gasket. He slumped his arm over, dragging his phone from his bedside cabinet and to his ear as he answered the call.
This was important.
He shot up into a sitting position, mumbling a conformation as Tumble hung up. He rubbed his eyes. Did she say they were meeting in a sandbox? A bit unorthodox, but heroes were always a bit weird.
He was there in about 20 minutes, still half awake and looking like death as he approached the woman.
"Is there a reason we're meeting in a play park of all places?" He asked. | Leon Woo
Male
17
Leon is somewhere inbetween a loudmouth and a mute. He isn't one to voice his opinion on every little thing, but contributes to conversation when he knows or is interested in a topic. Due to his past experiences looking after his brother, he's grown quite accustomed to trying to keep himself and his friends out of trouble, opting to try and resolve conflict through words rather than action. Quite the oxymoron for a chap who carries a sword about with him you would think. Speaking of, one of the few things that he'd actually get fired up over is his heritage, regardless of how bad a person his father may have been he still carries great pride in his surname and family.
Leon hates to be alone, he just begins to think depressing thoughts when he's left alone for too long. As a result he tries to surround himself with others as much as possible, secretly craving approval without ever showing it. He'll often worry for hours on end about things he said that may have come off as embarrassing or offensive, even if they weren't at all.
Being the son of a high ranking Japanese gang member isn't as easy a life as you think it'd be. Especially when you're only half Japanese. Leon spent the most part of his early life learning how to fight or participate in various other criminal activities, tough love at it's most extreme. His father hardly ever showed affection. The few times he did being well out of sight of other gang members. After his brother was born, this lack of affection only increased, with his father having little time to care for either of the brothers on top of his work and maintaining his tough guy image.
Life continued like this for years, until Leon was about 7. It was at this point a rival gang began encroaching on his father's territory. They were much bigger and much more well equipped so the takeover was a piece of cake. If it had not been for his foolish pride, Leon's father wouldn't have been brutally gunned down before Leon's very eyes.
Life after this was a rush to say the least. Leon's mother had to keep moving in order to evade police or gang capture, with Leon and his brother tagging along with little more than confusion in their possession. Life was tough to say the least. When Leon became of age he got a part time job on top of his schoolwork, attempting to provide for his mother and brother as best he could.
His mother was the one who practically forced him to join Tumble. Believing it was the only way for him to get a proper education and make something of his life. Leon begrudgingly accepted. He'd never thought of himself as a 'hero', but the idea grew on him.
Spin - In layman's terms Leon is able to spin anything he touches. While at first this may sound useless, it is actually rather good for building momentum for thrown objects. Currently, Leon is only able to spin objects in his hands, limiting the size of his available arsenal to anything he can lift. However, he has been tampering with literally spinning the air into balls capable of physical damage. However, he is nowhere near good enough for this to be useful at any distance past directly in front of him. Of course, the more he spins something the faster it begins to move which can result in the skin on Leon's hands and potentially forearms to begin to painfully chip away until he stops spinning said object. Furthermore, concentration is paramount when using his quirk, if he is careless the object could go flying backwards into himself.
Boxing - From a young age, Leon had been trained in the art of boxing. Admittedly, he hasn't done it in quite a while, but the skill still remains to a degree.
Tailoring - Having to sew his own and his brothers clothing over the years has made Leon quite the apt tailor.
Football - Leon isn't too bad at the sport. In fact, his 'keepie-uppie' skills are unmatched by anyone he's yet to meet.
Leon's eyes began to flutter asleep as he lay sprawled out over the dingy sofa he'd grown so accustomed to. As soon as he was asleep, he was awake again, with the shrill shriek of his mother acting as a pseudo alarm clock as she entered the house. She sprinted over to the now awake boy, rubbing his eye with his palm as he slid into a sitting position.
Thinking he was in trouble, Leon quickly began searching his mind for any misdeeds he had recently done and any excuses he could think to move the blame away. Surprisingly enough his mother looked happy, ecstatic even, she clutched a letter in her hand reading it over and over again as if the text would change if she didn't keep her eye on it.
"You got accepted!"
"What?" Asked Leon, still half-asleep.
"By Tumble's agency!" Leon was slightly confused by this revelation. He'd been too preoccupied with school and work to even remember applying, let alone see the letter when he had came home earlier. A small smile grew on his face, it'd been a while since his mother had been this happy.
"Oh yeah, I declined that earlier." He lied, teasing people was fun, especially when they were as gullible as his mother. Speaking of which, a look of unbridled rage had swept across her face as she moved across the room, grabbing a newspaper, rolling it up and proceeding to beat the now laughing, Leon with it under his cries explaining the joke to her. |
8,203 | 221 | 36 | 1,010 | 272 | No way, jose. This team is built upon your back. He said to Jake, still holding Shoichi's shoulder. "I'll resign instead. Shenmu, you have to take over as team ladies' man, got it? Just steal their hearts." He told her, giving her the thumbs up, before looking over at Boros. He was asking for volunteers. Presumably to get kicked out. He smirked, glaring back at Boros. "I know your game, coconut head. I'm calling your bluff!" He thought.
"I'll go." Yuki said. | Yuki Takamine
Male
15
Yuki comes across as a friendly, outgoing young man, if a bit cocky and arrogant. He likes to fight, and he desires strength above all else, though he's not telling why. Despite his somewhat inflated ego, he's not particularly selfish. He just thinks he's the coolest dude. To be fair, he's very good at keeping his composure. His reactions to most things are very understated. It's not that he doesn't have feelings, it's just that he's not very noisy about them.
Born to a quirkless mother and a father with a minor ice-based quirk, Yuki grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was, as far as Yuki knew, a businessman. He didn't see dad very much, because he was gone most of the time. He mostly just did whatever he felt like, and had no particular goals or ambitions until that fateful day. When he was seven, his mother took him along on an errand to a bank, and it just so happened it was being robbed by a villain. He watched as a person was killed, and he was afraid his mother and him would be next...But then a hero appeared and saved them. Ever since, he wanted to be a hero. He started training his powers, and hoped to be accepted into one of the many hero academies.
He thought his dream had ended when he turned 14, however. His father was arrested. It turned out he wasn't a businessman: He was the supervillain Hypothermia, wanted for several murders. Yuki was now a known criminal element, and it seemed he now had no hope of being accepted into any of the academies.
Then he heard about Tumble...
Freeze Bomb - Yuki holds out his hand, and a perfectly formed ball of what looks like water forms in his hand. It takes about a second. The ball bursts from even a small amount of force: Doing much more than squeezing it will cause it to explode, encasing everything within about 10 feet of it in an inch of ice. It also freezes any water in this area solid. Yuki is not immune to this effect: If he drops one of the orbs, it'll freeze him too. The ice it creates is totally normal, and it can be broken, albeit only with quite a bit of force.
Ice Skating - Yuki is quite agile on ice: He can slide around on it fairly well. No fancy tricks, but he can outmaneuver most people on an icy floor. He doesn't even need skates.
Pitcher - Yuki was in Little League, and he can throw pretty well. This means he can get good range out of his ice bombs.
Hand-to-Hand - Yuki has been in a fair number of fights. He's not amazing or anything, but he can throw a proper punch and probably hold his own in a scuffle. Without his powers, he'd probably lose against a trained martial artist, but not before getting a few good hits in.
Yuki looked over the sheet of paper. It had a list of high schools he'd been accepted into. It was embarrassingly short. Only two. He'd expected as much. He'd never been a good student, and had been hoping to get by on his powers and become a hero. Ever since his father had been arrested, he just hadn't had it in him to keep trying.
"It's not like I have much of a choice. Really, I don't know if I have much of a fut-" He said, then spotted the second name on the list. Huh. So he had been accepted into a hero academy. "Tumble?" He asked, holding the paper in his hand and studying it carefully. A miracle, before his eyes. "Sign me up for this one." He said, nodding.
Nope. |
8,204 | 221 | 37 | 760 | 73 | Akemi Akagi
Akemi couldn't help but grin as she watched Boro trip over himself. Apparently her small talk skills were a little rusty, and for that she felt bad. But it was nice to see him a little less standoffish. Akemi held back as she watched Jake inquire about food. At first she didn't know what to think, but after this display of complete disregard of the situation at hand, she had a clear picture. He was one of them simple types. Though, she reckoned he could be scary in an one on one fight. She listed to Boro try to get everyone back under control and follow today's agenda only to be caught off guard from someone latching onto her vines.
Contrary to the rest of the room, Akemi didn't find the massive wave of words pouring out of the lad's mouth all that awkward. Sure, it was a lot to take in, but the fact that someone was taking so much interest in her made her feel good. As Tommy spoke, Akemi spun around and parted her vines a bit to get a good look at Tommy's face and smiled; unsure of how much of her he could actually see given the limited light able to reach her. Her vines moved and set Tommy to a comfortable talking distance, no longer in his generous hug. As she did, she noticed his partner Shuko before turning back her attention to him.
"Nice to meet you Tommy, yes. I am Akemi, pleased to meet you. Although I'm afraid I'm already been accepted, or was, yes, into a group. Though now, I'm afraid I'm volunteering as tribute. Though I hope to see you around again."
”As I was saying. Any. Volunteers?” As if on cue, Boro's words picked up where she finished and she in turn perked up and turned around to give a reply of her own.
"Oho, yes. That's me for one. I came on behalf of the Yuki's group." She said as pointed back with one of her vines. She looked back in time to see Yuki's conviction. ".. Of course, yes, I'll gladly step in for any group that still requires a tribute. Honestly, I'd reckon I have the least potential here, as far as powers, for a hero. That's what you were asking for, yes?" | Akemi Akagi
Female
15
Akemi's known for being pretty timid. She likes to take slow steps as she creeps around to where the people are; and when invited to speak, there's a brief pause between each of her ideas. However, she's usually very calm and seems to follow through with anything she does without holding back. She's also quite a realist. She knows when the odds are stacked against her, and prefers not to waste her time and effort.
Akemi was actually quite the outgoing child before her quirk started to kick in. Always running head first and living in the now.
Bust as her quirk started to develop, she noticed herself start to fade into the background of her class. It wasn't anything to be concerned about at first; she got along with just about anybody, and could easily find a group to join as class demanded. It wasn't until free time that she could feel her isolation. Everyone always grouped up around this activity or that, enjoying their time together while Akemi tended to sit on the sidelines; no longer interested in running around or what her peers were up to.
Growing up a few years; while her classmate's bond with each other deepened and cliques began to form, Akemi remained on the sidelines looking from afar. She was pretty happy though. Watching the other students play their games and socialize brought an intrigued smile across her face. She liked watching them have fun even if she wasn't in the middle of it. At least until, she woke up one day; nearing the end of her middle school career while life passed her by.
Filled with less than stellar motivation, Akemi started taking the liberty of not coming to class as often. Of course, her parents didn't know, but that was easy to cover up. Slipping in and out of the house was relatively easy and she was able to brush off any inquiry of about her absence without any consequence. Akemi began spending most of her days roaming the town. Her vines grew wild and unkempt,
and before she knew it she lost any direction in life and simply existed.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from her head, which she can control at will. Theses vines can stretch and grow up to a range of 15 meters, though she can only effectively control one or two strands with any skill.
These vines can also produce a strange flower. The effects of this flower remains unknown as it continues to wilt before fully blooming.
Mobile - Akemi isn't particularly fast or with great endurance, but she can turn and take off on a dime.
Thick Skinned - Being hit by a truck would obviously knock her down, but a solid punch and minor cuts won't even faze her.
Quiet - Unless you put effort into it, one might not even know she's there. A soft voice with silent steps to match.
"Oho, yes..." Akemi looked down at the desk in front of her. Her vines covered her face, but her disappointment bled through her voice. She should've expected it, given how little she actually came to class nowadays; but it was a disheartening blow regardless. In front of her laid a single piece of paper telling her what choices she had to pick from. There were only two. For one reason or another she missed the cut to join most of any of the high schools in the area. The first of her choices was the old school that had come to be known for its quirk-enabled students being outnumbered nine to one. While she didn't really plan on attending much of her classes, going to a place with a focus on the quirk-less didn't sound all that appealing. Her other choice was much like the list of schools she failed to get into. In fact, she was quite surprised this one managed to stay available. Akemi had already chose this as her school of choice, due to lack of options, but she couldn't help but be curious on why the bar was set so low compared to the others. Excusing herself, Akemi left school. Honestly it was about 50/50 if anyone noticed. She headed off into town, to see what this school was all about.
Anything else that doesn't fit into the rest of the sheet. |
8,205 | 221 | 38 | 1,821 | 1,685 | Kira Nomo
Almost everyday since since Kira turned twelve, she had been getting up at five in the morning in order to perform a routine workout to stay in shape for baseball. Things have changed since that time. The workouts had changed from conditioning, pitching and batting practice to strength and martial arts. Her father had fully embraced retirement and stopped waking up to help his daughter train. Kira suspected that he was still upset about her failure in following his footsteps, which was beginning to get a bit, well... tiring. It wasn't as if Kira could control the commission or rules, but still, her father found a way to psuedo-blame her for it.
Although Kira felt like she was growing apart from her father, there was at least something good to come from it. Kira and her mother had never really been to close since it was always her and her father. She was more of a background figure in her life, which Kira came to regret as she was getting to know her mother since her fall from baseball. Every morning Kira's mother would wake up at five, tidy the house a bit, and then prepare Kira a healthy breakfast. It was breakfast with mother and those moments would always be held in Kira's fondest memories.
This became Kira's new routine as she prepared for the inevitable call from the mysterious Tumble. She hadn't a clue when she might be called but better to be safe and prepared than not at all. In fact, Kira had a gym bag prepped ever since the evening of her acceptance, so when a call came at five-thirty in the morning, Kira had a feeling it was time.
Sure enough, her mother called her into the kitchen, told her who called, and offered her bag and a simple breakfast. Kira quickly ate most of it, gave her mother a hug, and departed with her mother's well wishes.
Kira followed her mother's instructions with a hint of skepticism. "Meet me at the Toshinori National Garden, beside the swings. I'll be the one in the sandbox." ... There was an explanation to follow, supposedly. The thought had briefly crossed Kira's mind that this was all some elaborate hoax, a joke at her expense, but this all strangely sounded right, like this was a test for something grander. No way of knowing until she was there.
She was dressed in dirty blue hoodie and plain looking sweats that concealed her shorts and a plain t-shirt. Her hood was up and her gym bag was thrown over her shoulder, looking the part of a serious early morning athlete. Kira had surprisingly arrived second to another. Upon arrival, Kira noticed a woman laying in the sand... Tumble? She assumed from the unflattering eccentric first impression but there was the other. A fellow student..? He looked fit, though a bit groggy and maybe a bit beyond that, worn out..? "Morning. Kira Nomo, ready for..." Kira stopped just before the sandbox and glanced down at the infamous Tumble, expressing slight bewilderment. "...anything, Tumble." Her tone trailing off in hesitation at the sight. | Kira Nomo
Female
17 Years Old
If you were going to play to TV from a high school setting, Kira would play the part of the noble, friendly star quarterback. She is approachable and handles people with a smile and an air of friendliness but she still suffers from being a jock, resulting in more stubborn, thick-headed reactions. What’s more is that Kira’s prideful and anything short of a starter and anything akin to a challenge, she’ll be very likely to take offense.
When your famous, but retired, Major League Baseball player of a father wanted a son to follow his footsteps in baseball but you turned out to be a daughter, you should probably be ready to accept that you’ll have to play baseball. To Hideo Nomo’s surprise, his daughter was apparently destined for baseball. At a young age, she was capable of smashing the ball when batting and pitched a fastball with surprising heat that even caught Hideo off guard a few times.
To Kira, all the attention and praise from her father had really built her up and put baseball on a pedestal for her. She not only wanted to play, but she wanted to be the best as her father really fostered a competitive spirit in her. For most of her life, she revolved around baseball, scoring mediocre grades in school as a result, but she passed by enough. The important thing was, she was playing for the Juniors League, a division of very serious baseball players in Japan. If you did well in this league, you’d be signed onto the pros once you hit eighteen.
Kira had been playing the sport so well, many thought she’d end up playing Majors with the rest of men. However the MLB in the States has a very strict screening for quirks as they want to preserve the authenticity of the sport and not allow too strong of a quirk. When it was discovered that Kira had enhanced strength, she was barred from entry, much the dismay to her and her father. This meant that although Kira could compete in Japan, she couldn’t compete with the best. It was a huge blow to her competitive fire and she went on to play for a bit longer before retiring, no longer having the drive to continue. However it wasn’t all bad… Kira had heard some promising rumors of something forming that had use of quirks and hers had to be the best, right? ...
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in Kira’s muscle fibers have resulted in them performing feats of increased strength, provided the right motion is performed. Firstly, Kira is incredibly flexible, appearing double jointed and almost rubbery when tested.
For example, she could rotate her forearm several times over, coiling her muscles and flesh around her radius and ulna bones. It is a conscious act to perform and theoretically, Kira is only limited to her own strength as the elastic tension caused by her own muscles will increase the amount of resistance. Once Kira relaxes and stops forcing her arm to twist, the muscles and skin will unwind using the elastic tension to return Kira’s arm to normal. By really stretching her limits of flexibility, Kira can extra force in tests of strength, like coiling her legs in a squat right before a jump to get added height or twisting her upper body several times over to spin like a violent top.
As the elastic tension increases, Kira’s flesh appears as if she had gotten a sunburn and eventually, steam will escape from her pores as some of the stored energy escapes through heat. Icing the muscles used in this way is recommended as the muscles will inflame from such usage. As an added effect, using this quirk requires a lot of calories and will cause quite a hunger.
Kira isn’t presently aware of her true strength and simply believes she has super strength. What she isn’t aware of, however, is that the motions in baseball have her stretch conveniently to use some of her quirk’s strength. When batting and pitching, she stretches her torso along her spine more so than she realizes, allowing her to get that extra ‘fire’ when up to bat or on the mound. Otherwise her athletics (ie running) are just above par with an average, healthy, twenty year old.
Baseball.
It takes more than just brute strength to play baseball well and Kira has the reflexes and focus to compete with the best of the Japanese Junior Professional League. Her strengths were obviously batting and pitching.
Rich.
Due to her father’s profession, he ended up with a lot of money before he retired. Kira never needed to worry about a problem that money could solve. More than that, Kira has quite a sum of money in her account because apparently being a mini-celebrity in the Juniors was enough for Kira to become a marketable figure for advertising agencies, though that attention has faded as Kira’s chance to play in the majors has been reduced to zero. Still, you might find Kira’s face on a poster for a kid’s shoe line out there.
The letter addressed to Kira from Tumble had been sitting on her desk since this morning. It was now six in the evening as Kira had finished a nervous walk around the block. She didn’t know what her chances were with being accepted into Tumble’s Hero Agency. She had no knowledge of how they gauged quirks but surely, hers would be accepted… right? She does have super strength and didn’t All Might have the same thing? Of course she’d be accepted. All Might was a hero and she’d be a great one, maybe even a better one…
No, now wasn’t the time to get ahead of herself. One step at a time as dad always said. Fundamentals first and once you get those, start aiming higher. First step was opening this letter. In an instant, she reached out and grabbed the envelope, ripping it open before the envelope had even completely left the table. The letter was slightly ripped as it was extracted from its paper casing and Kira quickly devoured with her eyes the kanji printed on the paper.
Accepted. Of course. She knew it to be, but still, she found the idea of being a hero a bit frightening. It was a different game compared to baseball… ”Hey father! I made it! I got accepted!” Kira called from the office of her father’s house. She knew her father was right around the corner but heard only a faint grunt in response. He clearly was still down about his only daughter not being a baseball player. Despite that, she knew he would be happy for her. Now… how best to train...
Seeing as Kira has had difficulties utilizing her strength without a ball or bat in hand, she keeps a fancy bat with a fancy sheath with her, almost as if it were her sword. |
8,206 | 221 | 39 | 1,051 | 1,675 | Ruby Lake
It was the early dawn of a new day, Ruby was very tirred as she been up all night since she techically didn't have somewhere to sleep after running away from home. The first hours had been mostly her trying to put as much distance between herself and home as possible, and as the hour grew later she started regretting her choice... she knew nothing of living on her own, if she didn't get a reply to her message to Tumblr about her wanting to seek her out and trian under her she didn't know would happen to her. Hours passed and she had just aobut all given up hope when her phone rang, she checked briefly if it was from anyone she knew then picked it up as she realized it was the number she been waiting on. "It is?... I really hope so, because I'm betting just about everyhting on the information I gathered about you. Never mind, I meet you there" she replied and hung up, it wasen't that she wanted to be rude or anything, but it was all information she really needed and talking longer would only risk her phone call getting tracked if anyone was listening to her phone. If the FBI Episodes had taught her anything, it was that nothing is really 'secure'.
With her message completed Ruby threw her phone to the ground and stomped on it to shatter it into pieces. Then to be extra sure she inhaled deeply and breathed fire onto the pieces. She then turned tail towards her destination, lickily she had bought a map as she didn't want to use her Gps function, and Toshinori National Garden happened to be a pretty big mark on it. She pulled herself up from the bench she had been resting on, realized she had quite a distance to travel. Yet looking around she noticed several tall buildings nearby, her choice became simple... she spread her wings and flapped them again, she was tired... but she still managed to carry herself after resting. She flew up to the first steps of a set of firestairs and then used them to ascent to the top of the first building. Once she reached the roof she looked around to find her directions an then spred her wings. Hesitating for but a moment Ruby then shuddered before she ran to the side, spread her wings and threw herself off it like only a Lunatic or suicidal person would. Her wings caught wind and her fall slowed, with a few flaps she adjusted with some difficulty into the right direction and then mostly just glided from the high place as far as it would carry her.
It toook her a while, and when the garden was in sight she thought she could just die from the tiredness. She smiled and walked into the garden, finding it beautiful and peaceful. She wondered if it wouldn't make a good place to sleep if nothing else, not that she was feeling particular hobo, but beggars couldnt' be choosers and it was not like she could just go home. When she saw the sandbox she approached it, thinking only then about how oddly particular of a place it was to meet. Perhaps it was just a place that stood out and was easy to find, or perhaps there was some kind of plan behind the place. Ruby hoped that the person she was meeting didn't at least hope to bury her corpse or something in the sandbox, after all she had no idea who she actually was meeting with. "Are you Tumble?" she asked as she didn't quite recognize her for the hero yet.
She noticed a male and female pair around her age nearby but didn't pay any extra attention to them at first. However she did wonder if they was someone involved in this or not. | Ruby clothes are usually elegant and black with frills and white quillings, thus resembling elegant gothic lolita fashion. She often wears a red corset beneath with black shoes and red socks.
Rubina Westerville: "Ruby Lake"
Female
16
Self reliant, rebellious and somewhat naughty would probably be some words that you could use to describe her. She's quite fiery, very active, and not really shy as she trained that away ages ago. She can be rather tsudere to people she likes. She's hard working when motivated, and tends to goof off or get bored when she's not.
Ruby is a girl who seeks some excitement and enlightenment in her life as she comes from a strict and sheltered life. Curious about the outside world and the experiences she could gain from not being constantly molded into perfection by various people in her life. She's not unfriendly as she has been taught to be rather well behaved towards others and will try to behave around new people she meets to make a good impression. However, there are times when she needs to just try new things, gain new experiences and just see things for herself.
One could say she's on a path to discovering who she truly is. Is she really the girl her parents want her to be? Or is she someone completely different? Only time will reveal the person she truly is or will grow into.
The daughter of a quite wealthy family, Rubina or 'Ruby' as she prefer being called have been lived a strict and controlled life. While her parents nearly never come home, they still forced their wills of what they liked Ruby to become upon her against her will. Wanting her to become the heir of their legacy they had quite strict ideals of what skills was required achieve that goal. While not being able to force their ideals upon her in person while being away, they kept contact with their servants who in turn carrie out their will. Most of her lifem Ruby have been raised, lectured and taught by servants and private tutors.
However, Ruby grew to dislike most of them as they seemed to have had a square view on what they thought would make a 'perfect girl'. Constant nagging and attempted corrections from her servants in response to her behavior made her grow increasingly resistant as she grew older and smarter. As she started seeing through their behavior, she grew rebellious, doing whatever she liked instead while letting others take responsibility for her actions. During most of her life, there was only one person she really trusted and could relate too, a butler named Jack Lake. He was nice to her and seemed to get her. He earned her trust over the years from her childhood through kindness and compassion. Ruby liked him a lot and continued to do so even as she grew older. He became somewhat of a father figure for her as she didn't see her real father very often and had grown to dislike him.
Being a lone child was quite tough, she had to shoulder whatever her parents tried to put on her, from learning how to act like a proper young lady to satisfy her mothers ideals. To how to run a company, from the ideals of her father. One moment she could be learning how to dance waltz and other dances, another she could be studying economics. It was tiresome, and the only way Ruby really got to vent was during her free time when she took to unleash pent up emotions often through her quirk and physical training. Interestingly enough, one of the few ways Jack helped her was by helping her train in Dragon-Fu, a somewhat combined material arts practice with dragon like abilities added in. He also helped her stretch, and actually helped her practice dancing in a fun way by teaching her that it could be used both in combat and interactions as it was important to be able to move around securely while also having attention on opponents and respond to their moves with her own.
Her young life was pretty much what one would expect, from an early age she was raised mostly by the servants and they became somewhat more of a family to her than what her real one ever was. As a child she hadn't started to dislike anyone just yet, but she had gotten some bad experiences from interacting with her parents.
The older she got, the less people she started to trust, mostly because there was too many folks to listen too and too few she could really relate with and feel like she belonged. They treated her as a little princess, and while they spoiled her, they also required a lot from her in return. Ruby learned that her parents thought they could just buy her affection if needed, but the older she got, the more she realized that they didn't realize how smart she was becoming.
The biggest moment in her life was probably when she started developing her quirk. She started growing horns and wings, suddenly turning more dragon like. It was difficult at first getting used to it, and she often accidentally sat fire to something which she ended up getting scolded for. As she grew, so did her appetite. She turned into somewhat of a glutton, wanting food very often, so much her servants thought she was going to get fat. Since it was 'unladylike' to eat a lot, they tried to restrict her.
It was another factor that made her stop liking most of the people around her. She started sneaking into the kitchen to grab whatever she could find. The chef however caught her, and wanted to teach her a lesson by putting out red hot chili peppers on the table, something to make her regret eating it. However, it turned out that it backfired as Ruby loved the taste of them; having a breath that literally could set things on fire, spicy things were nothing but treats and candy to her.
Growing into a teenager puberty would hit at some point. The spur of growth and development would be a time where she would wreck down all the foundations of her past life and test all limits. It was a time of big change, one that would make her into the girl she is today. From learning more advanced things to turning from a rather 'obedient' girl to a rebellious teenager.
Learning how to fight, how to lead, how to dance, and how to do difficult calculations. She grew more and more self reliant, trusting only Jack whom she shared just about all her teenage problems with. From the really embarrassing stuff to fun and games. She was just glad to have him around.
Little Dragon:
Little Dragon is a quirk that grants Ruby characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Mostly shown by the illustration above, Several parts of her body are diffusely covered in a layer of tough scales. These protect her from most physical hazards and provide resistance to fire. The claws Ruby possesses are very sharp, allowing her to cut into things if she want too. Her wings are slightly smaller than that of a fully grown dragon, but these still allow her to fly or glide over short distances and heights.
While labeled as a strong quirk by some, it is not without its weaknesses. The traits that Ruby received are more complementary and do not provide any boost in her physical capabilities. Although not that obvious, Ruby doesn't posses more strength or endurance than a normal girl her age. And despite the resilience provided by her scales, not all parts of her body are protected by it, giving her several vulnerable areas that could be used against her. Lastly, sustained flight or a prolonged, steady stream of fire aren't things Ruby is capable off. Well, at least for now.
Dragon-Fu: Basically a mixed material art formed with dragon parts added. She was taught this mostly from Jack Lake who knew a lot about martial arts, through a lot of training, and by seeking out the knowledge of how to advance it.
Gluttony of Spices Ruby is very found of anything spicy; from red hot chili peppers to whatever else is considered as 'super hot'. Being able to literally breathe fire, she is resistant to heat and almost complete immune to spicy food. She does however really like the taste of it.
Dancing: Not a skill she's technically found off, but she can dance really well because she was forced to take learn it, the only one that could make her like doing it was Jack when he said she could use it to learn how to fight better becuase it gave mobility skills and the ability to read others.
It all really started on a rainy Monday, with black and gray filling the sky. Rain was beating towards the roof like small nails falling from above and Ruby was extra sulky because she couldn't go outside. While rain was not dangerous to her she din't like the cold rain, nor was she technically allowed too go outside either, but there was few things except for chains that could stop her if she really wanted too. It hadn't been a bad day, but Ruby was in a foul mood anyway. She was just getting tired of being locked up, locked in and forced to become a princess. Most of her life she had never really left the estate, only gone outside to play in the yard as a child or go for walks in the sun. Of course, there was those occasional moments when she got into a car to get driven to an airport or wherever her parents sent her.
Between starring out car windows, airplane windows, reading or watching television about it, Ruby had hardly ever seen nature in its full beauty. It was what made her feel trapped inside, A feeling fueled quite a bit by herself too since she probably could have run away if she wanted too, but there was a wide unknown world outside.
Tapping on her computer that she at least was allowed to have, Ruby checked the various pages and news that she used too. An article about heroism and heroes that popped up on the front page drew her attention as usual; various heroes performing large deeds so that people like herself could live a normal boring life. Ruby was jealous of them, they could be out there in the heat of the moment, fight crime and whatever. And here she sat, bored to death by the weather, and freaking starving since dinner hadn't been served yet.
A few more clicks got her to a forum which she used to rant, she found herself often writing about her daily troubles without revealing who she was or what they technically was about. Using her username "Red_Lake". She had just wrote a short rant "Ugh... I wish I could be a Hero, and not need to sit through one other of Bob's lectures about social classes of old... who the Fluff cares if there was peasants and nobility in the past?... its not that much different today... what I wouldn't give to go camping in the mountains, get a soda, and just live a life outside four walls for once... sorry for ranting as usual" she wrote, and then laid back on her bed to stare at the roof.
Her eyes trailed around as she laid there on her back with wings spread to the side, her hair was somewhat getting in the way of her face as she had laid down suddenly, but she merely let a the back of her right hand rest on her forehead before slowly sliding down on the pillow behind, her left was on her belly. The idle sound of her tail scraping against the bed filled her ears, yet she just closed her eyes for a moment to rest. Suddenly however she stirred from the sound of a message popping up on her computer screen. For a second she groaned that she forgotten to turn the sound off again, but she lazily shifted to the side and looked to the screen.
"There's a someone that can show and teach you how to be a hero"-it was from an unknown sender.
The message in the screen was burning into Ruby's eyes, at first she thought nothing off it. Was it a joke or just someone trying to really make her feel better? No matter she decided to not leave it unanswered and replied "Like how? Not like you just go and become a hero or something. Besides, four walls you know. " she replied.
It was silent for a while.
She then received another message here's a -Link- if you don't believe me"-the same person replied
Ruby looked to the message and idly stroked the link with her cursor to read the destination while pondering over if she should click it or not. She didn't want to end up somewhere weird or get viruses or something, after all she didn't need the extra trouble or end up loosing her computer. Figuring she might as well, she clicked the link and ended up with information about Tumble. She spent a good while there, reading up, checking sources and when she was done, she was not dissatisfied.
A few days more passed and Ruby eventually got fed up with everything. Eventually she couldn't stand being locked up anymore. Thus when the weather cleared she headed outside before taking to the sky. She let the winds guide her as she went to seek out Tumble, wherever she may be.
As for what she aspires for, Ruby dreams of making a name for herself in the world rather than following the strict path carved by her parents or ride on any wave they have created. It was because of this she made somewhat of an alias for herself. Ruby Lake, she called herself, because Ruby being a nickname she preferred over 'Young lady' which she had heard too many times. And the last name Lake, mostly because she often wish that Jack Lake would have been her father instead so she wouldn't have to go through all the bull crap just to live a good life. |
8,207 | 221 | 40 | 1,140 | 197 | Murdok
Music of the city streets hummed and buzzed per usual. Various exhaust smoke trails, steam trails from machines and buildings filled the air. The scents? Ranged from flavorful to foul. Answering yet another phone-call, a similar angered fueled hang-up ends the conversation. Leisurely Murdok exits the second phone booth he's been forced to use today. Generally annoyed and always lacking haste to his step, Murdok decides to take the long route. Enjoy the current walk through the concrete jungle he calls home.
Decent amount of time passed before arrival to the destination told by Tumble. Cigarette poised in mouth, movements didn't cease until Murdok lazily leaned against one of the swing-set poles. Not particularly bothered by anyone he spots, or passes. (Though they probably didn't find his faint trail of smoke enjoyable.) Heck the man hardly gives Tumble a nod upon showing up.
Realizing his surroundings the cigarette is quickly extinguished on his tongue. Flicking the butt onto the ground, fingers are interlaced behind head. Furthering his lackadaisical vibe. Albeit still hosting an expression which seemed very disgruntled over the whole scenario. Coughing or grunting weakly, Murdok clears throat to aid speaking. Saying his voice sounded unenthusiastic would be a horrific understatement. The man's gaze could be seen slowly inspecting every individual who was there.
"Well? Lets get on with it..." | Image accurately represents clothing, loose fit, matrial arts gi/attire. Typically accustomed by a cloak/robe which is worn. The man also shows a fascination/favor for beanies and headbands. Shoewear is 'ninja' tabi.
Shugo Fukunaga
Male
17
Ornery, aloof, blunt, and shows tendencies of overall rudeness and mischievousness. Calling 'Murdock' an Anti-hero would be far to kind. Views the 'Heroes Dream' as a fools journey. Rather pessimistic, or lacks faith, concerning life and the 'good left within the world'. Fully aware of his bad temper/attitude, Murdok shows zero desire to change. Despite all prior statements, albeit hard, to gain Murdok's trust would be to gain an unwavering comrade and friend. Finally, loves to be a grouch. For he thinks, "Nobody spends time getting to know an asshole." (Which works perfectly for Murdok's aloof persona.)
Mother and father were renown heroes, sadly both died . Murdok was left in the care of his only brother, who was twenty-three. Being a swiftly growing hero himself, Murdok was basically left to tend himself. Since Murdok's older brother possessed very little time to take care of him. Murdok possesses the same quirk as his mother, whereas the older brother possessed the same quirk as their father. (A gorilla-quirk, much like Murdok's.)
Already a notable problem child under his brothers care. This factor increased ten-fold upon the vanishing of his brother. (Kumatetsu Fukunaga, ) One month passed with Murdok under the 'foster-care' of another before he ran away. At age of thirteen Murdok was living on his own.
Currently Murdok struggles with a severe criminal record due to his attitude, destruction of property, theft, and even a few deaths. Albeit those deaths were committed in self defense, they still reflect horribly on the boy. Belief Murdok is a 'diamond in the rough', 'a man constantly at the wrong place, at the wrong time', and 'absolutely needs to get his shit together, or risks being branded a villain'.
Monkey King/Sun Wukong - Called "Monkey King/Sun Wukong" not only by users, but others. Name, with zero surprise, stems from the legends of the Monkey king. Users share physiology of a monkey or Ape. Body is covered in fur, except for face, palms and etc. Facial structure, eyes and even teeth resembles that of a massive humanoid Monkey. Yes he possesses a tail, and feet are alike hands, able to grab things/etc. (Murdok can only swing from his tail, briefly, any longer or sustained holding could prove harmful. Also, the tail is a major weakspot. Hence why it's always wrapped around his waist when idle.)
Without training, Murdok possesses unnaturally high agility, stamina and strength. In no way, are his attributes further than ordinary human capabilities. Yet attributes far surpass his age and body-build. (Currently his agility is his most outstanding/notable attribute.) Also with enough work Murdok is likely able to achieve superhuman-status in previously stated domains.
Final thing which should be mentioned, sharing physiology with apes causes vocal cords to be stronger or create sounds, howls and yells unlike a human could. Murdok displays considerable ability to mimic sounds, or throw his voice as well. (This factor also aids in beat-boxing.)
Martial arts/CQC - Displays high knowledge and skill with fist fighting and overall close quarters combat. In fact, the atmosphere where people have seen Murdok most 'civil' is during times of training within a dojo.
Beats and Rhymes - Fascinated with the music scene of hip-hop, rap, and the like. Possesses a notable skill with creating beats, tempos and timing. Murdok also has a knack for rhyming. But, it's obvious his strong suit is producing/beats.
Soft-Steps - Living on the streets and doing other scandalous activities has left Murdok constantly moving with a silent stride. Or at least, typically moves as quiet as manageable without realizing it. Thus, can prove to be impeccably silent when decision to sneak is taken. (Of course, this skill, alike all others. Have an extreme amount of room for improvement and are the farthest thing from perfection!)
Clumsy movements down the street screeched to a halt. Direction shifted and Murdok entered a nearby phone-booth. Persistent telephone rings became silenced upon the man answering it. Raised eyebrow of curiosity weakened as the words were listened too. The following sound could only be related to a local zoo. Murdok laughed, no, he howled due to what the person on the other line stated and said. Bracing himself on the wall and holding side which now ached, the phone dropped and began lazily dangling by the cord. A comical 'ppppbbbbbbbbbbtttt' echoed in the booth as Murdok collected himself from all the amusement. Standing upright, the phone was grabbed once more. Obviously the person on the line was very annoyed now, as Murdok could hear them well before placing phone to ear.
"I do not wish to play hero. Never have and never wi-...."
Sentence was cut short, previous cocky attitude went monotone. Which anger swelled and replaced, Murdok could swear the plastic of the phone was going to crack as grip forcibly tightened. A member of Tumble's agency was on the other line. Speaking of Murdok's brother had caused the reaction of anger and silence.
'I see a nerve has been struck, goood! Now, listen carefully Mister Murdok. Refusal of Tumble's offer is not an option. We both know this is your last straw and you risk being branded a villain. Concerning your brother.. You will get no better information, than what other heroes can provide. Thus, we expect to see you soon! Also stay out of trouble! Or else.....' *Click*
Slamming of the phone hanging up was all that echoed now. Besides the normal hubbub of the streets, that is. Patting his pockets and person, Murdok withdraws a smoke and takes a long drag. To relieve stress and all. Kicking the door of the booth to a close, direction is headed to where he's needed. Or would it be better to say, forced to be?
Insults concerning his physiology are asking for immediate hostile reaction from Murdok. Nothing crawls under his skin more than a 'monkey-based' insult or comment. Heck, he even shows extreme awkwardness or irritation even at compliments to this subject. Murdok is also a die-hard smoker of cigarettes.... |
8,208 | 221 | 41 | 1,984 | 122 | Nori Azami & Reina Mori
Collaboration with
BGM
Nori's laughter took Reina by surprise, and her natural reaction was to glance at the other girl with sheepish confusion; as though she assumed she had said something stupid to garner the reaction, but didn't know exactly what. Had she really already made a fool of herself in front of her group?
When she saw Nori's expression, however, the unpleasant doubt she felt dissipated--the smile the girl wore was bright and comforting, and it made Reina notice how nice her laugh was to listen to. Her speaking voice, as well; it was confident, and composed, and--
Reina caught herself. Why... was she thinking so much about Nori? Why was she noticing so much about her on their first meeting? Why did she find herself really wanting to spend more time around her?
The black-haired girl felt her cheeks reddening as she dwelled on the implications of her thoughts.
Enough. You're stupid. That's not--
Nori addressed Reina, saving her from her inner voice. "Your plan to rig the votes would’ve been a good one if you actually knew someone here, let alone everyone.”
Reina looked to the girl, considering her words for a moment before giving a sheepish smile as she scratched at her cheek. Nori was right--to do that she'd have to get everyone on board with the idea, and Reina wasn't exactly adept at speaking, especially to people she didn't even know the names of. She thought it over some more, realizing there was an element of trust needed for the plan as well; if anyone didn't like it, they could simply vote for anyone that already had one vote against them. Doing so probably wouldn't make the person very popular with the rest of the kids, but it was another flaw in the idea.
“I’m not gonna vote on you, I’m not even gonna vote at all. I haven’t even seen anyone’s capabilities yet, so I don’t want to, it’s easy really,” Nori said.
Reina nodded in agreement, wearing her own faint smile. Her eyes widened slightly and she tensed up as she suddenly noticed Nori taking confident steps towards her. Her instincts told her to move away, though she managed to fight against the natural reaction and stop herself.
If it had been anyone else approaching her, she would have taken a few quick steps back due to her quirk... but she didn't have to do that around Nori, as was made evident by the increase in the strength of the girl's breeze against her. It was the first time Reina had ever had someone stand so close to her and appear completely unaffected by her quirk; it was a strange thing for her to experience. The realization took Reina by surprise--somehow, it felt significant in some way. All she could do was meet Nori's close gaze, struck by a measure of quiet awe by the whole situation. She tried to keep her mind from focusing on exactly how close Nori was to her, but she still felt her cheeks and ears slowly flushing pink.
“I challenge you to a game."
With her heart beating too quickly, she listened intently to Nori--her expression and tone commanded attention, but it's not like Reina wouldn't have hung on to her words if that wasn't the case. In Reina's mind, there was no refusing Nori, even before she said she wouldn't be taking no for an answer to her bet. Reina nodded quickly, as if scared that Nori would take back her words.
"O-okay," was all she dared to say.
If Nori was trying to motivate and settle Reina's worries, she was succeeding, to say the least.
Reina's widened eyes finally began to narrow, an expression of quiet determination beginning to replace any uncertainty. She nodded slightly again, more to herself this time. The last person she wanted to see go was Nori... and, well, the promised reward was more than a little appealing. She stuck her hands back in her pockets as she did what she could to fight back the dumb smile that was trying to force itself onto her lips.
BGM
"Um, thank you, Nori," she said with that subdued smile, glancing towards the girl. She paused before adding "I... I'll make sure you won't have to take my place."
The first step Reina could think of to not get any votes: at least act like she belonged, despite whatever she may have thought of herself. She'd focus on fixing her weaknesses once she got through this.
That was what Nori wanted to hear, confidence and determination; Reina would turn into a formidable opponent if she kept this up, and that excited Nori.
But before she could further her interaction, Boro spoke up; he was asking for volunteers and it was the perfect opportunity for Reina to doubt herself again, so Nori instinctively looked at her.
Even before Nori's motivation, Reina had banished the thought of ousting herself. There was no chance she was going out like that now. Feeling Nori's gaze on her, she glanced over at the girl to confirm the thought, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Though she looked away again quickly, it was clear by her expression that Nori had nothing to worry about.
"I'm assuming he means volunteers to leave the program," she said with a shake of her head. "I think that'd have to count as a loss for me, so... not happening." The reserved but genuine smile that Nori seemed to constantly elicit from the girl played on her lips again.
Nori couldn't help but return the smile, she was happy that Reina was taking the challenge seriously. But that Boro, he was pro-actively trying to get rid of the weak and doubtful minds without even giving them a chance to develop themselves. It was a cruel thing to do, especially after sending an invitation that gives them hope. It annoyed Nori more than she'd like to admit, enough to spiral her into action.
"Hey Reina, Fenrir; cover your ears." Nori said softly yet a bit agitated, she inhaled deeply, closed her pores and with all her might released as much air out of the pores as she could muster. The result was a screeching whistle emitted from every part of her skin that was uncovered, and it should get everyone's attention.
Reina blinked in curiosity at Nori's command, but followed it without much hesitation--blinking again in amazement and disbelief as the loud whistling took over the noise in the room.
"Boro! What is your problem? Aren't you supposed to be our teacher? What does it take for you to get serious? You know what, I'm annoyed by your attitude-" Nori spoke quite loudly, and in her agitated state, emotions took over as she pointed a finger towards Boro, "I challenge you to a duel! If I lose, I instantly get all the votes, but if I win... you let everyone stay!"
Reina tensed up as the girl addressed Boro as she did. As the initial shock wore off, she found herself having to fight back a small laugh--seeing Nori getting heated was captivating. The confidence she had been demonstrating since the moment they had met shone through brightly, mixed with only a little bit of endearing brashness.
Reina's quiet giggles subsided at the mention of a duel, her eyes widening as uncertainty mixed with her amused expression. While she echoed Nori's sentiments, a fight with Boro seemed like maybe not the best of ideas at the moment. Nori had very likely saved Reina from removing herself from the program, so... maybe she could manage to help the girl in return, in a smaller way.
Her hand reached out, fingers gently tugging on the base of Nori's shirt as a way to help rein the other girl in without making too much of a show out of it. She took a half-step forward, looking from the two who had volunteered themselves--a black-haired boy and a... plant-girl, judging by her voice--to Boro himself.
"Why... are you wanting to kick some of us out already?" she asked him, managing to look him in the eyes. "Is it something Tumble asked you to do? What's the purpose of it?" The girl assumed the reason was along the lines of weeding out any who were obviously not hero-material, but it seemed unnecessarily harsh to do that so soon. They were all kids, and they were all still growing--making such quick judgments on them as they were just seemed unfair. She wanted to hear Boro's own thoughts on the whole thing... and, hopefully, distract him from getting too bent out of shape about Nori's challenge. | This is a picture of what he would look with his quirk, as illustrated by person who has the quirk to draw what people would look like if they was quirkless. He has dog-like ears and a tail, which are covered by the same blonde hair as his head, except the tips are a dark black color. His right eye is blue, where his left eye is golden. He typically wears a hoodie with the hood down, and blue jeans with sneakers, even for formal events when he can get away with it. The only time he will pull the hood up is when he is trying to not be recognized. He does not actually have any piercings.
Jason "Fenrir" Williams
Male
17
Fenrir usually has an air of uneasy calmness, usually be sarcastic and abrasive but not necessarily anti-social. He is quick to anger, but hard to goad into a fight unless someone else attacks him first, at which point it is hard to separate him from whoever he is fighting.
Despite clearly having the features of a common dog, Fenrir insists that he has the features of a wolf. However, whenever referred to as a dog, his reaction is typically more annoyed than angered. When someone tries to insult him by calling him a dog, or something to the effect, he usually retorts in a smug manner.
He has very little care for social etiquette, wearing informal clothing to formal events, eating very messily, sometimes tearing into raw meat in public places.
Fenrir was born in the US. His mother disappeared shortly after giving birth to him. After his months disappearance, him and his father moved to Japan. His father tried to be a good father, but was often busy at work and was always emotionally distant.
At the young age of 15, he ran away and joined a small street gang and gained a new father figure in the form of the gang leader, who was in his late fourties. Two months ago, the leader who goes by the name Loki, was accused of super villiany. In order to avoid having the gang being dragged down with him, he turned himself in.
One month ago, Fenrir left the gang out of both frustration that no one else even tried to help their former leader, and that he hated the person who took over the gang, believing him to be a "Slimy, cowardly, greedy rattlesnake."
He has recently joined Tumble willingly, believing that he if could become a hero, he can save the only person who ever mattered to him.
Canine Aspects - Fenrir possesses the ears and tail of a german shepherd. In addition, his tongue appears slightly longer and flatter than normal, and his nose has a bit of a dark hue and is slightly wet to the touch. The palms of his hands and feet are more apparently black and slightly thicker and has a leathery texture. In addition, his fingernails form claws.
Due to quirk, he has enhanced smell, taste, and hearing. He is slightly faster and stronger than the average quirkless human, but this enhanced speed and strength is within normal ranges.
His quirk has several weaknesses; he is more easily overwhelmed by strong odors or sounds, and will react in a similar fashion to a dog if he hears a dog-whistle. In addition, he seems easily distracted. It is unknown if this is caused by his quirk, or if this has another cause.
Other canines seem to inherently friendly or at least neutral to him, including non-domesticated canines.
Fenrir is not good at many things, however his time as a gang member did teach him some important life lessons. He is multilingual, knowing three different languages; English, Japanese, and Spanish. And knows how to pick locks. He also knows Morse Code.
Fenrir stormed up to this agency place he heard about, his footsteps loud against the concrete. He took his hand and made a fist, slamming against the side of door to make a hardy knock. He drew back his fist again, and beat against the door.
He put his face against the door of the building. "I know you can hear me. Let me in. I hear you are taking in us street trash and trying to make us heroes or something. I want in." He waited only a few seconds before drawing his hand back again and knock on it once more.
"What, am I am not good enough for this stupid little club or yours. You would be lucky to include this wolf on your team." Once again, he waited about two seconds before once again slamming his hand against the door.
"Are you only taking in the ones you think you can fix? Like the rest of us are broken beyond repair or something." He waited only a few seconds longer, before banging on the door twice.
"I need this. For a frie.. For my father." he said, and before he could knock again, the door opened revealing Tumble. "Huh, didn't think you was a girl. Oh well, were do I sign up?" |
8,209 | 221 | 42 | 1,788 | 448 | "Sh-Shouichi..."
"Good." She said, nodding, her expression still neutral "Work on that. Build confidence. Take speaking classes." She said, before turning to Boro.
Volunteers. Seems things were starting to get intense. Boro was angry and the impatient complaints of the kids were answered. As she waited for Tommy to finish, she got ready to speak up, only to be cut off by Yuki calling Boro's bluff.
"I'll resign instead. Shenmu, you have to take over as team ladies' man, got it? Just steal their hearts."
"Team Ladies' Man?" she said, confused, holding at her cane. "I don't see what you mean..." Her tone sounded a bit annoyed.
"I challenge you to a duel! If I lose, I instantly get all the votes, but if I win... you let everyone stay!"
Now someone was shouting. "Too loud." Shen-Mu said, tensing up. Despite the breach of the sound barrier, however, the challenge interested the young girl. A gamble of sorts involving a duel? Were they really going to have a fight this early?
Looking back to Shouichi, she asked "Who will it be? The one to be resigned? To come here only to immediately leave. I don't know about you. But I didn't come here to immediately turn back." | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,210 | 221 | 43 | 1,774 | 401 | Shou's eye twitched at Shen-Mu's words. His previous sheepishness was gone as he glanced over her briefly. Who do you think you are? Mocking me? Rubbing it in? No one asked you..." Averting his eyes, glaring off, he wanted to relax, but Yuki was still on him for the time being, though he finally let go. Shou let out a sigh of relief as he stepped off, before giving and uncomfortable shudder. Why does everyone have to touch me? This is the worst. Of course, since he went off...
Wait, he resigned from the team too? And now he was facing down Boro. Along with everyone else, it seemed like. Wait a minute...
Ah. Ah! Aaaaah! I'm so stupid! Stupid stupid stupid! Grumbling to himself, he couldn't believe how short sighted he'd been. This whole voting nonsense was probably supposed to test them as heroes or something! And since all these wannabe heroes were so self-sacrificing, everyone was dragging each other back, like crabs in a bucket, even though the only thing outside the bucket was a steep drop. Probably. Besides, if he started whining about wanting to go it'd probably be taken as him being no different from all the hero wanna-
Shrill whistle piercing the room and his thought bubble, once his ears stopped ringing, he clicked his tongue as yet another clamored to the chopping block, or something. Every single thing happening in this room just made Shou want to be anywhere but. He shifted his seating, tempted to just get up and walk away, but Shen-Mu's head turned towards him.
"Who will it be? The one to be resigned? To come here only to immediately leave. I don't know about you. But I didn't come here to immediately turn back."
Raising his head, Shouichi gave Shen-Mu a befuddled look, before shrugging. Eh? She's not being all condescending anymore? Or maybe she is, but she doesn't really sound snippy about it. I don't... But then...he noticed she'd looked towards him. And...her eyes...
...She's blind! Shou realized, jaw dropping in horror. He'd...he'd just shrugged at a girl who couldn't see. Internally cringing himself into a nether realm, he pulled himself back up as he realized he technically hadn't responded yet. Why was the worst thing always happening? But of course, he couldn't come up with anything good to say.
"M-maybe everyone. Th-th-th-this whole th-th-thing is a j-j-j-joke. Hu hu hu..." He capped it off with a forced laugh, only heightening the harshness of his clumsy comment. | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,211 | 221 | 44 | 1,106 | 327 | 🆃🅷🅴 🅾🆃🅷🅴🆁 🅵🅾🆄🆁
After making all four calls, Tumble was left with nothing else to do but contemplate on the plan she had in mind. Unfortunately, what exactly she had thought off had apparently drifted away elsewhere. A significant portion of her enthusiasm had stemmed from the alcohol that had been coursing through her body. Unfortunately, the drunken haze that had been clouding her mind had already began to clear.
Twenty minutes had passed since started making the calls, and the first that had arrived was Leon Woo. Heavy-eyed and weary, he approached Tumble.
"Is there a reason we're meeting in a play park of all places?" Leon asked. Tumble remained idle and did not utter a single word in response. Given her hair slightly obscuring her face, Leon didn't even know if Tumble looked at him or not. Hesitant that he might sound impatient in a way, Leon simply stood there and waited for anything from the heroine that called out to him.
Not long after, another person had arrived at the playground. She was dressed in dirty blue hoodie and plain looking sweats that concealed her shorts and plain t-shirt. Her hood was up and her gym bag was thrown over her shoulder, looking the part of a serious early morning athlete.
"Morning. Kira Nomo, ready for..." she stopped just before the sandbox and glanced down at the infamous Tumble, expressing slight bewilderment. "...anything, Tumble." Her tone trailing off in hesitation at the sight.
Tumble reacted to the young female's words, but not in the way she was expecting. "Five more minutes." she said as her entire body turned to one side, opposite the direction of where both Leon and Kira were. The reason for her behavior appeared quite obvious; was she asleep?
Before either of them could confirm this, appearing worn-out and exhausted was a red-haired, horned female. She paid little attention to the two others who were there and simply walked straight towards to Tumble. With a hint of hesitation trickling from her voice, she spoke. "Are you Tumble?"
A demanding shh came out from Tumble's mouth as she curved her back, bowed her head, and drew up her torso both her arms and legs. The chances of her actually sleeping despite setting this whole thing up was quite likely.
Her behavior was incredibly unprofessional and inconsiderate, but sadly, this wasn't something unusual for Tumble. Aside from her proficiency as a professional, her crudeness and unorthodox portrayal of what a hero should be, were probably the most influential factors that lead her to where she is now.
Aside from the eerie yet pleasant chirping from the crickets around them, and Tumble's snoring, all three trainees-to-be remained quiet, watching Tumble or just contemplating on some thoughts of their own. A decent amount of time passed until the last one had arrived. Cigarette poised in mouth, Murdok's movements didn't cease until he lazily leaned against one of the swing-set poles; not particularly bothered by anyone he spots, or passes.
With hands interlaced behind his head, Murdok began slowly inspecting every individual who was there.
"Well? Lets get on with it..."
Immediately after Murdok had spoke, Tumble sluggishly sat up, scratching her head, further making a mess of it than it was before. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and stretched out the other while letting out a prolonged and satisfying yawn.
"Now that's what I call a nap." She said to no one in particular. Standing up, she took glanced at all four of them, as if she was looking for something.
"Yeah, was totally right" Again, it seemed like she was just thinking out loud. "Let's get straight to the point." Tumble said as she continued to scratch her sand-laced head. "Aside from the four of you, there are ten others who'll be joining us at the agency, but that doesn't really answer the question on why I called you guys here, right?"
Resting both her hands inside the pockets of the coat she was wearing, Tumble's gaze suddenly became more intense as she smirked. "Out of everyone, you lot are the most capable in terms of combat ability. Well, at least that's what your records showed me." Tumble briefly paused as the thought of possibly causing a misunderstanding crossed her mind. Realizing that it was unlikely, she ignored it and continued to speak.
"I'd like to take advantage of that and arrange something involving the four of you. Just think of it as a unique way of socializing with the others."
The reactions that she received were varied. Curiosity and uncertainty were there, but it didn't seem like anyone in particular was against it. Given the nature of what she was going to request from them, Tumble didn't want them to feel coerced in anyway since it kind of defeated its purpose in a way.
"If any you have questions or comments, speak up now before I go into detail." | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,212 | 221 | 45 | 1,749 | 150 | It seems confusion was the word of the day. Leon's question was met with only a reply from the wind, howling quietly in the distance. He rubbed the corner of his eye with his knuckle scanning the area, expecting this to be a test of sorts. Maybe this Tumble was just a decoy and the real one was watching from some sort of vantage point? Although, the point of such a test escaped Leon. Regardless, he was confused about the situation.
He turned his head, hearing someone else approaching. Sure enough, she introduced herself, but before another, more awkward silence could follow yet another girl appeared. Then came the awkward silence. Leon opened his mouth to speak a few times but honestly had no idea what to say. Next was a rather unenthusiastic monkey, posing a much more assertive introduction to the group.
Figuring out what the monkey and the dragon's quirks were was relatively simple. The other girl however, was a mystery. Regardless, it seems the arrival of the fourth member was enough to awaken Tumble. A small smirk grew on his face at the mention of combat prowess. However, the small factoid that he could be one of the most combat experienced in a group consisting of a majority without any combat experience was a factor. Leon chose to assume the other ten were all battle hardened warriors and that he was just a prodigy.
He had no real questions as of the moment. He was interested in what she had planned for the four, but he assumed she would delve deeper into that shortly. If only to fill the silence he spoke up.
"I'm still a bit confused about why we're meeting here of all places." | Leon Woo
Male
17
Leon is somewhere inbetween a loudmouth and a mute. He isn't one to voice his opinion on every little thing, but contributes to conversation when he knows or is interested in a topic. Due to his past experiences looking after his brother, he's grown quite accustomed to trying to keep himself and his friends out of trouble, opting to try and resolve conflict through words rather than action. Quite the oxymoron for a chap who carries a sword about with him you would think. Speaking of, one of the few things that he'd actually get fired up over is his heritage, regardless of how bad a person his father may have been he still carries great pride in his surname and family.
Leon hates to be alone, he just begins to think depressing thoughts when he's left alone for too long. As a result he tries to surround himself with others as much as possible, secretly craving approval without ever showing it. He'll often worry for hours on end about things he said that may have come off as embarrassing or offensive, even if they weren't at all.
Being the son of a high ranking Japanese gang member isn't as easy a life as you think it'd be. Especially when you're only half Japanese. Leon spent the most part of his early life learning how to fight or participate in various other criminal activities, tough love at it's most extreme. His father hardly ever showed affection. The few times he did being well out of sight of other gang members. After his brother was born, this lack of affection only increased, with his father having little time to care for either of the brothers on top of his work and maintaining his tough guy image.
Life continued like this for years, until Leon was about 7. It was at this point a rival gang began encroaching on his father's territory. They were much bigger and much more well equipped so the takeover was a piece of cake. If it had not been for his foolish pride, Leon's father wouldn't have been brutally gunned down before Leon's very eyes.
Life after this was a rush to say the least. Leon's mother had to keep moving in order to evade police or gang capture, with Leon and his brother tagging along with little more than confusion in their possession. Life was tough to say the least. When Leon became of age he got a part time job on top of his schoolwork, attempting to provide for his mother and brother as best he could.
His mother was the one who practically forced him to join Tumble. Believing it was the only way for him to get a proper education and make something of his life. Leon begrudgingly accepted. He'd never thought of himself as a 'hero', but the idea grew on him.
Spin - In layman's terms Leon is able to spin anything he touches. While at first this may sound useless, it is actually rather good for building momentum for thrown objects. Currently, Leon is only able to spin objects in his hands, limiting the size of his available arsenal to anything he can lift. However, he has been tampering with literally spinning the air into balls capable of physical damage. However, he is nowhere near good enough for this to be useful at any distance past directly in front of him. Of course, the more he spins something the faster it begins to move which can result in the skin on Leon's hands and potentially forearms to begin to painfully chip away until he stops spinning said object. Furthermore, concentration is paramount when using his quirk, if he is careless the object could go flying backwards into himself.
Boxing - From a young age, Leon had been trained in the art of boxing. Admittedly, he hasn't done it in quite a while, but the skill still remains to a degree.
Tailoring - Having to sew his own and his brothers clothing over the years has made Leon quite the apt tailor.
Football - Leon isn't too bad at the sport. In fact, his 'keepie-uppie' skills are unmatched by anyone he's yet to meet.
Leon's eyes began to flutter asleep as he lay sprawled out over the dingy sofa he'd grown so accustomed to. As soon as he was asleep, he was awake again, with the shrill shriek of his mother acting as a pseudo alarm clock as she entered the house. She sprinted over to the now awake boy, rubbing his eye with his palm as he slid into a sitting position.
Thinking he was in trouble, Leon quickly began searching his mind for any misdeeds he had recently done and any excuses he could think to move the blame away. Surprisingly enough his mother looked happy, ecstatic even, she clutched a letter in her hand reading it over and over again as if the text would change if she didn't keep her eye on it.
"You got accepted!"
"What?" Asked Leon, still half-asleep.
"By Tumble's agency!" Leon was slightly confused by this revelation. He'd been too preoccupied with school and work to even remember applying, let alone see the letter when he had came home earlier. A small smile grew on his face, it'd been a while since his mother had been this happy.
"Oh yeah, I declined that earlier." He lied, teasing people was fun, especially when they were as gullible as his mother. Speaking of which, a look of unbridled rage had swept across her face as she moved across the room, grabbing a newspaper, rolling it up and proceeding to beat the now laughing, Leon with it under his cries explaining the joke to her. |
8,213 | 221 | 46 | 1,051 | 1,675 | Ruby Lake
From what she could gather where she stood, it seemed to become clearer that the others around her was also people expecting to meet Tumblr. Yet her question was hushed, and Ruby fell obediently silent without really reflecting upon it until a moment later. At that point she wondered why she just obeyed, even if she knew it was rude to talk to someone wanting some peace of mind. However her answer came almost by itself when a Monkey like figure approached, it seemed that Tumblr was waiting for them all to get there which she understood.
Ruby's attention finally fell upon the others, she realized they were all around her age and while that made sense to her she did realize it was about the first time in her life she had met someone outside the four walls she once called home. Maybe it was for the best that she kept silent for a while. When she heard Tumblr mention that they was better fighters than ten others she was quite surprised, she didn't really expect to hear something like that. Ruby wondered what Tumblr could possibly know about her, then again it became clear to her that she had given the lady her phone number.
She didn't know how she could possibly be more combat capable than anyone, she may have trained self defense and all, and be able to breathe fire, but she really didn't have any fighting experience beyond that nor did she know how Tumblr could possibly know it. Ruby doubted that her combat profile would be the first thing to pop up during a search on her name, even her real one would most likely only say she had protected identity like most wealthy people.
However, nobody else knew she didn't have any experience in an actual fight either so she could probably use that to her advantage. And with what looked like pretty confident people around her it wouldn't make her any favor to appear to be shy among them. She sighed as she put on her social mask, and. Then decided that a display of Bravado was probably in order. "If your idea of socializing translates to US fighting the others I have no objections. I have no questions that can't wait until later. " she replied, her voice full of bravado now rather than insecurity.
She still felt quite beat thought, and would rather sleep than do anything. But she didn't really have the luxury of sleeping any longer, and she was getting more awake from the emotions swirling about the situation. | Ruby clothes are usually elegant and black with frills and white quillings, thus resembling elegant gothic lolita fashion. She often wears a red corset beneath with black shoes and red socks.
Rubina Westerville: "Ruby Lake"
Female
16
Self reliant, rebellious and somewhat naughty would probably be some words that you could use to describe her. She's quite fiery, very active, and not really shy as she trained that away ages ago. She can be rather tsudere to people she likes. She's hard working when motivated, and tends to goof off or get bored when she's not.
Ruby is a girl who seeks some excitement and enlightenment in her life as she comes from a strict and sheltered life. Curious about the outside world and the experiences she could gain from not being constantly molded into perfection by various people in her life. She's not unfriendly as she has been taught to be rather well behaved towards others and will try to behave around new people she meets to make a good impression. However, there are times when she needs to just try new things, gain new experiences and just see things for herself.
One could say she's on a path to discovering who she truly is. Is she really the girl her parents want her to be? Or is she someone completely different? Only time will reveal the person she truly is or will grow into.
The daughter of a quite wealthy family, Rubina or 'Ruby' as she prefer being called have been lived a strict and controlled life. While her parents nearly never come home, they still forced their wills of what they liked Ruby to become upon her against her will. Wanting her to become the heir of their legacy they had quite strict ideals of what skills was required achieve that goal. While not being able to force their ideals upon her in person while being away, they kept contact with their servants who in turn carrie out their will. Most of her lifem Ruby have been raised, lectured and taught by servants and private tutors.
However, Ruby grew to dislike most of them as they seemed to have had a square view on what they thought would make a 'perfect girl'. Constant nagging and attempted corrections from her servants in response to her behavior made her grow increasingly resistant as she grew older and smarter. As she started seeing through their behavior, she grew rebellious, doing whatever she liked instead while letting others take responsibility for her actions. During most of her life, there was only one person she really trusted and could relate too, a butler named Jack Lake. He was nice to her and seemed to get her. He earned her trust over the years from her childhood through kindness and compassion. Ruby liked him a lot and continued to do so even as she grew older. He became somewhat of a father figure for her as she didn't see her real father very often and had grown to dislike him.
Being a lone child was quite tough, she had to shoulder whatever her parents tried to put on her, from learning how to act like a proper young lady to satisfy her mothers ideals. To how to run a company, from the ideals of her father. One moment she could be learning how to dance waltz and other dances, another she could be studying economics. It was tiresome, and the only way Ruby really got to vent was during her free time when she took to unleash pent up emotions often through her quirk and physical training. Interestingly enough, one of the few ways Jack helped her was by helping her train in Dragon-Fu, a somewhat combined material arts practice with dragon like abilities added in. He also helped her stretch, and actually helped her practice dancing in a fun way by teaching her that it could be used both in combat and interactions as it was important to be able to move around securely while also having attention on opponents and respond to their moves with her own.
Her young life was pretty much what one would expect, from an early age she was raised mostly by the servants and they became somewhat more of a family to her than what her real one ever was. As a child she hadn't started to dislike anyone just yet, but she had gotten some bad experiences from interacting with her parents.
The older she got, the less people she started to trust, mostly because there was too many folks to listen too and too few she could really relate with and feel like she belonged. They treated her as a little princess, and while they spoiled her, they also required a lot from her in return. Ruby learned that her parents thought they could just buy her affection if needed, but the older she got, the more she realized that they didn't realize how smart she was becoming.
The biggest moment in her life was probably when she started developing her quirk. She started growing horns and wings, suddenly turning more dragon like. It was difficult at first getting used to it, and she often accidentally sat fire to something which she ended up getting scolded for. As she grew, so did her appetite. She turned into somewhat of a glutton, wanting food very often, so much her servants thought she was going to get fat. Since it was 'unladylike' to eat a lot, they tried to restrict her.
It was another factor that made her stop liking most of the people around her. She started sneaking into the kitchen to grab whatever she could find. The chef however caught her, and wanted to teach her a lesson by putting out red hot chili peppers on the table, something to make her regret eating it. However, it turned out that it backfired as Ruby loved the taste of them; having a breath that literally could set things on fire, spicy things were nothing but treats and candy to her.
Growing into a teenager puberty would hit at some point. The spur of growth and development would be a time where she would wreck down all the foundations of her past life and test all limits. It was a time of big change, one that would make her into the girl she is today. From learning more advanced things to turning from a rather 'obedient' girl to a rebellious teenager.
Learning how to fight, how to lead, how to dance, and how to do difficult calculations. She grew more and more self reliant, trusting only Jack whom she shared just about all her teenage problems with. From the really embarrassing stuff to fun and games. She was just glad to have him around.
Little Dragon:
Little Dragon is a quirk that grants Ruby characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Mostly shown by the illustration above, Several parts of her body are diffusely covered in a layer of tough scales. These protect her from most physical hazards and provide resistance to fire. The claws Ruby possesses are very sharp, allowing her to cut into things if she want too. Her wings are slightly smaller than that of a fully grown dragon, but these still allow her to fly or glide over short distances and heights.
While labeled as a strong quirk by some, it is not without its weaknesses. The traits that Ruby received are more complementary and do not provide any boost in her physical capabilities. Although not that obvious, Ruby doesn't posses more strength or endurance than a normal girl her age. And despite the resilience provided by her scales, not all parts of her body are protected by it, giving her several vulnerable areas that could be used against her. Lastly, sustained flight or a prolonged, steady stream of fire aren't things Ruby is capable off. Well, at least for now.
Dragon-Fu: Basically a mixed material art formed with dragon parts added. She was taught this mostly from Jack Lake who knew a lot about martial arts, through a lot of training, and by seeking out the knowledge of how to advance it.
Gluttony of Spices Ruby is very found of anything spicy; from red hot chili peppers to whatever else is considered as 'super hot'. Being able to literally breathe fire, she is resistant to heat and almost complete immune to spicy food. She does however really like the taste of it.
Dancing: Not a skill she's technically found off, but she can dance really well because she was forced to take learn it, the only one that could make her like doing it was Jack when he said she could use it to learn how to fight better becuase it gave mobility skills and the ability to read others.
It all really started on a rainy Monday, with black and gray filling the sky. Rain was beating towards the roof like small nails falling from above and Ruby was extra sulky because she couldn't go outside. While rain was not dangerous to her she din't like the cold rain, nor was she technically allowed too go outside either, but there was few things except for chains that could stop her if she really wanted too. It hadn't been a bad day, but Ruby was in a foul mood anyway. She was just getting tired of being locked up, locked in and forced to become a princess. Most of her life she had never really left the estate, only gone outside to play in the yard as a child or go for walks in the sun. Of course, there was those occasional moments when she got into a car to get driven to an airport or wherever her parents sent her.
Between starring out car windows, airplane windows, reading or watching television about it, Ruby had hardly ever seen nature in its full beauty. It was what made her feel trapped inside, A feeling fueled quite a bit by herself too since she probably could have run away if she wanted too, but there was a wide unknown world outside.
Tapping on her computer that she at least was allowed to have, Ruby checked the various pages and news that she used too. An article about heroism and heroes that popped up on the front page drew her attention as usual; various heroes performing large deeds so that people like herself could live a normal boring life. Ruby was jealous of them, they could be out there in the heat of the moment, fight crime and whatever. And here she sat, bored to death by the weather, and freaking starving since dinner hadn't been served yet.
A few more clicks got her to a forum which she used to rant, she found herself often writing about her daily troubles without revealing who she was or what they technically was about. Using her username "Red_Lake". She had just wrote a short rant "Ugh... I wish I could be a Hero, and not need to sit through one other of Bob's lectures about social classes of old... who the Fluff cares if there was peasants and nobility in the past?... its not that much different today... what I wouldn't give to go camping in the mountains, get a soda, and just live a life outside four walls for once... sorry for ranting as usual" she wrote, and then laid back on her bed to stare at the roof.
Her eyes trailed around as she laid there on her back with wings spread to the side, her hair was somewhat getting in the way of her face as she had laid down suddenly, but she merely let a the back of her right hand rest on her forehead before slowly sliding down on the pillow behind, her left was on her belly. The idle sound of her tail scraping against the bed filled her ears, yet she just closed her eyes for a moment to rest. Suddenly however she stirred from the sound of a message popping up on her computer screen. For a second she groaned that she forgotten to turn the sound off again, but she lazily shifted to the side and looked to the screen.
"There's a someone that can show and teach you how to be a hero"-it was from an unknown sender.
The message in the screen was burning into Ruby's eyes, at first she thought nothing off it. Was it a joke or just someone trying to really make her feel better? No matter she decided to not leave it unanswered and replied "Like how? Not like you just go and become a hero or something. Besides, four walls you know. " she replied.
It was silent for a while.
She then received another message here's a -Link- if you don't believe me"-the same person replied
Ruby looked to the message and idly stroked the link with her cursor to read the destination while pondering over if she should click it or not. She didn't want to end up somewhere weird or get viruses or something, after all she didn't need the extra trouble or end up loosing her computer. Figuring she might as well, she clicked the link and ended up with information about Tumble. She spent a good while there, reading up, checking sources and when she was done, she was not dissatisfied.
A few days more passed and Ruby eventually got fed up with everything. Eventually she couldn't stand being locked up anymore. Thus when the weather cleared she headed outside before taking to the sky. She let the winds guide her as she went to seek out Tumble, wherever she may be.
As for what she aspires for, Ruby dreams of making a name for herself in the world rather than following the strict path carved by her parents or ride on any wave they have created. It was because of this she made somewhat of an alias for herself. Ruby Lake, she called herself, because Ruby being a nickname she preferred over 'Young lady' which she had heard too many times. And the last name Lake, mostly because she often wish that Jack Lake would have been her father instead so she wouldn't have to go through all the bull crap just to live a good life. |
8,214 | 221 | 47 | 1,289 | 184 | Jake laughed at the smoky arrow being pointed at him and then came Tommy then Nori. Everyone was shouting and commenting on the vote so Jake put his two cents in so to speak. "Hey guys why vote at all? If all of us refuse to vote then no one gets voted off. It's simple really but a duel would be awesome to watch. Anyone got popcorn and I get to duel the winner!!!" A ear to ear grin swept across Jake's face as he said that last bit.
He then walked back to Yuki "so since we've both resigned why don't we just be loners we don't need to be in a group to work together. Also I've got $10 on Boro and the next fight is mine." Jake then started stretching and proceeded to break one of his ring fingers and sighing in pleasurable relief. He then turned to Shenmu "The devil was cast out by the ones he loved most because he couldn't love complete strangers and sinful ones at that over his own father his own family. So in turn he helps those cast out by others no matter there sins or personalities. He takes all those in that heaven permits not good enough and teaches them of pain and sin in turn teaching them how to live life without fear of being judged by others or fear of life itself."
Jake then smiled "The devil smiles upon those god frowns, for he to has been banished for love and cast out, He takes you in no matter your sin, for he is the embodiment of the fire within." | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,215 | 221 | 48 | 695 | 383 | After that first wild ride of a greeting, Shuko really shouldn't have been surprised when Tommy pulled her into a hug. The boy's personality shone out like a beacon, as if his small body just couldn't contain so much warmth and energy at once, the excess spilling over and flooding into the world through his movements and speech. A sudden embrace was only natural, for him.
On the other hand- how long had it been, since anyone outside of her family had shown her affection like that? How long had it been since she'd accepted it?
Her arms gingerly closed around him, for just a moment, and she made an effort to give him a small smile as they separated. "I don't mind. Anyone would be thrown off balance by a day like this." Her hand fell smoothly into his, and she kept pace behind him, barely needing to be pulled. It felt easier, letting him take the lead.
When he released her, Shuko's hand fell straight back to her side.
The plant girl- Akemi -was utterly adorable, and Shuko quietly imagined herself stepping forwards and simply burying herself in those soft vines, just as Tommy had done. She stood back, however, and let him handle the introductions, her only contribution a small wave as he indicated her to Akemi. It was sweet, watching the excited boy ramble on with effervescent optimism, setting aside the manners and rules of adults for a simple, innocent approach.
Almost too innocent.
Who really behaved that way, blurting out everything in their head to complete strangers? An easy way to overwhelm people, to put them off balance or off guard. An act, carefully tailored to induce an impression of harmlessness and endear oneself to a mark, setting up future opportunities to take advantage of-
Stop. He was a kid. Younger than her, even.
She broke out of her thoughts just in time to catch him looking over at his bags, and deftly stepped between him and them. "Don't worry, I'll get those for you." Giving him no time to launch into another monologue, she walked briskly but quietly towards his bags, carefully picking them up once she got there.
For a short while, this took her away from the center of attention, away from where the students were gathering as Boro asked for volunteers. An excuse, in a way, to keep her from stepping up. She let the babble of the other conversations fade into the background, and focused on the smoke still hanging around them. What was it made of, how did it work? She watched it, idly playing with numbers as they came up, while she retrieved Tommy's bags and moved to return them to him, in no particular hurry.
By the time she'd done so, the others were already crowding around Boro, confronting him with voices loud and small. Shuko stayed silent, watching with wide eyes and a growing sense of dread. It was only when the devil guy had started ranting about sins that she slipped in among them and spoke, her voice quiet and wavering.
"Please, let's- let's not fight." She was trembling just a little, not looking anyone directly in the eye. "We came here to learn to be better, didn't we? Mr. Boro, I'm sorry." Here she glanced at him, a slight gleam at the edges of her eyes, and cast her vote.
"None of us deserve to be here."
Her eyes dropped to the ground, as if in shame. "None of us would be, if not for Tumble."
Inwardly, she wondered if anyone had even heard her. | Shuko Toma
Female
16
Shuko's a daydreamer, a girl who always seems to have something going on in her head. In the right situation, she's both imaginative and thoughtful, but the frenetic pace of life often pushes her to retreat into herself rather than fully express these qualities. She's disorganized, even careless, with untamed hair and a disjointed, eclectic fashion sense that never seems to quite click. A textbook introvert, she feels nervous around other people and somewhat inept socially, a flaw that she despises in herself but has little idea how to correct. She's quiet and very obedient, to the point where it's almost too easy to push her around- a weakness which has proven dangerous of late.
For most of her childhood, Shuko was raised by a single father. She doesn't remember her mother nor where the woman went, and has learned not to broach the subject with her remaining parent. Her dad has always been fair and affectionate, but he's also had to work full-time while trying to care for a child, and though the familial love is there, the situation has created something of a disconnect. Sensitive to the stress her parent was under, Shuko has always done her best to avoid sharing problems with him- but the lack of conventional family dynamics and her somewhat introverted nature left her with nobody else to go to.
Academically, she performed incredibly well during her earlier years, especially once her Quirk emerged and began to develop. Her potential was noted by important figures, and it became a source of pride for her. Unfortunately, it was also noted by her peers. Shuko was marked as a target for bullying and harassment, a situation only exacerbated by her apparent inability to fight back. Rather than seek help from authority, she withdrew further, hiding her talents and doing her best to escape unwanted attention. It worked, to some extent, but as a result her marks dropped down to just above average, and Shuko was still plagued by a bad reputation among her fellow students. Cut off even further, she found some solace in art and literature, as well as her Quirk- the one thing about herself that she still valued.
So when she was approached by a business that had noted her early talents and wanted to hire her for part-time work, she jumped at the chance. The job was easy enough: someone wanted her to manage and distribute funds, a task that was easily accomplished with her Quirk. Once her employers had taught her the basics of what they wanted her to do, she played her part perfectly, taking home a decent salary for relatively light hours and enjoying the opportunity to use her talents to their fullest, even if she was working largely behind the scenes. It seemed she'd finally found herself a place in the world.
Then the police came knocking at the door.
As it turned out, the "business" that had recruited Shuko was of the less-than-legitimate variety, and had exploited her number-crunching ability to help manage illegally obtained funds, turning money into more money through both simple investment and various financial loopholes. She'd been a completely unwitting accomplice to a number of serious crimes, and was dragged into court with little but her own testimony to defend her.
In the end she was found innocent, in part because nobody could believe such a harmless girl could possibly be a cunning criminal. Still, her sense of stability was shattered, she'd missed weeks of classes while on trial, and her bad reputation was soured still further. The law might have let her go, but rumors spread relentlessly among teachers, students, and even her father's colleagues. Surrounded on every side by whispers and suspicion, she shut down entirely. No more school, no more friends, no more life. She'd failed. She was done.
It was her father who pushed her towards an alternative. Shuko didn't know much about Tumble, or particularly care, but it was this or the psych ward. Becoming a hero was a foolish dream, but at least the attempt might earn her some form of redemption.
Calculator - Shuko is a genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to her senses and memory: she can identify the exact dimensions of an object at a glance, and can perfectly recall numbers and measurements, juggling hundreds of digits in her head with little need for pen or paper. This often works at a subconscious level with few visible effects, but when she puts it into intensive use the blood flow to her brain massively increases, causing the veins in her neck and face to bulge outwards.
Unfortunately, this excellent memory doesn't extend beyond mathematics: she forgets non-numerical concepts easily unless reminded. She can remember the width of someone's eyes down to the millimeter a year after having met them, but will likely forget their name within a minute. Additionally, she has trouble concentrating on ordinary tasks or situations. Everything around her offers numbers for calculations that her mind performs almost instinctively, and it's often hard for her to keep track of the real world, especially when her quirk is under heavy use.
Artist - One of the few ways Shuko can fully express herself is through drawing and painting. She's not good nor renowned enough to be featured in galleries, but is still noticeably talented for a high school student. She's also a decent pianist.
Animals - She's pretty bad with people, but gets along well with animals. They seem to like her, and she's patient and gentle with them in return.
Endurance - Shuko has never been one for sports, but she does exercise somewhat. Her build is slight, and she's still pretty weak in terms of lifting strength, but she can keep up a moderate level of physical activity for hours if necessary.
The rachis, or shaft, of a flight feather branches along its length into hundreds of barbs, often of asymmetrical length but always aligned on opposite sides of the rachis. In turn, the sides of each barb are layered with tiny barbules...
Shuko's eyes moved slowly and silently over the page, picking out each word with dazed indifference. She'd been staring at her book for over an hour now, sometimes reading, sometimes logging the heights and widths of the printed letters and noting their individual surface areas. Didn't matter which, really. It was something to do, something to lose herself in for a little while longer.
She shifted slightly, blinking as she realized she'd reached the end of a page, then deftly turned it over.
...many of which are in turn covered by minuscule hooks. These allow the barbules to interlock with one another, forming small connections which hold the barbs together, effectively forming a single cohesive surface...
She was idly adding up the areas of each punctuation mark in the last two sentences when a noise caught her attention. A footstep, someone entering the room. Its exact volume in decibels popped up somewhere in the midst of her thoughts as she turned around, staring through overlarge glasses at her father.
She should say something. Her mind grasped for ideas, clawing desperately at anything she could shove through her mouth to break the silence. A few incoherent syllables were bundled together and shoved up her throat, and she blurted out, "I'm-"
Just as her father opened his mouth to speak. "There's-"
Their words collided, waves of sound overlapping and causing a dozen separate calculations to spark off in Shuko's head. They both stopped. Then her father gestured, indicating that she should go first.
She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It was nothing. Please, go on."
He paused for a second, as if hoping she'd change her mind, then nodded. "There's a letter for you. I know you... that you need some time right now, but I think you need to read this. It's not the kind of opportunity that comes often."
He was trying to pique her interest, she could tell. He failed. Still, when he held out a neatly folded sheet of paper, she took it. Shuko didn't care who had written it or what it said, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Not again, not after everything that had happened.
It was clean, neat, official. She unfolded it carefully, letting her eyes drift over it, if only for the sake of formality.
Then her gaze sharpened. She blinked, narrowed her eyes, then sped up, racing through each sentence with a growing disbelief. For the first time since everything had broken down, she felt something, a hint of drive beneath layers of despair. Curiosity. True or not, what was on this page didn't make sense. She turned it over and over in her mind, thoughts churning and sparking and wondering at this new mystery.
Who was the hero Tumble? If she was a big shot like it sounded, why had she gone looking for Shuko? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with her, let alone think that she could become a hero?
She stood up, letting her book fall from her hand as she clutched at the letter with the other. Was it a blessing? A stroke of luck? Another failure just waiting to happen? She didn't know- but it was something, and something was better than letting time drift away without hope.
She looked back at her father. "I think... I'd like to try it."
They left the room together. Behind them, the book lay open, unfinished.
...which presses against the air, generating lift and allowing the bird, so ungainly on land, to take flight, and soar upon the winds.
- She's far-sighted, and will have trouble making out anything within six feet without glasses.
- She often carries around a small notebook to sketch in. |
8,216 | 221 | 49 | 1,106 | 327 | 🆄🅿🅳🅰🆃🅴
As soon as he finished talking, Boro was met with a smirked face from Yuki who apparently was giving him quite the glare. "I'll go."
Boro's ears had twitched upon hearing Yuki's words; he knew immediately that a misunderstanding had taken place, but before he could clear things up, someone else stepped in.
"Oho, yes. That's me for one. I came on behalf of the Yuki's group." Akemi said as she pointed back with one of her vines. She looked back at him, seeing Yuki's conviction. ".. Of course, yes, I'll gladly step in for any group that still requires a tribute. Honestly, I'd reckon I have the least potential here, as far as powers, for a hero. That's what you were asking for, yes?"
His ears had twitched a second time. Boro wasn't sure whether he was being difficult to understand, or was everyone just trying to mess with him. Either way, his patience was definitely being tested. He took a deep breath as an attempt to calm himself down, but mid-inspiration, a shrill whistle pierced his ears, causing him to shudder.
"Oh god, what now?!" Instinctively covering his ears, Boro immediately turned to Nori, face winched and teeth partially clenched.
"Boro! What is your problem? Aren't you supposed to be our teacher? What does it take for you to get serious? You know what, I'm annoyed by your attitude-" Nori spoke quite loudly, and in her agitated state, emotions took over as she pointed a finger towards Boro. "I challenge you to a duel! If I lose, I instantly get all the votes, but if I win... you let everyone stay!"
The surprises that day kept on coming, but unlike the previous few, this one was actually something Boro approved of. "Finally!" Not exactly what he was looking for, but someone with a little confidence, who actually wasn't clueless, finally appeared. Boro's grimace soon vanished and was replaced by a smile. Nori's words had put him into a good mood; they were like a breath of fresh air to him.
Boro's hand began to experience tremors as he reached into his pocket. His prior agitation, hastily turned into excitement. One would think that this sort of transition was more ideal, but Boro was a special case and this would only cause his previous habits to resurface. Pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, he had no choice but to calm himself down.
"Why... are you wanting to kick some of us out already?" Reina had suddenly asked him, managing to look Boro in the eyes. "Is it something Tumble asked you to do? What's the purpose of it?"
Boro softly glanced at Reina before thin streams of smoke billowed from his mouth. With his shoulders loosening up, he managed to start relaxing and clearing his thoughts. His previous method seemed ineffective; I guess he expected too much from them.
"M-maybe everyone. Th-th-th-this whole th-th-thing is a j-j-j-joke. Hu hu hu..." One after another, they continued. Boro turned towards Shouichi as he laughed. After hearing his assessment of the situation they were in, he was fairly certain that whatever it was he had planned, wasn't working at all.
This would most likely leave Reina and Nori unpleased, but Boro just disregarded their questions and left them unanswered. Instead, he quietly contemplated on the ideas he observed from everyone so far. Self sacrifice, backing down when needed, standing by your ideals, and turning to optimism when faced with difficulty; all were values every hero needed, there was no denying that, but that wasn't what he wanted to see.
"Hey guys, why vote at all? If all of us refuse to vote then no one gets voted off. It's simple really but a duel would be awesome to watch. Anyone got popcorn? And I get to duel the winner!!!"
Boro signed heavily before inhaling through the cigarette held against his lips another time. Boro couldn't even find it in himself to get upset anymore. Not too long ago, he was no different from the ten that stood around him; he knew how it felt like to be in the position they were all in. It was frustrating to see them repeating the same mistake he did, but he couldn't blame them.
"I guess I was wrong then." Boro shrugged his shoulders, as he exhaled; the fumes that had been swirling inside his lungs dragged itself to the outside, escaping through his mouth and nostrils.
Although quiet and wavering, a gentle voice had managed to get Boro's attention. Free of any unease, Boro gave off a vibe of positivity, despite appearing a bit uninterested in a way.
"Please, let's- let's not fight." Shuko was trembling just a little, not looking anyone directly in the eye. "We came here to learn to be better, didn't we? Mr. Boro, I'm sorry." Here she glanced at him, a slight gleam at the edges of her eyes, and cast her vote. "None of us deserve to be here."
Averting his gaze away from Shuko, Boro seemed to have heard enough. In his mind, he had a fair understanding of the group and didn't care to go on any further. It looked like nothing they've said so far satisfied him.
Shuko was probably unaware of how Boro was reacting to her words as her eyes dropped to the ground, as if in shame. "None of us would be, if not for Tumble."
And their it was. Just when he was about to give on the group, he was proven to be wrong. Boro let out a faint chuckle before turning his back to everyone and walking away. A few years back, until he came across Tumble, he was a nobody who despised the world around him. If it weren't for the opportunity that was offered to him, Boro would have already ended his life. The amount of gratitude he felt for Tumble was immeasurable, but he never told or showed her that. It wasn't because he lacked the chance to do so; it was just due to his pride.
This was his only regret and Boro didn't want history to repeat itself; at least not on his watch. Fortunately, it seemed like he didn't need to worry that much after all. Unlike him, they weren't alone. As of now, knowing that Shuko was with them, was enough for him.
As he proceeded to walk away from the group, the encasement that surrounded them gradually lost its rigidity, losing its shape and spreading throughout the confines of the building.
"Shuko, right?" Boro called out as he slowly vanished into the cloud of smoke. "Just believe in Tumble." His voice echoed before completely fading out.
It took just over a minute for all the smoke to have disappeared, and as expected, Boro was nowhere to be found. Now allowed to take a good look at the actual insides of the agency, it was surprisingly plain. The lobby was fairly large, but aside from that, it was nothing special.
Leading past it was a corridor - equally as plain - that brought them to the briefing room, where a large oval table awaited. And seated at the head of the table, in all her glory, was Tumble. Well, in her current state, she wasn't as glorious as one would have imagined.
She was asleep with both her head and arms resting atop of the table in front of her. A bit of saliva was trickling from her mouth; some appeared to have already dried. Her hair was untangled and unkempt. The blouse she wore was halfway from being fully unbuttoned. She was missing a shoe. And although faint, the scent of alcohol was definitely noticeable. First impressions were never Tumble's strong point anyway.
🆃🅷🅴 🅾🆃🅷🅴🆁 🅵🅾🆄🆁
"I'm still a bit confused about why we're meeting here of all places." Leon was the first to speak up.
Tumble gave off a glare as she heard the question addressed to her. Honestly, Tumble was aware that this was her mistake and it was embarrassing, but she didn't feel like explaining, it was too much of a hassle. Before she could decide though, Ruby had spoken.
"What? The park is a central enough location; large open space easily found on the map and in the city. Sounds like a strategic choice to meet at."
It would have been easier to simply agree with what the dragon girl had said, but that wasn't how Tumble did things most of time. Since she took on the responsibility to straightening these kids out, she had to become more accountable for her actions. It was annoying, but that was the least she could do.
"I had a couple of drinks." She scoffed at the young man while trying to maintain a straight face. "You can probably figure out the rest ."
Before any unwanted uneasiness could build up, a gruff voice had suddenly interjected. "Get to the point." Obviously Murdok didn't have much else to say, wishing to carry on.
It appeared Ruby thought the same way. "If your idea of socializing translates to us fighting the others, then I have no objections. I have no questions that can't wait until later." she replied, her voice full of bravado now rather than insecurity.
Kira frowned as the others remarked on the unprofessionalism of their supposed teacher. Of course, Kira had similiar greviances, but seeing as Tumble was already a bit uncomfortable, she opted not to speak about those. Though she did feel fairly good about being remarked as 'more capable'. "Fight them how? Just a straight brawl?"
Honestly, Tumble was relieved with how things were going; this just meant that it was less work for her.
"I never said anything about a fight. Like I said earlier, its...uhmm...socializing" Tumble knew she could do better than that, but based on how things were turning out, it didn't look like she had to.
"Listen up. I'm not gonna repeat myself." She wasn't talking to anyone in particular.
"This'll be a chance for everyone to show off." Turning around, Tumble took a few steps backward, reaching for her bag and pulling out what looked to be printouts. She approached the closest one to her - Kira - and before tossing her the papers.
"The only difference, you're gonna one up 'em." What Tumble gave them were summarized reports on all the fourteen individuals that were invited and accepted to join the agency.
"So yeah. Get back to me after an hour." Tumble was proud of herself as her skills of delegation seemed to be on point. It was just right that she rewarded herself with a well deserved nap.
Ruby looked to the others, in an instant it had been decided and these three teens around her age had suddenly become her teammates. She was honestly too tired to question anything right now, and she was prepared to do just about anything for some sleep. "I'm Ruby, a fire dragon. I breathe fire, I fly, and if this was chess, I would fit the role of the Knight. That's about how I would assume you can best use my skills." she said as she walked up to Kira.
Leon followed, also moving up to Kira and taking a look at the dossier of info given about the individuals accepted onto the program. He was curious to see what his own one read, but that could wait until later. They only had an hour to prepare after all.
"I'm Leon. I make things spin. I ain't played chess, but I guess I'd be the bishop?" He spoke, continuing the chess motif.
Murdok focused and spoke to Tumble. "What exactly are we planning for our opponents? Glorified games of tag are not my cup of tea, Tumble."
Lying on the sandbox - it was cozier than she had expected - with eyes still closed and her back facing the four, Tumble responded to the monkey's question. "Up to you; just go with whatever." She flicked her hand, as if gesturing them to shoo away.
Standing upright, Murdok examined the papers given, taking a bit to even speak again. This time towards his newfound teammates. Specific, key information was glanced over on each file. Thus Murdok may have seemed to be carelessly scanning the information presented.
Occasionally the gaze of Murdok shifted between the papers and comrades. Hearing the speak of capabilities and a bit of chess lingo. An almost goofy grin etched over his previously annoyed expression. "Call me Murdok, nothing else. What you see is what you get. As for board-games. I've got the callings, not to mention agility, of a king. But don't expect me to play nice with others."
The grin shifted to a smirk upon saying king. Only for his tone to get serious immediately after. "But, seriously. Clock is ticking. If we need to take this time to rest, or get supplies, let's get it done. I know I'm thirsty, so would like to solve that within the next hour." Murdok didn't seem to be taking the whole thing seriously. Or he's oddly calm about being in a situation of four versus ten. Another cigarette was then ignited and partaken off. | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,217 | 221 | 50 | 1,788 | 448 | Shen-Mu thought on Boro's words and what everyone was saying. She was just a young blind girl, seeing only what she would focus on with her powers, living in a dusty old boarding house belonging to a friend of a friend of a friend of her father's. Now she was all the way here with the chance to be a hero. She'd still be cramped up in that room right now if it wasn't for that letter. "The devil smiles upon those god frowns, for he to has been banished for love and cast out, He takes you in no matter your sin, for he is the embodiment of the fire within." said Jake. Shen-Mu wondered to herself: Just maybe, could those words be applied to Tumble?
But soon, she snapped back to attention as Boro cleared the room, and everything was made clear. He's gone? She said, as Boro disappeared. He was just gone. Now, her ability could be used in full effect, with no smoke interfering with her ability to perceive the world. Looking in the direction of the passed out drunk woman at the table, she hummed, attuning her Radar to "see" the entirety of the room, "Mmmm... Woman of the hour.
Plugging her nose, smelling a hint of alcohol, she noted "A little decency would be nice. No matter... Who should wake her. One of us girls preferably." She said as she moved a little closer. "A man shouldn't wake a girl in such a perverse state." | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,218 | 221 | 51 | 1,774 | 401 | None of us deserve to be here... None of us would be, if not for Tumble.
Shou felt himself wince involuntarily. He felt a pressure on his head as his mind worked to consider her point of view against his. Th-that's not...
But his defense was starting to feel flimsy, as was his seating as Boro removed the metallic smoke he rested against, causing him to flop on his back like a lump. Quickly pushing himself back up as attention shifted to the corridor beyond the lobby, Shouichi was at an impasse. Glancing over to the door outside, where the restless media could very well still be waiting, on the other hand was whatever Boro had in mind for them, probably.
As a few moved that way, Shou was hesitant to simply stand and follow. He kept thinking about what glasses girl said, or rather, how she phrased it.
My parents signed me up for this. That's all there is to it!
But as he repeated that thought, it seemed to echo hollow in his mind. It was quickly becoming apparent how illogical it was: if signing up was the only requirement, then this place would be absolutely packed. Tumble was supposed to be a super popular hero, so...how the hell did Shouichi of all possible people end up here!? It must have been a mistake. His parents just assumed anyone who applied would be accepted... No, his dad wouldn't be so lax.
So...Tumble handpicked all of us...including...ME!? He felt his heart tweak as he tried to come to terms with that thought. How was this the most logical conclusion he could come up with?
Once again he glanced at the door outside, but as he stood, he instead trailed at the back as the group moved along to the corridor beyond. If he couldn't understand why the hell he, a kid with a useless quirk and no drive for anything whatsoever, let alone heroism, was here, then the only one to ask would be...
The slovenly oaf resting on a table that somehow looked more important than her.
Eyes glazing over as his heart tumbled over and turned to stone, he let out a long, low sigh. "A p-p-prank?" he blurted in exasperation, though whether this was the start of a new joke or just the punchline of the last one remained to be seen. | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,219 | 221 | 52 | 40 | 113 | Fenrir had been on his knees desperately trying to cover his ears. It physically hurt, and it hurt a lot. His balance felt a bit off and he had a massive headache, but he had been in worse situations. He got to his feet, and noticed that Boros had left, revealing Tumble.
He got a good whiff of the room, and it already smelled like home. He looked at Tumble, and couldn't help but remember Loki passed out drunk in a similar fashion. He just sighed, leaning against the wall, and muttered to himself I might not have my sanity by the end of this, but I have to do it. I owe him much more than this.
He then stopped, and looked over to Nori and made a noise that almost sounded like a snarl to Nori, "I appreciate you standing up to Boros, but if you decide to make ears bleed again, I don't care if you a male, girl, or whatever. Do that again, and we will need to settle that outside." | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
8,220 | 221 | 53 | 1,010 | 272 | Yuki had watched the whole affair nonchalantly. He was certain he had gotten the right answer.
"so since we've both resigned why don't we just be loners we don't need to be in a group to work together. Also I've got $10 on Boro and the next fight is mine."
"I don't think he was serious. But, tell you what. If he is, we can become outlaws." He said, giving Jake the thumbs up, even as the albino breaking his own fingers made him shudder.. "Alas, though, I don't keep money on me most of the time. If we can do that..." He turned to Boro.
"Oi! Pothead! I'm gonna kick you ass after Jake is done!" He said, pointing to Boro, just in time for the man to disappear. Asshole. Yuki had actually been spoiling for a fight with him. The condescending attitude was pissing him off to no end. As he headed down the hall, he was pleased to see someone who could maybe clear things up for him.
"A man shouldn't wake a girl in such a perverse state."
"Too late~" Yuki said, having already approached the table and started buttoning the blonde's blouse. | Yuki Takamine
Male
15
Yuki comes across as a friendly, outgoing young man, if a bit cocky and arrogant. He likes to fight, and he desires strength above all else, though he's not telling why. Despite his somewhat inflated ego, he's not particularly selfish. He just thinks he's the coolest dude. To be fair, he's very good at keeping his composure. His reactions to most things are very understated. It's not that he doesn't have feelings, it's just that he's not very noisy about them.
Born to a quirkless mother and a father with a minor ice-based quirk, Yuki grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was, as far as Yuki knew, a businessman. He didn't see dad very much, because he was gone most of the time. He mostly just did whatever he felt like, and had no particular goals or ambitions until that fateful day. When he was seven, his mother took him along on an errand to a bank, and it just so happened it was being robbed by a villain. He watched as a person was killed, and he was afraid his mother and him would be next...But then a hero appeared and saved them. Ever since, he wanted to be a hero. He started training his powers, and hoped to be accepted into one of the many hero academies.
He thought his dream had ended when he turned 14, however. His father was arrested. It turned out he wasn't a businessman: He was the supervillain Hypothermia, wanted for several murders. Yuki was now a known criminal element, and it seemed he now had no hope of being accepted into any of the academies.
Then he heard about Tumble...
Freeze Bomb - Yuki holds out his hand, and a perfectly formed ball of what looks like water forms in his hand. It takes about a second. The ball bursts from even a small amount of force: Doing much more than squeezing it will cause it to explode, encasing everything within about 10 feet of it in an inch of ice. It also freezes any water in this area solid. Yuki is not immune to this effect: If he drops one of the orbs, it'll freeze him too. The ice it creates is totally normal, and it can be broken, albeit only with quite a bit of force.
Ice Skating - Yuki is quite agile on ice: He can slide around on it fairly well. No fancy tricks, but he can outmaneuver most people on an icy floor. He doesn't even need skates.
Pitcher - Yuki was in Little League, and he can throw pretty well. This means he can get good range out of his ice bombs.
Hand-to-Hand - Yuki has been in a fair number of fights. He's not amazing or anything, but he can throw a proper punch and probably hold his own in a scuffle. Without his powers, he'd probably lose against a trained martial artist, but not before getting a few good hits in.
Yuki looked over the sheet of paper. It had a list of high schools he'd been accepted into. It was embarrassingly short. Only two. He'd expected as much. He'd never been a good student, and had been hoping to get by on his powers and become a hero. Ever since his father had been arrested, he just hadn't had it in him to keep trying.
"It's not like I have much of a choice. Really, I don't know if I have much of a fut-" He said, then spotted the second name on the list. Huh. So he had been accepted into a hero academy. "Tumble?" He asked, holding the paper in his hand and studying it carefully. A miracle, before his eyes. "Sign me up for this one." He said, nodding.
Nope. |
8,221 | 221 | 54 | 1,522 | 1,025 | Tommy Sparks
Tommy had a look of disappointment as Akemi used her vines to maneuver him to a 'comfortable' distance. Honestly though Tommy would have been comfortable just continuing to lie on Akemi's vines. Maybe pulling Shuko along with him, after all don't they say... ummm 'something something company is better something something hug everyone'?
Well maybe they don't but Tommy sure says something like that anyway. Words to live by. He was about to grab Shuko and do just that, hopefully making a comfy vine pile hug, when everyone started getting really serious about this 'voting people out' business as if it was some kind of reality show they were on. How could Tommy let such a good hugger like Akemi escape so easily?! This guy isn't Tumble, Tommy wasn't here for lung cancer and he wasn't about to let Marl spoil today for him! Then there was the ear piercing shriek of a challenge to Boro that if Tommy wasn't used to the racket of a Pachinko Parlor he might have been more disoriented. Thankfully Tommy had encountered a smart friend called Shuko to group up with.
"Wooo! You tell him Shuko! You're smart. This guy isn't Tumble, so why do we care what he says! He could say something like 'hugs are the worst' or something and I know that's a lie." Briefly hugging Shuko again Tommy squeezed her before breaking away when Boro began his spiel about 'trusting Tumble'. Rolling his eyes Tommy might talk with, work with or even respect Tumble, but trust? Well, trust is something to be earned. Trust is something more precious than gold. Dashing back to grab his bags of 'winnings' Tommy followed the group as they soon found Tumble 'sprawled out' and 'disheveled' being a polite way of describing her appearance.
"A little decency would be nice. No matter... Who should wake her. One of us girls preferably. A man shouldn't wake a girl in such a perverse state." Shen-Mu's voice broke the silence that filled the air at Tumble's appearance. Her words bringing up a small problem.
"Don't worry pretty voice lady, I've got this. Besides, I don't think Tumble would care and it's not the worst state I've seen someone drink themselves into... HEY! No fair!" seeing Yuki going for Tumble's blouse Tommy saw that he couldn't wait any longer. Not giving anyone else a chance to to react Tommy jumped above the table and 'pulled' on the metal framework of the building, soon Tommy was sliding across the table at a fast pace, occasionally getting airborne as he skimmed, turning his body side on as he moved so that he would fall into Tumble's lap if he reached the end. | Tommy Sparks
Male
14
Tommy is a bit of a paradox as he is simultaneously incredibly lazy and clever, mostly being clever enough to find a way to keep being lazy. It's either all or nothing for him. He is a lover once he gets attached to someone he truly and dearly cares for them. It is this tendency to do all he can for those he cares for that gets him in hot water so to speak. He acts younger than his age as a way to lower other people’s guard. Tommy tends to voice his worries and opinions out loud irrespective of others around him, when people take offence he grumpily tells them not to eavesdrop.
Tommy didn’t initially bother with cultivating his quirk as it was more of a hindrance than something good. Deadbeat parents sending him out each day to collect loose change or lost treasures as if they were using a metal detector on a beach. Eventually though he felt frustrated at home, everyone looked twofaced, half-starved Tommy just went out one day and didn’t return. Incidentally Tommy Sparks isn’t his real name. Tommy deliberately forgot his real name to help run from them.
Cultivating an ‘innocent and adorable’ appearance and mannerisms allowed Tommy to get away with a lot, eventually Tommy realised his quirk could be used in a highly profitable way. Namely winning at pachinko. Making little metal balls fall where he wanted? What better way to fine tune control over a quirk? Slowly Tommy began earning a profit by just sitting down in front of a noise maker and having the metal balls land where he wanted. Still a barely 14 year old kid playing pachinko all day? Even the most neglectful person would start to care sooner or later so he eventually just went to a different parlour each day so they all thought he came once a week.
Now with a sizable amount of pocket change, Tommy rented a room in an internet café and then lived out of there, going to a pachinko parlour during the day for ‘work’ to earn some money and then going back to the internet café at night to educate himself online. He had Sunday ‘off’ to go buy clothes and such. With his relatively stable living Tommy eventually just wanted a long comfortable love with people that won’t use him as a walking ATM to withdraw money from.
Pinball Wizard - Tommy has a power loosely connected to magnetism as his quirk. Able to attract and repel any metal object. Tommy can even imitate rudimentary flight, especially in a built up area like a city full of skyscrapers, however in practice it would appear closer to him either swinging from an invisible rope or as if he’s being dragged in a direction.
Currently Tommy’s control and strength of his quirk is a bit low. If Tommy is heavier than the item he’s manipulating, he’ll move it. If Tommy is lighter, he’ll either be pushed or pulled towards it depending on what he’s attempting to do to it. As an example; if Tommy “pushes” a coin into the ground, the coin will fly as fast as Tommy can manage until it hits the ground. Then the force he’s pushing the coin down with will send him upwards. If he tries to “pull” a car, he’ll likely fly towards it instead. If the vehicle was moving he would be better off slamming the brakes on the vehicle than lifting it. Perhaps later with training he’ll be able to manipulate things heavier than him and move things faster.
- Persuasion
- Cooking
- Although it's not photographic, his memory is strong
Tommy was sitting in a pachinko parlour using his quirk to occasionally influence a jackpot, he couldn’t be as blatant as he used to be as the next town over they almost called the cops on him. There was no proof, but being 14 years old and spending all day playing pachinko? Well, it was already stretching it and cops would just try dragging him to school or worse, home. So when he left the pachinko parlour with his bags to toys to exchange for money and was tapped on the shoulder by an official looking woman the fear in his eyes was likely visible.
“Can I help you miss?” putting on his best deer in the headlights look and laying on the sugar in his voice before he was dragged by the ear, bags of toys in hand, all the way to Tumble's agency
Tommy keeps a small fortune in coins on his person ready to use as a makeshift weapon or escape tool with his magnetism |
8,222 | 221 | 55 | 695 | 383 | Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Shuko found herself regretting them. Even if Boro had heard, she couldn't know for sure how he might react, and if things went badly the whole group would end up blaming her for it. It would've been easier to just stay in the background and let events run their natural course. At least that way, whatever happened wouldn't have been her fault.
Then she heard Boro speak her name.
Frightened, she looked up, only to see him walking away, disappearing amidst the thick clouds of smoke that faded away soon after. What? It... was over? He'd left them be, releasing everyone from the prison formed by his Quirk without kicking any of them out.
Perhaps it was just luck, but her gamble had paid off.
Before she got a chance collect herself, Tommy had his arms around her again. His compliment made her smile, along with the sudden realization that she'd actually been right and that she might have just saved everyone from being booted off the program. Part of her felt like pumping her fists in the air and shouting out with relief, but she kept herself restrained, not wanting to look smug about the whole affair.
"Thanks! To be honest, I wasn't quite sure if..." She trailed off, seeing that he'd moved on already. A free spirit, that one. People were tricky, impossible to fully understand though raw calculation, but at least now she'd started to get a sense of how this strange group worked, even if a few individuals remained a mystery to her.
Lagging behind the more adventurous students, she managed to get a quick look past them to the room ahead, where Tumble herself awaited. Her eyes widened, and she blushed a little at the sight.
Whatever she'd been expecting, this wasn't it. There really was no way to put it politely: the so-called hero looked like the kind of woman who'd hang around in dive bars and nightclubs, letting people pick her up and have their way with her. The messy hair and unkempt clothing Shuko could understand and sympathize with, but for their supposed mentor to be completely asleep, not making any effort to present herself well for them, with her blouse in a state like that in front of a group full of teenage boys? What the hell had Tumble been thinking?
The only thing that kept Shuko from freezing up in sheer mortification was the echo of Boro's parting words. Believe in Tumble. This could be a test, or a prank, a plan meant to keep the hero candidates on their toes and gauge their reactions. She couldn't back out just yet, not until she was sure.
Nor could she stand by and let the boys pile onto a sleeping woman like that.
"Wait!" She reached out with both arms, trying to grab Tommy before he went careening off towards the slumbering hero, but he'd already gotten a head start and she only ended up stumbling forwards, painfully banging one hip on the table's edge. "Aaaaah-!" It wasn't serious, but it made her lean over and wince, cutting short any further attempts at dealing with the rowdy boys. Not that she could have done much anyways. Helpless, she could only glance imploringly at the other girls, hoping one of them would be able to intervene before Tumble woke up and realized what was going on. | Shuko Toma
Female
16
Shuko's a daydreamer, a girl who always seems to have something going on in her head. In the right situation, she's both imaginative and thoughtful, but the frenetic pace of life often pushes her to retreat into herself rather than fully express these qualities. She's disorganized, even careless, with untamed hair and a disjointed, eclectic fashion sense that never seems to quite click. A textbook introvert, she feels nervous around other people and somewhat inept socially, a flaw that she despises in herself but has little idea how to correct. She's quiet and very obedient, to the point where it's almost too easy to push her around- a weakness which has proven dangerous of late.
For most of her childhood, Shuko was raised by a single father. She doesn't remember her mother nor where the woman went, and has learned not to broach the subject with her remaining parent. Her dad has always been fair and affectionate, but he's also had to work full-time while trying to care for a child, and though the familial love is there, the situation has created something of a disconnect. Sensitive to the stress her parent was under, Shuko has always done her best to avoid sharing problems with him- but the lack of conventional family dynamics and her somewhat introverted nature left her with nobody else to go to.
Academically, she performed incredibly well during her earlier years, especially once her Quirk emerged and began to develop. Her potential was noted by important figures, and it became a source of pride for her. Unfortunately, it was also noted by her peers. Shuko was marked as a target for bullying and harassment, a situation only exacerbated by her apparent inability to fight back. Rather than seek help from authority, she withdrew further, hiding her talents and doing her best to escape unwanted attention. It worked, to some extent, but as a result her marks dropped down to just above average, and Shuko was still plagued by a bad reputation among her fellow students. Cut off even further, she found some solace in art and literature, as well as her Quirk- the one thing about herself that she still valued.
So when she was approached by a business that had noted her early talents and wanted to hire her for part-time work, she jumped at the chance. The job was easy enough: someone wanted her to manage and distribute funds, a task that was easily accomplished with her Quirk. Once her employers had taught her the basics of what they wanted her to do, she played her part perfectly, taking home a decent salary for relatively light hours and enjoying the opportunity to use her talents to their fullest, even if she was working largely behind the scenes. It seemed she'd finally found herself a place in the world.
Then the police came knocking at the door.
As it turned out, the "business" that had recruited Shuko was of the less-than-legitimate variety, and had exploited her number-crunching ability to help manage illegally obtained funds, turning money into more money through both simple investment and various financial loopholes. She'd been a completely unwitting accomplice to a number of serious crimes, and was dragged into court with little but her own testimony to defend her.
In the end she was found innocent, in part because nobody could believe such a harmless girl could possibly be a cunning criminal. Still, her sense of stability was shattered, she'd missed weeks of classes while on trial, and her bad reputation was soured still further. The law might have let her go, but rumors spread relentlessly among teachers, students, and even her father's colleagues. Surrounded on every side by whispers and suspicion, she shut down entirely. No more school, no more friends, no more life. She'd failed. She was done.
It was her father who pushed her towards an alternative. Shuko didn't know much about Tumble, or particularly care, but it was this or the psych ward. Becoming a hero was a foolish dream, but at least the attempt might earn her some form of redemption.
Calculator - Shuko is a genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to her senses and memory: she can identify the exact dimensions of an object at a glance, and can perfectly recall numbers and measurements, juggling hundreds of digits in her head with little need for pen or paper. This often works at a subconscious level with few visible effects, but when she puts it into intensive use the blood flow to her brain massively increases, causing the veins in her neck and face to bulge outwards.
Unfortunately, this excellent memory doesn't extend beyond mathematics: she forgets non-numerical concepts easily unless reminded. She can remember the width of someone's eyes down to the millimeter a year after having met them, but will likely forget their name within a minute. Additionally, she has trouble concentrating on ordinary tasks or situations. Everything around her offers numbers for calculations that her mind performs almost instinctively, and it's often hard for her to keep track of the real world, especially when her quirk is under heavy use.
Artist - One of the few ways Shuko can fully express herself is through drawing and painting. She's not good nor renowned enough to be featured in galleries, but is still noticeably talented for a high school student. She's also a decent pianist.
Animals - She's pretty bad with people, but gets along well with animals. They seem to like her, and she's patient and gentle with them in return.
Endurance - Shuko has never been one for sports, but she does exercise somewhat. Her build is slight, and she's still pretty weak in terms of lifting strength, but she can keep up a moderate level of physical activity for hours if necessary.
The rachis, or shaft, of a flight feather branches along its length into hundreds of barbs, often of asymmetrical length but always aligned on opposite sides of the rachis. In turn, the sides of each barb are layered with tiny barbules...
Shuko's eyes moved slowly and silently over the page, picking out each word with dazed indifference. She'd been staring at her book for over an hour now, sometimes reading, sometimes logging the heights and widths of the printed letters and noting their individual surface areas. Didn't matter which, really. It was something to do, something to lose herself in for a little while longer.
She shifted slightly, blinking as she realized she'd reached the end of a page, then deftly turned it over.
...many of which are in turn covered by minuscule hooks. These allow the barbules to interlock with one another, forming small connections which hold the barbs together, effectively forming a single cohesive surface...
She was idly adding up the areas of each punctuation mark in the last two sentences when a noise caught her attention. A footstep, someone entering the room. Its exact volume in decibels popped up somewhere in the midst of her thoughts as she turned around, staring through overlarge glasses at her father.
She should say something. Her mind grasped for ideas, clawing desperately at anything she could shove through her mouth to break the silence. A few incoherent syllables were bundled together and shoved up her throat, and she blurted out, "I'm-"
Just as her father opened his mouth to speak. "There's-"
Their words collided, waves of sound overlapping and causing a dozen separate calculations to spark off in Shuko's head. They both stopped. Then her father gestured, indicating that she should go first.
She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It was nothing. Please, go on."
He paused for a second, as if hoping she'd change her mind, then nodded. "There's a letter for you. I know you... that you need some time right now, but I think you need to read this. It's not the kind of opportunity that comes often."
He was trying to pique her interest, she could tell. He failed. Still, when he held out a neatly folded sheet of paper, she took it. Shuko didn't care who had written it or what it said, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Not again, not after everything that had happened.
It was clean, neat, official. She unfolded it carefully, letting her eyes drift over it, if only for the sake of formality.
Then her gaze sharpened. She blinked, narrowed her eyes, then sped up, racing through each sentence with a growing disbelief. For the first time since everything had broken down, she felt something, a hint of drive beneath layers of despair. Curiosity. True or not, what was on this page didn't make sense. She turned it over and over in her mind, thoughts churning and sparking and wondering at this new mystery.
Who was the hero Tumble? If she was a big shot like it sounded, why had she gone looking for Shuko? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with her, let alone think that she could become a hero?
She stood up, letting her book fall from her hand as she clutched at the letter with the other. Was it a blessing? A stroke of luck? Another failure just waiting to happen? She didn't know- but it was something, and something was better than letting time drift away without hope.
She looked back at her father. "I think... I'd like to try it."
They left the room together. Behind them, the book lay open, unfinished.
...which presses against the air, generating lift and allowing the bird, so ungainly on land, to take flight, and soar upon the winds.
- She's far-sighted, and will have trouble making out anything within six feet without glasses.
- She often carries around a small notebook to sketch in. |
8,223 | 221 | 56 | 40 | 113 | Nori Azami & Tommy Sparks
with
~Hugs~
BGM
While everyone was busy assessing the situation and rationalizing everything that happened in this short moment, all Nori could think about was the rejection of her challenge; no not even a rejection, she just got straight up ignored. Boro was not gaining any affection in her eyes. The thing that removed Nori from her train of thoughts was a growl of some kind; upon looking around to find the source, she noticed Fenrir, who apparently threatened Nori; she didn’t really understand why he was so upset about it when others barely batted an eye, but appearances needed to be kept so she innocently gazed at Fenrir and softly said,
“Well…sorry, I didn’t know your ears were that sensitive, though it’s pretty obvious if you think about it-“
her last words being said in a more joking tone before removing the smile from her face and scratching her right cheek with one finger, as if to look cute. “I *did* warn you.”
After addressing Fenrir, Nori turned around, only to see a round table with a single person sleeping on it in the most nonchalant way possible. It made Nori lift the right corner of her mouth and twitch her eye in dismay.
"Mmmm... Woman of the hour.”
Nori quickly glanced towards the blind girl before looking back towards the sleeping beauty. The words slowly sunk in, that unruffled woman was Tumble! She is the one that gave Nori the opportunity to challenge U.A., and she is the one in charge here. The sight made Nori a bit agitated though, Tumble was a very popular hero, but this slop in front of them didn’t look competent at all. Yet she was even more agitated at the boy buttoning up her shirt as if it was the nicest thing to do. She wanted to speak up about it but before being able to, a little boy was flying across the room, looking to tackle Tumble. Her first reaction was surprise, what reason did he have to glide straight into Tumble? How did he even do it? Luckily, she was able to contain herself and remove any unnecessary thoughts so she could focus on the important things, like impressing Tumble herself.
With a sigh, Nori set one arm to face Tommy and the other in the opposite direction and she began to suck air in from Tommy’s side and pushing out air on the other end. In a flash she was racing across the room getting closer to Tommy, and with each inch closer, the pull affected Tommy more.
As he skidded across the table, aiming to fall right into Tumble’s lap, suddenly he felt the air around him drawn off course, his first instinct was to ‘pull’ harder to compensate, but if he did that he would be more likely to hurt Tumble than give a surprise. Changing from pulling to pushing, Tommy flew towards the source of the suction force, a pale girl with fun hair’s arms. Well… if she had her arms wide open, what kind of gentleman would Tommy be if he didn’t oblige~?
Opening his own arms to match Nori’s, Tommy was soon on a collision course with her instead, adjusting his speed so he didn’t slam into her, Tommy was mere moments away from impact.
“I didn’t know my hugs were in such high demand! You could have just asked, I was also going to get around to everyone at some point~.”
Nori’s plan had completely backfired, both literally and metaphorically. That little brat was heading straight for him, and it all went so fast that she could barely hear what Tommy was saying. she tried to stop and dodge him, but the momentum didn’t allow her to move, and so with a squeal, the two hit each other and tumbled down on the floor.
BGM
Nori blinked a few times, still a bit surprised; at least the fall didn’t hurt a whole lot since she used her quirk to reduce the fall damage. upon looking down, her eyes fell upon Tommy who blissfully had his arms wrapped around her. Yet instead of red cheeks and an awkward expression, Nori looked pissed off.
“Get off of me boy, what is wrong with you!”
She shouted while pushing Tommy aside with a good gust. after getting up, adjusting her clothes and hair and facing Tommy she continued with an almost scolding tone, “You can’t just fly across the room hugging everyone as you see fit, it’s rude, annoying, and obnoxious. have you ever seen a hero fly around cuddling everyone? It’s childish, even for someone of your age, so stop it; if you want affection, earn it.”
Nori’s arms were folded at this point, her gaze still on Tommy.
Nori’s gust lifting him into the air Tommy, suspended himself for a moment to flip backwards for dramatic effect. Landing with arms up in the air and then looking around with a wide grin on his face like he was an olympic gymnast that had just completed their routine. He was about to take a bow when Nori berated him. Her points had merit and the affection comment did cut close to the bone, but he couldn’t just let her have the last word!
“Well, ma’am, you did a spectacular job of blowing me away, but why shouldn’t a hero fly around hugging people? Disasters happen, villains happen, just plain old scary stuff happens. Hugs are comforting, reassuring. They say ‘I’m here, you’re safe’. Hugs and affection? They might as well be as important as a hero’s costume. Is it childish? Probably. So is dressing up in spandex and stopping a mugger. So is coming up with a whacky code name to be called by everyone while wearing the spandex. A hug is important. Even a quirkless can be ‘super’ if they can give a kid a hug when needed, sometimes people need that more than a costume.” Bowing after making his point, Tommy’s smile was as ever present as always, but lacked a certain charm. Getting back up, the charm was back on and sighed.
“And here I thought I could be the first thing Miss Tumble saw upon waking, oh well. I’ll make a hugger out of you ma’am~!”
“Is that your excuse for hugging everyone around you? You’re obviously missing the point, it’s really sweet that you want to comfort people, it’s a heroic quality even, but let me ask you; when you came at Tumble or me, did we look like we needed comfort? what if I felt very anxious around people, what if I didn’t like being hugged out of comfort at all? You’re not paying attention to others around you before you assault them, so that begs me to think, you have ulterior motives for your charade. besides, if you go around hugging people at the pace you’re at, it will give as much comfort as a handshake.”
“Charade?!” both hands over his heart, Tommy acted as the the accusation struck him physically “My word, you wound me! Well, if I did have an ulterior motive it would be something along the lines of ‘I like hugging and I’m a human being and therefore inherently selfish by nature’. But that’s on the assumption that I have an ulterior motive. Besides, have you given Miss Akemi a hug? It’s so soft! As for you, you’re wound kinda tight. If you were anxious around others would you have yelled at Marl back there, challenging him to a duel? If you don’t like being hugged, well I’d find out pretty quick and adjust my actions. Like what has happened now. My actions, my responsibility. It wouldn’t be Miss Shuko’s fault if I hugged you and you didn’t like it. It wouldn’t be Miss Tumble’s fault either. Mine, that’s all. Point is though, are we going to debate the fact I hug people all day? Or are we going to do something productive?”
Nori being as competitive as she is, got lost in trying to win the debate, and it took Tommy’s final words to make her realise it. she had made a fool of herself by talking about such a silly and childish subject with such passion, and that did make her blush. quickly facing away from Tommy and towards Tumble, she hoped that her future teacher was still asleep and hadn’t heard all the commotion.
“Fine, let’s leave it at that then.”
She said abruptly before walking away from Tommy and towards a chair to the right of Tumble, sitting down with her arms folded.
“A wise general does know when to retreat… or something like that anyway~” going back over to Shuko, Tommy saw she’d hurt herself and offered her a seat. Nori’s talk making him think he was somehow responsible, and also offering one to Akemi, because that was just good manners. | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
8,224 | 221 | 57 | 1,106 | 327 | 🆄🅿🅳🅰🆃🅴
The conference room that they had all gathered in was plain in design and the decor was scarce, but behind its simplicity, was a layout that facilitated excellent acoustics. Unfortunately, this just made the noise that had been piercing through Tumble's ears even louder; the fact that she probably had a hangover just made things worse.
Tumble thought that if she ignored it enough, she'd eventually fall back to sleep. However, there was no helping it; the peaceful silence that previously filled the room was nowhere to be found. I guess it was time for her to finally get up. Tumble's arms persistently rested atop the round table as her head slowly crept upward. Her expression remained languid while sluggishly looking from side to side, as if trying to identify each person that was in the room.
With one hand partially outstretched, she began counting along her finger. "Uhhh...One...Two...Three..." Tumble's cheeks slightly puffed for a moment as she attempted to smother a yawn while continuing her head count. "Seven..Eight.."
Although still predominantly exuding a lethargic vibe, a puzzled look happened to find its way unto Tumble's face. She was missing two others. It didn't take long before she realized the mild tugging that was going on below her head.
"Nine.." Tumble said as she laid eyes on Yuki. Their eyes met and the gaze between the two awkwardly lasted longer than it should. In an instant, she had wrapped her arm around the young boy's neck, gradually applying more pressure as she looked for her tenth student.
"Fucking. Boro." She whispered to herself in annoyance; she knew exactly where the last one was. His actions didn't deviate from what they had planned, but Tumble didn't expect him to take one this early on. As much as she wanted to deal with this now, she didn't have the time.
Loosening her hold on Yuki, Tumble began to stretch out her body before leaning back into her chair. "Take a seat." Her somnolent appearance quickly faded as more vigor started to build up in her face. "Oh yeah. And before I forget." Her voice started to sound stern, losing the previous lackadaisical feel it was giving off earlier. Pulling back most of her hair, she proceeded to tie it in a ponytail as she cleared her throat. "The name's Mika Nagano. And yeah, welcome to Team Tumble." | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,225 | 221 | 58 | 1,788 | 448 | Taking a seat, Shen-Mu waited for the meeting to begin. Not good at first impressions. She said, staring in Tumble's direction. Regardless, I suppose I am happy to be here. As long as you don't strangle more of us.
...Even when they deserve it. She said, turning to face Yuki. | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,226 | 222 | 0 | 2,459 | 3,178 | CIR Headquarters, Los Angeles
October 3, 2049
4:45pm
Sentinel Commander Harland's Office
Forms, reports, requisition requests, and a myriad of other papers lay scattered across Sentinel Commander Harland's desk. Work that was appropriate for a man accustomed to office work. But Cole was not that man, a life of action had made him restless as he'd sit behind his desk reading a seemingly endless pile of field reports and filling out countless formality papers. While he wished he could return to his previous line of work, Cole found happiness in the fact that if he did it wouldn't be for the same reasons as before. "Its probably best if I stay out of the field nowadays anyway. Not what I used to be with this thing attached to me now", Cole thought to himself as he eyed his cybernetic leg. He had lost his leg a while back in an accident and since then he's never fully gotten used to the replacement. Getting out of his chair Cole walked over to the rear window of his office overlooking the surrounding area. The sun's rays seemed to glisten in the air as a gentle breeze could be seen passing through the trees. All the colors of the world seemed to be intensified with sharp contrasts and the view of the cars and people below seemed almost perfect. Of course things would never always be perfect, that was the entire reason for the founding of the CIR. There will always be fighting between humans and gifted, and the CIR will be there to make sure it doesn't get out of control.
"Commander Harland, I just wanted to remind you about your meeting with Mr & Mrs Reynolds this afternoon. Your presence has also been requested by members of our R&D Department. What's more I have a new set of field reports waiting for you. I don't know much but apparently there's been a string of killings, all victims were Enforcers", Anne-Cole's secretary-was already giving Cole the rundown of the day the second she entered the office. With her eyes glued to her tablet Anne didn't even notice that her boss was not even at his desk. It wasn't until Cole replied after an awkward moment of silence did she realize where he was. "Why weren't these killings noticed sooner?", he said with a stern tone in his voice and an even more serious look on his face.
"I'm not sure, sir. As I said everything we have on this are in these files"
Cole sighed in frustration before dropping into his chair. Grabbing the nearest of the new files he began to read them but stopped before he got too far. "Thank you Anne, that'll be all for now. If you see the Reynolds let them right in"
"Will do, sir"
CIR Headquarters, Los Angeles
October 3, 2049
4:45pm
Archive 4
The screen was a blur as an indistinguishable amount of files, articles, books, even TV dialogue lines flew by. For Aaron it was not a blur but rather a form of finding entertainment. His quad-goggles were capable of quickly snapping pictures of each piece of information that went by like a high speed camera. While The Archives mainly held project blueprints and case files there were documents of certain import stored there as well should it's use aid a future investigation. But all this searching was not for an investigation, Aaron was simply looking for a certain book he favored. Niccolò Machiavelli's "The Prince" was a personal favorite of his and while he'd come to own a few copies over the years inevitably they all were lost.
"Found you, finally!", a smile grew on his face as he began downloading the book onto a flash drive. "It must be considered that there is nothing more difficult to carry out, nor more doubtful of success, nor more dangerous to handle, than to initiate a new order of things", reciting a line from the book Aaron smirked and went on his way to the upper levels.
Upon reaching the Sentinel area Aaron was greeted by his fellow Sentinels, despite the Sentinel Program being a very selective process there still was a considerable number of these elite CIR Agents. Some had minor cybernetic augmentation while others chose replacements so extensive their arms, legs, and parts of their torso were given augmentations. Aaron understood the need, it was a lot easier to get killed nowadays with these new blackmarket weapons. A weapons cache had been raided a few months back and they'd found heavy weapons that were modified beyond what they had seen. The CIR could do the same but that would only cause escalation and the last thing this city needed was to be made a battlefield between the authorities and the criminals. Instead a more subtle approach would be taken. Agents would capture weapons caches, stop smuggling routes, apprehend key distributors, all while keeping the peace between two species.
"Hey Walsh!", cried Esmond a fellow Sentinel with a rather bulky frame. Aaron grinned but that grin quickly became a look of horror. Esmond had a strong handshake...a very strong handshake, and it wasn't even due to cybernetics. The last time Esmond shook Aaron's hand he broke his prosthetic hand. "Oh hey Esmond! Wish I could stay and chat bu-", It was too late, Esmond was already approaching Aaron the second he recognized the goggles. Instead of a death grip handshake Aaron received a bro-hug but with the muscle density in Esmond's arm it felt as though Aaron had been slammed into a wall. "Haha I haven't seen you around the messhall for quite some time. What are you up to?", Esmond might have been a walking mountain of muscle but he wasn't a meathead. While he never really suspected Aaron of doing anything against the CIR, Esmond tended to be a bit inquisitive.
"I've been hitting the archives lately. I was looking for a certain book"
"What book might that be? Hmmm?"
"Ever read 'The Prince' before?", Aaron asked Esmond but received only a shrug in response.
"Its by Niccolò Machiavelli, meant to be a guide on being an effective ruler"
"I see your ego has inflated a bit, the only thing your the ruler of is finding the most irrelevant shit to read"
"Think of it this way, a king isn't successful why? One person watching over a massive amount of people. If we all learned how to effectively keep the peace on an individual level the world would run smoother right?"
"Whatever you say idealist, anyway I'll see you later. I wanna hit the gym before before the mess hall closes", with that Esmond stomped off creating slight tremors with each step. The only thing going through Aaron's mind was, "Is the gym even necessary at this point for you?" | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons.
Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie |
8,227 | 222 | 1 | 29 | 5,207 | The sounds of consistent beeps from a heart monitor and the quiet hiss of air being pumped could be heard in the hospital room where Ace laid unconscious, a bloody gauze was tightly wrapped around her stomach. She had came out from the operation room, a few hours prior, due to the treatment of a gun shot wound to the stomach region and a few other minor injuries. She was lucky. For if she had been found any later than she was; she probably wouldn't have been alive now. When she was first found, she had already lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious. Even with the modern technology and medicine available; the doctors were unsure of her chances for survival.
Jack was sitting at her bedside and was holding Ace's hand tightly. It had been 15 years since he had last seen her, and he certainly didn't expect meeting her again under such circumstances. Unfortunately, nothing could be done at this point; there was no information on how or why Ace ended up in her condition. All Jack could do now was wait for Ace to wake up and for her to tell him what happened.
Jack had a solemn look on his face as he eyed Ace, hoping for signs of her waking up. A few hours had passed since the Ace's surgery and the the doctors had repeatedly assured Jack that they'd keep constant surveillance on Ace and let a Jack know of any kind change in her condition. Jack sighed before finally standing up. He made his way to the nearest telephone and paused.
"After 15 years and this is the first time I give them news on Ace...." Jack murmured. He then chuckled a bit before continuing. "They're all going to be so pissed."
Jack picked up the phone and dialed the number for the CIR HQ. The phone wrong a few times before a young woman finally answered.
"Hello. This is Anne, Commander Harland's intern."
"Ah, hi. May I speak with the Commander? It's on personal business."
"Personal business? I'm sorry but Commander Harland is currently busy. Would you like to schedule an appointment?"
"Appointment? No... No... Can I just talk to him real quick? It's concerning a friend of his."
"A friend? Excuse me but may I ask who's calling?"
"My name is Jack Clarke."
"Jack Clarke? Hmmmm.... No I'm not finding a Jack Clarke on file... Are you sure that you have the right number?" | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,228 | 222 | 2 | 531 | 3,680 | Cia walked into the CIR Headquarters with Patrick right next to her. He had a plate of what looked to be tarts with him, some that he had made himself which only meant that they would be to die for. As she entered the building she was welcomed by quite a few of the people inside, many of them knew who she was, of course it was pretty hard to not know who she was as she was one of the few people who constantly refused to get robotic arms or any kinds of prosthetic. She walked around without arms and she was proud of it. She never did like the prosthetic anyways.
Once she got to the elevator to turned to look around for John. "You need to hurry up John! We are going to be late and you know how much I hate that." Cia said turning back towards the entrance. Patrick was right next her still holding the plate of tarts in his hands. "If you don't hurry you aren't getting any tarts!" Patrick said to his father smiling and hopping around. He always loved to see his uncle Cole and was excited to share his latest treat with him. | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
Both are done what you guys think? |
8,229 | 222 | 3 | 2,134 | 491 | A young man in blue scrubs covered by a white lab coat made his way down the hallway to room 433, his long white hair pulled back in a ponytail as he pushed a small cart in front of him with a single syringe next to a small bottle filled with a pale yellow liquid. As he reached the room he stopped to check the name on the door Ace. He was at the right place. Norville carefully opened the door and walked inside pulling the cart behind him. A quick glance around the room revealed the man on the far end of the room on a phone and the woman unconscious in the bed. Norville smiles kindly before introducing himself in a soft tone "I'm nurse Norville, I'm just going to quickly check her chart and vitals."
He reached over and grabbed the chart and quickly read it before moving over to the heart monitor. He quickly pulls up a detailed report of the last few hours and pulls out a small tablet and jots down a few things. | Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry. |
8,230 | 222 | 4 | 188 | 1,081 | Blood...there was blood all over the floor and walls...and in the center were maimed corpses, who's skulls and rib cages were crushed and destroyed. Upon closer examination, there appeared to be an arm-less woman, a young child, and a young woman. Further on, in the darkness...there was a glow, which was slowly fading away...then suddenly a shriek shattered the silence as the vision abruptly turned to black
It was just another meaningless vision...
John had broken out into a sweat, and had been standing in some kind of daze at the front door for a few moments as his family continued on towards the elevator. After taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his face, John realized that they were calling out to him, and he hastily made his way towards the elevator that his family had entered. Once inside, he chuckled and offered a smile in return for Patrick's little taunt about the tarts, before looking to his wife, Cia. "Sorry, I seem to be a little out of it today..." He started to say, then pressed the button labeled with the floor number where Cole's office was located.
Taking a step back as the sliding doors closed and the elevator began to move upwards, John turned to Patrick and ruffled his hair a little bit. "Excited to see ol' uncle Cole, are we?" He asked, though he already knew the answer, and gave a warm smile. By now he had cleared the vision from his mind, but the fear and worry were still there...and he did his best to keep that from showing on his face. After all, they were only visions...they aren't real, and they aren't true.
=
Meanwhile, Mayumi was sitting in a chair waiting outside of Cole's office for Cia, John, and Patrick to show up. She had come earlier this morning to get some of her work out of the way in time to attend the meeting between Cole and the rest of her family, as Mayumi had recently been hired for an office job at CIR. In truth, she would've preferred to be an information specialist working out in the field, but, well, she took what she could get. Perhaps she could use the meeting as an excuse to speak to Cole about getting a job transfer? | John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons. |
8,231 | 222 | 5 | 2,459 | 3,178 | CIR Headquarters, Los Angeles
October 3, 2049
4:50
R&D Department
Natalie's eyes were glued to the moniter as she looked over her information over and over again. Months of research and countless hours of experimentation and observations have resulted in a now rather obsessed individual. Natalie may be young but she was well beyond her years in terms of knowledge of the metahuman physiology. "I'm so close I can feel it. Where are you hiding?", she whispered to herself as she reevaluated her findings. Unfortunately Natalie had reached a dead end...Or had she? Natalie got up from her relaxed position in her chair and began to furiously look through her autopsy files. "I know you're here, hiding in plain sight this whole time", at this point she was no longer whispering but speaking aloud as if to another in the room. There was a moment of silence ending her ramblings before she gasped harshly. Natalie hurriedly compiled all the autopsy files into a flash drive and exited her lab once the transfer was completed. "The Director needs to see thi-wait no. Mom would want a copy of this, can't let this get into the wrong hands without a backup", Natalie stopped her mad run towards the director's office and began to head to the exit when she once again stopped herself.
"Maybe it's time to let dad know? We haven't met yet but mom said he could be trusted...more or less. Dammit what to do! Alright alright here's the plan: tell dad, bring him to mom, whatever awkwardness happens, then the three of us can decide on what to do with this. To his office then!", to an outside observer Natalie looked like a madwoman running back and forth without purpose. Natalie bolted towards the elevator but before she could even yell for those inside to hold it open it shut. "Too many floors up to take the stairs, there is an elevator on the opposite side of the lobby!", Natalie turned tail and once again sprinted for the elevator this time she practically slid into the elevator as the doors began to close. She frantically pressed the button to the top floor and in a moment the elevator began to carry her and the confused CIR agents up the tower. After what felt like an eternal elevator ride Natalie arrived at the top floor and she practically threw herself at the secretary's desk. "I need to speak with Sentinel Commander Harland immediately! It's urgent and for his eyes only!", there was a look of urgency in Natalie's eyes and it was rivaled by her aura of obsession with whatever it was she was trying to show the commander. Anne raised her brow as she looked over Natalie, she was clearly from R&D but protocol was protocol. "I'm sorry but do you have an appointment?", she asked hoping that Natalie did so she wouldn't be stuck with her.
"I don't have time for that he needs to see this now!", Natalie would have continued had she not realized how insane she was sounding. "Relax before security tases you and throws you out of the building", Natalie took a deep breathe and calmed herself before she spoke again. "I'm sorry I don't have an appointment but what I have for Commander Harland is of the utmost importance and it's for his eyes only"
Anne was surprised by Natalie's sudden civility but nothing changed, protocol is protocol. "I understand that but the commander is about to be in an important meeting, afterwards you'll be free to speak with him if you still wish. Until then please wait over there"
Natalie let out a breath of frustration before nodding in acknowledgment. Sulking over to the waiting area in defeat she sat herself not far from Mayumi and began fiddling with the flash drive in her hands. "Held back by a damn secretary...what the hell"
"Yes of course I have the right number!", Jack replied getting slightly annoyed. He was aware of the fact that this was just protocol, but with Ace in her current condition; Jack was a little on edge and was impatient. He sighed before continuing. "Please... I'm begging you.... Let me speak with the Commander... My daughter.... His friend... Is dying... So please... Please let me speak with him..."
Anne wanted to pull her hair out at this point. Her moral compass challenging her job at the moment she decided it would probably best to just let this man through and get ready for whatever ordeal was next. "Alright just a moment, let me inform the commander", Anne put Jack on hold as she called into Cole's office. "Sir, there is an individual who desperately needs to speak with you. His name is Jack and he says he needs to speak with you about a certain 'Ace'". Cole immediately replied to the call informing Anne to put him through. Without another word Jack was on the line with Cole, "Jack how are things? You said you wanted to talk about Ace?"
"Yeah....." Jack replied, the tone of his voice was tired and solumn. "Ace got hurt really bad and just got out of the ER a few hours ago... Cole... Ace is dying... She hasn't woken up yet and though her condition is currently stable and slowly improving; the doctors aren't sure if she'll survive..... I'm sorry that the first time I've ever spoke of Ace's condition in 15 years had to be this but.... At least you'll now be able to finally see her again, right?" Though it couldn't be heard in his voice; Jack was on the verge of tears. He was afraid that he might be loosing his little girl and that he'd loose what family he had left.
"Its fine Jack just have you considered having her undergo cybernetic prosthesis? She'd look and function the same and if its a matter of money I have no problem paying for it", Cole wasn't going to let Ace go without a fight. He had the resources to do this it wasn't a problem of how just a matter of when. There was a catch of course, but Cole wasn't sure if Jack would approve of it. "Listen Jack, the cybernetics aren't a problem but there is a catch to it. If you approve of this then Ace would have to work for the CIR for a period of time. The cybernetics would be considered company property and she'd have to work it off. I swear it won't be permanent and I'll make sure she's taken care of. I know this is hard and I wouldn't do this unless it was Ace's best chance for survival", Cole stopped in wait for Jack's answer. He knew this wasn't something that could be decided in an instant but time wasn't exactly on their side.
A prosthetic? Jack had never considered the idea, mainly because of the fact that he was uncertain as to whether or not it would actually help Ace or not. Jack paused."Cole, I'm not supposed to be telling you this but... For the past 15 years, Ace has been secretly working for various branches of the CIR. She told me to keep quiet about it but I think it'd be okay if I told you. You see.... Ace wanted to protect the peace you and the others fought to create. She figured that the best way to do this was by becoming a mercenary and to disappear from the rest of society for a while. This included you and the others. The reason why I'm telling you this because I have no problem with Ace working with the CIR. The only problem is that a prosthetic might not be able to fix this problem. The injury Ace received was a gunshot wound to the stomach, just bellow the right lung. When they found her; she had already lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious." He explained, hoping that this news wouldn't shock or enrage Cole too much.
"She's still got that fire in her after all those years", Cole sighed before looking out the window. "Listen Jack if the cybernetics don't fix what's wrong with Ace they'll at least give her more time. I'll handle everything don't you worry, I'll have her transferred to our facility for testing and once they find the problem the augmentations will begin. Best case scenario Ace'll be back up and running with no problem. Worst case is we'll have more work to do on her. I won't let her go easily, you have my word. Now what hospital was she admitted to? I'll send transport over for her pickup and you can come too. We can catch up and I might have something you'd be interested in."
"I have no doubt that you would keep the promise you made to me all those years ago..." Jack sighed before continuing. "We are currently at the Los Angles Critical Care Center in room 433..... Cole... Please... Save her...."
"I will Jack, I'll see you two soon", Cole hung up the phone and dialed his secretary, "Anne, have medical transport unit sent to LA Critical Care Center Room 433 for Ace Stahl". He didn't wait for a response, Anne knew to simply have it done. As for Cole he sat at his computer and accessed the Sentinel roster. Cole hesitated for moment before entering Ace's name and information into the roster and setting her status to critical and "under intensive care".
Once that was taken care of Cole stood at the window of his office, peacefully admiring the view when he heard the sound of yelling outside his office causing him to wince at the sudden interruption of his zen. "Female, young, not John or Cia. Too unfamiliar to be Mayumi, most likely some bureaucrat sent from the higher ups. As if I didn't have enough to worry about", Cole's suspicions were put to rest when Anne entered his office. "Sorry to disturb you sir but I just wanted you to know there is a rather determined young lady from R&D who wishes to speak with you
"R&D? The hell is she doing here? Isn't this the director's job?
"My thoughts exactly but she was adamant that what she had to show was for your eyes only"
"Alright send her in after the Reynolds. Speaking of which are they here yet?"
"Mayumi is waiting outside but the rest of the family is in the building and on their way up. They should be here any second" | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons.
Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie |
8,232 | 222 | 6 | 531 | 3,680 | Cia gave a smile to her husband ever since she got married she had been nothing but smiles. Of course she was unaware of the visions that he had been having, if Cia knew she would worry a lot more about him, and her smile wouldn't be there as often.
Cia exited the elevator with Pat going out before her with the tray for tarts in his hand. "I brought Tarts! You want one Mayumi?" Pat yelled with glee as he offered Mayumi a tart. Cia gave a smile to Mayumi truth was though Cia didn't much like that idea of Mayumi working with CIR but atleast it was a desk job and not out in the field. She didn't want anyone to go through what she had gone through, and she really didn't want Mayumi to find out about what she did to a certain cyborg. "Working hard Mayumi?" Cia said to her with a smile. Cia was protective even a little over protective when it come to her children, even those at the orphanage knew that Cia was a bit over bearing sometimes.
As soon as Cia saw Cole though she could tell that something was wrong. She didn't want to discuss anything like that in front of Patrick though, he was still so young and didn't need to know about anything that could trouble him. Cia always wanted to see smiles on her children's faces, but before that she wanted them to be safe. That was what she fought for after wall, that was what she risked becoming a monster for. | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
Both are done what you guys think? |
8,233 | 222 | 7 | 29 | 5,207 | Jack hung up the phone and quietly turned to Norville, who was still jotting notes on a piece of paper. He walked over to him and patted him on the back once before sitting back down next to Ace. "Thanks." He replied to Norville. He looked back down at Ace and murmured quietly, " Don't worry, sweetie... Help is on the way.... So just hold on for a little bit longer, ok?" Jack knew that Ace was against the ideas of having a prosthetic, but he didn't have a choice; Ace was dying and this was something that even modern medicine couldn't fix. He could only hope that Ace would eventually forgive him for his choice. | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,234 | 222 | 8 | 188 | 1,081 | Mayumi jumped as the relative silence was broken by Patrick's yelling once the elevator reached the floor, then proceeded to laugh at her own fright as her younger brother offered her a tart. "Sure, I'll take one." She said, carefully picking one of the tarts off of the plate. She had just picked up the tart when her mother, Cia, asked her a question. "Yeah...had to finish a lot of my work before I could manage to fit this meeting into my schedule...and I definitely don't want to stay here too late, or I might never go home. She replied, adding a little sarcastic joke in at the end. Of course she would go home, but if she stayed after her day was supposed to be done, then she might loose track of time...like when a kid stays up late studying or doing homework.
Taking a bite out of the tart, Mayumi let out a muffled sound of enjoyment, and a few moments later she swallowed and smiled at Patrick. "Mmm! These are good..." She declared, taking another bite...then another, and another. Soon enough, the tart was gone.
"That tart didn't last very long at all." Said John, who now stood beside Cia. Mayumi giggled for a second, then remembered she needed to thank Patrick for the tart. "Oh, thank-you for the tart, Pat-Pat." She spoke with a smile, then stood up from her chair. | John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons. |
8,235 | 222 | 9 | 2,134 | 491 | When he finished taking notes on Ace's vital readings for the past hour, he picked up his notepad and walked over to the small cart that he had wheeled in earlier. He offered a smile to Jack before he picked up the syringe, "Excuse me for intruding sir, but what is your relationship with Miss Ace?" He asked as he removed the cap to the small bottle and prepped the syringe.
He inserted the syringe into the small bottle then measured out exactly 3.5ml of the yellowish liquid before removing the syringe and removing any bubbles from the medicine. He moved over to the IV that was in Ace's arm and inserted the needle into the port on the tubing. While slowly injecting the medicine he kept his eyes on her vital monitor. "This is a supplement that will make up for the lack of enzymes from her damaged liver, this is the best we can do while the lead doctors of her case are working out what we can do to get her back on her feet and to every day life as soon as possible." Norville removed the now empty syringe and slightly adjusted the IV drip. He knew that the only way to get her well again was a new liver, but being new to the care of Miss Ace, he couldn't just disclose everthing to someone who wasn't either family or her guardian while she was in the hospital. | Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry. |
8,236 | 222 | 10 | 2,775 | 56 | Elsewhere
Rows of men and women were packed into the back of the truck. They had been riding for a while now. With blindfolds over their eyes, none of them knew exactly where they were headed, or for how long they had been travelling. A lone guard in the back ensured there was no peeking either. "It's a security measure," he had declared when loading them up, "Don't want any of you ratting us out. No electronics get to come along either."
Finally, after a long, bumpy trip, the truck had pulled to a stop. "Alright. Blindfolds off, recruits, and follow me. No time to stretch your legs. Commander wants to see you. Now." The guard stated, leaping out and motioning for them to follow.
As they each hopped out, they were greeted by the sight of a circular clearing admist dense woods. Inhabiting this clearing was a network of tents and other temporary dwellings. All around them the denizens of this camp were busying themselves with daily routine: lumbering, crafting, training, sparring, cooking, maintaining guns and other equipment. "It might not look like heaven, but at least it isn't hell. Come along now. We're heading to the main tent. We'll get you oriented later." The guard once again instructed.
Soon enough, they made their way into the longest, highest tent. Within were a motley collection of chairs purloined from a variety of sources, set out in rows. As they took their seats, Kyle Kruger emerged from the back flap of the tent from an adjoining one. He grinned broadly. "Many recruits this run. Sweet." He said to himself as he pulled up to the podium. He waited for all to find their seats and for chatter to settle, cleared his throat, then spoke.
"Brothers. Sisters. We, the Storm Hounds, welcome you with open arms, welcome you to struggle for the survival of our race and way of life as comrades in arms. I will not fool you: this fight is not an easy one. But make no mistake, it is a righteous one.
As I'm sure you all remember, it has been nearly 20 years since this nation was taken from us by anti-democratic forces, proponents of 'tolerance', 'unity' and 'integration.' A fool and criminal President Callahan may have been, but isn't it also a crime to have robbed the American people of any choice in the matter? If you ask me, I'd say selling our government out to what had been, and still remains, a mortal threat, is a crime. A crime with a very specific name: Treason. Despite this, the international defenders of 'justice' exploited and abused the Callahan trial like sharks drawn to blood in the water, and through it took our entire system down. The pro-metahuman and metahuman minority thus displaced us, the anti-metahuman and pro-human majority, in an organized mutiny of feelings over reason.
Well, we can see now the product of their blindness, their naivety, can't we? While we have turned our swords into plowshares, the swords of the metahumans remain swords, and they now prey upon our weakness. There was a guy from Florence hundreds of years ago who said, 'Hence it comes that all armed prophets have been victorious, and all unarmed prophets have been destroyed.' And our rival prophets are heavily armed indeed. Never let yourselves be fooled, never lower your guard: a being with the powers of a god, but with the mind of a mere mortal, is always a threat to peace and stability. We must do everything we can to undo these mistakes thrust upon us by Callahan's mad drive for power. Every metahuman dead means thousands of ordinary humans can sleep just that little bit more cozily at night. They are weapons, nothing more. Letting them into society is just like letting our children play on land-mine laden fields before they are cleared."
Kyle scanned his audience, noting the more enthusiastic ones and their faces, mentally earmarking them. He extended a finger. "Excuse me." he offered, then reached for the glass of water on his podium and took a swig.
As he wandered out from the podium, he continued. "Not many know this of me, or would expect it of me, what with being one of the US' most wanted domestic terrorists and all..." He got some chuckles from that. "But I used to want to be a teacher. Yeah, I know. I didn't quite end up reaching that dream, did I?" He flashed a grin, then reached for the cord of the projector screen positioned at the back of the space, then unravelled it with a yank.
"This why I apologize in advance for the information overload I have in store for you guys today - I know it isn't good to burden students like this. Heh." His grin became a sheepish, apologetic one. He then motioned to a soldier at the other end of the tent, who at his command switched on the projector.
"But, you know. Screw it. You've read the newspapers, or saw it on Chirp or whatever the fuck the kids browse these days. Point is, things are getting real bad out there. I usually like to space out theory, even introductory stuff like this, much more, but present circumstances do not grant me this luxury." He explained as he clutched a stick between his hands.
Kyle then thwapped the end of the stick against the board. "Anywho, originating out of the population, the guerrilla war is conducted by local resistance movements. Without support from, and this is important, the population or an armed power, resistance groups cannot sustain themselves for long." Kyle paused to reflect for a moment, then continued. "That same man from Florence that lived hundreds of years ago recommended against relying on foreign forces anyway, so, support must come from the population. I'm not asking for you to be good little boyscouts or girlscouts, but this support must be achieved and held by all means. Don't go shooting anyone who isn't a metahuman, unless if defending yourselves, obviously. I've been shooting at these things for about as long as a lot of you have been walking, by the look of things. Don't sweat it, I'll tell you more about the signs to watch out for when gunning for metahumans later. Now..." Kyle's instruction continued on and on.
At the end of it all, there was a common thought among the people huddled in the hall: What was longer, the trip here, or the lecture? Despite its length, most understood its importance, fortunately. "Failing to prepare is to be prepared for failure", as Kyle himself had put it during his instruction. | Howdy! This looks hella neat, and I'd like to join. My character is a bit of a port/alternate universe version of a character from a slightly older RP similar to this ("Forest of Secrets"), if that's okay. I've rewritten things to try and make it more fitting to this particular setting, of course. Bear in mind this is a bit of a draft, until some things are cleared up/problems are pointed out, etc.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie
In the other RP, he and his original team of buddies had power armor + combat stims to better the odds of surviving encounters with metahumans. I wasn't sure if that'd fit into your idea of technology in this particular setting, so I figured it'd be better to just ask if it's okay to throw that in. Of course that'd just be Kyle and the original Storm Hounds with power armor, not newer recruits to his anti-metahuman organization. Without proper maintenance crews, the power armor would be of dodgy condition and with a lot of improvised maintenance by this time, given they've been on the run for so long. |
8,237 | 222 | 11 | 29 | 5,207 | Jack was in a daze. For the past hour he had been trying to wrap his mind around not only the fact that Ace was in the hospital and that she needed to receive a cybernetic prosthetic but how she was also going to have to work for Cole as a Sentinel. But the thing that was mostly on Jacks minds was: who did this, how could this have happened, and why was she attacked?
Ace was an incredibly strong fighter, even without the use of her gift and could easily take out a squad of Scions. To end up in her current condition seemed unheard of until now, which means she either had gotten careless or she had tried taking on an opponent strong enough to be her equal or be even stronger than her.
Ace was also (at least according to her last update with Jack) currently off duty and wasn't taking any really big jobs. So why would she be attacked?
This brought Jack to his last question. The Scions of Divinity were targeting humans not meta humans like Ace. The only reason why the Scions might target her is for the revenge of fallen comrades, she was an Enforcer or Sentinel, or the perhaps saw her as a threat. However, Ace had taken on Scions before without receiving any major injuries; so the likelihood of the Scions be her attack was small. The only other group that would attack her and for it to make sense was The Storm Hounds. The Storm Hounds were notorious for lynching meta humans and attacking meta human supporters. Ace had not taken on many Storm Hound agents in the past so the amount of power they have is currently unknown. The injury Ace received was another thing to take into consideration. Since it was a gunshot wound and not a wound caused by a "gift"; the likelihood of her attacker being human increases. While it is true that the Scions have used weaponry and firearms; the Scions are known to kill using gifts and not weapons. Storm Hound agents are humans therefore they-
These thoughts swirled in Jacks mind over and over again. It was only until he heard Norville speak that he snapped back to reality. Jack hesitated briefly before responding to Norville's question. He looked up at Norville, dead in the eye, holding a steady yet tired gaze. Jack noticed that the top half of his eyes were shrouded in a golden hue. "A gifted? hmmm... he must be an abnormality.... I've never seen a Gifted with eyes like those before." He thought silently before he spoke allowed."heh... I.... I guess you could say that I'm this little wild fire's father." He replied referring to Ace. | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,238 | 222 | 12 | 2,459 | 3,178 | The Warren Residence, Los Angeles
October 26, 2049
5:00pm
The Net Room
Mood Music
"Well if you can't afford my information I'm afraid our business is concluded", Josephine's finger hovered over the keyboard but she had no intention of ending the call. The client was trying to haggle himself a better deal but Josephine would have none of it. As expected the voice on the other side of the line abruptly spoke up, "Wait! Wait!...I can pay your fee, if the cost hasn't increased". A smile ran across Josephine's face as she knew that the payout was as good as hers. "The cost hasn't changed and neither is how you'll pay. As I said when we first began this deal I get paid in cash only. I'm sending you the directions to one of my dead drop locations. Leave the money there and within five minutes of doing so one of my contacts will arrive to confirm the money is there. Once that's been done they will take the money and leave in its place the files. However you will wait until my contact has left the area with the money before you go to claim the files. If you try anything that compromises this transaction I will expose all of your illegal activities to the public".
The client was left in shock at the conclusion of that final statement, "What do you mean 'all my illegal activities?!'". This was always Josephine's favorite part of the transaction call. While her clients would often spend most of their time trying to find ways out of paying, she'd spend part of her time finding ways to make sure they pay. This individual in particular had a long list of dirty secrets which she'd have no problem with showing to the world. "Just know that I'm aware of all the skeletons in your closet and if you try to steal from me I will take everything from you...the directions have been sent, the transaction will take place tomorrow at 5am", with the press of a key the call was ended and Josephine exited the Net Room. Once she was back in the living room, with the pull of the nearby wall light, the false wall slid back into place leaving virtually no sign that there was a room behind it. "Now to relax and wait for the deadline", heading to the bedroom Josephine passed by a mirror on her way there. It had been twenty years since the incident and as a result she looked as if she had barely aged a few years. "Gotta love cybernetics", she thought to herself with a smile that quickly vanished soon after. The memories after her operation along with the knowledge of what she'd done beforehand still haunted her to this day. Still she had a second chance at life and while it wasn't the American dream it was the best she could do with her skill set.
Once in her room she grabbed a small touchpad and with a few quick taps the house sound system began to shuffle through her music library. If any aspects of her past life survived it was her love of music. Josephine could listen to music for hours and it was then that she'd be at peace with herself. It was as if the outside world simply fade away into the entrancing sounds she'd envelope herself in. However even as she lay on the bed trying her best to drift into the music her memories of first waking up after the blacksite still filled her mind while everything else was a blur. Despite desperately trying to push these thoughts out of her mind her attempts were to no avail. Frustrated beyond belief Josephine headed for the shower with the hope that perhaps the warm waters would ease her mind. Once in the shower, Josephine let the hot water cascade down her body as the steam began to fog the various mirrors in the rather large bathroom. "Twenty years and the only memory I remember best is that...", she thought to herself as she raised her head to let the water wash over her face. Josephine remembered that day so vividly it was as if she was still there. She could feel the searing pain as the flesh which already hung from her body was pulled with each involuntary muscle movement. She could feel the immense pressure from the endoskeleton that was attached to the remaining half of her skull. Her head felt as if it had been sawed open, filled with razors, then bolted shut and shaken. The rest of her body felt like molten steel was being poured on whatever areas could still feel anything at all. In that moment Josephine felt real pain for the first time in her life; not when she'd taken multiple bullet wounds in her previous profession, not when she was beaten to a bloody pulp, it was when she awoke after death. In that moment all she wanted was to be given what they'd just taken from her. Josephine had wanted to die.
Mood Music
Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell being rung. Hurrying out of the shower she wrapped herself in her towel to see who it was. At one end of her room there was a small screen which showed whoever was at the front door. While she wasn't too surprised to see Cole at her door it was rather untimely. With some speed in her step she headed downstairs to answer the door and upon opening it revealed the Commander of the Los Angeles CIR Sentinels. Cole's eyes widened once he realized Josephine was wearing only a towel and he quickly averted his eyes to avoid the look from her which he was all too familiar with. "Oh uh sorry is this a bad time?", he asked as he looked to the side. Josephine simply turned away from the door and began to walk back into the house. "As a matter of fact yes it is, I was just in the shower as you can see", she said with an annoyed tone in her voice as she quickly glanced into the living room to check if she had sealed the Net Room.
"Sorry about that I just wanted to stop by, maybe catch up since we haven't seen each other in a while", Cole had been here before, after the meeting with Natalie she brought him here and the trio had a short conversation mostly about Natalie's findings. Now he was back again but this time it was personal instead of for business. Josephine chuckled at Cole's remark, "'In a while' is putting it mildly", looking rather indignant as she headed back upstairs to change. Cole followed but was halted by the closing of her room door in his face. "Hold on a minute", was all Josephine said from behind the door. Cole, with no choice, headed downstairs to wait in the living room.
"Is Natalie home?", he asked as Josephine finally came downstairs dressed in a rather unusual attire for the afternoon. She was wearing an outfit similar to the one she favoured during her time as a Warden. The only difference was that it was all black with a hood and a light scarf hung from her shoulders. "You should know, she works for you after all, doesn't she?", from behind the door Josephine began to sound rather annoyed by the entire conversation. "Natalie is in R&D, actually. But that's not why I came here", that stung at Josephine as she looked away towards a picture of herself and Natalie. "Of course not, no you're here to 'catch up' right? What's there for you to catch up with? You left, I had Natalie and we lived fine without you"
"Josie-"
"No you don't get to call me that! You don't get to act like we're good friends who've just been busy for a few weeks! You abandoned me and for twenty years I had to survive on my own and at the same time raise our child who you couldn't give a single shit about could you?!"
"You think I don't care? For fuck's sake she's my daughter of course I care about her! I'd do anything to keep her safe!"
"Then why the hell did you leave?", there was a long silence that felt so intense in comparison to the yelling which echoed throughout the house mere moments ago. "...I had no choice", was Cole's only response before Josephine laughed sarcastically as she walked away into the kitchen. "You know I had no choice, Josephine! You know that so don't you dare make this sound as if I just left in the middle of the night!"
"You did have a choice! You could hve stayed, put this all behind you, and we could have lived fine, probably in this same house together, and Natalie would have had a father and a real family!", Josephine was at this point pouring herself a glass from her wine shelf. "I couldn't stay! I had a duty to my country, to our kind!", Cole had followed close behind and was separated from Josephine by the island in the kitchen which he stood at the opposite side of. "But not to your family right? Noooo, the noble Cole Harland must put the needs of others above all else!"
"Natalie wasn't even around then, how was I supposed to know I should have stayed?!"
"BECAUSE I WAS THERE!", another deafening silence filled the room before Josephine spoke again. "Because I was there. I was there with you and after all we went through you left to go play the hero again.."
"I'm sorry-"
"Sorry isn't enough. Because it's not just me you need to make it up to, you owe Natalie as well"
"I will make it up to you both, I promise you that"
"When Cole? When will that be? Because I'm not going to wait another twenty years and neither will she"
"Right now I'm dealing with a serious case but I promise you both, when it's done I will walk away"
Josephine hung her head low as she began to laugh morosely with her face veiled by her long black hair. "Just go Cole...this has been enough 'catching up' for one night", Josephine wouldn't let him see her tears. She turned away from him and leaned against the island looking out the nearby window. Cole quietly headed towards the kitchen exit but stopped just outside it. "You know I always thought about you after I left...", he said with a much more sullen voice then what he had when he first arrived. "That so?", Josephine replied, still not looking in his direction as she tried to subtly wipe the tears rolling down her face.
"Every day I'd think back to the day I left and every time I'd playback what we said to each other", Cole said nothing more and Josephine listened to his footsteps as he approached the door. The second she heard it close she slammed the wine glass onto the kitchen floor. | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons.
Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie |
8,239 | 222 | 13 | 29 | 5,207 | (OK! HERE'S PART 2 COMING AT YA!)
Things had taken a turn for the dull for Aaron. After being assigned a new squad much of his day would be spent in the training rooms or in the various recreational rooms. Today was no different as he found himself in the training room sparring with whoever was up to it. Unfortunately that was not the case, so far anyone who wasn't already sparring with someone else was making a go at the punching bags. "Alright I guess I'll just go it alone then", he thought to himself as he headed towards the weights. "Not sure how much longer I can sit around doing nothing", he thought as he started doing bench presses. "No spotter, no problem", a grin came over his face as he piled on the weight to the bar, "Alright let's do this".
Ace's life wasn't any easier. Soon after she had woken up from her prosthesis she was told of her situation and how she was going to be working as a Sentinel; and ever since then she has felt broken. She has, since that fateful day, been training hard to distract herself in the gym and today was no different. Ace entered the gym wearing a spandex tank top and a pair of leggings that exposed the multiple scars that run up and down her arms, legs, and shoulders. Soon after entering she tied her hair up in a pony tail as she eyed the other Sentinels, that were either sparing or working out on the weights. She sighed slightly annoyed as she had been hoping to blow off some steam by sparing, but at the moment it had looked like everyone had been busy.
"ok.... so I guess I won't be taking on anybody today..... great..." Ace mumbled to herself feeling fairly annoyed. She made her wasy to an open punching bag and shuffled a few times before punching it as hard as she could, keeping light on her feet the entire time.
"This was a waste of time, I might as well just go to the rec room or something. I need something to distract me", Aaron couldn't help but feel like he could be doing something worthwhile with his time. Unfortunately until the rest of his team was brought up to speed he'd be spending a lot more time getting acquainted with the training and rec rooms. Just as he was about to head for the exit he spotted someone who looked relatively familiar. She was working on the punching bags and while he couldn't see her entire face the half he could see struck him as one he'd seen before. Grabbing his comm pad from his duffel bag Aaron brought up his squad's roster and just as he suspected she was his teammate. "Huh well I guess now's as good a time as any", he said to himself as he walked over. "Hey, Ace Stahl right?", Aaron asked as he closed the gap between the two of them "Aaron Walsh, looks like we'll be working together for a while". Aaron extended his hand towards Ace, making sure not to have his powers active at the time. Not that it mattered though as she appeared to be wearing boxing gloves, still he could never be too careful.
At first, Ace wanted to just ignore Aaron and continue working out, but in her current situation it seemed impossible. Ace stopped and took a step back before examining the new arrival. She sighed as she removed the boxing glove, revealing her pair of gloves with the tips of the fingers cut off underneath, before shaking his hand. "Yeah a pleasure." she replied warmly. She looked him in the eyes for a moment and instantly acknowledged him as a gifted before continuing, "hold on.... I remember you... yeah... Cole told me about you. So you're the Sarge that Cole was talking about. Well I certainly look forward to working with you." Ace released her grip on Aaron's hand and grinned softly.
"I hope he only told you the good things about me", Aaron looked over to the sparring mats and noticed one was clear "hey you up for some sparring? We can talk more there, that is if you can handle both". The fact that Ace referred to the commander by his first name caught his attention. Aaron was casual with most of his superiors but he didn't have the balls to refer to Commander Harland by his first name.
"Sure, as long as you can handle getting your ass handed to you." Ace replied amused. She then made her way to the sparing matts with Aaron and got in a readying stance. "I'm ready when you are." She called over to him smirking, she had an amused glint in her eyes. She knew that Aaron had no idea what he was getting himself into, but at the same time Ace kept herself from getting too cocky as she knew that it would lead to her downfall otherwise.
"So I gotta ask", was the first thing Aaron said before he darted towards Ace, "how do you know the commander? I mean no one else dares to call him anything but Sir or Commander Harland" once he was close enough Aaron slid towards Ace with the hope of catching her with a leg sweep.
Ace's expression quickly turned solumn as she jumped up and over Aaron then quickly turned around replying, "well yah see..." She quickly too a step back before continuing, "I've know Cole for a long time, I guess you could say I had a part to play in taking down President Callahan and that's a major reason as to why I know him." Ace remained on the defensive as she waited for an opening to attack.
"Wait so you're the Ace Stahl?! I can't believe I didn't realize sooner. Don't they have a statue or something of the whole group back in Manhattan?", Aaron stepped forward carefully watching Ace's movements as he came in for a right cross followed by an uppercut.
Ace ducked then leaned back, dodging both attacks. She quickly recovered and then countered with a an uppercut to the stomach, she holding back a bit before taking another few steps back. "Yeah... Not the best chapter of my life and the memorial was the Conclave's idea. I unfortunately didn't have much say on the matter." She replied.
"That was a bad time for everyone...still it's an honor to be working with you. Hopefully we get an assignment soon and we can really see eachother in action", Aaron had at this point already recovered from the blow to his stomach and was now circling Ace and looking for an opportunity to strike. She wasn't the average CIR operative so Aaron didn't have to hold back. First came a kick to her knee followed by a left swing to her side then a right jab at her shoulder, Aaron didn't stop there as he then tried once more for a leg sweep. The idea was to just overwhelm Ace until she didn't notice the leg sweep until it was too late. "You don't have to answer but what happened during that time? The media was pretty confused at the time and to hear what happened from someone who was there would be great", of course there had been documentaries about the rebellion and what went down but it was always from people who read reports of what happened. This was an opportunity to hear the reality of what happened and a chance to get to know his squadmate better.
Ace kept her composure as she took the first few blows but when Aaron came in again to leg sweep; she quickly dodged and countered again by catching one of his legs with her own and then kicked the back of his other knee cap and knocked him off balance before quickly pinning him down. "It was hell." She replied as she catched her breath. At the angle Aaron was at, he could clearly see the scar from the gunshot wound she received at the blacksite 20 years ago.
"I take it that that's a souvenir from back then?", he said looking towards the scar. "Can't say I've got one but I did lose something. My dad died fighting the DMA, pretty much why I'm here today. But you've already fought and the others, even the commander, have settled down. So why are you still fighting?"
Ace released Aaron and plopped herself on the ground and sighed, "Because I don't have a reason to stop or slow down. I keep fighting because I keep getting reasons to protect the peace my friends and I created. Until I know that this world is safe; I can't stop fighting."
"Well then if that's the case", Aaron got to his feet and reached out his hand to help Ace up, "It'll be fun fixing the world as a team".
Ace grinned as she accepted the hand offered to her and was lifted up to her feet. "It most certainly will." She replied smiling warmly. | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,240 | 222 | 14 | 2,134 | 491 | Norville started to sweat almost the instant he stepped into the training room. All the body heat hit him like a wave as he made his way to the side wall with the machines. "Let's see who is in my squad." he thought to himself as he set up his water and notepad into their respective spots on the treadmill before he set himself up at a decent jogging pace. He quickly pulled up his small squad on his notepad. He already knew the names Aaron Walsh and Ace Stahl, he just wanted to put faces to the names so he scrolled on past the introductory to the bottom and instantly recognized Ace. She was his last patient before he was brought over to the CIR and joined the Sentinels. He had stumbled in the shock and quickly glanced around hoping no one saw his fault but was greeted by the sight of his two squad mates on a sparring mat. His face had turned a deep red from its normal pale shade as he hoped that this would not be his first impression on them. He turned back to his notepad and tried to recompose himself before he was embarrassed further. | Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry. |
8,241 | 222 | 15 | 2,775 | 56 | A soldier forced the tent flap out of the way and stepped in. Awaiting him on the other side was Kyle sat before a fold out-desk. He was scrutinizing piles of handwritten notes. He glanced up to the interloper with a grin. "Hey Jack. What can I do you for?" he chirped.
"I just saw the truck head off. That mission you had in mind... who'd you pick?" Jack asked, stepping further in. Kyle offered him a seat. He then held the sheaf of papers up, flicked through them, and then picked out the relevant ones and set them out before Jack, tapping the cluster for emphasis.
As Jack picked up the files and perused them, Kyle answered. "Sam Helter. 19."
Jack's expression faltered into shock. Kyle's remained as is. "19? And he's on his own? He's going to--"
"Get killed. Yeah, I know." Kyle said absently as he shifted forward in his seat, smile still in place. "I know, it sucks, it sucks a lot, but... well, read on. The kid's a headcase. Daddy beat his mommy, mommy beat him. For some reason thinks it's the fucking metahumans that are to blame for his parents being so wretched. He's also the one that's been cutting up the wildlife, according to testimonies of a few of the men. So long as we keep him in our organization, he's a danger to everyone around us. Making use of him is better than just kicking him out, which runs the risk of defection."
Jack huffed, shaking his head as his eyes scanned the papers in his hands. "You're right, I suppose. But making a sacrificial pawn out of the kid? Have him spill his guts at a university of all places?"
Kyle nodded, smile becoming a grin. "Uhuh! Gotta remind people we're out here some how, let 'em know we still carry on the fight. Surely there's others out there who are just sick to death of living under the heel of our old enemies, yeah? Besides, it's a -Conclave- University. It's a free fire zone, as far as I'm concerned. Honestly, how many non-metas do you -really- expect would end up at such a place, huh? It's not the god damn Hand in Hand Galilee School in Israel. It's by muties, for muties. Humans are second class citizens. By very nature, even."
Jack once again breathed heavily and shifted forward to lean against the desk elbowfirst, his fingers tracing along his moustache in contemplation. "How many... something between some and none, yeah. But... he's still one of us. And throwing him away for a... a massacre. It just doesn't feel right, you know?"
Kyle sunk low to the desk to meet Jack's gaze, fingers steepled. "When I returned home from the Second Crimean War, I got swamped with protesters. Among the usual soundbites, like 'murderer', 'fascist', 'baby killer', I also got a new one: 'You're being used! You're just disposable heroes!' The way I see it, we have no martyrs that aren't years and years old. I'm already feeling the downward tug of apathy setting in. The way I see it, we need some disposable heroes to stoke the engine," Kyle tilted his head slightly, "Yes? No? Phone a friend?"
______________________________________
Sam Helter had been dumped in the wilderness, not far from Manhattan's perimeter, but it was still a fair walk away, and several bus trips, to get to his destination. It was difficult for him to resist the temptation of bringing a hand to the bag that hung from him by a strap that was slung over his shoulder. He pressed his hand deeply and drew it along the grooves of the carbine concealed within. "This is real," he thought to himself, "I've been waiting all my life for this." His grin beamed, and he tremored with excitement.
The iron lettering of the sign crowning the hill ahead spelled out "The Manhattan Memorial Institute." His objective and destiny were so close now. | Howdy! This looks hella neat, and I'd like to join. My character is a bit of a port/alternate universe version of a character from a slightly older RP similar to this ("Forest of Secrets"), if that's okay. I've rewritten things to try and make it more fitting to this particular setting, of course. Bear in mind this is a bit of a draft, until some things are cleared up/problems are pointed out, etc.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie
In the other RP, he and his original team of buddies had power armor + combat stims to better the odds of surviving encounters with metahumans. I wasn't sure if that'd fit into your idea of technology in this particular setting, so I figured it'd be better to just ask if it's okay to throw that in. Of course that'd just be Kyle and the original Storm Hounds with power armor, not newer recruits to his anti-metahuman organization. Without proper maintenance crews, the power armor would be of dodgy condition and with a lot of improvised maintenance by this time, given they've been on the run for so long. |
8,242 | 222 | 16 | 2,459 | 3,178 | Previously...
Mood Music
Ace awoke to the sounds of medical equipment. She blinked slowly a few times as her eyes adjusted before finally sitting up. She winced from a sharp pain in her stomach. "Ow... Jesus.... What happened...?"
Jack on the other hand was well on his way to Cole's office. He burst through the door to Cole's office before finally stopping. He was breathing heavily and was drenched with sweat but he was smiling and had a look of relief, "Cole.... She's awake... My little girl is finally awake...." He replied before finally collapsing on his knees; he hadn't run like this for a while and he knew he wasn't as young as he used to be but he wanted to tell Cole personally of the great news.
Cole jumped out of his seat the second Jack said, "She's awake". "How's she feeling? Did she seem off in any way?", Cole asked as he headed for the door. He was confident the CIR could help her but it was Ace personally he was concerned about. They needed to figure out who did this to her and if she had any memories of what happened Cole hoped she'd be in the mood to share.
"She's fine. Just sore and a little tired." Jack replied as he got up and followed closely behind Cole. "I haven't told her about what happened yet.... So I think we should hold off on telling her about the prosthesis until after we figure out who did this..." He knew that if they had told Ace of the prosthesis; she wouldn't want to talk.
They soon arrived at Ace's room. Jack opened the door and replied, "hey sweetie, I came to see you... And I brought a guest with me... Can we come in?"
Ace directed her attention to the two figures at the door; she instant recognized Jack and smiled warmly. "Yeah sure.... Come on in..." Her voice was tired but warm and gentle. She gestured them to come in.
Cole slowly stepped into the room with a slight smile which in a second became that all too familiar stern look he wore. "Been a while Ace, it's good to see ya but I wish it wasn't under these circumstances", Cole was speaking but his mind was going at a mile a minute. Every possible reason as to why or how this happened was being played out in his head yet he couldn't figure out who could do this.
For a split second Ace's expression was that of shock but she quickly regained her composure and warm smile as she replied, "I agree. I had planned on staying hidden for much longer." Unlike her expression, that she wore so well, her voice was cool and crisp. To be perfectly honest, she was overjoyed to see her beloved friend but at the same time she was utterly embarrassed for Cole to have seen her in the condition she was in.
"Do you remember how you got here? What happened before you arrived?", while he didn't wish to get straight to business, Cole had to find whoever did this to her. Whoever they were, for them to go up against a meta like Ace was not good for their health. These people were either very lucky or very skilled. That meant that if these people weren't brought in soon there'd be another incident like this or worse.
Ace sighed," Jesus... You haven't changed a bit since I last saw you....it's kinda disappointing.... Though I gotta say... I didn really see you as a President of a large company such as the CIR.... But then again I guess I don't know you all that well to begin with..." She was avoiding the questions. She looked at Cole dead in the eyes before continuing. "Of course I know who it was that did this to me and I plan on giving them hell for it. Unfortunately I am not authorized to give you that information." she smirked. This was her way of pay back to mess with Cole.
Mood Music
Cole smirked as he rounded her bedside and over to the window. "Between you and me I'd rather be out in the field but I'm afraid if I do that my back will give out. Perks of being old", he said as he glanced back between Ace and the window. There was some confusion when he heard Ace say she was unauthorized to tell him but quickly picked up on the joke. "Really? That's too bad then, I was going to give you access to the armory...speaking of which...there's something you need to know", Cole looked over to Jack with a sullen look that he knew Jack would understand it's meaning.
Jack listened quietly until he noticed where the conversation was going, "don't you dare." Jack replied threateningly his eyes locked with Cole', his eyes were cold and showed killing intention.
"She deserves to know what happened, Jack. If anything it'll only strengthen her resolve to find the suspects if getting beaten half to death wasn't enough", tensions were high and the last thing he wanted was a brawl in the hospital room. With a sigh Cole turned to Ace before pausing to assess he situation, "Ace...you weren't just jumped. Whoever it was that attacked you put you on your death bed. We had to act fast...so we implanted a cybernetic replacement or your liver". Cole waited for Ace's reaction before telling her of the second half of the deal. This was not something you could rush and he was already doing just so.
" I-I see..." Her voice trembled as she hugged herself tightly. Ace hid her face as tears ran down her cheek. Her entire body was trembling. "I see..." She repeated. On the inside, Ace was desperately trying to hold herself back from taking the nearest sharp object and use it to carve out the thing that was currently keeping her alive.
"I'm sorry Ace but it was the only thing we could do to keep you alive, at least until we figure out a permenant solution", Cole didn't want to tell her the last part. How could he? To wake up and learn you've been saved only to serve as a soldier was not something the average person wanted to wake up to. Even though Ace was more than the average individual Cole knew it was still wrong for Ace to be forced to work for the CIR. "We had no choice", he kept telling himself, not that it made the feeling of guilt go away. Finally after noticeable silence Cole spoke again, "There is also one other thing...the CIR covered your operation on the condition you work for them for a certain amount of time. How long I don't know, I'm supposed to receive news on how long after you wake up".
"So you need me to work for you and clean up the mess you made... That's why you kept me alive?! Because I'm some kind of tool at your disposal?! I'm sorry to break it to you but I'm not a weapon!" Ace yelled, her voice was filled with a burning rage. She was loosing quickly control of herself and her gift. Suddenly the heater in her room caught fire; it quickly spread directly towards Cole and wraped around him, encasing him in a burning prison that one misstep could leave Cole with a nasty burn.
Things had gotten real bad real fast and in Cole's situation there wasn't much he could do without setting himself aflame in the process. "I did it to save you, Ace!", Cole yelled over the roaring blaze surrounding him "You would have died if we didn't, there was no other way!".
"Then you should've just let me die!" Ace yelled, making the room fall silent. The fire surrounding Cole died down to the point where he could now step over it wiith no problem. "Do you have any idea what it's like being a monster? To know that a part of you is slowly getting stronger and in the process is slowly killing you? Do you know how that feels, Cole?!" Ace was crying heavily, a part of her nobody else has seen before, not even Jack.
Mood Music
"You were with us when we fought the DMA. You saw what I had to do to keep us safe. If anyone is a monster here its me", Cole's mind wandered to the time he first gained his powers. He killed a man for the first time in his life and from then on he's only done so again and again.
Ace broke out into a fit of laughter, "you really have no idea what I've been doing for the past 15 year, do you? Ignorance must be blissful." she continued to laugh for a bit longer before continuing, " come here, Cole. I've got something that will make you realize how much of a 'monster' you really are." Ace gestured Cole to take a seat next to he as she pulled out an object wrapped with documents dating back as far as 15 years ago. All of the papers were detailed reports on all of the jobs Ace had taken on for the past 15 years; containing a brief description of the overall job and the statistics on the kills, injured, and missing people caused by her; the numbers were frightening to say the least.
"...you've been busy...I guess that makes us monsters together then", Cole glanced at the various reports before looking back to Ace. "Ace you know I did this for you. If there was any other way you know I would have taken it. For now at least you'll be back on your feet until we can find a way to fix the problem. In the meantime, you'll be working with a Sentinel team. You'll get your assignments some time soon but while you wait speak to Sergeant Walsh, he'll be your squadmate for the remainder of your time here. He's pretty casual, a little too casual, but all in all a pleasant person to work with. Cole looked away and sighed, this line of work had made him focused on business, a quality he could live without. "I'm sorry it had to be this way Ace. While you're working for us I'll have people look into this further. Like I said speak to Walsh, fill him in and he'll do what he can to help whenever the two of you are free". A low beep went off on Cole's phone which he quickly answered by turning on his phone. He stared at the screen for only a moment before getting up to head for the door, "I hate to leave like this but i have a meeting with some R&D scientist. I'll see you later, okay?"
"....yeah.... see yah...." Ace sighed as she hugged herself tightly, she was tired and has had enough for one day. For her, this was the first time she had felt truely broken in her entire life. The people who did this to her were going to have hell to pay; Ace was going to make sure of that. Ace glanced back at Cole one final time before finally replying to the questions Cole asked her prior. "The people that did this to me were the same people that have been killing off your Enforcers....They plan on picking us off one by one.... like flies... I was only the first one on their list.... once they figure out that I'm still alive... they'll be back to finish what they started..... and then they'll come after all of us.... Just like the DMA did 20 years ago except this time.... it won't be just Gifted; they'll be going after the humans, too. This wasn't just the work of the Scions..... it was also the Storm Hounds.... Cole, they don't just want us dead.... they want to start a war."
While this all went down; Jack listened quietly until he heard the part of who Ace's attackers were. Jack froze in fear. He glanced at Ace for a brief moment with a worried expression on his face before following Cole out the door. He then grabed Cole's shoulder before quietly replying, "Hey I'm sorry for not intervening back there but I feared that if I had done something; it would have only made the situation worse.....Look. I just wanted to say that... the reason why Ace can say these kinds of things to you is because she loves you very much and you're very dear to her..... Your like the brother she should've had... Now a' days... there aren't many people Ace can truly call her family..." | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons.
Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie |
8,243 | 222 | 17 | 2,775 | 56 | Sam was now on the campus grounds. Previously he had been darting from wall to wall, hugging close to them to avoid notice, as he had seen in his movies and videogames. One problem: he was noticed. After being called a "Sperg" one too many times by the people who caught onto what he was doing, he made his way through the university like anyone else, through the crowds of people swarming to and fro. When a student got too near, he darted to the side. "So much heterochromia. So many muties. Disgusting." He thought to himself. That last word echoed in his mind with vehemence. "Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting."
He had at last pulled into a corridor that appeared empty. He slumped against a wall and huffed heavily.
He was jolted to alertness by a sudden voice. "What's got you in such a hurry? You look so stressed...!"
A girl had followed him. "An attractive one..." Sam mentally noted. He froze as she drew close to him. "Say, I haven't seen you around here before." She said pleasantly, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
As she brushed hair out of the way of one of her eyes, Sam's heart nearly sprang from his throat. "Heterochromia! A mutie!" He winced with intense revulsion and forced his eyes shut. Sam suddenly darted away from her and sprinted down the hall.
The girl paused for a moment, then shrugged. "How strange. I hope he'll be alright." she said to herself, then carried on with her day.
Sam had took a turn into a restroom. He didn't take the time to note which gender it was intended for. He looked in the mirror. His mid-length light brown hair was a mess. His face was tomato red and he was drenched with sweat. He followed the lines of the scars he had received from many a beating that cracked his face here and there. "I... I can do this." he reassured himself.
Sam swung the bag onto the sink, then reached for the zipper. He fetched from within several magazines, stuffing his pockets to burst with them. Finally, he retrieved the main attraction: the carbine. He pointed it at his reflection. "Fuck I look cool." he thought to himself. He shook his thoughts away, then headed back out.
As he left the restroom, he noticed across the hall the double doors of a lecture room. He approached slowly, then quickened his step. He tried to kick the door open, but didn't have enough strength to pull it off. He forced down his embarrassment and reached for the knob, then made his way in.
As expected, the eyes of the rows of students and the professor as well were already on the doorway, having heard the loud crash of his kick. He swallowed, then raised the carbine at his mostly baffled, hardly shocked audience.
Sam cleared his throat. "J-J-Jes... Jesus... s-sent... m... m--" Sam stammered. "Shit! I've been thinking of how this was supposed to go all morning! Damn it! Damn it!" He thought, followed by a rapid sputtering of curse words.
As frightened as the students were, some snorted, others chuckled. One called out, "T-t-today, junior!" This was followed by outright laughter and many more jeers.
"S-shut up!" Sam called out as he swung the barrel of the carbine around the hall, pointing its barrel here and there like an accusatory finger. This only worsened the situation for him. The urge to laugh had fully overcome the fear of death among all those in the hall. Sam's eye twitched.
"SHUT... UUUUP!" Sam yelled as his finger slammed back on the trigger. A first burst of fire cut down the professor. He then directed the burning lead onto others in the crowd. The massacre commenced. | Howdy! This looks hella neat, and I'd like to join. My character is a bit of a port/alternate universe version of a character from a slightly older RP similar to this ("Forest of Secrets"), if that's okay. I've rewritten things to try and make it more fitting to this particular setting, of course. Bear in mind this is a bit of a draft, until some things are cleared up/problems are pointed out, etc.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie
In the other RP, he and his original team of buddies had power armor + combat stims to better the odds of surviving encounters with metahumans. I wasn't sure if that'd fit into your idea of technology in this particular setting, so I figured it'd be better to just ask if it's okay to throw that in. Of course that'd just be Kyle and the original Storm Hounds with power armor, not newer recruits to his anti-metahuman organization. Without proper maintenance crews, the power armor would be of dodgy condition and with a lot of improvised maintenance by this time, given they've been on the run for so long. |
8,244 | 222 | 18 | 29 | 5,207 | Back in Manhattan, Jack was on his way to work at the lecture hall. Jack had to return to work soon after Ace had woken up; to his misfortune. He had recently adjusted back to the mundane life as a college professor and everyday had seemed just like the last: mundane. He expected that today would be just as it was yesterday and the day before that and even the day prior to that. However, he couldn't be any further from the truth.
Upon entering the Manhattan Memorial University, everything seemed normal; students and teachers alike were either chatting or on their way to the next lecture. That sense of normality quickly faded into oblivion; when Jack heard the sound of gunfire cut through the air. Chaos.
Students and teachers were running for their lives, desperately running for the nearest exit, breaking windows, cutting down doors, pushing and shoving, and leaving others to die; all hell had broken loose in what felt like an instant. The sounds of gunfire thundered down like a storm as the chaos ensued.
Jack fought his way to the epicenter of the chaos and found a young man who was stained with the blood of students and teachers and had a gun in his hand. The boy stood in front of the doorway to a classroom with a terrified, yet proud and excited, expression on his face; his body trembling with adrenaline.
The boy seemed to have not noticed Jack yet; so Jack took this chance to his advantage. "Stop!" He ordered.
The boy must've not heard him for he continued his rampage.
"I said 'Stop!', damn it!" Jack repeated, furious.
This time the boy froze in his tracks. He slowly looked up at Jack, his eyes wild with terror. He attempted to point the gun at Jack but Jack was quicker to respond, "Drop your gun now!" Jack ordered.
The boy reluctantly obeyed Jacks command. Confusion and an immense amount of fear flooded the boys mind. Little did he know that this was all thanks to Jack's gift. In the boys case; Jack's word was law. He couldn't help but obey.
"Now stand still! You are under arrest for murder." Jack ordered.
The boy desperately wanted to run but could not and stood still, helplessly as Jack tightly fastened a pair of handcuffs to his wrists.
Jack looked back into the room the boy was standing in front of and saw the corpse of a professor and 10 or more students. He sighed as he led the boy out to his car where he'd personally escort the boy to the nearest CIR station for questioning and his punishment.
"Ain't no rest for the wicked, I suppose." Jack thought to himself.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ace had just finished her sparring match with Aaron when she had noticed a familiar towhead whose face was buried in a notebook. It was Norville, and upon further inspection, Ace had noticed that his face was a touch on the rosy side. Of course, whether it was from embarrassment or heat; Ace couldn't tell the difference.
She approached him smiling, " Hey, kiddo! I didn't expect you to be here! I thought physical stimulus wasn't your thing?" She hugged him then discretely whispered, " hey are you doing okay? You're a little red in the face. You shouldn't come in here if the heat is bothering you this much."
She then released him and her warm smile returned before continuing the conversation prior, " This is Sarg. Aaron Walsh, he's going to be on our team." She gestured to Aaron before continuing, "Aaron, this is Norville. He's going to be our team's medic." | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,245 | 222 | 19 | 2,134 | 491 | Norville smiled as he returned the hug. "Don't worry Miss Stahl, I have ways to beat the heat." He smiled wide as his skin started to lose the rosy color of being overheated. He forced the sweat on his skin to turn to ice, which created a thin sheet of ice over his exposed skin. After Ace introduced Aaron Walsh, he turned to him with a kind smile. "Sargent Walsh, it is a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand to shake as he gave a quick glance to Ace. "Oh miss Stahl, I see you recovered well." He turned his gaze back to Aaron Walsh. "Try not to let miss Stahl win all the time, we don't need her getting too hot headed." | Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry. |
8,246 | 222 | 20 | 2,459 | 3,178 | Eh I figured I'd let her win the first one. Builds confidence before going into the field, Aaron replied with a smirk as he looked to Ace then back to Norville. Aaron noticed the ice forming over Norville's skin, "Type 2? He's got a physical that much is clear. If he's a 3 the hopefully the psychological ain't mind reading or something creepy". It took only a second for Aaron to realize the irony of that statement and once he did he had to stifle a laugh. "Speaking of fieldwork, any of you have an idea of when that'll be for us? I'd rather not spend the rest of my career in the training room", looking at his comms pad the squad roster showed that the present three members were cleared but had no active assignments. There was another member who from what the dossier said was undergoing "Orientation". "Three man team? I guess we could pull it off. Two physicals and a psyche can do some serious damage, especially with these eyes", Aaron glanced around the training room before finally deciding his time here was up.
"Hey you two doing anything tonight? Wanna go get some drinks or something? I've been stuck in this tower for so long I'm up for pretty much anything", grabbing his bags Aaron looked to his squadmates for their answer. He'd go out anyway if they declined but it'd still be fun to have others to converse with. "Look at you Walsh, giving it your all to make friends today?", he said to himself before checking his comms pad once more. "Shit, are either of you getting this on your pads!?", Aaron turned his pad around to show the news coverage of the shooting at Manhattan Memorial Institute. The cameras displayed a mass of CIR officers moving into the building before stumbling upon the numerous corpses scattered throughout the halls. The camera cut back to a reporter behind a police line interviewing one of the on-site officers and in the background Jack could clearly be seen escorting the shooter into CIR custody. "Fuckin' Storm Hounds man...", was all Aaron said. He knew this guy had to be Storm Hound, most would assume he was a member of The Scions but to Aaron the shooter didn't come off as the type to be a Scion. That and most don't let themselves get taken into custody, preferring to die in combat than be apprehended. | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
John Reynolds
Age: 46
Eye Colors: Left is Brown, Right is like...Bluish Purple
Personality
John is a rather calm and kind man, and has developed into more of an optimist than the pessimist that some had once considered him to have been. He cares very strongly for his family, and will do anything he can to help them should they need it...and that extends, to a degree, out to old friends like Cole and Ace. Additionally, he hasn't told anyone yet, but his gift has begun to affect his mental state; at times he will experience unprovoked flashes of images, memories, and/or visions...and he knows they aren't his, but they are all about him.
Type: Type 1
Abilities
Psychological:
John has the power of telepathy, and can use his power to read minds or communicate over long distances. He has been trained to use his powers to track down other gifted, though his superiors think he is only a Type 4 Gifted, and so he has secretly trained himself how to read minds and communicate telepathically.
Bio
John grew up as a fairly normal kid, taking a great liking to video games and movies and books. He enjoyed watching and reading these fantasies, and wished he could be in one himself. But as time went on John realized what an impossible dream that might be, because he began to notice that he was just a nobody. There was nothing truly special about him, and aside from being slightly above average in school - he really didn't do anything else. No sports, no extracurricular activities, no nothing. Just your average Joe...or...John. That is, until his eighteenth birthday; where his right eye changed color and he began to sense these...things. He didn't know what he was feeling, but one day he got curious enough to follow one of these 'feelings', and he came up to a house just as the authorities arrived at the door. He took cover and watched as the house was raided and a girl was taken out...she had mismatched eye colors, just like him! What was happening?! Why did they want her? Was it cause her eyes were different?! John figured they might want to take him away too, and he wanted to run away from here before he was noticed...but...that girl...she needed help. She was struggling and resisting, then suddenly she looked at John and screamed to him for help. His mind seared with an intense sensation, and he recognized it as the 'feeling' he followed over here...but...wait...the men who were capturing her turned and saw him. He panicked and got up to run, but...no...the sensation filled his head...and he felt brave...he had to help, he had to try.
John tried in vain, and was captured. The girl and him were taken and enslaved; John was trained and forced to work as a hunter to find more gifted, and to the best of John's knowledge...the girl was strapped into a chair, forced to incite bravery into the hunters in training.
For a time, he worked as a Hunter Agent for the DMA, tracking down Gifted to capture them. He did, however, feel a great deal of remorse doing so, and was known to even go out of his way to protect the lives of Gifted with harmless abilities. It was this mercy that eventually led him to meet a young girl, Mayumi, who's parents had been killed by John's commanding officer in the attempt to locate her. Feeling sorry for the girl, and feeling tired of having to murder his own kind, John betrayed his officer by stabbing him in the back and helping the girl to escape.
Eventually he had investigated a lead concerning a possible orphanage for Gifted, where he once again met his future adopted daughter, Mayumi, and also met his future wife, Cia, who found out he was a spy and had at first threatened to kill him. They came to the agreement that John would help Cia find a friend who had been captured, and so the journey began.
At first, while John found Cia attractive, he was quite afraid of her power. Over time, though, he saw more of her compassionate side, especially with how she was so protective of the children in her orphanage. Around the same time he also had decided to not only help Cia out at her orphanage, but personally adopt Mayumi, as well.
Continuing on the path to expose Mallory and remove Callahan from office with the likes of Ace and Cole, John continued to bond with Cia. And once Mallory was dealt with, and the DMA severely wounded, John began to think of his new friends as family. But only after they had reached their ultimate goal of getting President Callahan impeached did he realize that he loved Cia, as it was finally safe and possible to no longer live in fear.
Eventually, as most of the original anti-Callahan group began to drift apart, John and Cia went on to get married. John helped her out at the orphanage, but also made sure to spend personal time with his newly adopted daughter Mayumi. For the time being, with treatment of Gifted improving quickly, life was good.
Post Example
Other
-Gained his powers at the age of 16.
-Is now married to Cia.
-He still carries his two telescoping shock batons he had been issued as a Hunter for the DMA.
-He's a naturally good tinkerer, and can take apart, put together, or just modify weapons.
Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie |
8,247 | 222 | 21 | 2,775 | 56 | Back at the Storm Hound's camp, not long after the departure of Sam Harris' truck.
Jack Hurtgen* was jolted awake from his midday snooze by the sound of an engine starting. As he unzipped his sleeping bag and rolled out, he heard a stereo playing a song distantly. "Aw hell," he said to himself, "What now?"
As Jack peeled away the door to his tent, the source of his disruption came into view of his tired, barely open eyes. Before him loomed the boxy figure of an armored truck, whose flanks were dotted with numerous handrails. Clinging to one of these was a fully suited up, combat ready Kyle, who was even wearing the original Storm Hound helmet. Back in service, they were prohibited from wearing them, and instead wore helmets of regular units. The Storm Hound helmet always had more than a slight resemblance to a modern redesign of the stahlhelm, which wasn't exactly the best image for a US military unit. Now they were free of such restrictions. Further along the rear cabin's walls and on the other side were even more fully armed and armoured Storm Hound soldiers, the artificial muscle of their suits allowing them to maintain their grips and positions indefinitely.
Jack blinked. Then blinked again. "Kyle, what the hell are you--"
Though the lower half of Kyle's face was concealed by his combat rebreather, the tone of his voice readily conveyed that he was smiling, even if the mask gave it a mechanical, slightly inhuman quality. "Hey Jack! Wanna come with?" he said enthusiastically. "Just don't try and get in the back of the truck. We've got stuff back there." He hastily added.
It was at this moment Jack noticed that in Kyle's free hand was the handle of a monstrously large, multi-barreled weapon, with a long belt of ammunition that snaked into a back mounted unit. Though this weapon would be otherwise prohibitively heavy, the power armor made light work of it.
"Kyle, what have you got there?" Jack asked as he stepped out from the tent.
"Ah, y'know. Chaingun. Pulled a few favours here and there with some old military buddies I've kept in contact with. Ones that -didn't- end up losing their jobs, I mean. Most of them are all high ranked now. Only got enough fuel and ammo for one engagement, but I intend to put that to use, yeah?"
Jack gave only a slight nod. He wasn't able to put any of the other thoughts whizzing through his mind into words. As he got closer, a mural on the side of the van came into view. Above it was spraypainted "Genoslide!", and the mural itself was a depiction of a playground slide. Riding down the curve of this slide was an emaciated corpse in a purple mask and cape; superhero garb. The exit of the mouth was positioned before a pit in the ground, one that contained many similarly gaudily dressed corpses.
"You like it?" Kyle asked. "Tom did it for me. He's really good, isn't he? Never knew we had a budding painter among us."
Jack grunted slightly, his fingers reaching his temples. "Yeah, it's a real masterpiece. Look, what's this all about? What about the kid, Sam Helter? Sam Skelter? I don't remember. Please just explain."
"Well, you see, Sam was always going to be a diversion, on top of the goals we'd already spoken about. Where we're headed is completely different. Besides, we've sent a few novices on the other truck to reinforce Sam, even if he's dead by now." Kyle nodded, then nodded again for quick measure. A slight giggle erupted from him.
At this, Jack's head fully shifted into his palm. "You're all on the combat stims again, aren't you? This is why I always avoided that stuff, you know.
"Yeah, well, you were never one for fun, were you? Still a damn good soldier. But man, you don't know what you're missing! Speaking of missing, we're getting worryingly close to 'late', so. Seeya!' Kyle gestured to the soldier adjacent adjacent to him, who in turn tapped on the roof of the driving compartment with the barrel of his LMG. With that, the truck picked up speed and rode off into the woods.
*
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
And now back to Sam Helter, in CIR custody
Sam's face was bright red and his face streaked with tears, his heavy breaths bringing up booger balloons from his nostrils. It wasn't the most glamorous appearance the boy has ever worn. "At least I fucking killed my parents on the way here." He mumbled not so quietly. The CIR investigator peered over his shoulder at him with a quizzical expression, then continued leading him on.
Sam winced greatly as he passed by the noticeboard on the wall of the CIR station, each poster and flier he saw promoting mindfulness, equality and all that other lovey-dovey mutie shit turning his stomach. "You know what you muties are?" Sam spat venemously. "A bunch of... a bunch of fucking hackers! In real life! I was getting all the leet headshots, and then the fucking beardo weirdo, like... I don't fucking know how he did it, man! It's just mad gay!" The CIR officer took this moment to remind him of his right to remain silent, dearly wishing he would take up this offer.
In acute frustration, Sam spun around and extended his handcuffed hands at his CIR escorts. "I'm not staying quiet until you tell me which of you mutie fucks was the one that made my dad hit my mom, and made my mom hit me! I'm not staying quiet until you tell me which of the beardo mind control men made my mom take away my Xbox 1488! I'm mad as hell, and I want answers!" He sputtered through his phlegm, mucus and tears. One of the officers glanced around and, when he noticed there were no journalists in range, leaned towards him and said, "Kid, please for the love of god, shut the fuck up. I bet Kyle Kruger himself would be cringing like a motherfucker if he was here to see this shit." The verbal backhand was successful, and Sam was brought to his cell in subdued silence, with his head hanging down.
As Sam was shoved behind bars, the officer called out, "And 'beardo' has a name, for your information! He's called Jack, and he deserves more respect than you're giving him, ya dingus!"
Sam slumped onto his bed and huffed. As he rubbed away his tears and snot on the pillow cover, he bitterly reflected on the fact that they hadn't let him bring his dakimakura of Rainbow Dash with him. Little did he realize, Kyle had made arrangements to have it chucked into a pit, covered in gasoline and set on fire shortly after his departure from the camp.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Back out on the highway, where the Storm Hounds are looking for adventure, and whatever comes their way
Kyle, his men and his truck had by now pulled onto the main road. They were surely noticed, but surely didn't care. The stereo blared music, and they all sang along. The armored truck sped down the NY 17 , without any regard for other traffic. Many cars had flung themselves off the road or into each other at the spectacle.
"We should be going south east if we're headed to New York City, shouldn't we boss?" Tom called out from the other side of the truck.
"Exactly!" Kyle called back.
Kyle breathed the chemicals dispensed by his rebreather deeply. Objects became mere jolts of colour that streaked and stretched beyond him as the truck sped by. Kyle giggled giddily as he was swallowed up by the velocity and the riot of sensations that engulfed him. The sound of wheels in motion, the voices of his men, the music, the beeping of horns, and the wind rushing by, all commingled together as one sing-song voice.
Memories of his first kill came to him. The greying skin of the French soldier on the ground resembled gravel. The gaping wound, the canyon of flesh, along the side of the soldier's head brought to mind images of a great eyelid, with blood gushing out like red water. Chunks of brain matter were carried along among the profuse liquid as flotsam. The blood never stopped flowing. The gushing reached the intensity of a burst fire hydrant, and soon Kyle found himself on his back, adrift upon the ocean of blood, gently tugged along with its tide. His heart was no longer wrenched by the guilt of the act. Fear had vanished. He was at peace as he drifted and bobbed upon the surface of the blood. The sky grew red. All around him was all encompassing red.
The sky grew closer and closer, and he began to notice it wobbled and shifted. More blood. Droplets from the mass above him dripped onto his face. They tickled him, and he giggled and grinned. The sky-sea-blood had gotten so close now that he could see his own reflection in it. His rows of straight, pearly white teeth became jagged like that of an animal's. His left eye swirled in place like the wheel of a slot machine. As the wheel eye settled to a stop, its iris was no longer green, but an electric blue.
Reality began to reassemble itself. Kyle was back on the truck, watching the fields and trees rush by. He had regained his senses, but they were clearer. They were purer. His ears pricked as he could hear the distant sound of sirens closing in from behind them. He swung around on his rail and pointed the many muzzles of his minigun towards the space to the rear of the truck. Sure enough, several police cars had pulled into view, their lamps flashing.
"Guys! Over there! We gotta protect Tom's sweet mural at all costs!" Kyle cried.
"FOR TOM'S SWEET ASS MURAL!" They cried together in response, all turning their respective weapons on the police behind them. | Howdy! This looks hella neat, and I'd like to join. My character is a bit of a port/alternate universe version of a character from a slightly older RP similar to this ("Forest of Secrets"), if that's okay. I've rewritten things to try and make it more fitting to this particular setting, of course. Bear in mind this is a bit of a draft, until some things are cleared up/problems are pointed out, etc.
Kyle Kruger
Age: Appears to be in his late 40s.
Eye Colors: Bright green.
Personality: Unusually exuberant and slightly eccentric. It is truly difficult to find the man in anything but high spirits, earning him the nickname "Smiles." Beyond this demeanour is a man that is absolutely devoid of empathy when it comes to his enemies, a mentality born, in contrast, from his unbreakable love and loyalty towards the things he has devoted himself to the protection of.
Type: Pure human
Skills: Kyle is a capable leader of his men, among whom he has instilled respect through his consistent ability to get results. His expertise has been sharpened by decades of service on foreign battlefields and back home against metahuman resistance groups during the Callahan government. Now finding himself and his men on the opposite side of asymmetrical warfare, he has proven more than adept at learning from and applying the techniques of his old adversaries.
Bio: An aged special forces veteran turned Hunter and counter-insurgency tactician of the Callahan presidency. With his absolute hatred for Metahuman kind, he was not much of a fan of the new world ushered in after the fall of the human supremacist government. Equal scorn was directed towards the government itself who, as it turned out, had caused the mess and the creation of these monsters he so despises in the first place. Kyle and his old unit, the "Storm Hounds", successfully evaded justice, and went underground for many decades, remaining in contact through a covert network. This network managed to find its influence surreptitiously seeping into various human purity groups, from there drawing new recruits. The Storm Hounds gradually evolved from a special forces unit on the run into a small terrorist cell in its own right.
Although Kyle and his assembled force hold nothing but contempt for metahuman kind, they have become unwitting defenders of the system through taking their fight to the Scions of Divinity, who they see as a greater threat to pure humanity.
Bottles emptied of their contents were scattered all through the office, joining other debris that had been torn apart and thrown to the ground. A figure slouched over his desk, head in one hand, pen held between quivering fingers in the other. His chest heaved heavily. Outstretched before him was a journal. The page header read "June 12th 2030." The prior entry, June 11th, after many furiously scribbled out lines, simply stated "Today Callahan is impeached. The war against the metahumans is over." Kyle brought his baleful, red stained eyes up to a framed photograph. It depicted Kyle Kruger himself and his men in formation during a visit to the base by President Callahan. He counted up the faces in that picture that belonged to comrades now buried. Swallowing down his rage, he returned to penning the newest entry: "June 12th: The Storm Hounds declare war on metahuman kind." Kyle's mouth twitched into a tired grin at this. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pocket as he rose to his feet.
Later that day he gave the order to his men to suit up. The first shots of Kyle's personal war were fired by the Storm Hounds against their former brethren in the military that had come to apprehend them. From there, they scattered into the wilderness, vanishing from sight and, months after that, from memory. There were rumors, of course, of a mysterious force spotted in the depths of American woods, of hidden training grounds and outposts. While traces of these things could be found when investigations were launched, they proved excellent at covering their tracks, remaining forever elusive.
Other:
- "Storm Hound" originated as a military task force formed from 50 paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division to perform counter-insurgency warfare, ultimately aiming to "Outguerrilla the guerrillas." They were later responsible for many atrocities under Callahan's orders. Usage of the name has spread to Kyle Kruger's human supremacist organization as a whole.
-
Theme Song: "Running Gun Blues" - David Bowie
In the other RP, he and his original team of buddies had power armor + combat stims to better the odds of surviving encounters with metahumans. I wasn't sure if that'd fit into your idea of technology in this particular setting, so I figured it'd be better to just ask if it's okay to throw that in. Of course that'd just be Kyle and the original Storm Hounds with power armor, not newer recruits to his anti-metahuman organization. Without proper maintenance crews, the power armor would be of dodgy condition and with a lot of improvised maintenance by this time, given they've been on the run for so long. |
8,248 | 222 | 22 | 531 | 3,680 | The Warren Residence, Los Angeles
October 27, 2049
11:27am
Natalie didn't go to work today. After what happened in Manhattan she wasn't in the best condition to continue her research. Instead she stayed at home with Josephine as the two of them got to work in the Net Room. "Mom, I just got an update from your guy in Manhattan. He says the CIR have the shooter under intensive interrogation but he's yet to get an idea of when he'll be transferred out of the station", Natalie said as she handed over a tablet showing the full report. "Good. Tell him to keep on it and the second he gets a date and time have him send it to us", Josephine's voice was focused and cold, she had no mercy for people like this and the two of them were going to have nice little chat. "What about Runner? He said anything about the cars?", Josephine added this time looking directly at Natalie.
"He says the cars are ready for us whenever we need them", the second Natalie used the word "we" her mother quickly shot a disapproving glance at her before returning to her monitor.
"I told you already you are not coming with me", she said without even so much as looking in Natalie's direction.
"Why not?! I can use my powers, I can make sure they don't-"
"Because I said no! You said you wanted to help and I agreed but I will not allow you to get yourself tangled into all of this!", Josephine's fist was clenched tightly to th point where the robotic servos could be heard beneath her skin.
"I'm already tangled into all of this! My mom is going to kidnap a meta killer, my dad is fighting two terrorist groups, and I work or both!", there was a silence as Natalie sighed in frustration before continuing, "...Mom, I'm already a part of this. I'm risking my life as it is so let me fight. This is what you and dad did, right? Fight for us metas? I want to do the same"
Josephine calmly got up from her seat and turned to face her daughter. Taking her hand in her own she said softly, "You're father and I fought so you wouldn't have to. If you were hurt during this what do you think that'd do to me? Please Natalie, just listen to me and keep working on your research. When I need your help again I'll be sure to ask". Natalie didn't want to hear it but her mom was right, this wasn't supposed to be her fight, but it is and if this meant she couldn't be on the front lines then she'd find another way to end this war. Reluctantly Natalie agreed and the two hugged just before the doorbell rang. Josephine instinctively grabbed the handgun on the table and exited the Net Room. Before Natalie could follow Josephine closed the Net Room with her daughter inside before heading to the door.
Cia had heard the commotion going on in the house, or atleast she could hear yelling she couldn't make out what they were saying. "I can't believe that Cole is making me work with her. She probably hates me after what I did to her." Cia said to herself outloud. Cia had gotten to the house through means of a personal driver. Due to her lacking arms she couldn't drive herself anywhere and when she worked for the CIR the often contracted a driver for her. How Cia rang the door bell was another question, most often she does this with her feet but this time she had used her head, it was quite the site to see.
Cia had left Pat in the orphanage again, it was a great day care after all, though she knew that soon Patrick would start demanding to come with her. She was afraid of those days and hoped to retire before then.
Josephine eased the front door open enough to see who was there. To her surprise it was Cia whom she hadn't wen since back in the old days. Holstering her gun she opened the door fully but said nothing.
Cia saw Josphine peek out the door. Cia almost fell down when she saw her, still not used to being near Josphine. "Oh.. Hi Josphine." Cia said nervously. "I got called here to help you with something, I kinda stopped paying attention in the meeting of what I was supposed to do though." Cia then remebered that Patrick had packed Cia a few tarts for Josphine. "Oh right! Patrick, my son, wanted to give you some of his tarts, can I come in?" Cia asked as she floated up some tubaware full of about 6 tarts.
Josephine gave Cia another quick look over with those steely eyes of hers before gesturing for Cia to enter. "It's clear, Natalie, you can come out!", Josephine called out into the house. A moment later the sound of the Net Room opening could be heard in the living room. Bringing her attention back to Cia, Josephine accepted the tarts and headed into the kitchen to put them away. "I'm guessing Cole sent you here?", she said upon entering the living room where the three of them now stood.
Cia tried to smile but it came out nervously. "Yeah, umm, listen. I'm really sorry about what I did to you back then." Cia said to Josphine. She knew she would have to get past this eventually, and doing it now was probably better than in the middle of a mission.
"Don't worry about it", Josephine replied quickly before looking over to Natalie. "A lot of good came out of it..well since you're here we should probably get to work. Josephine headed into the Net Room to fill Cia in on the situation, what they were about to do wasn't exactly by the books and they had to keep this under wraps if they didn't want to bring attention to themselves.
Cia followed Josephine, a bit happy that she didn't have any grudge against her. Though the event still scared Cia, and it wasn't because of what she did, but because of how she felt about it. Truth was Cia loved that feeling she had, it was like a drug, and this was what scared her the most, this was also why Cia stayed away from cast iron frying pans now. She would use any other kind of frying pan just not the cast iron ones.
"The CIR have apprehended the shooter but there hasn't been much word on when he'll be transferred to a proper holding facility. I have an inside man watching for me, when he gives the word that our target is on the move we'll move in to capture him. Until then you and I will be doing some investigations into the recent Enforcer killings", Josephine was glued to the monitors the entire time until she finally realized she had not introduced Cia to Natalie. "Natalie, get in here!", Josephine called out only to be replied with a muffled voice. "What?", Josephine called out again, this time in response was the sound of feet coming towards the Net Room. Natalie stood in the entryway just now swallowing the last of Cia's tarts. "You called?, she asked looking over to Cia and waving with a slight smile. "Cia this is Natalie, my daughter. Natalie this is Cia, she...she's friend", Josephine didn't want to tell Natalie that the woman she was working with had once killed her. Natalie knew her mother had extensive cybernetic prosthesis but she had been told it was due to an accident and as far as Josephine was concerned Natalie would continue to believe that.
Cia gave a nervouse smile to her. She would shake hands with her but Cia lacked arms to do so. "It's nice to meet you! I have two children of my own, plus the others at the orphanage." Cia said smiling. "You could have left some of those tarts for your mother though." Cia added realizing that the girl had eaten all of the tarts. Cia then turned back to Josphine. "So do you have any idea on where to start?" Cia asked looking at the moniters, Cia had not been much for technology, having no arms made it hard to use it, and she completely refused to get cybernetic parts. She believed them to be just too strange, she never had arms in the first place anyways and she wouldn't know what to do with them.
"Yeah sorry about that, I had one but after trying it I had to have more", Natalie smiled but quickly became stern upon hearing Cia ask about a possible lead. "I can answer that, the latest victim was a thirty-six year old Enforcer named Benjamin Morrison. From what I gathered he was on his regular patrol the night of his murder when he exited his car here", Natalie had brought up a map on a wall moniter and had pointed at the corner of a street which came up on the map. "Witnesses reported the officer headed down the street and entered this store over here", a photo of the store during open hours showed it to be a regular dollar store. "The officer entered the store but only a few moments after doing so did the lights inside go out. Witnesses reported screams and gunfire but never anyone else entering or leaving the store, the store owner was also found dead at the site. CIR operatives closed off the store for investigation but found only the body and it's scattered fragments. If I had to guess, the victim was probably stopping for a snack when whoever it was attacked. As for the attacker it was probably a type 2 shadow manipulator. However that does not account for the way the body was found. Multiple lacerations over The entire body with several pieces of flesh scattered across the store. Our Type 2 can either manipulate shadows into hardlight constructs, wield a edged weapon with incredible force, or they had an accomplice with a type 2 or 3 ability allowing them to rend flesh", Natalie looked to Josephine who displayed a look of pride in her daughter. "Thats our lead, the CIR has left the site for now so let's go while it's still clear. I'd rather not get hassled by some CIR hardass", Josephine said she headed out of the Net Room. Natalie rushed out towards her room calling out, "I'll go get my things!". Josephine sighed as she heard this but didn't protest. Time was short and after what she saw, having Natalie come along would help in all honesty.
Cia thought as she looked at the pictures and heard about the victim. "You people always assume that it's a Gifted, that isn't always the case you know. Someone could have had tools and been sick in the mind. There could be evidence of an actual metal too in the body." Cia said, she always tried to look at other leads for things like this she believed that an open mind was necessary. "It's possible that these kills were done to try and frame Gifted, make us look back in the media. Bring back the fear that Callahan brought." Cia said starting to head out the door. "These are all just speculations, but I just want you to keep an open mind, it could be anything, best to be ready for everything than just one particular issue." Cia added as she continued to look around. If Cia had to fight she could use anything in the area to fight with, that was one of the best parts of being a telekinetic.
"Perhaps, either theory is possible. Still, something like this doesn't feel human to me. Nevertheless I'll be ready, it's Natalie I'm worried about", Josephine grabbed a black duffle bag and opened it on the living room table. Pulling out a silencer she attached it to her holstered handgun before taking out another and looking towards Cia. "You're a telekinetic. You want one or no?", she asked Cia just before Natalie entered the room. "Woah, mom we're investigating a crime scene not preparing for war", Natalie stared at the duffle bag trying to guess how many more her mother had hidden around the house. "I'm not taking any chances, after the incident my left arm can't use my powers anymore and if this is a meta then I'm bringing whatever edge I can get", Josephine looked at Cia before digging through the bag once more. Pulling out a smaller bag she filled it with a body bag, a pair of handcuffs, and a syringe filled with horse tranquilizer.
Cia looked at the hand gun with a very unamused look on her face. "Do I look like I have fingers? I can't use a gun, my telekinises isn't all that price to just push buttons or pull triggers." Cia said looking at them both. "Besides to me everything, and one is my weapon." Cia added with a slight smile. "Anyways I won't be doing much in the way of handy work. So I hope that you two can keep my safe." Cia added, she really didn't want to get into a fight, she knew that if she did the scarrier side of her would come out.
"If being ready for anything is such a big concern then can I get one?", Natalie asked as she eyed the handgun. Josephine immediately put the spare gun away, "Absolutely not, if it comes to a fight you get away as fast as you can. I won't have my daughter be a killer at 19 or any age for that matter"
"But mo-"
"I said no, and I meant it Natalie. Could you please go start the car for us?", Natalie groaned before heading to the garage. "We'll take my car. It's safer that way", Josephine said to Cia before closing the door to the Net Room.
Cia smiled at the others as she followed them into the garage. "Yeah, I don't have a car, just a driver. Besides he already left I was assuming you would drive." Cia said getting into the car with them. | Name: Cia Reynolds
Age: 45
Eye Colors: Brown, they are now green though
Personality: Cia is a very happy go lucky kind of girl, she finds the bright side of everything no matter what the situation, she often even brings people together with her great attitude. Cia is also seen as a natural born Leader due to her great ability to lead others who need help. Cia however has been known to snap and go on a complete rampage when something she cares about is hurt. Her language also becomes very vulgar when this happens.
Type: Type 3
Abilities Cia can move and crush multiple objects with her mind, this normally isn't noticable as she uses it at long range for the most part, however she has been known to create a sort of ethereal arms to use from time to time. Cia's limit to this power though is that she can't pick up something heavier than a car. Cia cannot pick up other people, however she can pick up herself and float around for a short while.
Bio Cia was born into a rather nice family. They cared for her even when she first exhibited her powers. She was born with heavily deformed arms that had to be amputated when she was a young. At the age of 13 her abilities awakened, her life from there seemed to get easier as she had a far easier time moving around and even getting up. However once the Gifted Genocide began her family was killed trying to protect her. She was able to get away and has since worked to help protect other Gifted with The Conclave.
Cia joined others after her orphanage was found out to be full of Gifted. John had come to her orphanage planning to kill some of the orphans. Cia stopped him and threatened his life. This was when her more frightening side was discovered. She later helped to take down several members of the DMA however she got carried away and completely massacred a Warden named Pariah. Cia has since not shown her other frightening side since.
After everything went down Cia started to work at the orphanage full time. She later married John though she still teases him whenever she gets a chance. She has also helped with raising Mayumi after John adopted her. Cia has since been a rather happy person.
After finding out she couldn’t have children she chose to look on the bright side of it as no child with her severe disability would be born at least. She wouldn’t have to help a child without arms grow up and struggle. She later took in a baby boy though that she helped to raise. Where he came from was anyone’s guess. All Cia knew was that he needed to be cared for. She has raised him as her own son and even adopted him after naming him Patrick.
Other Cia runs an orphanage
Is married to John Reynolds
Has a son named Patrick.
Theme Song: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
Patrick Reynolds
Age(21 and up): 12
Eye Colors: Purple and Blue
Personality: Patrick much like Cia is a bit bipolar, however his scary side isn’t as bad as Cia’s, its more of just an extremely creepy stare that often allows him to get what he wants. Cia however finds this look cute instead of terrifying. Patrick also is very upbeat much like his adopted mother. He knows that he’s adopted and doesn’t really care if he is so long as he has a mother who loves him.
Type: 2
Abilities
Psychological: Fear and Joy: He can make anyone around him cower in fear. He makes them see nightmares, though he can also make them happy things like have the entire room look like it’s blooming with flowers. Either way the person under his power will either become frightened to the point of peeing themselves, or happy to the point of peeing themselves.
Skills(for humans and gifted): Pat is a wonderful chef, many say he has a future as a chef as his cooking skills are unmatched.
Bio: Patrick or Pat for short, was born to an unknown mother, however he was born with different colored eyes yet he had no powers. He was given to the orphanage just after he was born. He lives a peaceful life with his adopted parents, Cia and John, and is adopted sister Mayumi. Pat for the most part lives a great life.
Though he was bullied a lot by the other kids at the orphanage growing up he loves helping out around the kitchen. Patrick however became a gifted at the age of 9. A kid had kicked sand in his face and he suddenly got angry, his ‘scary face’ appearing scaring and making the kids scared, even the ones not looking at him. Cia realized that Patrick was a gifted though his power was a bit frightening as it was surprisingly powerful and Pat couldn’t always control it.
Other Patricks favorite animal is a bear.
Patrick is seriously claustrophobic. To the point where he started to have a panic attack when one of the kids closed a box he was playing in. This also caused his powers to activate again.
Theme Song: Hide and Seek
Both are done what you guys think? |
8,249 | 222 | 23 | 29 | 5,207 | Ace scowled at Norville's sly remark and was going to give him an ear full but caught herself before cooly responding, " I may be a hot head but at least I don't give people cold shoulders, Norville. And as for confidence..... I am confident that I could beat both of your asses 6 feet into the ground!" Ace paused when she had noticed Aaron's expression turn solemn. "What is it?" she replied looking over his shoulder. She froze when she read the headline "Massacre at Conclave University!".
"oh no...oh no no no..... Jack!" Ace murmured as her eyes darted through the report. She then saw a photo of Jack escorting a young boy out of the university. She sighed relieved before smiling faintly, yet warmly as she collapsed to her knees. "thank god.....thank god he's ok.....dammit Jack.... you nearly scared me to death...... you aren't as young as you used to be.... you know that...." Ace murmured to herself. She then smiled, her expression held amusement and pride for her father's actions, " and yet.... I couldn't be more proud of ya, old man...." | Ace Stahl
Age: 36
Eye Colors: was born with blue eyes but her right eye turned red the day her abilities awoke
Personality: despite her rough past Ace grew up to be a kind, gentle, caring, and a warm person overall to almost everyone. However in combat she is a serious, cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to scorch her enemies to death.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Manipulation of fire aka pyrokinesi - basically she can change the shape and size of fire (as well as make it move) and use it as a weapon. However, she cannot create fire; she needs a source such as a lighter (something that she CONSTANTLY keeps on her to this day). As a side effect of her ability; Ace does not burn easily and has an insanely high resistance to fire. For example, the amount of fire that could severely burn or kill a normal human being would leave Ace with only a few minor burns.
Skills: - has a vast knowledge of firearms and the handling of multiple fire arms
- is a good shot
- has practically mastered her abilities
Bio: After taking down President Callahan with the rest of the group, Ace decided to return to the slums of Manhattan and help around Jack's store. For the next two years, Ace led a quiet but happy life with her guardian and kept in touch with the small group of friends she had made. But in a sudden burst of flames, Jack's Craft Shack burnt to the ground and Ace disappeared from the ever watching eyes of society for the next 8 years.
During this time, Ace took on multiple jobs for the CIR as a mercenary, taking on multiple gangs both human and metahuman alike that threatened the peace that she and her comrades had worked so hard to achieve. However her actions were kept secret from the public and the group.
Ace walked down the streets of Manhattan, keeping her her face well hidden underneath her hoodie. She suddenly stopped as she walks in front the Conclave memorial that was made to honor both her and her friend. Ace walks closer to the memorial and notices several other people both human and metahuman who had come to admire the memorial and take pictures.
Looking at the memorial, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ace as she remembered the small time she had spent with the group. Ace then rummaged a bit through her pockets and finally pulled out an old, rusty lighter; the very same lighter she had used at the blacksite. She flicked the switch a few times creating a few sparks but the lighter refused to light. Ace scowled a bit then sighed, "oh I see... Only work when I'm fighting for my life..."
Ace put the old lighter away and returned her gaze back to the memorial and smiled softly. "I wonder what they're all doing.... Now that the world has no use for us anymore..." She murmured to herself.
Other: she ALWAYS carries a a lighter with her.
After Callahan was impeached; Jack became Ace's legal guardian.
Theme Song:(optional) |
8,250 | 222 | 24 | 2,134 | 491 | Norville couldn't help but chuckle at Ace's remark. "Miss Stahl, I know for certain you could mop the floor with me. I wouldn't stand even a minuet chance against your skill and strength." Norville was not lying as he knew without a doubt that he would lose to Ace in any sort of fight. His attention had then been caught by what was displayed on Aaron's screen at a college he was all too familiar with as he graduated from there just a year before. The thought of that scene being played out while he was there made him take a step back, the shock being replaced by awe as Jack's figure appeared on screen as he brought the shooter into custody. "Miss Ace... Your father really is an oustanding man." | Norville Rogers
Age: 28
Hair: White, as white as snow.
Eye Colors: Blue and Gold. The top half of his eyes are an icy blue, while the bottom half is golden. A rare eye mutation even for a metahuman.
Personality: His personalty is hard to describe as his character changes depending on who he is around and who is influencing his mood. He does have constants in his character; he tends to be laid back letting others go first, loyal to his friends and won't turn his back on them, and lastly his love for food, he never turns down a good meal.
Type: 2
Abilities
Physical: Norville has a unique ability, he can freeze any form of water. From normal bodies of water to rain and even the minute particles in the air if the humidity is high enough. His power keeps his body temperature lower than normal. He feels cold to the touch and his appearance reflects it in his white hair and pale skin. A passive benefit of this is he can never feel cold, and is most comfortable in colder areas. This comes with a cost, heat doesn't agree with his low body temperature and he sunburns easily. Amounts of heat that would only agitate normal people can actually burn Norville, and in comparison something that would cause minor burns on normal people would give him severe burns and pain.
Skills: Norville knows the current limitations of his powers and is decent at holding his own in a fair fight as he is just an average man, but with a strong limited power that can be expanded on with practice and help. He has very little skill in hand to hand combat but he has had plenty of practice using his abilities defensively to protect others and himself. He is a decent battle medic as he can close wounds by freezing the blood on the outside of the wound long enough to tightly bandage it, and he can administer medicines to help with symptoms of poisons, disease and pain.
Bio: *Static* A young man's voice could be heard, "I think I finally got it working. Well I want to get started on my day to day entries as soon as I can, so I will make this quick. Hopefully it saves this time around. All right, take seven." Some shuffling of papers before he spoke again, "My name is Norville Rogers. I am a metahuman, or that's what the media and my class mates like to label us as. Anyway back to my childhood. I was born in St. North Hospital twenty years ago. I was around three years old when an accident happened that separated me from my parents. Not long after that I was in an orphanage. Life there was simple; wake up, get ready for the day, go to school, try to get adopted, do homework, go to bed and start it all over again. Same routine until my fifteenth birthday." A pause, the sound of ice falling in a glass and liquid pouring, then a large gulp. "That morning when I was getting ready I noticed in the mirror that something was different, my eyes had changed from solid icy blue to a heterochroma match that is very odd. My eyes seemed cut horizontally, the top half the normal blue, the bottom a golden hue. I started feeling more comfortable in colder areas and my friends started to worry as I was cold to the touch. Doctors said my eyes could be explained by a loss of pigment and my colder skin a hormonal imbalance, if it started to affect my daily life I needed to get aid immediately. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different, even after all of the uproar that happened years ago. As I learned to control myself I was able to hide my differences better and fit in. I somehow made it through high school without anyone finding out, and even my first two years of college. Only my room mate knows and he doesn't care, so long as I don't temper with the thermostat too much." Norville chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I hear that the discrimination was far worse when I was younger, I guess I could count myself lucky that I was a late bloomer. End introductory entry." A faint click can be heard before silence.
*Static* Norville's laughter can be heard. "Entry 207, Graduation day! Today I graduate college with a masters in Chemistry and hopefully I can find a job to suit my skills. I don't have time to talk much longer, but it has been a while. Graduating at the age of twenty-seven! Man am I glad I can finally go out and be my own man. I'll give more details tomorrow when I have the time. End entry." A faint click then silence again. Norville jolted awake in the lab where he had been introduced into this line of work.
I am a sentinel. Not the ones you hear about that go out and fight the terrorists, but one that helps in other ways. At home base my mind is used to help create medicines and other materials to help defend my allies from harm. But when they let me out in the field, my task had always been to defend and help the injured. I am no doctor but I can stop bleeding and inject medicines to help with pain and symptoms. I am a battle medic, simple as that. A quick fix to keep the injured alive and kicking until they can reach a doctor. Those thoughts invaded his mind as a rough draft for his next journal entry. |
8,251 | 223 | 0 | 1,605 | 2,000 | _Winter, 299 Years After Alexander's Landing. The Imperial Palace of the Dragon Keep, The Imperial Europan City of Alexandria, the Crownlands. Two days before the wedding of Crown Prince Xavier Drake of Europa and Princess Anastasia Romanov of the Rus and the 300th Anniversary of the Dragon King's Conquest of the Mainland._
There were as many dragons as they were clouds in the sky.
Or at least, that is what it seemed to the citizens of Alexandria and their guests. The winged beasts flew into the city from all directions, dragons of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Great dark-scaled War Drakes rode by warriors flew alongside the more colorful mounts favored by the more idle nobility. Some had just one head while others had three. Some had great wicked horns while others had spiked clubs for tails. Still others were not fire drakes at all, and were instead frost dragons, lightning breathers, or thunder shouters. Any Draconalogist worth the name would have kept himself busy for days observing the sheer variety of dragondom on display.
And there were Draconalogists and more. Everyone who was anyone in the Empire was flocking to the city and many more opportunistic, curious, or devious soul besides. High Lords and Ladies rode with their trains of knights and servants, turning the streets into an impromptu parade of banners and colors while ships as diverse as the dragons in the sky crowded into the harbors, though those sea-bound souls took care to avoid raising the ire of any sea serpent riding Dragon Lord. The streets were crowded with merchants hawking their wares, jugglers or acrobats demonstrating their skills, children running around in delight, mages casting harmless spells, warriors wooing maidens, clerics preaching sermons, and of course thieves working the crowds or women luring men into taverns.
Lords and Ladies of all ranks flocked from every province in the Empire. Commoners cheered and applauded the arrivals of Duchess Snow White, Lady Cinderella, the Frog Lord, Lord Beast, the Sleeping Beauty, and countless more nobles and warriors of song and story. There were even more exotic visitors. Elves, Orcs, Trolls, Gnomes, Halflings, Goblins, and other nonhumans were common enough in Alexandria but the commoners and nobles of the city alike were used to peasant creatures not nobility.
Orc Chiefs, Elf Nobles, Dwarf Lords, and the gentry of virtually every other Europan race were in evidence as well, drawing all sorts of attention. Colorfully and eccentrically dressed Magi of all disciplines and teachings mingled with the crowds some holding staves while others held wands or even broomsticks. Demigods of every Pantheon in the Empire walked the streets as well, obvious in their celestial radiance that bridged the divine and the mortal. Some even caught sight of the Fae. Ethereal beings of Summer or Winter who defied all description and were equal parts beautiful and foreboding. The Courts often kept to themselves but it seemed the marriage of the heirs to two Empires drew the attention of the Fae Queens.
Foreign dignitaries and travelers from the Rus moved about freely in the city, along with those from the Imperium, the Emerald Land of Oz, the Queendom of Wonderland, the Arabian Sultanate, the Raj of the Indus, and many other faraway lands besides. With their people were their beasts. Griffons, pegasi, rocs, basilisks, and all manner of creature that flew, crawled, slithered, or ran could be seen. The air itself was crowded with the excited shouts, pleased chatter, lustful advances, snide jokes, enraged outbursts, formal declarations, and whispered secrets of more than a dozen tongues from more than a dozen peoples. Never before had there been so many foreigners in Alexandria and the city's trade boomed even as some eyed the outsiders suspiciously. The population of Alexandria was normally around a million but there was easily twice that many in the city now, with more to come.
It was a historic time on many accounts. The upcoming marriage was the first bond of its kind between two powerful nations like Europa and the Rus and its leaders. There were to be tournaments, exhibitions, and competitions in the name of the union. Archers would decide the best shots, knights would ride to find the best jouster, singers would compete with their voices, painters would unveil their masterpieces, sculptors would present their gifts, and warriors would compete in the names of themselves, their families, or their paramours. And of course there would be trade deals to be made, diplomatic negotiations to discuss, and secrets to be traded. It would promise to be a very grand time and most likely a dangerous one as well. If it all went well, then Europa and the Rus would be united by blood in an event that all hailed as the precursor of a Golden Age for the Dragon Empire and the Rus.
This is what drew hundreds of Dragon Lords and their mounts to the city. There were always at least a dozen dragons in the heart of the Empire but it was a very rare occasion when so many of the Dragonblood gathered in one place. Members of the royal family, its cadet branches, and its vassal houses took to the skies and delighted the masses while also making a formidable show of the power of House Drake and the Dragon Families. Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, and all manner of relations to Emperor Conrad arrived by dragon, ship, or horse. House Drake was a very large and often times very divided clan, its associates even more so, but it seemed rivalries would be put aside for the marriage of the Dragon Prince to the Snowbird.
Tsarina Vasilia and her entourage were already settled into the Dragon Keep. More guests would arrive as the wedding approached but the Supreme Ruler of the Rus had brought her family and the bride to be early in advance. Several other guests of note would be shown into the Keep as well, high clerics from various faiths, scholars from the universities, notable bards or artisans, mages from the Enchanter Colleges, storied knights, and high nobles were among the guest list and many others crowded the inns or personal homes of Alexandria's rich. They would come with gifts and well-wishes in order to secure favor or influence whatever form that influence may take. The Great Game was one all played, and the stakes could mean one's life.
As some of our intrepid heroes, or villains whatever the case may be, approach the Keep they take note of its formidable yet majestic appearance. The City and the Keep started as a humble fort and adjoining village where Alexander made his landing. Now the Keep was a massive stone palace that could house thousands, with spires that reached hundreds of feet into the sky and strong fortifications on all sides. It was there that the dragons clustered the tightest, dozens of dragons roosted on the keep while others flew around in a circle. On top of the palace was a massive hundred-foot high statue of the Black Sun, Alexander's horned mount that let him conquer Europa. The statue is purported to be life-size though the beast itself died long ago.
The Keep is surrounded by water on three sides, and the Royal Fleet with it's red sails and fiery flags number in the dozens of ships around the palace. The Personal emblem of Lord Admiral Donovan Drake, Conrad's Cousin and Master of the Fleets, dotted the largest vessel, the emblem depicted Dragon crashing through a wave and breathing fire onto a hapless ship. A gargantuan five-decked ship bristling with cannons and large enough to house Donavon's mount Wavebreaker and named _Alexander's Trident_, cut a formidable figure on the water. It seemed Donovan had taken time from his conquest of the Neverlands to attend the wedding.
The road to the keep was lined with Palace Guardsmen, men and women armed with fine arms and finer armor all gold-tinted with flame patterns. Several heralds bore the standards of the Emperor and other notable Royals while others flew the colors of House Roe or House Solis and other Great Houses to acknowledge their visitors. The majestic visage of the firebird, the prized royal visage of the Rus, was flown on the castle walls right next to the demon-horned dragon of Drake.
The Keep itself is dark grey in tint and the effort of decades of labor. Alexander's son had been the one to see it finished and it was said the castle was filled with numerous secret passageways and underground chambers, the location of which were said to be lost when the Cruel Dragon slew all the workers and architects. Nonetheless hundreds of trebuchets, ballista, cannons, and other weapons lined the numerous battlements manned by House Drake's men-at-arms. The Keep had never fallen to attack by an outside invader and for good reason. The stone of the Keep was enchanted by the strongest court mages and there were innumerable slits and murder holes for defenders to fire from.
Gargoyles posed on various points on the keep but they were by no means mere ornamentation. Come nightfall the statues came alive, and an army of ferociously loyal and intelligent beasts came alive to help defend the Keep. Between them, the Dragons, the court mages, the royal fleet, the defenders, and any number of more secretive defenses, it was a wonder why any had ever tried to take the Keep. The train of guests pass by the massive gates and are eventually led inside the palace and into the Great Hall.
The Hall is decorated with banners of various houses and filled with several of the guests of the wedding. Skulls of famous dragons adorn the walls which reach high above to a ceiling painted with a dramatized mural of dragons warring with gods and monsters. The skull of the Black Sun smiled at the head of the hall above the Burned Throne. The Black Sun's maw was wide enough for a half-dozen horses to ride in abreast and it was said the Throne was formed by the Black Sun's flame crystallized by magic. The Hall was large enough for hundreds of occupants.
Emperor Conrad was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Lady Marshall Evelyn Bluefire. Instead the throne was empty and Crown Prince Xavier Drake, Empress Annabelle Charming his mother, Grand Duke Luthor his uncle, Lord Admiral Donovan, the Queen Dowager his grandmother, Xavier's siblings, and other relatives were socializing with guests while the Prince was flanked by the elite white-armored knights of the Royal Guardians including Lord Commander Crow and Sir Maxwell the Daring. Notably absent was Anthony Drake the Dragonknight of the Guardians, Conrad's Cousin, and widely renowned as the greatest knight in the realm wielder of Inferno and rider of Sunburst.
Tsarina Vasilia and her brother-in-law Ivan Tsarverich had approached the throne and were engaged in conversation with Empress Annabelle while the prince and princess to be engaged where amicably speaking with one another. The two had not seen one another before the engagement but it seemed as if they were already off to a good start. Both were youths with sterling reputations and the future of their union seemed bright. Various other nobles, generals, scholars, and mages were engaged in their own conversations about a variety of topics and the Royal Herald proclaimed the arrival of each significant dignitary to the Hall. Snow White, Cinderella, the Sleeping Beauty, Lord Beast, and others were among those in the Hall and it was a opportune time to make connections among the Court. Grand Duke Luthor also allowed a line of supplicants to submit requests to the Throne. As Vice Regent it was his right in Conrad's absence to hear such pleas.
A few esteemed merchants had been allowed to bring their best wares into the hall for browsing and they had the best in items martial, magical, and otherwise. A few knights presided over the singing of other knights into the jousts and other warriors into the melee competitions as well as competitions of archery and other feats of athleticism. Everything save the joust was open to all. Singers and musicians played a few songs while a clerk was signing in performers into the competitions between performing artists and cataloging submissions by artisans to be displayed in the wedding itself. Several scholars and mages were looking for new students to their colleges as well as trying to secure donations to their institutions while a court mage demonstrated a few tricks to appreciative onlookers and another was signing on entrants to the magical display competitions. It was said particularly well performing competitors in any of the competitions would win quite a hefty purse as well as prestige and possibly royal employment.
The wedding was in two days and other parts of the palace were bustling with servants getting things in order. The massive courtyard near the hall was filled with visiting warriors sparring with each-other while the great library was full of secrets to be found by scholars and mages. The palace itself had countless rooms to be discovered and the city outside held promise of great adventure and peril for those who went looking. Meanwhile across the kingdom other heroes and villains were approaching peril.
_On Approach to Redwood Valley, the realm of Lord Colin Charming, former holding of House Roe, the Rhinelands_
Emperor Conrad, Grand Duchess Evelyn, and Sir Anthony were in the skies. Conrad's dragon Brightfire, was in the lead flanked by the smaller but faster Sunburst and the formidable cobalt scaled Blue Star. Behind them was an army of two thousand including men of House Drake and House Charming with others from other houses and independent mercenaries.
A scant week before the wedding, Duke Cullen of House Charming has received word that the holding of his brother Colin had been usurped by a pretender named Trast. Trast had been a commoner but somehow he had gained weapons of vast destruction. Details were vague but survivors reported monstrous creatures, dark magic, and the death of Colin, his daughter, and the entire household. Now Redwood Valley was said to be in chaos as Trast lay in his stolen castle and the Valley was besieged by monstrosities and opportunistic bandits that raided the defenseless and starving commoners.
Duke Cullen had been terribly enraged by the news of the death of his brother and niece and, as father to the Empress, demanded the throne's help in bringing order to the region. Lady Marshall Evelyn had volunteered to lead a force and Conrad, never a renowned fighter, had surprised all when he elected to step in himself. They had gathered other nobles and hired on several sellswords to put down the rebellion, even emissaries from the various visiting parties allotted token men to the sortie. It was one of the only Imperial Operations involving soldiers from so many other lands.
Among those to fight were Prince Charming, Sir Wilhelm Roe who was Evelyn's brother-in-law, and Sir David Beast the oldest Son of Lord Beast. The scouts had reported many stories true. The forests were largely aflame, the rivers were choked with bodies of the dead, and the air was clogged by ash from burned villages. The chaos and destruction wrought by Trast had attracted Ghouls, Bandits, Witches, and even Werewolves and Vampires and other dark beings or criminals. All of Colin's men were either dead or fled and Trast held Castle Redwood with his peasant army of malcontents, content to leave the Valley to burn. There was no sign of the supposed weapons and there were around five thousand of the rabble camped outside or in the castle.
Conrad and his relations were to go with Duke Cullen and attack Castle Redwood with the main force of 1,500 men. The Castle was a sturdy one but it was widely believed that with three of the greatest Dragons living it should be no contest even if they were outnumbered by the bandit lord and his men. They would liberate the Castle, look for survivors of House Charming, and capture or kill Trast.
Prince Charming was to take Sir Wilhelm, Sir David, and the rest of their forces to clear the main village near the largest river as well as the nearby farms and forest of monsters and bandits and relieve the commoners. If Charming begrudged his considerable martial talents being wasted on such an assignment he gave no notice. Instead he lead his forces to the outskirts of the village.
The men and women found themselves on a hill looking down across the fields to the village. It was a large town, with almost three thousand commoners living there. Or at least there had been. Several buildings burned and there people were being murdered in the roads while others desperately locked themselves inside their homes. Trast cared nothing for the people and was letting thugs have the run of the town. Several nearby farms were also destroyed and it was said that the nearby forest is where people were being preyed on by werewolves and ghouls. It was said that a Vampire family and a witch coven had taken over significant portions of the village.
Prince Charming on his horse spoke briefly with Wilhelm and David before addressing the assembled men, "Our assignment is simple. Bring order to Redwood Village and stop this madness. Spare the innocents but leave none who raise arms against us alive. Sir David will lead a sortie of a hundred men into the forest to clear the wood of monsters while Wilhelm will lead fifty men to secure the surrounding farmlands. I will lead the remainder to eliminate the bandits as well as the reported Vampire and Witch enclaves. But we don't know what we can really expect to see and I want all to be at the utmost alertness. There may yet be worse things about."
And so the force was split into three, and our heroes among them to their assignments. David lead his men into the forest, he dismounted as he changed into a seven-foot tall furry beast. All in his bloodline had the ability and he was the perfect man to sniff out supposed werewolves and other monsters. David crouched to the ground and sniffed, "Follow me. I have a strange scent." He cautiously advanced into the too dark and too quiet forest where the sun was blocked by the tall trees.
Wilhelm and his force saw nothing at first only death and destruction. Bodies and burnt crops were the norm as they passed the first few farms. However they soon came upon a large country manor that seemed to be mostly untouched. But there were no souls in sight. Wilhelm grunted and pointed out a dozen men to investigate before riding off to other farms. The men he sent saw a great house belonging to some wealthy merchant but utterly devoid of anything to suggest living. Everything was completely untouched. That's when they heard the soft sobbing which seemed to come from up the stairs.
Prince Charming and his forces were mounted overlooking the village. There was a large gang of thugs in the road, wantonly burning and beating and raping. Screams and shouts echoed across to the men and women and Charming grimaced before drawing his sword. He shouted, **"FOR COLIN!!!"** and charged on his warhorse into the village with his men. They immediately laid into the bandits and thugs and left many dead before them but there were many more to go. As they waded through the road, a small chapel was newly aflame and screams could be heard inside while nearby an inn held a gang of bowmen who started letting arrows fly at the king's men. The battle was begun. | Everyone's sheets are still accepted and if I have the time I might post one of my own. |
8,252 | 223 | 1 | 2,772 | 147 | *A few weeks ago.*
It had been a long journey through the Olympian Imperium to the Empire of Europa, but at least it would soon prove worthwhile. As a man who made a living off temporary work, his field being that of a hired blade, Baleno depended on a high demand for his services to eat. He spent the years since his freedom from the Colosseum trying to put his newly acquired combat skills to use. Fortunately, when his career was just blossoming, he found plentiful employment in wiping bandit camps for a cheap price. Although Baleno wasn't a flashy individual, he soon grew tired of earning such a feeble income when he knew his capabilities could bring him much more. There were few within the Imperium who wanted to hire a pariah such as he to represent their faction, especially when he had a criminal record. While mere commoners didn't mind paying him for protection, the thought of serving a lord was all but a fallacy to Baleno. No longer did he feel free wandering the Imperium. His constant search for clientele had begun to chain his mind down. Finally, once all of his avenues were exhausted, Baleno resorted to traveling abroad. Different lands had different opportunities and while he was positive that he would receive the same odd looks there, the Empire of Europa was the best possible solution to his dilemma.
As it turned out, Baleno's decision to travel to the Empire of Europa couldn't have come at a better time. Eavesdropping on various conversations as he passed through a small village near the border between the two vast countries, he picked up a valuable piece of news. There was soon to be a marriage between two prominent figures within the Empire of Europa and the Rus. To mark the occasion, there was to be a festive celebration within the Europan city of Alexandria. Baleno had never been to the Empire of Europa before in his life so he was unfamiliar with its overall atmosphere and the exact significance of this Alexandria. But, from what bits of trivia he was able to gather, he concluded that it would be a breeding ground for potential jobs. The intertwining of two powerful nations was enough to attract the entire world's attention. It was a certainty that nobility from all over was flocking to Alexandria alongside Baleno. It was also definite that at least a few would have need for a talented swordsman in their ranks. If he managed to impress a lord, Baleno could find his whole life change. His dream was to stop roaming and bring his vagabond lifestyle to an end. His goal in traveling to Alexandria was not only to earn another job but a home as well.
After passing through the necessary customs, Baleno left his life in the Imperium behind at least for now. True, he had grown tired of aimlessly wandering it but he was never fully against returning there if he needed to. He was heading into the unknown and could not ignore the possibility of Europa not bestowing him with a warm welcome. Since he was already established within the Imperium, Baleno would have little trouble integrating back into life there. Tackling the Empire of Europa was a double-edged sword of a risk. He did not have the advantage of familiarity that he did with the Imperium. As he planted the soles of his black boots on the soil of the border's opposite side, Baleno cemented his very first step in a new land and quite possibly triggered a whole new destiny for himself. Only time would tell. For now he would have to find his way to Alexandria.
Greeting Baleno to the Dragon Empire was a brisk, snapping frost. Shielding his brown skin from the breeze was his thick black cloak, its tail fluttering in the wind behind him. The winter thus far was hard to bare within the Imperium and didn't seem to be anymore relenting within Europa either. Baleno clenched the rows of his teeth together to prevent them from chattering as he aggressed up the winding cobble road towards only the gods knew where. As winter settled in, the trees that lined Baleno's path were bare, their scrawny branches as equally exposed to the chill as Baleno. Coming to a split, Baleno examined the signs to see the penultimate destination of each tributary route. While he was being processed at the border, Baleno was wise to ask what was the best place for a traveler to go upon first entering Europa. He was pointed towards a moderately sized town that laid roughly a half days walk from where he crossed. Seeing the town's name on one of the signs, Baleno didn't hesitate to take the corresponding path. He had been walking since daybreak and quarreling with the frigid temperatures since then. The quicker he moved along the better. His fingers were blistering even under his gauntlets with each passing minute.
Baleno already had a few ideas in mind of what he was to do at his arrival in the town. Because he was basically a blind man bumbling about on his own, his guess about what lay ahead of him being about as good as a , Baleno had two remove the curtain that draped his knowledge of navigating through Europa. He coud either try and procure a map or hook with someone who knew their way around the country. Ideally he would choose the prior as he did like being dependent on another. If it came to having to travel with another, he wanted to avoid taxi via a carriage. He was very short on coin and could not afford additional expenses. He imagined that getting his hands on a map wouldn't be cheaper. Finding a suitable one would be enough of a problem. Oh well, at least he had two plans which was always better than having none. If push came to shove he could fight his way through whatever obstacles blocked his advancement. That was how he solved every other issue life dropped onto him. It was amazing what answers that a simple swipe of a sword could provide.
It was well into midday when Baleno entered Europa. As expected, the trip towards the town extended several hours. He faced little to no trouble for most of its duration. He had a brief incident with a few shady looking fellows but resting his hand on the hilt of his gladius alone was enough to intimidate them.
Baleno reached the town depraved of food, water, and sleep. The grumbling of his stomach begged him for nutrients while his lips were so dry they shriveled. Baleno quickly sought out the local inn. He didn't want to spend whatever little gold he had but it would be detrimental towards his health if he were to deny himself of nourishment and rest. Unable to resist the temptation of good food and a bed, Baleno staggered into the inn and rented a room. The next morning he purchased a map from a local general store. It was used so it wasn't in the best condition but he was able to make out the location of Alexandria. Now he just had to get there in time.
*Present day.*
Never before had he seen anything like it. Baleno could only describe the city of Alexandria as utterly amazing. Taking over their skies, thier magnificent wings nearly blocking the sun's rays, were glorious dragons. Baleno had heard stories about those who rode them into the battle but he didn't believe them to be true until he saw them with his own eyes. He along with dozens of others marched through the citys outskirts towards its center where all of the action was. Baleno did not regret his decision to attend the event at all. There were all sorts of people there and they looked delighted. He wasn't a hedonist so the idea of partying didn't entertain him a lot but he felt the need to unwind. Peeping into his cloak's pockets, Baleno was disappointed to see that he barely had any money remaining. He ended up spending more than he originally intended. Getting to Alexandria was rather troublesome and he was forced to make some unwanted stops. Glad that he arrived, he shifted through the crowds and scanned around for anything that may be of interest.
The streets of Alexandria were packed to the brim with citizens and tourists alike. While the Imperium from which he hailed was home to a plethora of different beings, Baleno rarely shared space with the likes of the green skinned orcs or the sharp eared elves that he passed by. Alexandria had to the world's designated cauldron. To the inexperienced it must have been a place of pure fantasy. Reminiscing on the village he spent his childhood in, Baleno only encountered places so vast in his dreams. The city's buildings were tall and elegantly crafted. If this was were the regular folk stayed then Baleno felt that the aristocratic dwellings would exceed dazzling.
After dawdling through Alexandria and becoming formally acquainted with the urban behemoth, Baleno came across his cup of tea. As part of the festivities, there were a multitude of competitions taking place and they were attracting participants from all over. Once his ears caught wind of a fighting tournament, Baleno immediately flash backed to his days in the Colosseum. It was a mere three years ago that he fought against monsters and other prisoners for the entertainment of the masses. Any ordinary man would have found such a sentence for petty theft excruciating. Baleno agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly. What differeniated him from the norm was that he found his tenure as a gladiator beneficial to his personal development. Before then he was a lowly street rat who survived through pick pocketing and odd jobs. Though it wasn't a palace, Baleno found a home at the Colosseum as well as friends, rivals, and mentors. He didn't loathe that part of his life as much as he should have. He was thankful to it for it allowed him to learn swordsmanship.
"It'll be just like the old days I suppose," Baleno muttered, mulling over whether or not he should enter a fighting competition.
There was no reason for him not to. He was as experienced as any other warrior. It was the exact opportunity he spent years wishing for. All Baleno needed to do was register. He weaved deeper into the city's core, drawing the eyes of its occupants like a magnet. It was funny how he still stood out in comparison to the humans of the entire Europan continent despite the fact they shared their lands with non-humans of all shapes and species. The half-Alkhebuan Baleno was a anomaly and that was a status that haunted him since his youth. It no longer ate at his inner peace now that he was properly accustomed to the harsh realities of the world around him. Taking a few lives helped in notifying him of his more macabre qualities which desperately required mending. He deemed his being a spectacle as neither an insult nor compliment. He was focused on earning money and his dormant greed could not be quenched by squelched whispers about his physical attributes.
Aspiring to learn about how to register for the fighting competitions, Baleno approached a vendor who pointed him towards the Dragon Keep. When Baleno asked where that was, the vendor responded with a quizzical expression before telling Baleno that there was no possible way he could miss what was easily the most splendid example of Europan architecture. After feasting his eyes on the palace for his own pleasure, Baleno had to say that the vendor's description was an underestimate of the Keep's true glory. Baleno watched as guests flooded through the gates. He was sure that the Keep, which easily dwarfed any structure around it, would have no problem accommodating the visitors. Baleno decided to wait until later to join in the procession. He didn't expect anyone to be permitted inside. Rather than avoid any altercations he figured it best to put off his entrance. Besides, he desired a weapon in better condition if he were to be showing off his talents in front of nobles. He had relied on his old gladius to see him through thick and thin and that was finally starting to show as the blade began to wear. He patronized the nearest marketplace in search of an affordable blacksmith, remembering that his coin was running low. Maybe there were specials available in honor of the special occasion. | **Name:** Baleno
**Titles:** N/A
**Affiliation:** Freelance at the moment.
**Age:** 26
**Birthplace:** Olympus Imperium
**Origin:** Othello
**Gender:** Male
**Race:** Human
**Appearance:** Standing an inch above six feet, Baleno is an impressively tall man with a compact build. Of half Alkhebulan and Imperium heritage, he is significantly darker than his mother's fair complexion and is only a couple shades lighter than his swarthy father. His skin is a smooth ochre, a medium brown pigmentation that edges only a smidgen closer to the light variety. The genetics of his father are clearly prevalent over those of his mother. From Othello he also inherited curly black hair. Because he spends most of his time traveling, Baleno tends to neglect it and has grown it into a unkempt mid-length afro. Perhaps the only noticeable trait his mother gave him was her eye shape. While his father's were small and close set, supporting his stern gaze, his mother's were large and upturned. He did not inherit their green color and his irises are instead dark brown like his fathers. Baleno has a square shaped face lined with a thinly trimmed goatee.
Not a fan of spending his hard earned money on trivial objects such as flashy clothes, Baleno frequently dresses in modest attire. His usual outfit comprises of brown trousers, black boots, and a blue long-sleeved shirt. Occasionally he wears a black cloak, particularly when the temperatures are cold. He keeps his sword equipped to his right hip. Covering his arms are a pair of metal gauntlets which serve as his armor of choice.
**Occupation:** Sellsword
**Resources:**
- _Sword_: Besides the clothes on his back and the few coin he has managed to procure, Baleno's sword is his only true possession as well as his lifeline. His current one, an old ( with a withered blade, is not his first. While fighting at the Colosseum as a novice he went through plenty that he broke during combat. He was allowed to keep his last sword as a reward for surviving.
**Skills:**
- _Swordsmanship Practitioner_: While he attempted to teach himself how to wield a weapon as a teen, that training ultimately amounted to nothing. It wasn't until he was forced to fight at the Colosseum that he truly attained any apitude for the sword. Baleno was given his first blade along with some light armor and told to wing it. Faced with a new threat on a daily basis, he at first swung his sword around mindlessly with very little success. He began to obtain meaningful experience after sparring against other gladiators. Taking a few minor wounds in the process, he memorized some of their techniques through repetition and interwove them into his own fighting style. Presently, Baleno is not strong enough to be considered neither an expert nor a master. He is talented enough to hold his own against another capable swordsman and can handle weak opponents such as bandit grunts with ease. If he were to engage a higher tier opponent he would undoubtedly struggle. At best his skill level can be described as intermediate and at worst average. He has never had any professional training which is evidenced by his erratic movement during battle. He is very aggressive and quick with his strikes and they can be improperly coordinated, leaving him open for attack if he isn't careful.
**Personality:** Baleno is a man whose heart has been hardened by his experiences. As a child he was like any other. His innocent outlook put a veil over him and prevented him from seeing the truth surrounding his own being. He paid very little attention to the physical differences between himself and the man and woman he believed were his parents. The raised eyebrows of his neighbors did not bother him until they started blatantly asking questions about his origin. It was only when he realized that not everyone was favorable of presence did Baleno become aware that he was a pariah even to his own family. He manifested a complex about himself and determined that he was the problem and not those who thought ill of him. Fortunately, the adoration of his adoptive parents withdrew him from his sorrows before it was too late. But, he was branded with negative impressions that would seep cynicism into him. He became withdrawn from his village's community and lost trust for them. In response, the people of the village increased their disdain for him which he accepted as a means of justifying his coldness.
A life of mercenary work has made Baleno less honorable than most. Money has ascended to a core priority of his and he will gladly slay almost anyone he is hired to if he is to be paid enough. His loyalty can also be brought or sold. If he can get a sufficient amount of gain out of lending his services to someone, he will do so without inquiring about specifics. He will work with anyone to survive and no one to fall. Also, he will appease anyone who he could gain from and disregard those who have nothing to offer. That isn't to say he won't help a person in dire need. He might if he assesses the risk to his own safety as minimal. For the sake of profit he doesn't like to mix business with pleasure nor does he prefer to befriend his clients. Whatever honor that still remains within Baleno restricts him from committing outright betrayal to those who he has formed a personal connection with. Although he may take actions that may not be morally correct, his conscious is alive and well. He is able to come to terms with his wrongs and carries the weight of his guilt as punishment. Because he is willing to hold onto his guilt, he isn't likely to make any apologies for his offenses.
Socially Baleno is a soft spoken man who tries to pick his words wisely. He isn't very expressive, preferring to keep his internal thoughts closed off but will communicate as needed. He prefers his conversations to be terse and straight to the point. He is impatient, especially when it comes to payments, and greatly values his time. This behavior stems back to his childhood during which he felt that he could seldom trust others. In constant fear that whatever information he does release may be used against him, he carefully inspects his associates before sharing anything personal. He likes to keep a small circle of people whom he can consider close. Even he who is not the friendliest person knows that one cannot prosper without any allies. When selecting his comrades, he tends to prefer those who are weaker. This is so he can issue a degree of control and put them back in place if they get out of line. While initially he only looks at his acquired subordinates as tools for his own benefit, he is prone to develop value towards them if they prove worthy.
**Biography:** Unbeknownst to Baleno, he was conceived as the illegitimate child of Moorish general Othello and his lover Desdemona. To conceal their relationship, Desdemona made arrangements to be rid of him shortly after his birth. It was then decided that she and Othello would marry to compensate for the procreation that resulted in the child. Desdemona gave Baleno to a common man and his wife who could not bare children. They raised him as their own and his early days were spent residing in the Olympian Imperium countryside. He realized that he was not the couples biological son by age eight, his darker complexion being a dead give away. He was a rare sight within village and was often ostracized by his peers. Although he loved his adoptive parents, Baleno harbored a desire to learn about his biological parents and why they weren't raising him instead. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the facts, it was obvious that his village would never accept him. He figured it best to set out on his own when he grew older and discover his roots.
Social conflicts put aside, Baleno's upbringing was otherwise quaint. He received a sufficient role model in the form of his foster father and his mother was kind to him. Their impression of Baleno was that of a blessing. While he was in their household he was well behaved and got into minimal trouble when under their supervision. However, he was known for getting into rumbles with the other boys within the village who picked on him. There was one in particular with whom he had a fierce rivalry. Kaeso, because of a girl who they both allegedly liked, was very competitive with Baleno and frequently challenged him. They fought a lot and that was how Baleno discovered his innate combat potential. Wanting to be better than his rival, he began solo training in swordsmanship using wood as a substitute for an actual blade. Fearing that he would fall behind to Baleno, Kaeso concocted a scheme to get him out of the village so he wouldn't surpass him.
The plan was simple but it was enough of an excuse for the village to drive away Baleno who they considered an aberrant among them. Kaeso disguised himself as a wolf using trickery and crept towards the village livestock. As Baleno and his family were shepherds trusted with safeguarding livestock, he managed to deceive Baleno into believing that a wolf was attempting to feast upon the livestock. This resulted in Baleno "crying wolf" on multiple occasions and losing the trust of the villagers. To finish his scheme, Kaeso led a real wolf towards the livestock and allowed it to feast. When the villagers discovered the wolf, Baleno was blamed for his negligence and ousted despite his parents pleas on his behalf.
After being exiled, Baleno traveled around performing odd jobs to survive. Not yet a skilled fighter, he found himself taking menial tasks in neighboring villages. The work he found was temporary and scarce. Starvation was plenty a problem during periods when he could not find employment. Becoming desperate, he resorted to petty theft. Using his job search as a farce, he would enter shops just to case them before later returning to make his plunder. It wouldn't be long before he was caught. His skills at thievery were mediocre and his heists poorly executed. One faithful day, in a bustling coastal city, Baleno made the dreadful mistake of attempting a pickpocket. His potential victim was a wealthy aristocrat who swiftly had him arrested. However, instead of a death sentence for his crime, Baleno was subjected to an equally horrific fate. He was sent to the Colosseum to partake in gladiator games.
Marked for death should he lose a match, Baleno quickly learned how to at least endure the onslaught of beasts he was pit against. He became infamous for surviving out of sheer luck, his impulsive use of deception allowing him to win numerous battles of attrition. Crowds flocked just to see how long it would take for him to be slain and were sorely disappointed. He gradually adapted to the hostility of the Colosseum and his swordsmanship proficiency increased. Eventually, he earned a pardon for his theft and was released from life as a gladiator. Any fame he acquired subsided well before that, the Colosseum's patrons having lost interest in him when he became capable of fighting properly. Having picked up a skill that was much desired in a turbulent land such as the Europa continent, he took to mercenary work. While in some regards it wasn't anymore honest than stealing, at least he was finally earning a consistent income.
Regardless of how far he traveled there was one concern that never stopped nagging Baleno. Having never known his real parents, he always felt as if there was a piece of him missing. It didn't help that he was forbidden from returning home and visiting the man and woman who raised him - the only people he knew capable of answering his questions. In the past whenever he brought up the matter of his biological parents he was brushed aside and written off as paranoid. Now free as a vagabond, he resumed his quest to solve the mystery once and for all. Derailed from his objective by the need to fight for money, he ended up sidetracked into the Empire of Europa in hopes of finding better opportunities.
**Note:**
- He was seventeen when he left home and was sent to the Colosseum roughly a year later.
- He fought as a gladiator for five years, being freed at the age of twenty-three.
- His current primary short term goal is to find a replacement sword. He is also willing to enlist in the army of a lord.
- His long term goals are to uncover the truth about his parents, come to terms with his existence, and to find a place where he belongs.
- He was known as "the Boy Who Cried Wolf" within his village prior to being exiled. |
8,253 | 223 | 2 | 377 | 26,014 | The woman stood, looking at her reflection in the river. A simple spell had turned it into a more reflective surface, and enable her to study herself. Someone might consider it vanity, using magic like this, but Tori Freestone considered it surviving. Her appearance was quite pointed, refined, and...graceful. Anyone could look at her, and think, she's more then human. Tori liked to be trusted, liked to be over looked. It helped her, enabling her to help others with her magic. Studying her appearance, she changed it to a more human look. Softer features, her eye's just slightly softened, doing so with a quick glamor, that she could maintain for hours. After another minute studying her change appearance-Okay, maybe it was a vanity, a bit-she turned away from the river, and turned towards the camp she had set up. She put the fire out, took down the small tent, and packed it away, carrying it, and her travel pack on her back. She looked about, making sure that there was nothing damaging to the environment, before making her way back to the path she had been following to the city.
Tori had been traveling for the better part of two years, some time before then spent in her mother's world, the world of Fae, in the summer court, undertaking some basic education in her magic. Before that, she had essentially been ignorant of who she was, living with her father, growing up admiring House Rose, her father having worked for them most of her life. Tori enjoyed traveling, enjoyed the many experience's and places she got to do and see, and the people that she got to help. It was just so...liberating. She knew one day, perhaps soon, she would have to settle down somewhere, where she would create a living. Maybe with a herb and magic shop type thing. .Or maybe somewhere in the Summer Court, she hadn't decided. And she didn't need to for a few years.
As she walked, she began to sing, softly, her voice quite musical, and she slid into a graceful walk that was almost a dance, that could not be mistaken for anything but. She sang of the warm, soft time of spring, making the words up as she went along, yet stringing them along effectively. She whiled away the hours, as the sun fully rose. She saw the city of Alexandria, she had to stop a minute, simply to take it all in. It was a magnificent city and it just seemed like a picture. The dragons drew her attention, and she took another moment, watching them, their beauty and grace taking her breath away for a moment. They were just such magnificent creatures. Their scales, their colours, glittered in the sun light, glorious and almost like jewels.
She just had to stop and sketch them. Dragons were perhaps her favorite creature alive, and to be able to experience something like this, it filled Tori with Joy. So she took the time to sketch the dragons. When she was done, she carefully put it away in her travel pack, rising once more, and heading towards Alexandria once more. Being back in a city, with the hustle and bustle of people going about their daily business. It made her feel alive. figuring to secure a place to stay, she checked on how much money she had. She had enough to stay in a nice place for a few days, and still have enough to live on for a good amount of time. Especially if she could get some work.
She looked about, searching for an Inn she deemed comfortable enough. She bypassed a shady looking place, deciding that even in the best of cities, there were places that could be considered dangerous. People's nature, especially in a large city, often skewed towards sketchy. traveling, Tori had seen both the best and worst of human nature, and she figured that nothing could surprise her any longer. Fae nature was different. You could never tell what someone of the Summer Court, or the Winter Court were thinking, what their plans were. She realised that she had stopped walking, and was simply looking about. Probably looking quite odd.
She shook her head, as if shaking out dust. She smiled at herself, and looked about. She looked at a few places, and finally settled on one, booking a room for a few days, smiling and chatting with the owner, asking about their life, how they had come to own the inn, asking if there was anything she could do, and typically being friendly. She asked about meals, and then headed to the room she had paid for. She set her things on the bed, and took a few moments to tie her hair back properly, in a braid, and changed into the better of her traveling clothes, pocketing her money in a hidden pocket. And then she set out once more, simply wondering the city.
She had some fun, often stopping and talking with people, letting herself make some acquaintances, some connections in the city, and searching out any potential clients. And then she stopped at a few places, purchasing a few things, and continuing to chat. She smiled, and laughed, and carried her purchases as she continued to wander the city. She finally stopped for food, something simple, and tea, reflecting on what she had learned so far. It seemed that the most relevant thing in the city at the moment was the upcoming wedding, as well as things such as the tournament, which connected to the wedding.
Yet Tori still managed to find a few small jobs that she could do. A lot of people lost things, and this was one of the area's she excelled at. It was a simple matter of connecting one item of the persons with the lost item, yet it could be difficult, especially if there wasn't a strong connection to the item. Yet Tori always periled. Another job or two had to do with creating health potions, or other things like that. Again, things she liked to work with, and things she could always use the practice on. It pleased her that she was able to get easy jobs, but she did also explore the other option of learning more magic. Se had been having trouble finding good sources of magic, except at the Summer Court, but did not want to rely too much on the Fae. they tended to hold favors for a long time, something she had found out quite early.
She sat reflecting on that thought, sipping her tea. Her mother's people weren't all that bad, if you knew them, and Tori did enjoy her time there. And she had been offered once or twice the position her mother held. Yet she could not help but think of her mothers words to her father.
_I'm scared for her_
It was a massive negative to not staying in the Summer Court. Finishing her drink, she rose and continued to wander the city. | **Name:** Tori Freestone
**Titles:** Currently does not have a title
**Affiliation:** The Summer Court and House Rose but as a wandering mage, Tori offers her services where ever possible, learning what she can about magic.
**Gender:** Female
**Age:** 23, however, she appears both older and younger.
**Birthplace:** Rose Marches (in, I think, The Empire of Europa).
Origin:
**Race:** Half Fae (Elf) and half human.
**Appearance:** Tori is quite tall, and willowly. She is approximately 6 foot, and has skin darkened by the sun, giving her a golden brown colour. Her hair is long, reaching to the middle of her back, and blonde. Her features are typically elven, yet are smoothed out by human characteristics, and with a simple glamour she can appear complete human. Her eyes are a light, lively green. She typically wears clothes more suitable for traveling, but does have more formal clothes, which typically do not get worn much. Her clothes are worn, but still in good condition.
**Occupation:** A wandering mage, Tori accepts jobs where ever she goes, offering her services and learning what she can to further improve her magic.
**Resources:**
1.Satchel
2.Canteen of water
3.Spare set of clothes, both travel and "Fancy"
4.Staff, which she uses as a way to tune and focus her magic
**Skills:** Being a magic user, Tori has a few skills related to this, mainly basic abilities in the use of Fire and water, as well as an ability in hunting and tracking (By magical means)
**Personality:** A carefree and easy going spirit, Tori enjoys making people laugh, as well as fulfilling their dreams and desires. She prefers to let things go, then to hold grudges. She has a curious mind, often prompting the saying “Curiosity killed the cat” to come to mind. She often makes connections to things, figuring out puzzles and challenges in great leaps. She has a kind and caring personality, yet she does have some more human qualities. She can at times be extremely stubborn, and she is focused and determined on on what she does.
**Biography:**
Tori was born to a human father, and a Elven mother. She was born during a time where skirmishes and wars between Fae kind and human kind with the norm, her father was unaware that she existed until a month after her birth, Tori was found on the doorstep of his house, bundled in warm clothes and blankets, with a letter. Perhaps the only thing that caused her father to keep her was this in the letter:
_She has your eyes I fear for her life She's safer with you_
And the moment Tori opened her eyes, her father never wanted to give her up. Her father was a stable hand for House Rose, and Tori grew up with the run of the stables, as well as playing with other children. Her easy going nature, and ability to make people laugh caused people to like and adore her. She grew up admiring Lady Talia, and the challenges she had to face. Tori vowed that one day, she would be a great adventure, and help out where ever she could.
On her 16th birthday, she was approached by a woman, Fae, from the Summer Court, who stated that her mother had died, and that her dying wish was for her daughter to know who she was. Tori approached her father about this, who revealed that her mother was indeed a member of the Summer Court, and that her mother, and himself, had had a brief liaison, resulting in Tori.
Feeling betrayed and hurt, Tori took off, and wandered the land for a time, returning only after a year. She was just in time to reconcile with her father, as no less then a week later, he was injured and killed when a horse bucked. Unable to stay there, Tori agreed to go to the Summer Court, where she found out who her mother was, and just what she herself could do. From there Tori traveled, learning what she could, occasional returning to both her fathers home and the Summer Court. |
8,254 | 223 | 3 | 1,343 | 4,697 | In the Frigid Northern wasteland known as the Winter Court, two weeks prior to the wedding.
A messenger from The Rus capital arrived at noon, shivering and covered in frost. The message bore news of a wedding between nobility from both Europa and The Rus. Surely joyous news, for them at least. Word was delivered to the Queen of Winter Court, she was far too preoccupied with more 'at home' matters to even consider arriving at the wedding. Several folk of higher standing were overjoyed, an event like this would surely improve their social status and make them seem more interesting.
They loaded their carts and set out to the wedding.
In the main hall, Queen Mab ordered Sir Nikolai to follow along. To serve as something of a substitute for the queen herself. To be sure, this had greater implications. Refusing an invitation to a wedding and sending instead a diplomat to record the events. Some would be insulted. However, not sending any word, or outright disregarding the invitation would be more of an insult.
Nikolai obliged, leaving at once to ready himself for the long trip. There are no permanent roads in Winter Court. Only the path cut by those daring few who venture out into the cold. The journey to and from Winter Court is always treacherous, makes warring against them difficult. Invasion is suicidal at worst, stupid at best.
It also makes general commerce difficult as well.
I'm digressing.
In Nikolai's personal chambers a sneaky peeker would see him donning a suit of skintight furs, from neck to toe it covered his body. Why is he wearing this? Metal armor on bare skin in the cold is the worst possible thing, you have no idea. The suit of furs was to insulate him and allow him to wear his armor at the same time. After slipping himself into the outfit he slid his armor on over it. The chainmail first and then the platemail, of course.
After his furs and armor were donned, he pulled a robe over his armor, concealing it from view. Around his waist he tied the rope that his head hangs from, clipping the box onto the sling.
To complete his wardrobe he slid a cloak around his neck. His hood was pulled up and held in place with some metal wiring, the hood also had a mesh frame in front of it. Behind the frame was a silk cloth, making it impossible for people to see his lack of a head. Another downside to being headless, it's surprising to everyone.
After dressing himself warmly, he walked to the stables and mounted his trusty horse Pheidippedes. The colossal stallion was already loaded with feed, equipment, rations, and his weapons. The horse too was wearing a cloak of furs to keep him warm.
Fast forward past all of the dreary snowy walking sequences, don't ignore the fact that a couple nobles died on their trip to the wedding due to a raider attack, and then you have Nikolai at the main gate to the city the Wedding is being hosted in. The horseman had a bit of trouble getting past the guards, explaining to them that he had a severe deformnity that would offend other people. Having to hide his actual head from them just to get past the gate.
When the Dragons arrived, Nikolai positioned himself at the nearest inn and sat at the counter with hood raised. Not ordering anything, for obvious reasons, simply sittng there and listening to the conversations around him. For the next two days Nikolai rested in the inn, rather than occupying himself with the other nobility. They bored him, and honestly, if he had known about the ruckus going on with Prince Charming, he would have been rather upset that he had to stay here and participate with some stupid wedding. | Name: Sir Nikolai Pelletier
Titles: Emissary and Champion of the Winter Court
Affiliation: Highborn to the Winter Court, born into a lower family of Nobility. His position of nobility was raised upon his revival from the dead.
Gender: Male
Age: 89 (26 years alive, 56 years dead, 7 years undead.)
Birthplace: Cannala
Origin: The tale of the Dullahan from Irish Folklore, also known as the Headless Rider.
Race: Undead Fae
Appearance: (A Picture will come soon enough, but for now, a detailed description.) Nikolai Pelletier is an above average man in height, weight, and build. He has no remarkable traits such as beautiful eyes, golden locks of hair, or strange skin color. Except for one minor detail. Nikolai has no head. Well, not on his shoulders anyway. He carries his head on his waist in a glass case. The case is ornately designed to ensure that his head doesn't look ugly while he totes it about. The trim around it is made of polished brass with silver inlay. The portion of his neck that is severed has a silk cloth laid across it and is tied in place by gold lace. The case is attached to his waist by a chain of steel, coated in silver to give it a more high class look. When he truly wishes to hide his undead-ness, he will cover the case in a square of chainmail. This hides his head from those around him.
His body is reasonably fit, about as fit as you would expect a soldier to be. Where his neck would connect to his head there is another piece of silk held in place by a length of gold lace, this keeps him from showing his insides to those that he converses with. It makes diplomacy a bit easier. His skin is a bit pale, but nothing unnatural.
Adorning his form is a suit of classy armor, the armor of nobility of course. It is a suit of hybrid mail with a mix of chain and plate to give a full range of protection. It is made from damascus steel, forged in a crucible and then hammered across a mold of his body. The suit was forged specifically for him, making his movements significantly more natural while wearing it. To make discussion with others even easier, he had a special helmet forged. This helmet attaches to his back and chest, rather than his shoulders. This allows him to turn the helmet to substitute natural movement. It makes him more alive than he really is.
His head is a normal humanoid head, though with several fae traits. (Which is understood, as he is a fae, not a human.) His head is rather angular with a pointed jawline. His eyes are closed, though his eye color is hazel. The hair on his head is relatively short and well kept, his hair color is dark brown. His nose is a bit long but not unattractively large. His ears are pointed at the top and his lobes are a bit long.
Nikolai himself stands at 6'7" and weighs 212 lbs.
Occupation: A diplomat from the Winter Court, serving as Queen Mab's personal champion for duels and to accompany her to potentionally dangerous events.
Resources:
- Hand Forged Armor: A suit of armor specially forged for him, ordered by Queen Mab herself to be made. It is a simple suit of armor that can be concealed under clothing or worn openly.
- Cavalry Sabre: A three foot long blade with a sizeable crossguard, it is a simple and elegantly curved blade. Perfectly suited for combat on the ground and on horseback. Made from steel, its handle is made from yew and is coated in cattle hide.
- Combat Lance: Unlike the lances seen in jousting competitions, this lance is designed for true mounted combat. It is a deadly sharp length of metal with a cross shaped tip, it is brutally efficient at punching holes in his foes. It is an oak lance, measuring seven feet long from tip to pommel. The tip is made from steel, stone sharpened and adding another seven inches to the weapon. It is unweildy when not on horseback.
- Reasonable wealth: His social status allows him to earn money passively, though his job is high risk, it actually doesn't involve much more than him riding about on his horse and occasionally mounted combat. He constantly has money to pay for room and board, food, and the like. It is a good living, albeit a simple one.
- Pheidippides: Nikolai's trusty horse. A massive war horse, standing at 24 hands.(8 feet tall.) This horse is a monstrous stallion, towering over man, elf, and fae alike. Its coat is charoal and mottled with white splotches, its mane is a deep black with a beautiful gloss. Its eyes are intense, shining and hazel like his rider's own. Pheidippides is as high bred as you can get when it comes to horses. He can haul a four horse cart on his own, able to pull three tons of weight behind himself.
Pheidippides is a 228 stone horse. (3,000 lbs.) Tremendously strong and fiercely loyal, Pheidippides refuses any rider but Nikolai. Bucking them off with an intensity unmatched by lesser horses. Pheidippides is not the fastest horse in the world by any stretch, but he is significantly faster than any human. Able to gallop at 38 mph, canter at 15 mph, trot at 10, and walk at 5. Pheidippides has great stamina, most horses can only gallop for short bursts. He, however, can gallop for three solid hours before even showing signs of exhaustion.
However, Pheidippides's greatest shortcoming is his own size. Pheidippedes has joint problems due to his weight, extended periods of riding without rest can leave him exhausted and worthless for riding. His hooves must be filed daily, otherwise they turn rough and painful for him.
Skills:
- Diplomat: As the emissary from the Winter Court he is required to be skilled in diplomatic ventures. His specialties are interrogation, intimidation, and parties.
- Rider: What? He's a headless horseman. He's skilled at riding horses.
- Soldier: Upon being raised from the dead, post him learning of his killer's death, Nikolai joined the military and swiftly jumped through ranks. Of course later being promoted to Champion and Emissary through a long series of events that would take a while to record.
Personality: Nikolai is a cynic by trade and a racist by hobby, as a nobleman of the Fae-kind he holds himself in a much higher standing than other 'lesser' races. Humans, elves, and other kinds are lesser to Fae in his eyes. However, he is a professional, and never lets his personal view of others obscure his thoughts. Outside of his duties he is still an uptight and generally unpleasant person to be around.
Biography: The tale of the Dullahan isn't a story with a "Long long ago." or a "And they lived happily ever after." It's simply a tale of a man who lost his head in an argument, and then lost his head in the following fight. With death fresh on his collar and fury fresh on his lips, he was not so bound to the grave as normal men would be. The horseman rose from the grave to seek vengeance, but he was too late. Now he roams the earth, seeking purpose in mortal lands as one no longer among the living. |
8,255 | 223 | 4 | 262 | 646 | Europa Wilderness, the road to Alexandria
The cold breath of winter found its way weaving across the land into the hood of a cloaked traveler. The traveler felt the nipping wind bite at his face as it burrowed its' way down his neck to his toes and shivered softly as he snapped the reins with a short flick of his wrists. Slowly the beaten carriage crawled along the well-worn path, an old carriage road situated precariously next to a drop off and a steeply sloped hill. Located at the bottom of the hill was a well visible lake, frozen partly in a visually appealing jagged-like pattern, like the jaws of some great beast. Parting his gaze from the lake, the traveler looked ahead of him to see the thin pass begin to widen into a wider, stone cobble road. He was but a few days from the city and he could already hear in the distance the commotion of people and the noises of majestic creatures. A soft laugh escaped his lips, his breath like a puff of smoke in the cool air. It had been a long while since he had begun his journey and it amused him to think that there was still even more for him to see, and such an event as a royal wedding would undoubtedly hold lucrative business opportunities for him to hold of. The varied wares and trinkets he had acquired over his travels would hopefully sell to the myriad of consumers in Alexandria, though, it was definite there would be fierce trade competition within the streets and he knew that he needed connections as soon as he arrived as well as an enforcer or bodyguard of some type. To set up shop in such a big stage without friends or protection was an amateur move and such actions were only ways to lose money.
Outside Dragon Keep, Marketplace
After the long debacle of navigating his carriage through the heavily packed streets for hours, Orpheus had finally situated himself comfortably in a marketplace within sight of Dragon Keep. The structure was towering and held a certain depressing visage over the lower people, or at least that is what Orpheus saw, not the common opinion of the people standing around him, ogling the majestic features of the building. All he could imagine was the backs of the common people it was built on when he observed the structure, and looking around him, they all seemed oblivious to their backs being used. With a sigh Orpheus returned back to what he had been doing before he had been distracted by his ideals, something he found distracted him more than often.
After conversing with a wide amount of merchants traders, Orpheus began to hear about some kind of bard competition within the Keep. An interesting idea, and there could be things to be gained from joining such a contest. Should he join and place well, he would have the chance to have his name known throughout some areas of the city. Having a name was a double edged blade, there came influence and bigger opportunities, but there was also higher risk involved. Misfortunes were common in these times and envy and greed had seen many along his travels to meet these stripes of bad luck. Though risky Orpheus decided he did not come to this city to lurk around as a market rat this time as he had done so far up until he had arrived in Alexandria, he would use his time here to seek his ambitions and take risks.
He took time to barter with the other stands near him and get to know the flow of gold within the city. A polite face and well-kept manners were enough to squeeze information on the more skilled producers of goods in the city from the more naive traders, but it required a little bit of gold from Orpheus’s own pocket to learn the markets from the older more grizzled merchants. He visited various places after locking down his carriage and paying off a less than ambitious fruit stand owner to watch his wares in his absence. One of his first destinations was the blacksmiths’ forges, an already crowded destination by many all seeking to place orders from the metal workers. This day, orpheus was satisfied in merely introducing himself to the smiths and getting to know their skill levels and quality of their work.
Orpheus leaned back in his stool against a barrel behind the table of his market stand and sighed, usually these times behind his own stand were the only brief moments of true relaxation he ever got, and even then it wasn’t complete rest. He kept a sharp eye open on his wares as he relaxed, making sure no open handed thieves took advantage of his relaxing. His wares had accumulated over time from just instruments of the musical arts to instruments of all shapes and sizes. He had anything the eye fancied, trinkets, jewelry, books, and weapons, all from the lands he had travelled before arriving in Alexandria. He had found there was more gold to be made from a wide variety of goods rather than focusing on one specific type of product without being the producer of such goods. He displayed the few weapons he had gathered more prominently to the passing viewer, there was also a combat tournament going on in celebration of the royal marriage and it was in Orpheus’s hopes that some of the prospective contestants would be perusing the markets in search of a good blade to suit their needs in the upcoming competition. | **Name:** Orpheus Taygetus, Descended from the original Orpheus
**Titles:** None Yet
**Affiliation:** An amateur travelling trader and musician, Orpheus has ties with many merchants and musicians of his homeland but in the place of his mother’s ancestors, Europa, he is in a place unknown to him.
**Gender:** Male
**Age:** 22
**Birthplace:** Hellas
**Origin:** Orpheus and Eurydice
**Race:** Human, A mix of Hellas and Celt Blood
**Appearance:**
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**Occupation:** Travelling Merchant and Bard
**Resources:**
-Trade Commodities from his Homeland
-A bag of coins
-A Golden Lyre
-An Ivory Lyre
-A wide assortment of instruments
-A Dagger
**Skills: **
Merchant/Business Minded- Orpheus is skilled in the art of marketing and obtaining money through many means. As well as good at marketing, he has developed at least an amateur sense of identifying lucrative opportunities
Eye for Potential- Orpheus can tell the worth of a man with just a short look, a useful tool in negotiations as well as finding useful friends.
Silver Tongued- A natural born utilizer of words, Orpheus has always been well gifted with an outgoing personality and an open plethora of words to get what he wants. Preferring the use of his tongue to the use of his dagger, he speaks with strong persuasiveness. Just as well as he can convince people he can also lie with similar ease.
Musician- An extremely talented musician, Orpheus plays his Golden Lyre beautifully having learned how to play since a very young age as well as a wide plethora of unique instruments he has learned
**Personality:**
Orpheus is an earnest young man with an outgoing and charismatic personality. Sharp of wit and even sharper of tongue, he is quite intelligent and seeks to utilize his own talents to their furthest extents. Beneath the face of the cheerful young musician lies the mind of an old wise fox, clever, sly and ambitious who will do many things to reach his goal. To sit upon a throne of his own wealth obtained through the use of his own talents and looking down at the backs of the people of power he has toppled to reach the pinnacle is the basis of his final goal. To reach such a shining stage from his current standing, Orpheus, even at his age, has a basic understanding of the morals and means necessary to make such a dream happen. Though an opportunist and ambitious, Orpheus still knows the meaning of companionship and loyalty and has a moral obligation against betrayal of those he considers true allies. Even further beneath his burning ambition is a smoldering distaste for those of noble blood.
**Biography: **
Born the bastard of a Hellan nobleman and a Celtic musician, Orpheus was raised in the lesser known areas of his father’s rural estate as a lowly servant alongside his caring mother. His mother was a comely maiden from Europa with a strong talent in music who had been captured by slave traders on the road while she and her caravan travelled through Hellas. She was sold as a slave to a Hellan nobleman captivated by her fair skin and golden hair. A year and a half later, at the horror of the lady of the house, Orpheus was born, a young child with the same fair skin and blonde hair as his mother. Since a young age he discovered the beautiful music talent he inherited from his mother and with his mother, he spent the little amount of hours in his free time fostering his skill with instruments provided as gifts to his mother from his father.
Through the years, Orpheus acquired enough freedom that he could leave the estate when he wanted as long as he returned within reasonable time. It was with this that Orpheus entered the market streets of Parnassus, a captivated rural slave bumpkin wandering around the city for the first time. While wandering the streets he found himself in a winding maze of the back alleys, it was here he found a small market stand in the shadows of decrepit pillars sitting atop ruined walkways. Standing within the stall was a hooded old man leaning quite still against the rotted olive wood posts in his stand. As Orpheus approached the hooded figure, it spoke to him in a surprisingly enchanting voice that radiated with warmth, “Come hither child, need not be cautious child, you are not lost, this was your destination whether you knew it or not. I have a gift for you child”, as he spoke the old man fumbled through a linen bag slung over his shoulder.
Standing across the stand at this point, Orpheus strained his eyes to see the face of the old man, shrouded under the hood. The old man lifted his face towards Orpheus, thought the rest of his facial features were hidden by the shade of his hood, Orpheus could see clearly the brilliant glowing golden eyes that lay beneath the shroud. Quite apprehensive and nervous, the 13 year old Orpheus watched anxiously as the Golden-eyed old man pulled a beautiful golden lyre from his bag, the bow and handle of the lyre wrapped in gold and embroidered beautifully, the strings appeared to be thin strands of gold themselves.
Orpheus was captivated by the beauty of the instrument and could look only with awe at the delicate inscriptions and folding on the lyre. The old man spoke his voice still warm and sweet, “I will give you this instrument, child, take it, a gift.” He said as held out the lyre. Awestruck, Orpheus mindlessly reached his hand out to take the Lyre and then nervously retracted his hand as he came back to his senses and suspicion. “There are no such thing as gifts, sir. I must ask, there are surely strings attached to such a lucrative gift, and I fear that such strings are not the type I want to be tied up by, so what is the catch?”. said Orpheus as he looked into the golden eyes of the old man. The old man let out a soft chuckle, “You are certainly sharp of tongue for a young one. Indeed, this gift may seem too good to be true but it is a true gift. One from me to you with honest intentions, not quite like the gifts you know of that your father gives to your mother with the intentions of receiving affection, your talents have impressed me child, and perhaps you will be someone worth mentioning in the future.” The old man leaned in closer to Orpheus, his eyes burning ever more brightly as he drew closer, within seconds the dark alleyways was being bathed in radiant light and Orpheus, shielding his eyes, could hear the old man’s voice close to his ear, “The only intention behind this gift is in gratitude of entertainment you have given me so far, perhaps you will be someone to continue watching in the future...perhaps like you great-grandfather...” The voice faded as the shadows of the alleyway slinked back. Orpheus cautiously opened his eyes, the stand and old man had disappeared and all that remained was the Golden Lyre laying atop the linen bag.
Sometime around the fourteenth month of his eighteenth year, a now well established peddler in Parnassus who had been given his own freedom from his father as a gift to his mother, Orpheus would sell his wares and play his beautiful music regularly using a Lyre he bought with his own money within the streets. He received news that his father had passed away as a result of a mysterious illness. Orpheus was aware of the gravity of the issue with his father’s passing. His father had been the one who stood between his official wife and Orpheus’ mother, and with his passing his mother was no longer protected. Hurriedly, Orpheus travelled to the estate to find his mother but was destroyed to find he was too late. The lady of the house’s cruelty had already reached his mother. He found her laying in pig stables, her beautiful blond hair scalped and her fair skin burned. Horrified, Orpheus wrapped his mother in a cloth and carried the corpse away into the nearby forest. He buried her beneath a small oak tree in a wide open field. With sorrow, he placed his lyre that he spent so long saving up for on her grave and left. That night, he packed up his things, spent the last of his gold on a carriage and two mules, gathered all his goods and set out on a journey.
**Notes: **
-He dislikes nobles |
8,256 | 223 | 5 | 2,436 | 984 | Agafor was headed straight for the capitol city of Europa to see the royal wedding between the royal families of the Rus and Europa. He wasn't going to celebrate the marriage, he was going to find the opportunity to gain more power and let himself become known to the foreign kingdom that he was a powerful warlock and that it was always more beneficial to be on his good side and not be his enemy.
The trip was long and not a luxury, but luxuries were not something he always got especially since he was mostly a wanderer. he eventually got the city and he walked through the outskirts of the city and wondered how he would get into the palace to see the wedding since this country was different than his and no one would really know him. he decided that he would need to find the royal family of the Rus and hope that they would let him see the wedding, after all he was a son of Chernobog. | Name: Agafor, Son of Chernobog
Titles: Son of The Dark One, High Warlock
Affiliation: Chernobog the black god
Gender: male
Age: 20
Birthplace: The Tsardom of the Rus
Origin: The story of the duality between the god of light and sun Belobog and the god of darkness and chaos Chernobog has been told for hundreds of years. No one knows exactly where the two gods originated, whether they were brothers or if they were one being separated into two gods, but what is known is that they are like opposites and have been in conflict for as long their followers could remember. Their battles had done a great amount of damage to the land, and eventually formed a truce to not directly go to war with another knowing that it would mean mutually assured destruction for the both of them as well as the Tsardom. In order to still undermine one another without breaking the truce, both Belobog and Chernobog started having Demigod children, but it was a rare case for there to be a birth of a demigod.
Agafor was one of those rare children. Not wanting the children to have too much attention to them until they were older, both Belobog and Chernobog had the demigods born to honest and common families. For Belobog he wanted his children to experience humanity and attain respect and humility through the common people. Chernobog believed that by having his children grow up as a commoner they would see the worst of humanity and the evils that plagued human society. Many said that the children of Belobog were baptized in warmth the summer sun, while the children of Chernobog were said to be baptized in the dark night of a cold winter.
Race: Demigod
Appearance:
He looks like this but his hair is a dark red and his eyes are an eerie blue.
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His Demigod form looks like this
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Occupation: Warlock and demigod
Resources: Thanks to his godly heritage and using his powers for price, Agafor has a good amount of wealth. He is not as rich as lord or royalty, but he is most definitely not poor or a commoner. He is well known throughout the Tsardom of The Rus and people come to him asking for favors and when he needs to he will come to someone asking for to return their favor. In order to bind someone to serving him when he needs a favor in return for his services, Agafor makes them sign a contract which will only be broken when they do the favor that is asked of them. If they do not fallow the rules of the contract then Agafor will have the power bring bad misfortune to them. He has his Warlock robes and a magic staff which helps him focus his power.
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Skills: He is very well versed in the arcane arts and has a huge knowledge of magic and the cosmology of the Slavic pantheon. Agafor is a very powerful magic user and has senses that are more sharp than regular humans because of his godly heritage. He can change into his Demigod form which grants him increased strength and the ability to fly, but his ability to use magic in complex ways is limited.
Personality: Because he is a son of Chernobog the black god, Agafor has a very dark personality and seems terrifying to those that he see and talk to him. He doesn't consider himself good and he tries to not believe that he is evil, but he is one warlock that does not want to be crossed, and his enemies always regretted going against him. He has almost an obsession with revenge and believes that any offenses done against him should be repaid with incredible severity. Even though he doesn't really take sides in the grand scheme of things in the different kingdoms, he hates people who use the excuse of noble causes to kill people and lie about it being the right way. Agafor is very proud of his masculinity and he isn't afraid to show his pride.
Politically Agafor considers himself to be independent from the government of the kingdom, but he does support the monarchy and believes in a more traditionalist kingdom where people respect the great mysterious powers that were everywhere in the world. He finds science to be rediculous and believes that it is no where near as great as the power of magic and godly father.
Biography: Agafor was born on a cold snowy night in one of the more poorer villages of the Tsardom and his family was impoverished. From a very early age, Agafor showed a powerful talent for magic, black magic to be specific. Some of more superstitious villagers believed that he was a demigod son of Chernobog the black god. Because of this, for as long as he could remember Agafor was an outcast among his village and people feared him. He didn't hate them, but he had no love for them either and he was not above using his gifts to make some of the villages become terrified of him.
He spent most of his childhood years learning how to make his magic more powerful and studying the vast lore of the warlocks. When he was fourteen years old Agafor finally met his father in a vision. The place was a dark and lonely mountain surrounded by demons and other infernal entities. It was there that Agafor learned the truth about the duality between his father and Belobog, he was destined to continue the war between the light and darkness. He was the darkness and the children of Belobog were the light. Once the vision was finished, Agafor decided that it was time to leave his village and find his true way in life.
Even though the vision said that he was destined to fight against the forces of light, Agafor was more interested in making his powers as strong as possible and gaining a huge reputation with his magical skills. He didn't say goodbye to his family, he had never had any connection to them and they had contemplated a few times of abandoning him when he was a very young boy. He was glad to finally be free of the village and went out on his own. And that's is when his journey began and his talents became well known throughout the kingdom and people began coming to him for favors. He now is wandering the Kingdom of The Russ, seeking the next task he can put his power too.
Notes: he has a big dislike of light magic and devine power |
8,257 | 223 | 6 | 1,605 | 2,000 | In the marketplace, Baleno caught sight of many merchants hawking weapons and armor for the upcoming grand tourney. Countless stalls were crowded with both the humblest and grandest of arms and armor. Both High Lords and lowly sellswords perused the goods on display. Some Merchants were honest and displayed quality wares while others were bare faced swindlers pushing defective products. It was yet another potentially lethal game in Alexandria but one every warrior had to play to find his or her weapon. Several lordly heralds shouted into the crowd encouraging peasants and knights to pledge service to this lord or that lord. Lady Marshall Evelyn may have been forming an Imperial Army but every family and guild was still hiring hands to swing swords. It would be reliable income for a vagabond fighter.
One of House Charming's recruiters caught eye of the sellsword and called out, "You look like a tough one! Why not enter the service of the Princes of Charming? It'll be a bed, hot food, and girls to warm ya at night! Or boys if you prefer" several soldiers had a laugh at that. Meanwhile as Orpheus was peddling his own goods not far from Baleno, a tall knight in grey plate with white armor and a frozen heart on his chest stepped in front of the bard.
It was none other than Sir Donald Hart, Snow White's Champion the uplifted huntsman. He had been well rewarded for betraying Lady Snow's mother the Witch-Queen of the Winter lands. Besides entering the nobility, it is said Sir Hart was with Lady Snow at all times. Even in the bedchamber. Though these rumors also state that one of the seven Dwarf Lords visits her each day of the week and that the rivalry with her sister Lady Rose is actually a lover's tiff. The bearded and dark-eyed knight looked over the goods and said, "I need a good axe Hellan. And a few daggers if you have to sell."
Meanwhile near the inns, two different Faeborn chanced meetings with their own respective courts. Or perhaps it was not chance at all. As Tori walked through the city, a long haired and pointy-eared visage came into view. The Lord was flanked by Elven knights in glimmering scale plate. The Elf had unnaturally deep blue eyes and pale skin, his hair was silky and seemed to glisten in the sun as his bright eyes caught sight of her.
The Elf cocked his head and said, "I see part of Summer in you girl. A summer light I used to know.... ah. You are Lady Freestone's daughter." The Elf bowed his head and smiled, "Lord Lucien Greenleaf of the Everforest Kingdom. I knew your mother but I never saw you. Until now." Lucien chuckled, "Why is the daughter of Freestone strolling through the streets like a commoner and not a noble? Surely you'd much rather be in the company of your kin in the Summer Court and Elf Houses?" It was likely Lucien knew all about Tori's story but lords, especially Fae, loved their games.
Nikolai felt a chill on the air and watched as frost suddenly appeared on every surface near and the commoners began streaming away. A deep sonorous chuckle edged with ice sounded, "Ah. Mab's champion. And here I thought perhaps you would be seeing the Milliner." It was the Snow Queen, Viona, one of Mab's most powerful vassals. With her was a train of Winter Fae, Snow Elves, and other creatures of the dark and cold. The spritely Jack Frost hovered over the Snow Queen's shoulder.
The Snow Queen chuckled once more and sat next to Nikolai, the chair coated with sleet instantly, "I don't see how you can abide simply sitting among the mortals. So boring. Seducing and entrapping is so much more amusing." Viona leaned back and said, "Honestly Sir Nikolai. It is quite rude of you to not escort your lady into the Keep. Mab desires for us to introduce ourselves to the mortal royals and so we must. I would have you accompany me in case some mortal needs killing." Fae law prohibited a Fae from directly killing a mortal free from Fae hold but there were ways to skirt those rules.
Meanwhile as Agafor entered the keep a Herald from Rus called out, "Agafor, High Warlock, and Son of the Dark One!" Several Rus Lords and Rus Demigods inclined their heads while other mages began muttering behind their hands. Imperium, Celt, and Nord demigods regarded him coolly while the Guardians fingered their blades. Tsarina Vasilia called to Agafor,"Ah the son of the dark one. It's been to long Agafor. Tell me, have you come to offer your services as my vassal or is this purely a well-wishing venture." Vasilia smiled while Ivan stared the demigod down with the knights of Dawn, Day, and Night behind him. | Everyone's sheets are still accepted and if I have the time I might post one of my own. |
8,258 | 223 | 7 | 377 | 26,014 | Tori
Tori wasn't surprised when she was approached by a Faeborn. She studied the elf, sure she had never come across him. Graunted, she had met a lot of Faeborn in her time in the Summer Court, and she hadn't spent a large amount of time there in anycase. Mostly, it had just been a learning experience rather then a social visit.
it didn't surprise her that he knew who she was though. While she was training ner own senses, she hadn't been successful at being able to sense the magic and power inside others just yet. She wasn't aware that it was possible to determine which Court she was aligned with, nor had she been aware that hers reseambled her mothers.
She curtsied as Lucien introduced himself, keeping her eyes on his, and not looking down nor away. She knew it was incredibly likely that Lucien knew her story, and was aware that the fact he asked was simply a game, she smiled. She had learned pretty quickly that the Fae enjoyed games, and enjoyed tricking or manipulating people.
"yes, Lord Lucien, my mother wished me to be away from the Courts as I grew up. She thought that it was better for me to live with my father, and therefore be able to interact with humans more effectively then most Fae." She could play the word game as well. She had learned that quite quickly. She shrugged at his question about why she would be walking the streets like a commoner.
she appeared thoughtful, as if it was a hard question to answer. "although my reasons are mostly personal, the easiest way to answer that is that I straddle both worlds. Human and Fae. I enjoy being in both words, and I decided that in order to maintain both aspects of my heritage, that by maintaining a commoner position in the human world, I can be more valuable to the Summer Court"
she smiled, and gave a laugh, "I am sorry, Lord Lucien, I forgot my mannors. I should introduce myself properly. I am indeed my mothers Daughter. My name is Tori" she deliberately left off her last name, knowing that names, when spoken by the owner, were power. | **Name:** Tori Freestone
**Titles:** Currently does not have a title
**Affiliation:** The Summer Court and House Rose but as a wandering mage, Tori offers her services where ever possible, learning what she can about magic.
**Gender:** Female
**Age:** 23, however, she appears both older and younger.
**Birthplace:** Rose Marches (in, I think, The Empire of Europa).
Origin:
**Race:** Half Fae (Elf) and half human.
**Appearance:** Tori is quite tall, and willowly. She is approximately 6 foot, and has skin darkened by the sun, giving her a golden brown colour. Her hair is long, reaching to the middle of her back, and blonde. Her features are typically elven, yet are smoothed out by human characteristics, and with a simple glamour she can appear complete human. Her eyes are a light, lively green. She typically wears clothes more suitable for traveling, but does have more formal clothes, which typically do not get worn much. Her clothes are worn, but still in good condition.
**Occupation:** A wandering mage, Tori accepts jobs where ever she goes, offering her services and learning what she can to further improve her magic.
**Resources:**
1.Satchel
2.Canteen of water
3.Spare set of clothes, both travel and "Fancy"
4.Staff, which she uses as a way to tune and focus her magic
**Skills:** Being a magic user, Tori has a few skills related to this, mainly basic abilities in the use of Fire and water, as well as an ability in hunting and tracking (By magical means)
**Personality:** A carefree and easy going spirit, Tori enjoys making people laugh, as well as fulfilling their dreams and desires. She prefers to let things go, then to hold grudges. She has a curious mind, often prompting the saying “Curiosity killed the cat” to come to mind. She often makes connections to things, figuring out puzzles and challenges in great leaps. She has a kind and caring personality, yet she does have some more human qualities. She can at times be extremely stubborn, and she is focused and determined on on what she does.
**Biography:**
Tori was born to a human father, and a Elven mother. She was born during a time where skirmishes and wars between Fae kind and human kind with the norm, her father was unaware that she existed until a month after her birth, Tori was found on the doorstep of his house, bundled in warm clothes and blankets, with a letter. Perhaps the only thing that caused her father to keep her was this in the letter:
_She has your eyes I fear for her life She's safer with you_
And the moment Tori opened her eyes, her father never wanted to give her up. Her father was a stable hand for House Rose, and Tori grew up with the run of the stables, as well as playing with other children. Her easy going nature, and ability to make people laugh caused people to like and adore her. She grew up admiring Lady Talia, and the challenges she had to face. Tori vowed that one day, she would be a great adventure, and help out where ever she could.
On her 16th birthday, she was approached by a woman, Fae, from the Summer Court, who stated that her mother had died, and that her dying wish was for her daughter to know who she was. Tori approached her father about this, who revealed that her mother was indeed a member of the Summer Court, and that her mother, and himself, had had a brief liaison, resulting in Tori.
Feeling betrayed and hurt, Tori took off, and wandered the land for a time, returning only after a year. She was just in time to reconcile with her father, as no less then a week later, he was injured and killed when a horse bucked. Unable to stay there, Tori agreed to go to the Summer Court, where she found out who her mother was, and just what she herself could do. From there Tori traveled, learning what she could, occasional returning to both her fathers home and the Summer Court. |
8,259 | 223 | 8 | 2,772 | 147 | While the processions of Alexandria roared behind him, Baleno was involved with a fine sword until the merchant told him its price. Gritting his teeth out of embarrassment of having to decline the purchase and disgust at how high he was charging, Baleno grudgingly placed the weapon back on its rack. It was a shame that such a glorious blade cost so much. He was sure that it would be put to proper use in his hands and not that of the aristocrat that could afford it. Baleno wished a good day to the merchant and turned to leave his stall. That was when he came face to face with his wishes.
The recruiter's offer was like music to his ears, a mischievous smirk sculpting his lips. All he needed to peak his curiosity was the word prince. And to think that he didn't even have to go far to find a need for his services. There wasn't a chance in hell that Baleno would decline the offer. Before opening his mouth to accept, he shot his eyes back at the sword he was marveling. Blessed with another job it seemed, the coin that Baleno required to get the weapon was as far away from him as his feet were from his knees. Sure a bit of labor was required but it wasn't like Baleno couldn't cut his way to another payday.
"I humbly accept the honor if it is to be mine," Baleno responded to the recruiter, tilting his torso in a slight bow of respect and gratefulness. "And I prefer women, thank you, " he sarcastically added with his own flavor of bold humor.
While Baleno appreciated the offer he knew that no job came without competition. Even if he were to gain acceptance into the ranks of such high nobility, a service that carried more stability than any of his previous ventures, he knew that he would be fighting not only next to some fine warriors but against them for recognition. As a man who sought profession at every angle, Baleno was fully prepared to do what it took to stand apart from the rest. He had his invitation so now he needed to secure it. Already aware of the upcoming fighting competitions, his next move was to gain access to the Keep. Since he was a foreigner he wasn't formally acquainted with the social order of Alexandria. He didn't want to march straight in to the Keep yet without first obtaining clearance.
"Excuse me, sir," he addressed the recruiter, "but I have also been led to believe that a tournament is coming up. Do you know for certain where I may enlist myself for such an event?"
His aim was still to show what he was made of. He hadn't walked all the way from the Olympus Imperium just to become another grunt. He needed status to accompany his profit. Drawing the blood of others was the easiest way for him to obtain both. | **Name:** Baleno
**Titles:** N/A
**Affiliation:** Freelance at the moment.
**Age:** 26
**Birthplace:** Olympus Imperium
**Origin:** Othello
**Gender:** Male
**Race:** Human
**Appearance:** Standing an inch above six feet, Baleno is an impressively tall man with a compact build. Of half Alkhebulan and Imperium heritage, he is significantly darker than his mother's fair complexion and is only a couple shades lighter than his swarthy father. His skin is a smooth ochre, a medium brown pigmentation that edges only a smidgen closer to the light variety. The genetics of his father are clearly prevalent over those of his mother. From Othello he also inherited curly black hair. Because he spends most of his time traveling, Baleno tends to neglect it and has grown it into a unkempt mid-length afro. Perhaps the only noticeable trait his mother gave him was her eye shape. While his father's were small and close set, supporting his stern gaze, his mother's were large and upturned. He did not inherit their green color and his irises are instead dark brown like his fathers. Baleno has a square shaped face lined with a thinly trimmed goatee.
Not a fan of spending his hard earned money on trivial objects such as flashy clothes, Baleno frequently dresses in modest attire. His usual outfit comprises of brown trousers, black boots, and a blue long-sleeved shirt. Occasionally he wears a black cloak, particularly when the temperatures are cold. He keeps his sword equipped to his right hip. Covering his arms are a pair of metal gauntlets which serve as his armor of choice.
**Occupation:** Sellsword
**Resources:**
- _Sword_: Besides the clothes on his back and the few coin he has managed to procure, Baleno's sword is his only true possession as well as his lifeline. His current one, an old ( with a withered blade, is not his first. While fighting at the Colosseum as a novice he went through plenty that he broke during combat. He was allowed to keep his last sword as a reward for surviving.
**Skills:**
- _Swordsmanship Practitioner_: While he attempted to teach himself how to wield a weapon as a teen, that training ultimately amounted to nothing. It wasn't until he was forced to fight at the Colosseum that he truly attained any apitude for the sword. Baleno was given his first blade along with some light armor and told to wing it. Faced with a new threat on a daily basis, he at first swung his sword around mindlessly with very little success. He began to obtain meaningful experience after sparring against other gladiators. Taking a few minor wounds in the process, he memorized some of their techniques through repetition and interwove them into his own fighting style. Presently, Baleno is not strong enough to be considered neither an expert nor a master. He is talented enough to hold his own against another capable swordsman and can handle weak opponents such as bandit grunts with ease. If he were to engage a higher tier opponent he would undoubtedly struggle. At best his skill level can be described as intermediate and at worst average. He has never had any professional training which is evidenced by his erratic movement during battle. He is very aggressive and quick with his strikes and they can be improperly coordinated, leaving him open for attack if he isn't careful.
**Personality:** Baleno is a man whose heart has been hardened by his experiences. As a child he was like any other. His innocent outlook put a veil over him and prevented him from seeing the truth surrounding his own being. He paid very little attention to the physical differences between himself and the man and woman he believed were his parents. The raised eyebrows of his neighbors did not bother him until they started blatantly asking questions about his origin. It was only when he realized that not everyone was favorable of presence did Baleno become aware that he was a pariah even to his own family. He manifested a complex about himself and determined that he was the problem and not those who thought ill of him. Fortunately, the adoration of his adoptive parents withdrew him from his sorrows before it was too late. But, he was branded with negative impressions that would seep cynicism into him. He became withdrawn from his village's community and lost trust for them. In response, the people of the village increased their disdain for him which he accepted as a means of justifying his coldness.
A life of mercenary work has made Baleno less honorable than most. Money has ascended to a core priority of his and he will gladly slay almost anyone he is hired to if he is to be paid enough. His loyalty can also be brought or sold. If he can get a sufficient amount of gain out of lending his services to someone, he will do so without inquiring about specifics. He will work with anyone to survive and no one to fall. Also, he will appease anyone who he could gain from and disregard those who have nothing to offer. That isn't to say he won't help a person in dire need. He might if he assesses the risk to his own safety as minimal. For the sake of profit he doesn't like to mix business with pleasure nor does he prefer to befriend his clients. Whatever honor that still remains within Baleno restricts him from committing outright betrayal to those who he has formed a personal connection with. Although he may take actions that may not be morally correct, his conscious is alive and well. He is able to come to terms with his wrongs and carries the weight of his guilt as punishment. Because he is willing to hold onto his guilt, he isn't likely to make any apologies for his offenses.
Socially Baleno is a soft spoken man who tries to pick his words wisely. He isn't very expressive, preferring to keep his internal thoughts closed off but will communicate as needed. He prefers his conversations to be terse and straight to the point. He is impatient, especially when it comes to payments, and greatly values his time. This behavior stems back to his childhood during which he felt that he could seldom trust others. In constant fear that whatever information he does release may be used against him, he carefully inspects his associates before sharing anything personal. He likes to keep a small circle of people whom he can consider close. Even he who is not the friendliest person knows that one cannot prosper without any allies. When selecting his comrades, he tends to prefer those who are weaker. This is so he can issue a degree of control and put them back in place if they get out of line. While initially he only looks at his acquired subordinates as tools for his own benefit, he is prone to develop value towards them if they prove worthy.
**Biography:** Unbeknownst to Baleno, he was conceived as the illegitimate child of Moorish general Othello and his lover Desdemona. To conceal their relationship, Desdemona made arrangements to be rid of him shortly after his birth. It was then decided that she and Othello would marry to compensate for the procreation that resulted in the child. Desdemona gave Baleno to a common man and his wife who could not bare children. They raised him as their own and his early days were spent residing in the Olympian Imperium countryside. He realized that he was not the couples biological son by age eight, his darker complexion being a dead give away. He was a rare sight within village and was often ostracized by his peers. Although he loved his adoptive parents, Baleno harbored a desire to learn about his biological parents and why they weren't raising him instead. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the facts, it was obvious that his village would never accept him. He figured it best to set out on his own when he grew older and discover his roots.
Social conflicts put aside, Baleno's upbringing was otherwise quaint. He received a sufficient role model in the form of his foster father and his mother was kind to him. Their impression of Baleno was that of a blessing. While he was in their household he was well behaved and got into minimal trouble when under their supervision. However, he was known for getting into rumbles with the other boys within the village who picked on him. There was one in particular with whom he had a fierce rivalry. Kaeso, because of a girl who they both allegedly liked, was very competitive with Baleno and frequently challenged him. They fought a lot and that was how Baleno discovered his innate combat potential. Wanting to be better than his rival, he began solo training in swordsmanship using wood as a substitute for an actual blade. Fearing that he would fall behind to Baleno, Kaeso concocted a scheme to get him out of the village so he wouldn't surpass him.
The plan was simple but it was enough of an excuse for the village to drive away Baleno who they considered an aberrant among them. Kaeso disguised himself as a wolf using trickery and crept towards the village livestock. As Baleno and his family were shepherds trusted with safeguarding livestock, he managed to deceive Baleno into believing that a wolf was attempting to feast upon the livestock. This resulted in Baleno "crying wolf" on multiple occasions and losing the trust of the villagers. To finish his scheme, Kaeso led a real wolf towards the livestock and allowed it to feast. When the villagers discovered the wolf, Baleno was blamed for his negligence and ousted despite his parents pleas on his behalf.
After being exiled, Baleno traveled around performing odd jobs to survive. Not yet a skilled fighter, he found himself taking menial tasks in neighboring villages. The work he found was temporary and scarce. Starvation was plenty a problem during periods when he could not find employment. Becoming desperate, he resorted to petty theft. Using his job search as a farce, he would enter shops just to case them before later returning to make his plunder. It wouldn't be long before he was caught. His skills at thievery were mediocre and his heists poorly executed. One faithful day, in a bustling coastal city, Baleno made the dreadful mistake of attempting a pickpocket. His potential victim was a wealthy aristocrat who swiftly had him arrested. However, instead of a death sentence for his crime, Baleno was subjected to an equally horrific fate. He was sent to the Colosseum to partake in gladiator games.
Marked for death should he lose a match, Baleno quickly learned how to at least endure the onslaught of beasts he was pit against. He became infamous for surviving out of sheer luck, his impulsive use of deception allowing him to win numerous battles of attrition. Crowds flocked just to see how long it would take for him to be slain and were sorely disappointed. He gradually adapted to the hostility of the Colosseum and his swordsmanship proficiency increased. Eventually, he earned a pardon for his theft and was released from life as a gladiator. Any fame he acquired subsided well before that, the Colosseum's patrons having lost interest in him when he became capable of fighting properly. Having picked up a skill that was much desired in a turbulent land such as the Europa continent, he took to mercenary work. While in some regards it wasn't anymore honest than stealing, at least he was finally earning a consistent income.
Regardless of how far he traveled there was one concern that never stopped nagging Baleno. Having never known his real parents, he always felt as if there was a piece of him missing. It didn't help that he was forbidden from returning home and visiting the man and woman who raised him - the only people he knew capable of answering his questions. In the past whenever he brought up the matter of his biological parents he was brushed aside and written off as paranoid. Now free as a vagabond, he resumed his quest to solve the mystery once and for all. Derailed from his objective by the need to fight for money, he ended up sidetracked into the Empire of Europa in hopes of finding better opportunities.
**Note:**
- He was seventeen when he left home and was sent to the Colosseum roughly a year later.
- He fought as a gladiator for five years, being freed at the age of twenty-three.
- His current primary short term goal is to find a replacement sword. He is also willing to enlist in the army of a lord.
- His long term goals are to uncover the truth about his parents, come to terms with his existence, and to find a place where he belongs.
- He was known as "the Boy Who Cried Wolf" within his village prior to being exiled. |
8,260 | 223 | 9 | 1,343 | 4,697 | A cold chill on his shoulder was nothing to a man who feels nothing but the icy grip of death constantly, though the chill was familiar. The Snow Queen was a frequent of Mab's "parties" and often seen consorting with her and the upper class of Winter Court. Viona apparently only recognized the champion as the champion, and not as someone she had met before. Fortunate, that means that he won't have to converse with her in the future. Unless some dire circumstance were to befall her or her posse.
Viona is quite evidently the sort who enjoys manipulating people through clever wordplay, and Nikolai is quite aware of this sort of manipulation. As she attempted to ensnare his interests it was becoming abundantly clear that she at least knew how Nikolai felt about the lesser races. However, she was apparently unaware of his views on senseless violence. This would have visibly agitated the headless man, if his face was visible. Which it is not, as he is headless.
"I am certain that your frigid escort serves as sufficient protection. Unless you believe he is some mere sprite, without the bite and vigor to engage in single combat." The head inside of his case smirked, the chain covering hid the emotion from the Snow Queen. "And that would be unseamly rude to your companion, wouldn't it, Lady Viona? You wouldn't want to offend him, to be sure." | Name: Sir Nikolai Pelletier
Titles: Emissary and Champion of the Winter Court
Affiliation: Highborn to the Winter Court, born into a lower family of Nobility. His position of nobility was raised upon his revival from the dead.
Gender: Male
Age: 89 (26 years alive, 56 years dead, 7 years undead.)
Birthplace: Cannala
Origin: The tale of the Dullahan from Irish Folklore, also known as the Headless Rider.
Race: Undead Fae
Appearance: (A Picture will come soon enough, but for now, a detailed description.) Nikolai Pelletier is an above average man in height, weight, and build. He has no remarkable traits such as beautiful eyes, golden locks of hair, or strange skin color. Except for one minor detail. Nikolai has no head. Well, not on his shoulders anyway. He carries his head on his waist in a glass case. The case is ornately designed to ensure that his head doesn't look ugly while he totes it about. The trim around it is made of polished brass with silver inlay. The portion of his neck that is severed has a silk cloth laid across it and is tied in place by gold lace. The case is attached to his waist by a chain of steel, coated in silver to give it a more high class look. When he truly wishes to hide his undead-ness, he will cover the case in a square of chainmail. This hides his head from those around him.
His body is reasonably fit, about as fit as you would expect a soldier to be. Where his neck would connect to his head there is another piece of silk held in place by a length of gold lace, this keeps him from showing his insides to those that he converses with. It makes diplomacy a bit easier. His skin is a bit pale, but nothing unnatural.
Adorning his form is a suit of classy armor, the armor of nobility of course. It is a suit of hybrid mail with a mix of chain and plate to give a full range of protection. It is made from damascus steel, forged in a crucible and then hammered across a mold of his body. The suit was forged specifically for him, making his movements significantly more natural while wearing it. To make discussion with others even easier, he had a special helmet forged. This helmet attaches to his back and chest, rather than his shoulders. This allows him to turn the helmet to substitute natural movement. It makes him more alive than he really is.
His head is a normal humanoid head, though with several fae traits. (Which is understood, as he is a fae, not a human.) His head is rather angular with a pointed jawline. His eyes are closed, though his eye color is hazel. The hair on his head is relatively short and well kept, his hair color is dark brown. His nose is a bit long but not unattractively large. His ears are pointed at the top and his lobes are a bit long.
Nikolai himself stands at 6'7" and weighs 212 lbs.
Occupation: A diplomat from the Winter Court, serving as Queen Mab's personal champion for duels and to accompany her to potentionally dangerous events.
Resources:
- Hand Forged Armor: A suit of armor specially forged for him, ordered by Queen Mab herself to be made. It is a simple suit of armor that can be concealed under clothing or worn openly.
- Cavalry Sabre: A three foot long blade with a sizeable crossguard, it is a simple and elegantly curved blade. Perfectly suited for combat on the ground and on horseback. Made from steel, its handle is made from yew and is coated in cattle hide.
- Combat Lance: Unlike the lances seen in jousting competitions, this lance is designed for true mounted combat. It is a deadly sharp length of metal with a cross shaped tip, it is brutally efficient at punching holes in his foes. It is an oak lance, measuring seven feet long from tip to pommel. The tip is made from steel, stone sharpened and adding another seven inches to the weapon. It is unweildy when not on horseback.
- Reasonable wealth: His social status allows him to earn money passively, though his job is high risk, it actually doesn't involve much more than him riding about on his horse and occasionally mounted combat. He constantly has money to pay for room and board, food, and the like. It is a good living, albeit a simple one.
- Pheidippides: Nikolai's trusty horse. A massive war horse, standing at 24 hands.(8 feet tall.) This horse is a monstrous stallion, towering over man, elf, and fae alike. Its coat is charoal and mottled with white splotches, its mane is a deep black with a beautiful gloss. Its eyes are intense, shining and hazel like his rider's own. Pheidippides is as high bred as you can get when it comes to horses. He can haul a four horse cart on his own, able to pull three tons of weight behind himself.
Pheidippides is a 228 stone horse. (3,000 lbs.) Tremendously strong and fiercely loyal, Pheidippides refuses any rider but Nikolai. Bucking them off with an intensity unmatched by lesser horses. Pheidippides is not the fastest horse in the world by any stretch, but he is significantly faster than any human. Able to gallop at 38 mph, canter at 15 mph, trot at 10, and walk at 5. Pheidippides has great stamina, most horses can only gallop for short bursts. He, however, can gallop for three solid hours before even showing signs of exhaustion.
However, Pheidippides's greatest shortcoming is his own size. Pheidippedes has joint problems due to his weight, extended periods of riding without rest can leave him exhausted and worthless for riding. His hooves must be filed daily, otherwise they turn rough and painful for him.
Skills:
- Diplomat: As the emissary from the Winter Court he is required to be skilled in diplomatic ventures. His specialties are interrogation, intimidation, and parties.
- Rider: What? He's a headless horseman. He's skilled at riding horses.
- Soldier: Upon being raised from the dead, post him learning of his killer's death, Nikolai joined the military and swiftly jumped through ranks. Of course later being promoted to Champion and Emissary through a long series of events that would take a while to record.
Personality: Nikolai is a cynic by trade and a racist by hobby, as a nobleman of the Fae-kind he holds himself in a much higher standing than other 'lesser' races. Humans, elves, and other kinds are lesser to Fae in his eyes. However, he is a professional, and never lets his personal view of others obscure his thoughts. Outside of his duties he is still an uptight and generally unpleasant person to be around.
Biography: The tale of the Dullahan isn't a story with a "Long long ago." or a "And they lived happily ever after." It's simply a tale of a man who lost his head in an argument, and then lost his head in the following fight. With death fresh on his collar and fury fresh on his lips, he was not so bound to the grave as normal men would be. The horseman rose from the grave to seek vengeance, but he was too late. Now he roams the earth, seeking purpose in mortal lands as one no longer among the living. |
8,261 | 224 | 0 | 58 | 100 | Inner Demons
Episode 1: Genesis v2.0
Envy felt a stinging sensation as the cocoon of light surrounding her faded away. She opened her eyes to see herself in a building. What appeared to be rather comfortable chair as well as a glass table surrounded her. A peculiar black screen hung from a wall.
She rubbed her eyes, confusedly. Her brain was in deep conflict right now. Thoughts were coming back to her...God saying something about humans...that they would have to live with them...the feeling of chains on her wrists...
She looked down at her wrists to see if there were chains, only to realize that in her previous forms her skin was not this curious peach complexion. And she had claws. What had happened?
Then it all came back to her. God telling them they would have to live among human adolescents. They would have to attend 'school', whatever that was, and perform the human necessities. According to the bumbling fool, humans had to eat and sleep, or they would die. She groaned to herself. Why was this, of all things, their punishment? She would have preferred anything.
Then, one by one, her subordinates began to appear. Greed, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust...wait, no Pride? Was it possible they were free?
Nope, Pride was next. Ah, a demon could dream.
She looked at her demon kin, watching them come to their senses. No doubt they were as confused as she was. After giving them a moment, she decided she would speak.
"I guess we're stuck here." | Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Seen above. Rosalyn, or Envy, stands at 5'7", which is a respectable height for a girl. She wishes she could be taller, but there isn't a helluva ton she can do in that department. She has long teal hair, which she likes to keep into two pigtails. She also has two teal eyes. Apparently, this is all normal because anime world? Well-built, slightly muscular, with slight curves. She weights 133 pounds, which puts her between a small and medium build.
Personality: Rosalyn is envy, and thus displays envy. Whenever somebody is better than her, she wants to top them. Overcompetitive might be able to describe this- she always wants to be the best and doesn't like to take breaks. Some of these things, like academics or sports, might be change-able (just examples), but she often desires the unobtainable, such as beauty.
Rosalyn is very critical, and while she doesn't necessarily enjoy putting people down (OK, just a little) she finds no fault in doing so. Those are the people beneath her. The people above her? Well, you should be scared. Rosalyn is also vindictive and can hold a grudge for a surprisingly long time. You don't want to get on her bad side.
Her good side? Envy is firmly dedicated to her cause. She's loyal to those she trusts and protective of those she's befriended. Maybe tsundere?
She would get along better with Greed and Gluttony, but would be at arms with Sloth, Pride, and Lust (eeerrgh good looks.)
Magic Powers:
Serpent Queen
Snakes are the animal of envy, and as such can conjure snakes out of thin air and control them. She can also Medusa shit up and turn her hair into snakes, but she doesn't.
Curse
Envy can put a curse on a person. From hence on, everything will go wrong to that person. Basically unluckiness curse. Lasts until Envy says so or she runs out of juice.
Power Steal
By focusing, Envy can take one of the powers from another Demon/magical being and use it for her own for 24 hours. Could be useful. You never know.
Likes:
- Being #1
- Make-up
- Cooking (she'll admit, this is one human habit she enjoys)
- Manga (b-back off, baka)
- Destroying her opponents
- Victory, overall
Dislikes:
- Pride, the Demon
- Laziness
- Humans that are annoying to her but don't know what she really is
- Pride, the Demon
- God
- Humans that worship God. There's only one real deal around
- Pride, the Demon (if not enunciated yet)
Extra: Can't think of anything right now tbh |
8,262 | 224 | 1 | 2,033 | 9,317 | ~Lucia~
A stinging pain. A searing, blinding light surrounding her. Hah, nothing compared to their own radiance. Still, it made them uncomfortable. What had even happened? They couldn't recall. Not entirely. Hmm...and what was with this annoyance of pain? Something was bothering them, but they couldn't place their finger on it. Then the light faded, leaving them in a fairly hideous looking room. Hah, this was a building for commoners. Why of all things were they here? This place's stench felt difficult to even breathe in. As she awoke from her groggy state, memories of what exactly had happened returned.
The first emotion she felt was pure, absolute, rage. The sort of rage that could rival that of Wrath's own. Where were her luxurious feathers at? Her radiant weaponry? The legions of demons at her command? Those that knew who their better was and bowed to her, begged her just to be in her presence? Not that her rage displayed on her face, no. Emotions were an impurity. Something she didn't have. As the other Cardinal Sins began showing themselves and waking, she walked over to an empty chair, claiming it before any of the others could.
It was her chair, after all. Everything belonged to pride.
Soon, the rage was quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and her usual bravado. A predatory smirk formed on her features as she waited for her brethren to fully wake themselves. God would regret this decision to send them to live among humans. She would see to that, that his own arrogance would be his downfall. That was her job, after all. To tempt mortals with their own pride. To bring out their best in them. Build them and their confidence up...only to watch them spectacularly fall at the height of their own hubris.
God was no different.
"I guess we're stuck here."
The worms voice was the first to break the silence. How naive. Unlike Envy who didn't think beyond their own jealousy, Pride had already started deciding what it would do. It may have been shoved into the unsightly form of a human, had her luxurious wings stripped, and her domain burned and pillaged, but she was Pride. She was perfection embodied. She wasn't going to let such a minor setback stop her.
"Stuck here?" She smirked, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair she had claimed as her throne, resting her head upon her hand and crossing her legs. "No, my envious little friend...we've just been given the opportunity of the lifetime by that arrogant fool." Pride chuckled, the confident smirk turning into a cruel grin. "He may have stripped from us our glorious forms and the majority of our powers...but stuck here? Not at all..."
Pride was always a scheming one. Always had a plan...and they had seemingly completely free access to earth and humans now.
How ever so delicious. Almost as delicious as an Apple.
"Unless you're not bright enough to use that head of yours to understand what this entire thing means? But I suppose I wouldn't expect Envy to be smarter than the average mongrel, would I?" | "Ha...How far I have fallen to subject myself to living among these cockroaches. Heh...might as well enjoy this gift, oh merciful God. I shall make sure to repay this insult...a hundred fold, soon."
Demon Name:
Pride
Adopted Human Name:
Lucia Beatrice Megalos
Physical Age:
17
Chosen Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Stark white hair, with violet eyes and standing at a fairly tall five foot eight Pride likes to think she is the embodiment of physical perfection. While she doesn't have the endowments of lust to be certain, there is such a thing of being overly endowed to crude, imperfect levels. She has a well-built build, with soft curves and most people tend to find her fairly alluring and difficult to tear their eyes away from.
Personality:
Pride. Hubris. A sin even the best men can commit without even knowing it. Lucia embodies this in quite a number of different ways, as the physical embodiment of the sin of Pride. Lucia thinks very highly of herself, as one might expect. She believes that she is absolutely the best at everything. Academics, sports, physical ability, appearance, intelligence, video games, writing everything. While the truth may be somewhat less than true, it is known she always, always strives towards perfection.
She regards others around her with varying levels of acknowledgement and disregard. At times, she doesn't even seem to notice the little people, as if to her they don't even exist. This treatment also extends to her demonic brethren of any kind. Nothing more than tools to be used in accomplishment of some goal - that is what everyone is to her. She loathes weakness of any kind, especially in herself and her supposed allies.
She leads, because she thinks she is deserving of it and is mercilessly cruel to those who question her authority. Indeed, she loves putting down others, especially those who stand against her.
However, like the nature of Pride itself, she can be rather two-faced. Pride in small doses, can be a good thing. Taking pride in ones work is after all, not a sin so long as one does not let it cloud their judgement. It's an insidious sin that one may not even realize they're falling for until its too late. She's also not a complete fool when it comes to dealing with others, especially humans. When in public or dealing with other mortals, her nature and dealings with humans is much more measured. To most humans, she'll come off as simply extremely confident if somewhat icy and difficult to approach...but otherwise perfectly friendly. Sometimes encouraging, and even protecting of them...nurturing that pride of theirs. She comes off as very...Himedere, in nature most of the time.
In terms of redeeming qualities, Lucia Is very confident. Confidence, even when facing situations that are not favorable can go a long way to making one simply power through it. She is dedicated, determined, and will follow through with any course of action she chooses even if she ends up getting hurt in the process. Surprisingly those that are her allies and subordinates, she takes very good care of as long as they are loyal and know their place. Insulting them, insults and disrespects her by extension. She also is the demon most likely to keep her word...if you can get her to agree to something.
As for her demonic brethren....she dislikes the lot of them.
Gluttony is too gluttonous. Unsightly fat pig. Thinks of nothing beyond their stomach.
Greed wants what he can not have, that isn't rightly theirs. Chase entire fortunes and covetous of Prides own power. Pathetic.
Lust is just a mindless slut. Physical relations with other beings? Pathetic whore.
Sloth is a lazy, unmotivated, fool lacking vision. Doesn't have the necessary vision of a better world Pride has. Their world
Envy is a pathetic worm. Worse than a snake, even. A worm wriggling about in the muck, crying and whining about what it lacks and will never have.
Wrath is nothing more than a rabid mongrel deserving to be put down. Though a rabid mongrel does have its uses, she supposes....
That said, she tolerates them. They have their uses, but she isn't afraid of telling them what she thinks of them.
Magic Powers:
Unlike what one might expect, Pride itself is not a directly combative force. Oh certainly, as a demon she is vastly more powerful than humans are. However, compared to someone like say, Wrath or Envy, Pride takes a much more restrained approach to violence. Indeed, it even seems to shy away from it...at least, as far as getting itself involved goes. It prefers to work through agents, keeping its hands clean until just the right moment. She is a commander. A leader. Not a trooper or fighter. A tactician.
However, for all her 'perfection' she lacks many other things that makes demons powerful. Most notably, she has no truly fancy magics.
Lord of Hubris: Bearer of Light:
Ever so radiant, the bringer of Light. So profanely alluring. A false god. Pride, is charismatic. Almost blindingly so. It is appealing. It is a thing that everyone is capable of. This makes her words seem much more alluring. In effect, those that hear her words will be more motivated to do as she desires. The sun itself seems to always be on her side, lighting their path forwards.
Alternatively, she speaks with such a domineering and frightening tone that it threatens to paralyze those that listen with fear, or make them flee in terror, the radiance blinding them. Which effect is felt by people, depends entirely on if they are an ally or not. Even high level angelic beings would have trouble shrugging this off entirely.
She can pacify entire rooms with her voice alone, and most wouldn't dare to stand against her. Anything not a mindless entity would be affected by this in some fashion.
To put simply, this is either used as a motivational to get people to agree with her, or to scare them into submission.
Prides Perfection:
Perfect body, able to move mountains. Perfect mind, able to think of the perfect solution to a problem, seemingly able to process information faster than most humans are capable of. Perfect everything. Pride, is perfect. In essence, Pride is perfect. She is at the peak of physical strength, agility, and ability, and while she perhaps may not be as clearly physically strong as a raging wrath or her other brethren...compared to humans? She could kill them with a single hand. She is agile, fast, and strong, capable of easily lifting tons of weight and pulling of extreme feats of acrobatics.
However, this has been restricted to what could be considered peak human levels for someone of her apparent age, as far as her current appearance goes meaning she is not as strong as any other human at the moment.
Rule of Pride:
This human form, is by far her normal form. Her original, radiant, form was stripped from her by god when she was forced into this silly human body. Pathetic. Pathetic. Infuriating. That damn arrogant god! She refuses! She rejects him with her entire being as well as these shackles. She is a proud being, and will suffer no insult as to be shoved into a form more fit for mere maggots, writhing in the mud to be fodder for the birds! However, try as she might she can not break this form.
She is however, able to regain some of her lost radiance stripped from her.
Wings full of blackened feathers sprout from her back in a flash of brilliant white. She is able to summon multiples of her favored weapon, a double pronged spear - a bident. The weapons are ethereal constructs, seemingly made of pure light and she is able to manipulate them as ranged javelins or wield one as an effective melee weapon. She can summon around ten different ones at a time, and is able to fire them at foes from a distance.
Likes:
- sweets
- Grapes
- Apples
- Power
- Being in charge
- Being called 'Mistress'
- Military uniforms
- The color of Pride, Purple.
Dislikes:
-God (arrogant fool)
-Weakness
-Carelessness
-Recklessness
-Humans
-Demons
-Things with more power than she.
-everything that isn't herself
Extra:
- Always wears thin gloves in public, as if the human world is too filthy for her to touch.
- Surprisingly, she likes singing and is fairly good at it. Probably because she likes hearing her own voice. |
8,263 | 224 | 2 | 1,085 | 511 | A cool sensation across the skin was the first thing Wrath noticed. Quite a strange feeling unlike the hell flames he was accustomed to. He was sitting, but it didn't feel like his throne. Not nearly enough blood on it. He felt light, and somehow small. Finally, the mighty emperor of rage peeled open his eyes, expecting to gaze upon the obsidian halls within the inner sanctums of his infernal citadel. His vision was blurry. He could only see blobs of meshed color and dingy light. Vision slowly returned to him, the sight of the strange room coming into view. He rose his hand to try and wipe the fuzz from his gaze when suddenly he froze. This wasn't his hand. Not nearly enough blood on it.
"Wh..wha..what is this-?!"
Wrath's scarlet eyes widened in disbelief as he clasped his mouth. What should have been the bellowing snarl of a fearsome hell knight from the deepest bowels of perdition instead sounded mousy by comparison. He thought for a moment, sweat beading down the side of his face and off his chin. Wrath searched his mind, grasping for recollections of what happened to him, but he never pays enough attention to anything to even begin to remember something like that. Then there was a brief moment of cognizance. Something that didn't come to the brutish demon often. His hands, his voice, the lack of blood everywhere. It all seemed almost like he was...
"H-human!? I-I-I'm...HUMAN?!" A loud wooden clatter of sound rang out through the room as Wrath jumped to his feet, shoving the chair out from beneath him and against the wall. "Th..this is madness...some shitty joke. No...this isn't funny..." A loud clenching sound wrung out of Wrath's hands as he clenched his fists in rage. "...This..." A droplet of blood trickled out of his grip, cascading to the ground. "THIS!..."
Suddenly a strange but somehow familiar voice interrupted Wrath's vengeful thoughts, catching him off guard and causing him to flinch away slightly. It was a little green haired human girl. She gave him pause. This presence wasn't human. "Wait..." He knew this feeling. She was a demon. Not just any demon either. He was used to the presence of most common demons by now. This one was like him in some way. Then he figured it out, though likely much later than anyone else would in the same situation. "Envy...is that you in that little sack of meat?" Suddenly, Wrath's eyes widened again as his slow mind caught up to reality. "Wait! What did you just say?" A loud grinding metallic creak whined out through the room as the confused and now angering demon pushed the glass table aside and moved toward Envy. "You just said something about being stuck here...Was this your doing you jealous wretch?! You seek to take over my sanctum don't you!?"
Another voice perked up. One with a similar sense of familiarity as Envy. Wrath halted his advance, though he only moved a couple feet, turning his attention toward the white haired girl as she spoke. "Opportunity of the lifetime...?" Through his growing annoyance and confusion, a form of selective hearing overtook wrath. "...Arrogant fool?" His brow furrowed as his anger continued to translate the girls worlds. "Average mongrel!?" A loud slam shook the room accompanied by the hiss of fracturing glass as Wrath struck the table. "I recognize that sharp tongue and filthy smug aura anywhere! So then it was you Pride?!" Wrath grit his teeth, expecting as much from such an entity as the demon of pride. He seemed to struggle with his thoughts, as a glimpse of a memory leaked into his mind. "I think...I remember...you....you were there! You did this didn't you?!" The walls trembled, shaken by the impact of the hurtling glass table. Shattered glass spilled across the floor as the empty metal table frame fell into a contorted metal heap, tossed across the room in a rage like a piece of cardboard. "I don't care what form you take, or what form you force on me, I'll still grind all you miserable heaps of flesh into pulp and sinew where you stand!" | ◥Alastor◤
Demon of Wrath - Executioner of Hell
The devil whispered to me "you are not strong enough to withstand this storm." I whispered back; "I am the storm..."
Name - Alastor Bartholomew A.K.A "oh god no"
Demon - Wrath
Age - 18
Gender - Male
Height - 6'10"
Weight - 185.5lbs
Personality - In spite of being the embodiment of rage, Alastor is actually a deceptively pleasant guy. As long as he is left to his own means, he can even seem like a friendly individual. Though he tends to be a meathead and a rebel, he's actually one of the more easy going Sins. He jokes around and likes to roughhouse, pulling pranks and causing mischief with his gang of "friends;" a small group of humans who thinks he's "cool." Though he spends most of his time daydreaming in class or ditching to do random things, he does enjoy the competition involved in sports and physical education. However his temper is quite short, and when faced with authority or disagreement, he can go off like a stick of dynamite. His seemingly calm attitude can and will quickly become a enraged rampage, only ending when he either gets what he wants, or forgets why he was upset. He never backs down from a fight and has no qualms about starting them.
Other than his tantrum prone disposition, Alastor is known for being somewhat ditzy, rash, and at times outspoken. He rarely takes things seriously, mostly cause he doesn't like trying to understand things. He has quite an appetite, though nowhere near certain other gluttonous demons. When he isn't in a rage, pulling pranks, or zoning out, Alastor listens to or plays music, typically punk or grunge rock. If he isn't in or around school, Alastor spends his free time and weekends out on the town hopping from club to party, either causing trouble, getting into trouble, or drinking himself into a jolly stupor. More often than not, it's all three.
Appearance - Fair skin, pointed teeth, slightly unkempt long dark red hair that falls about an inch above his shoulders usually worn in a halfhearted ponytail, crimson eyes similar in hue to his hair, slender athletic build in proportion to his height. Alastor prefers to wear darker colors, often accentuated by spiked or studded accessories, chucks or boots, and leather jackets or coats. During the summer, he usually sports ragged cut off jeans torn around the hinges, dark button down t-shirts or wife beaters, and sandals. On occasion, one might find him in different types of athletic attire as he is part of multiple after school sports clubs.
Powers
Rend - Exerting his might, Wrath generates massive vibrations and shock waves with his motions, which can travel though virtually any medium, including the ground, water, air, and flesh. Fueled and empowered by his rage, in the darkest of times these tremors have grown to split the earth, cause tsunamis, waken volcanoes, and reduce buildings to rubble. Wrath's natural physical capabilities are no greater than any of the other demon. However when he infuses these abilities with his attacks, his raw strength becomes matched only by the actual raw strength of Gluttony.
Acrimonious Dogma - Wrath is the emperor of rage, feeding off the anger and hate in mortal hearts, commanding those with weak wills who feel any form of animosity in his presence. Alternatively, he can extract rage from individuals and manifest it as demonic and deformed doppelgangers with strength and size relative to the amount of anger felt by the one they were extracted from.
Executioners Decree - Wrath partially regains his true demon form, taking on the appearance of a frightening winged avatar of war and vengeance, sporting hellish armor and weapons resembling those he used as the executioner of hell. It takes a lot of rage fueled energy to channel this form and usually leaves Wrath in a partial coma.
Likes - Competition, rebellions music, practical jokes, fist fighting, to crush his enemies, see them driven before him, and to hear the lamentations of their women.
Dislikes - Authority, tough guys, liars, traitors, weak winded individuals, and math.
Extras
Theme
◥Executioners Decree Theme◤
◥◤ |
8,264 | 224 | 3 | 707 | 516 | A warm comforting light enveloped the demon of Greed, far different from the boiling hot darkness of hell. It was calming, almost euphoric, but was almost instantly replaced with dark unconsciousness. After that, a dreamless black dominated Greed for what felt like an eternity, before feeling returned - a cold sensation against his back. Greed slowly, and with great effort, managed to rouse himself to consciousness. At first, everything was strange - Greed had awoken to see he was in a completely foreign looking room, most likely human in origin, which had a chair and glass table directly in front of him. Some of the other sins had already awoken, and Envy decided to speak up first. Immediately following was Pride, who of course decided to claim the chair... Greed could barely even concentrate on what she said as he stared at the chair, a very comfortable looking objects that almost spoke out to him... Greed shook his head to clear the thought. He wasn't going to start a fight over a stupid chair - he was smart. Greed decided to wait for the others to stop caring, then he would snatch up the seat and take it to one of the rooms in this human domicile...
"Unless you're not bright enough to use that head of yours to understand what this entire thing means? But I suppose I wouldn't expect Envy to be smarter than the average mongrel, would I?"
An insult towards the other demons would normally cause Greed to grow very angry, but when the insults were escaping Pride's lips, he felt not even the smallest twinge of surprise or rage. Pride was always like this, nothing new. Instead, Greed decided to rise u-
...
Greed noticed his hand, completely barren of black fur, claws, and jewelry. Instead, it was a fair white, and was soft to the touch. Greed had assumed the worst, but Wrath's rantings and the appearance's of his companions was all the proof he needed. They were human now...
Then again, Greed didn't really care that much. He wasn't very fond of his demonic form, and who knows, maybe the stupid humans will think he's just your average guy! Then he'd be able to make deals with more people than those that liked to make contracts with a goat man. Greed held out his hand and attempted to call a mirror from his innumerable treasures to check his face - but nothing came. Several more attempts were made, each becoming more frantic, until a cold sweat covered Greed's body. He could tell his powers were still there - he could feel them, and he felt the familiar pulling sensation that Materialistic caused whenever he used it. Greed knew that he had at least one mirror in his treasury, which only meant one thing...
He had lost the fortune he spent thousands of years gathering. An incredible sense of sadness permeated his being, sucking the joy from his body like a black hole. All the weapons, all the slaves, all the shining things... gone. Greed was stuck in this stupor for several seconds, until he finally started registering that Wrath was yelling something loudly. Next thing Greed new, a table flew by his head, nearly slamming into the black object attached to the wall. It bent horribly, glass shattering everywhere and scattering across the floor. While shuddering from the impact, Greed heard the voice of Wrath scream out.
"I don't care what form you take, or what form you force on me, I'll still grind all you miserable heaps of flesh into pulp and sinew where you stand!"
This impact seemed to awaken the few demons that were still asleep, and jolted Greed out of his stupor. He had little memory of his interaction with god, and decided that alerting his brethren to the fact that he didn't remember or the fact that he couldn't access his vault were both bad ideas. Additionally, they all seemed pretty hot-headed right now... Greed decided that stopping an argument when Wrath was angry and Pride was... well, in an argument with a person, was a bad idea. Instead, he chose to investigate the black screen in front of him. It was mounted to the wall, and had a sleekness that was very impressive to the demon who lost everything. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in hell, and had several buttons on the sides. Careful to avoid the glass lining the floor from the demonic tantrum happening behind him, Greed called out to the demons behind him, doing his best to keep his voice stable. The loss of his possesions caused him to be on the verge of tears.
"Not to be rude and interrupt you guys, but what the hell is this black thing?"
Greed, now looking into the dark screen, could see his now human facial features. He was by no means ugly, by human standards he was even somewhat attractive. But compared to his old form, he was nowhere near as beautiful as he once was. Of course, even his old form was not as attractive as Lust once was, and he chose not to make himself feel worse by not focusing on his face. He was already poor, he didn't want to look at his lost beauty as well... | "Doesn't matter if I'm in hell or on earth - everyone wants something they don't have. I just give them what they want... For a price."
Demon Name: Greed
Adopted Human Name: Darry Kress
Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Male
Appearance: Greed is a fairly attractive young man that seems to be of German descent, standing at 6'1 and weighing 175 lbs. Like some of the other sins, he has fairly outlandish features - mainly blue hair and eyes. He is fairly muscular, but nothing extremely impressive. To be quite honest, besides the hair and eyes, he really doesn't stand out that much. He prefers to wear formal clothing, and has a particular affinity for suits. His voice is deep and kind, the sort of voice you can get lost in.
Personality: Greed is, without a doubt, the easiest sin to commit. All creatures on earth want more, humans especially so. It's in their nature to amass a fortune, to have more than others. Or, at the very least, that is what Greed believes. Greed embodies the very concept of desire, and as a result, always wants a profit. Unlike gluttony who only concerns themselves with primal 'wants', Greed views himself as more refined. He doesn't care for money as much as you would expect - after all, money is just paper. Of course, he loves money since it can buy things, but he prefers things with concrete value. A dollar's value will fade, but gold has always been valuable... and things with personal or emotional value also entice him. He plans to own everything on earth eventually - every person, place, and thing. But you gotta start small...
Greed's desires shift constantly - he could have worked tirelessly to get a new car, but then immediately grow bored and go after something else that catches his interest. Hell, he may even trade the car in a contract for something he wants. Which brings us to another point - Greed is not possessive of his treasure. He is willing to share with others, and even trade things away. After all, he'll eventually get it back - with interest. The only thing he doesn't do is give freely. Everything has a price, even life itself. If you can't pay it, then you earn none of Greed's sympathy.
Greed respects humans and can understand their value, but just like everything else, he views them as property. He respects them now since they aren't his, and he will respect them when he owns them since he doesn't want to break his toys, but he will never be on the same level as a normal human. Doesn't mean he can't pretend he is though. Greed is amazing at lying, and this combined with his Evil Eye allows him to be very persuasive towards people. He is very good at socializing, most likely because he knows what people want in a friend, and he can be the perfect friend for a time. And then, when one of his friends needs a loan, he'll be right there, willing to make a deal... But even though greed views humans as insignificant, he isn't sociapathic or anything. He doesn't wish harm on other people, and will actually protect a person's life if he can. After all, a life debt is very valuable...
Greed is never satisfied. You could give him everything in the world, and he would just want more. He can trade things now, but his goal is to own everything - where only he has property. Greed is also highly analytical, constantly appraising the value of different choices and possibilities. He hides this with an easy going persona and masks his intellect by playing dumb.
Greed respects the other Demons, and is even willing to help them for cheap. They are the closest thing he has to family, and they are definitely the people he spends the most time with. Of course, he has differing opinions on each of them.
Magic Powers: Greed is one of the sins that has a distinct lack of combat-oriented powers, instead relying on manipulation and support in order to help the other demons. While not as much of a leader as someone like Pride, Greed is easily able to get supplies and, should the need arise, bodies. Greed grows stronger the more he has at his disposal - with nothing, he is virtually powerless, but with enough resources, nearly anything is possible.
Contract:
Greed can form contracts with other people, allowing him to trade things like money, objects, or even people. That's not all, though - nonphysical things can be traded as well, such as ownership, a name, time, or even abilities and skills. Additionally, this contract is magically binding - even if someone sold their house for a nickel while drunk out of their mind, they would hand over the keys without a single complaint. The contract does not need to be written - that's pretty old school in the fast-paced, modern world. A contract could be verbal, or even sent by text message.
Their are a few limitations, however. Both parties are magically bound, meaning Greed must fulfill his own part of the contract. Additionally, a person can't be intimidated or forced into a contract - they must agree to it of their own will. Finally, Greed's power is not as strong as it used to be - he can only make 3 contracts a day, each making him progressively weaker. After making his third contract in a day, his powers are locked, rendering him powerless until he goes to sleep and the next day arrives. Finally, while the contract is magically binding, it only forces a person to obey what they agreed to do. If Greed tricks a person to give him their car, they will, but nothing stops them from destroying it after they hand over the keys. Or punching Greed in the face.
Evil Eye:
Greed is in the hearts of all creatures on earth, big or small. Of course, the Demon of Greed himself would know what people want. With a single glance, Greed can identify the desires of any animal larger than a mouse. While it's not really effective on animals since they all usually want food or sex, this power is very useful against humans. Greed can tell every desire a person has, but must spend time staring at a person to see the desires they care less about. Also allows Greed to hear a person's thoughts whenever they think about something they want (EX: "Wow, I really want that purse!").
Not very many limits on this power. It relies on sight, so being blinded makes Greed unable to use it. Additionally, it can't be turned off, so Greed constantly has to see a person's desires if he looks at them. Can get very overwhelming in crowded spaces.
Materialistic:
Greed is capable of summoning anything he owns. The item being summoned can appear anywhere within 30 feet of Greed, and can include living things. Summoning things takes anywhere between 30 seconds and instantaneously, depending on the size. Things that are too large to be summoned within 30 feet of Greed (Ex: A large boat) cannot be summoned by this power.
Likes:
- Valuable Things
- Talking with People
- Collecting
- Recognition
- Meat, Particularly Beef
- Respect
- Fancy outfits
- The Other Demons
Dislikes:
- Pointless Violence
- Wasting Things
- Charity
- People Who Don't Make Deals
- Rushing Into Things
- Being Cheated
- His Human Name
- Stealing his Things
- Lying to the Demons
Extra:
-Greed does not enjoy his new name. When in the presence of other demons, he will refer to himself as Greed, and will usually introduce himself as Greed to people outside his primary social circles.
-It should be noted, Greed will usually give people what they really want with a contract, and will only ever twist the wording if he is desperate. It's like he says, he "Just wants to give people what they want... For a price".
Wrath - TBA
Sloth / Bel - Greed enjoys Sloth's company, if only because it allows him a little quiet time. Sloth's lazy nature is a good compliment towards someone like Greed who is willing to do anything to get what he wants, and his telekinetic abilities are sure to come in handy.
Pride / Lucia - Greed has grown used to Pride's attitude over the thousands of years, and has also learned that it's better to take the insults than it is to fight back and spend ages dealing with the literal incarnation of inflated ego. The two don't always see eye-to-eye, but even though he knows that she doesn't like him, he still cares for her like he does for all of the demons.
Envy / Rosalyn - Greed gets along very well with Envy, since he can understand the feeling of wanting more. Sometimes they come at odds since Greed usually has a lot of nice things, but he's always willing to trade and share. She and Gluttony are Greed's favorite.
Gluttony / Jackie - Enjoys that she wants to consume and constantly desires more, as it reminds him of himself. Besides this, her apprehension towards going in head first and wish to make a plan before anything greatly appeals to Greed.
Lust / Abigail - Greed likes Lust's enthusiasm and desire for excitement. He especially likes the fact that she doesn't hate all humans, as he shares the opinion, albeit for different reasons. |
8,265 | 224 | 4 | 1,173 | 393 | Lust had never slept before. So she never experienced waking up either. It was something completely different that what came before it. The first three seconds were really the best. In that moment, that insignificantly tiny speck of time she forgot about everything. The past was gone, ideas were shaded in the darkness of her eyelids, names, faces, her favorite positions and toys even her identity as the sin of love was completely foreign to her. It was utter emptiness and it was wonderfully terrifying.
Then, everything starting coming back like a stream from a water cannon pulsing through an old wooden door. Her skull throbbed with the information and she felt like the pressure behind her eyes was going to cause them to pop out of her skull. Two completely new and enjoyable sensations in a single day? She couldn't remember the last time such an even occurred but it couldn't have been for at least a thousand years.
God spoke to them. God was always speaking to them. For some reason, pride, hate, something in between, God never shut up. Sure, sometimes it said something interesting, even exciting like announcing the creation of the garden of Eden and the human beings who'd call it home, declaring war against the fallen angels, stepping up to the front lines to do what its army wasn't capable of and sentencing Lust and her partners to hell for all eternity, but since then it's really been nothing but reminding everyone how they screwed up. Which got boring, fast. There were only so many times you could be reminded of how careless an action was before the words lost all meaning. Most of the time Lust didn't even hear god any more. She just heard fuzzy thundering all around hell.
This last time it was different. When God spoke to her it caught her attention right quick and in a hurry. There was something new coming to them as maybe god himself overestimated the effect of living in a realm of torment would have on his naughty little children. Not that he'd admit to such a thing, because god, like pride, wasn't one who'd miscalculate. So they'd go somewhere different, somewhere more fitting, really fitting, as in they'd go to a land which only existed because of a single demon's jealousy. For their next punishment the seven deadly sins would be sent to Earth so they could see how hard it was to be humans, during the most difficult times of their lives.
"Uh." Lust coughed as she sat up. Her throat felt like sand and her neck creaked when moved as if it would fall off at any point. So of course she made a point of moving her head in every direction to see how much sensation she could work out of the situation. The light in the room made her eyes hurt, which was wonderful, but she kept having to blink. The human body had automatic defenses against self harm, didn't it? What a shame! She'd have to work around it.
Lust used her hands to hold open her eyelids while she gave the room they were in another once over. She noted the other sins, who didn't look anything like their old selves. She could tell who they were though on account of body languages being one of her specialties. "I see I wasn't sent her alone then." The corner of her full lips bowed for a moment before springing up into a smile. "Fantastic! With you guys around I'm sure things'll will quickly get interesting!" She showed her teeth in an attempt at smiling, but the action came off more like a bear's warning that things were going to get bad if everyone didn't just turn around and walk away. She would've continued with words of excitement but noted that Pride and Wrath looked to be having one of their moments again, and didn't want to stop them. The fights with the two were always the most enjoyable things to watch because they never went the same way twice and one really could never know who'd come out on top until one of them was literally limp at the other's feet.
"Hmmm?" Lust's attention slightly shifted towards Greed, who was focused on something sleek and shiny like a hell bug's carapace but flatter, and probably not as enjoyable for use as food, or a sexual partner, but which might exceed the species as a piece of decoration. The thing did have a look to it that pulled attention like a black hole pulled light, or god's love caused cancer. "That?" Her hands released her eyelids as she looked around for something on the ground. Thick streams of tears flowed down her cheeks as her human body rushed the moisturize her eyes so as not to become blind and thus susceptible to a quicker death. "I'm not sure, but" she scanned the ground and picked up something long and black with various rubber squares sticking out. She held the item out towards Greed. "Try poking it with this thing as see what happens." She gave a nod. "If nothing happens it means you aren't poking it hard enough. Really get in there until things start cracking." Another smile. A bird on a nearby window saw it and laid an egg a days earlier than scheduled.
"Huh?" The demon of desire blinked down at what used to be a thick black armored limb. "So I've got a new body too, huh? Should be fun." | Demon Name: Lust
Adopted Human Name: Abigail Valiz
Physical Age: 15
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Abigail's new body stands at 5'1. Her deep red hair hair goes down to her lower back. She has bright blue eyes. Her body is the kind of body only the demon of sin could posses, with luscious curves in all the right places.
Personality: Unlike most of the demon kind Lust never hated humans, the angels, or the creator who so spurned her. They made life interesting and she poked and prodded them to make sure they stayed interesting. To her consciousness itself was something to shake just to see if it would blow. The phrase "A lust for life" sums up Abigail to a T. She desires to experience everything the world, the universe, All of the creator's works, have to offer. The sin yearns to dive head first into pleasure and sink deep into pain. She wants to feel the mixture of every flavor of the rainbow spread over her tongue. More than anything this sin craves to hold her finger up high before jamming into the button with a big warning sign over it saying "Do not push!" just to see if the warning was worth the paint.
Abigail is a friendly individual, happy for company up till it becomes boring, but that's okay because with her charm and seductive nature it won't take long for her to get things moving in some new interesting way. There's nothing off limits to her and she'll happily push down a baby carriage just to see how a crowd reacts.
Magic:
Elysian Fields-Abigail creates a sphere of red light, which can be up to ten meters in diameter, with Abigail serving as the sphere's center. Within this sphere Abigail can freely move properties/ aspects from one object to another. Once a property is moved it will remain, until either the ability is deactivated, Abigail is rendered unconscious, or the object(s) are taken out of the ability's area of effect. Note-at maximum range this ability is extremely taxing and Abigail can only keep it activated for ten minutes before having to deactivate the ability and rest for at least half an hour before she's able to reactivate the ability.
Heart Breaker-Abigail summons a bow made of pink light. When she places her hand on the string a glowing white arrow appears, which when fired through the heart, instead of killing, causes the victim to believe their heart's greatest desire is standing where the arrow landed. (Note-only the person effected by the initial strike is effected by the arrow, and nobody else would notice or be able to sense it.) If Abigail hits anything but a heart the arrow will do what any other normal arrow would do. Abigail can use this technique on up to five targets at a time., The effect will last until either the ability is deactivated or Abigail is rendered unconscious.
Sympathy for the Devil-Abigail shoots incorporeal chains from her hands that upon contact, link nervous/ sensory systems together. Thus the individuals involved experience all the sensations the others are feeling. Abigail is capable of creating a network of up to ten individuals at a time. The maximum range for her chains being fifteen meters. She is able to keep the ability active for an hour at a time, after which ten minutes of rest are required before she can reactivate the ability. Abigail is capable of dictating which pieces of sensory information go to who, if any at all.
Likes:
-Sensation
-Oddities
-Violent reactions
-Combat
-Excitement
-Anything new
Dislikes:
-Repetition
-Static/ white noise
Extra: Abigail's hair tends to be on the disheveled side as she finds brushing it tedious. |
8,266 | 224 | 5 | 2,270 | 284 | Bel
Nothing had really changed in Sloth's routine since the fatidical day where he was, much like the rest of his fellow demon generals, captured by the almighty God - that surprisingly took quite the time to do so in despite of his supposed almightiness - with the only real differences being the lack of angels attacking him and the change of environment: Instead of resting in his extremely comfortable bed he had to sleep in the nowhere-as-satisfactory floor of the room used to seal him. That being said, the demon didn't really feel dissatisfied, after all in despite of the act of capturing him through the use of cowardly tatics or the not-so-comfortable lodgings that the divine being prepared for him, Sloth still had to admit that God also gifted him something that he had been longing for a long while: The opportunity to peacefully sleep for the rest of eternity, even if in the form of eternal imprisonment - a gift that the demon deeply appreciated, for that had been his sole desire from the very start.
His dream-like routine was quickly shattered though, as the supposedly merciful God suddenly decided to once more punish him, suddenly encasing his body with his distasteful divine light and summarily - Well, not really. He did say something that sounded important before, but the demon decided to ignore it in favour of napping - mess with his being, clouding his mind and changing his body as he encompassed him with his power and finally blinding his normally flawless spatial awareness, forcing him to directly open his eyes for the first time in days to access the situation.
The first thing he saw after getting accostumied to the blinding light was that he wasn't in his cell anymore, being in a foreign room decorated by nothing but a few chairs and a glass table in the center as well as a strange black object that made even the lethargic him confused for a second, just enough time for him to notice that he wasn't alone: 6 other beings sat near him. At first he actually thought God was playing a prank on him, for the 6 others in the room were naught but humans - beings that he could force into eternal slept with no lore than a casual glance - but this misconception was quickly cleared when the others started to talk, their mannerisms and aura clearly denoting who they truly are and how deeply troublesome the situation was: His fellow demon generals were now a bunch of seemingly powerless humans and, by what he started to notice by analysing his clawless limbs, so was he.
Passed the initial impact of the sudden revelation of powerlessness, Sloth quickly steeled himself to do what he does the best: Nothing. Even if he was as curious about the situation as any of the other demons Sloth didn't think that he had the capacity of effectively reach an conclusion just by investigating his surroudings or randomly throwing words, deciding instead to maintain his eyes open - what was already quite the challenge for someone as listless as him - and wait for someone to discover something. After all he didn't really think that God would simply lock them in human bodies and abandon them to their own luck. By what he saw in his days of captivity, the divine being was too much of a bad winner to leave them alone after finally managing to capture them - it was a fair choice to bet in the chance of a divine mensager suddenly appearing to tell them what their punition truly was and just wait for it. | (Approved via PMs)
"Look, I don't need any new developments in my life. In other words, I don't want to get involved with new people."
Demon Name:
Sloth
Adopted Human Name:
Arthur Balthazar Belani (Nicknamed Bel)
Physical Age:
16
Chosen Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Resuming it roughly, Belphegor's human appearance is that of a youth of average height (167 cm) with a medium-short black colored hair that seems to be in a constant state of disarray and blue eyes who seem to be always demonstrating dullness - as if uninterested by anything that happens around him. His complexion is said to be fairly handsome, although in a fragile way, and seems perfectly matches his pale white skin and slim build - common to those who pass most of their time sleeping under a blanket, far away from the reaches of sunlight and burdens of physical activities - to give him an aura of aloofness and nobility that is further reinforced by his permanently deadpan-ish face and equally apathetic attitude, that contribute to make him hard to approach by normal people.
Personality:
Bel is, as one would expect from the being known for representing the sin of sloth, a very listless person, being constantly exhausted whenever he's awake and having the habit of often sighing when faced by the necessity of doing so, he is known to actively avoid anything that may possibly make him act in a proactive way, refraining from getting involved anything related to working - specially if it includes any physical activity. Overall he rarely does anything above what is strictly necessary to maintain his peaceful lifestyle, refraining from excessively interacting with others or effectively bounding with people due to the excessive burden that it would bring to his energy lacking self.
In addition to his own lack of interest in interacting with others, Bel seems to be naturally unable to express his feelings correctly, seeming to be largely apathetic and hardly trying to correct this impression due to his own inability to outwardly express what he feels. Even in the rare occasion where he does try to express his thoughts, he unconciously ends doing so in an apathetic seeming way as well, often making him look excessively emotionless and uncaring.
That being said, Bel is actually one of the most moderate demons - having a fairly easygoing way of handling things and hardly being harmful to those around him - and actually seems to be a fairly gentle being now that he is confined to a human body, showing some signs of being a fairly caring person to those who earn his affection and hardly going out of his way to deliberately harm someone else - even if the person in question tried to harm him before.
Magic Powers:
Telekinesis: Befitting his position as the sin of sloth, Bel is capable of freely using the power of telekinesis to manipulate the world around him without having to do it with his own hands, showing an overwhelming amount of control over this specific ability. While his exact limits are currently unknown - specially since he doesn't effectively try to test his limits - he seems to be capable of easily lifting things of considerable weight - such as a truck or bus - with his power without showing any excessive signs of exhaustion.
Knowledge Absorption: The sin of sloth was always intrinsically linked with human inventiveness, often being said to be the sin that benefited the most from humanity's technological advances. Due to this close ligation, Bel seems to have the ability to easily absorb knowledge just from touching something that acts as a vector for it - such as a book or even a piece of machinery - and immediately understand the fundamentals of what is shown by it. That being said, he is unable to do the same without being able to touch the direct vessel of the information, being unable to - as an example - directly absorb knowledge from the internet or someone's mind.
Aura of Listlessness: Bel, as the demon of sloth, seems to naturally make those around him sleepy and lethargic simply by being around them and, if willing to, seems to be equally able of directly take the stamina of those around him, being capable of making normal humans tired to the point of fainting with no more than a gaze. That being said, this power seems to he fairly useless against other mythical beings, hardly having any effect other than making them slightly sleepy.
Likes:
- Sleeping
- Reading
- Dozing off
- Napping
Dislikes:
- "Anything Troublesome"
- Sports
- Moving more than necessary
- Noisy people
- Being dragged into troublesome situations
Extra(WiP):
- While making Bel feel truly pissed is almost impossible, those who managed to do so hardly lived enough to regret their mistakes since the sin of sloth seems to be surprisingly ruthless and systematic when it comes to getting rid of those who disturb his peaceful lifestyle.
- Due to his cheat-like learning ability, Bel is actually regarded as one of the most promising students of the Harrison Academy, having some of the highest grades of the school in despite of constantly sleeping in class. |
8,267 | 224 | 6 | 2,033 | 9,317 | ~Lucia~
"You just said something about being stuck here...Was this your doing you jealous wretch?! You seek to take over my sanctum don't you!?"
Oh for the love of herself - Pride had to resist stabbing the mongrel.
Repeatedly. Until he was nothing more than a lump of flesh not fit to even breath the same air as she did - Oh wait a minute...
For the moment, Pride let wrath rant. That was easier and better than to try and reign in that unsightly temper if his. It was rather pitiable, really. Seeing him flail around so much. Pride didn't even flinch when he tossed the table...though, it was a very nice looking table, for a human made item.
"I don't care what form you take, or what form you force on me, I'll still grind all you miserable heaps of flesh into pulp and sinew where you stand!"
"Oh look. You've reduced yourself to something less than a rabid mongrel. A screeching chimpanzee, is it? A screeching, diseased, monkey." Pride sighed, giving Wrath a cool stare. Suddenly, the entire room was filled with an oppressive seeming air. It became thicker, making it harder to breathe as Pride's violet eyes stared at Wrath mercilessly. The other demons would easily be able to tell who exactly was doing it as she continued to speak.
something that could even
"Now SILENCE." Her voice commanded, almost seemingly speaking from nearly every corner of the room at once. Even the raging Wrath would at least feel a twinge of something, be it fear, respect, or whatever else it was that made him think twice about continuing his rampage though it was no guarantee that he'd stop. Heh, good. She could still do that. Fool god...with this she could just persuade all the humans to turn against him with little difficulty. Prides words were absolute, and they were to be obeyed.
No need to start fighting among themselves here. That would be detrimental to all parties involved.
"If you would let me explain the situation to you Wrath," She continued in her normal tone. She hadn't moved once from her seat, not a single muscle as she stared Wrath down with an unblinking stare aside from her words. "And use that brain of yours for a moment I will fill you in on the details of our so called 'punishment'. If you don't remember, it was 'God' that banished us all to this place. I had nothing to do with it, or do you think I would willingly subject myself to this putrid air that these humans breathe? Ugh, it almost makes me vomit even being in the same realm of existence as them."
Of course, did he not decide to calm himself down...she had ways of restraining him. She may have lost her blinding radiance temporarily and a majority of her powers and the gilded halls she called home, but she could still feel her shining brilliance in the back of her mind. Waiting, to shine their light upon these fools.
"Now will you sit and listen or will I have to take more drastic measures that would be bad for all parties involved?" | "Ha...How far I have fallen to subject myself to living among these cockroaches. Heh...might as well enjoy this gift, oh merciful God. I shall make sure to repay this insult...a hundred fold, soon."
Demon Name:
Pride
Adopted Human Name:
Lucia Beatrice Megalos
Physical Age:
17
Chosen Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Stark white hair, with violet eyes and standing at a fairly tall five foot eight Pride likes to think she is the embodiment of physical perfection. While she doesn't have the endowments of lust to be certain, there is such a thing of being overly endowed to crude, imperfect levels. She has a well-built build, with soft curves and most people tend to find her fairly alluring and difficult to tear their eyes away from.
Personality:
Pride. Hubris. A sin even the best men can commit without even knowing it. Lucia embodies this in quite a number of different ways, as the physical embodiment of the sin of Pride. Lucia thinks very highly of herself, as one might expect. She believes that she is absolutely the best at everything. Academics, sports, physical ability, appearance, intelligence, video games, writing everything. While the truth may be somewhat less than true, it is known she always, always strives towards perfection.
She regards others around her with varying levels of acknowledgement and disregard. At times, she doesn't even seem to notice the little people, as if to her they don't even exist. This treatment also extends to her demonic brethren of any kind. Nothing more than tools to be used in accomplishment of some goal - that is what everyone is to her. She loathes weakness of any kind, especially in herself and her supposed allies.
She leads, because she thinks she is deserving of it and is mercilessly cruel to those who question her authority. Indeed, she loves putting down others, especially those who stand against her.
However, like the nature of Pride itself, she can be rather two-faced. Pride in small doses, can be a good thing. Taking pride in ones work is after all, not a sin so long as one does not let it cloud their judgement. It's an insidious sin that one may not even realize they're falling for until its too late. She's also not a complete fool when it comes to dealing with others, especially humans. When in public or dealing with other mortals, her nature and dealings with humans is much more measured. To most humans, she'll come off as simply extremely confident if somewhat icy and difficult to approach...but otherwise perfectly friendly. Sometimes encouraging, and even protecting of them...nurturing that pride of theirs. She comes off as very...Himedere, in nature most of the time.
In terms of redeeming qualities, Lucia Is very confident. Confidence, even when facing situations that are not favorable can go a long way to making one simply power through it. She is dedicated, determined, and will follow through with any course of action she chooses even if she ends up getting hurt in the process. Surprisingly those that are her allies and subordinates, she takes very good care of as long as they are loyal and know their place. Insulting them, insults and disrespects her by extension. She also is the demon most likely to keep her word...if you can get her to agree to something.
As for her demonic brethren....she dislikes the lot of them.
Gluttony is too gluttonous. Unsightly fat pig. Thinks of nothing beyond their stomach.
Greed wants what he can not have, that isn't rightly theirs. Chase entire fortunes and covetous of Prides own power. Pathetic.
Lust is just a mindless slut. Physical relations with other beings? Pathetic whore.
Sloth is a lazy, unmotivated, fool lacking vision. Doesn't have the necessary vision of a better world Pride has. Their world
Envy is a pathetic worm. Worse than a snake, even. A worm wriggling about in the muck, crying and whining about what it lacks and will never have.
Wrath is nothing more than a rabid mongrel deserving to be put down. Though a rabid mongrel does have its uses, she supposes....
That said, she tolerates them. They have their uses, but she isn't afraid of telling them what she thinks of them.
Magic Powers:
Unlike what one might expect, Pride itself is not a directly combative force. Oh certainly, as a demon she is vastly more powerful than humans are. However, compared to someone like say, Wrath or Envy, Pride takes a much more restrained approach to violence. Indeed, it even seems to shy away from it...at least, as far as getting itself involved goes. It prefers to work through agents, keeping its hands clean until just the right moment. She is a commander. A leader. Not a trooper or fighter. A tactician.
However, for all her 'perfection' she lacks many other things that makes demons powerful. Most notably, she has no truly fancy magics.
Lord of Hubris: Bearer of Light:
Ever so radiant, the bringer of Light. So profanely alluring. A false god. Pride, is charismatic. Almost blindingly so. It is appealing. It is a thing that everyone is capable of. This makes her words seem much more alluring. In effect, those that hear her words will be more motivated to do as she desires. The sun itself seems to always be on her side, lighting their path forwards.
Alternatively, she speaks with such a domineering and frightening tone that it threatens to paralyze those that listen with fear, or make them flee in terror, the radiance blinding them. Which effect is felt by people, depends entirely on if they are an ally or not. Even high level angelic beings would have trouble shrugging this off entirely.
She can pacify entire rooms with her voice alone, and most wouldn't dare to stand against her. Anything not a mindless entity would be affected by this in some fashion.
To put simply, this is either used as a motivational to get people to agree with her, or to scare them into submission.
Prides Perfection:
Perfect body, able to move mountains. Perfect mind, able to think of the perfect solution to a problem, seemingly able to process information faster than most humans are capable of. Perfect everything. Pride, is perfect. In essence, Pride is perfect. She is at the peak of physical strength, agility, and ability, and while she perhaps may not be as clearly physically strong as a raging wrath or her other brethren...compared to humans? She could kill them with a single hand. She is agile, fast, and strong, capable of easily lifting tons of weight and pulling of extreme feats of acrobatics.
However, this has been restricted to what could be considered peak human levels for someone of her apparent age, as far as her current appearance goes meaning she is not as strong as any other human at the moment.
Rule of Pride:
This human form, is by far her normal form. Her original, radiant, form was stripped from her by god when she was forced into this silly human body. Pathetic. Pathetic. Infuriating. That damn arrogant god! She refuses! She rejects him with her entire being as well as these shackles. She is a proud being, and will suffer no insult as to be shoved into a form more fit for mere maggots, writhing in the mud to be fodder for the birds! However, try as she might she can not break this form.
She is however, able to regain some of her lost radiance stripped from her.
Wings full of blackened feathers sprout from her back in a flash of brilliant white. She is able to summon multiples of her favored weapon, a double pronged spear - a bident. The weapons are ethereal constructs, seemingly made of pure light and she is able to manipulate them as ranged javelins or wield one as an effective melee weapon. She can summon around ten different ones at a time, and is able to fire them at foes from a distance.
Likes:
- sweets
- Grapes
- Apples
- Power
- Being in charge
- Being called 'Mistress'
- Military uniforms
- The color of Pride, Purple.
Dislikes:
-God (arrogant fool)
-Weakness
-Carelessness
-Recklessness
-Humans
-Demons
-Things with more power than she.
-everything that isn't herself
Extra:
- Always wears thin gloves in public, as if the human world is too filthy for her to touch.
- Surprisingly, she likes singing and is fairly good at it. Probably because she likes hearing her own voice. |
8,268 | 224 | 7 | 1,085 | 511 | Gluttony had been last to speak up. She was like that, always watching. Wrath, Envy- they preferred to destroy a soul quickly, but you couldn't do that with fat and food. Hers was the slow, inexorable burn.
She looked around, feeling almost weak at the knees. Her strength, her insatiable hordes that laid waste to all before them- where were they? The last thing she remembered was being in the vanguard, laughing with Wrath as they raced to tear down the very gates of Heaven. And then, just a white haze, with a few vaguely defined words floating around her mind. God's words, she supposed. He always was a sanctimonious bastard. Why couldn't He just let the demons run free, without inhibition or restraint? That, more than anything else, was what she wanted.
"God's punishment seems to be quite clear, at least to me. He wants us to live as mortals, see the damage we inflict upon them. He's trying to get us to feel remorse. Well, the only thing I feel is hatred of Him! I say we get our powers back, find a way back to Hell, and then do what we do best- kill angels and take over the whole fucking universe! Who's with me?!" | ◥Alastor◤
Demon of Wrath - Executioner of Hell
The devil whispered to me "you are not strong enough to withstand this storm." I whispered back; "I am the storm..."
Name - Alastor Bartholomew A.K.A "oh god no"
Demon - Wrath
Age - 18
Gender - Male
Height - 6'10"
Weight - 185.5lbs
Personality - In spite of being the embodiment of rage, Alastor is actually a deceptively pleasant guy. As long as he is left to his own means, he can even seem like a friendly individual. Though he tends to be a meathead and a rebel, he's actually one of the more easy going Sins. He jokes around and likes to roughhouse, pulling pranks and causing mischief with his gang of "friends;" a small group of humans who thinks he's "cool." Though he spends most of his time daydreaming in class or ditching to do random things, he does enjoy the competition involved in sports and physical education. However his temper is quite short, and when faced with authority or disagreement, he can go off like a stick of dynamite. His seemingly calm attitude can and will quickly become a enraged rampage, only ending when he either gets what he wants, or forgets why he was upset. He never backs down from a fight and has no qualms about starting them.
Other than his tantrum prone disposition, Alastor is known for being somewhat ditzy, rash, and at times outspoken. He rarely takes things seriously, mostly cause he doesn't like trying to understand things. He has quite an appetite, though nowhere near certain other gluttonous demons. When he isn't in a rage, pulling pranks, or zoning out, Alastor listens to or plays music, typically punk or grunge rock. If he isn't in or around school, Alastor spends his free time and weekends out on the town hopping from club to party, either causing trouble, getting into trouble, or drinking himself into a jolly stupor. More often than not, it's all three.
Appearance - Fair skin, pointed teeth, slightly unkempt long dark red hair that falls about an inch above his shoulders usually worn in a halfhearted ponytail, crimson eyes similar in hue to his hair, slender athletic build in proportion to his height. Alastor prefers to wear darker colors, often accentuated by spiked or studded accessories, chucks or boots, and leather jackets or coats. During the summer, he usually sports ragged cut off jeans torn around the hinges, dark button down t-shirts or wife beaters, and sandals. On occasion, one might find him in different types of athletic attire as he is part of multiple after school sports clubs.
Powers
Rend - Exerting his might, Wrath generates massive vibrations and shock waves with his motions, which can travel though virtually any medium, including the ground, water, air, and flesh. Fueled and empowered by his rage, in the darkest of times these tremors have grown to split the earth, cause tsunamis, waken volcanoes, and reduce buildings to rubble. Wrath's natural physical capabilities are no greater than any of the other demon. However when he infuses these abilities with his attacks, his raw strength becomes matched only by the actual raw strength of Gluttony.
Acrimonious Dogma - Wrath is the emperor of rage, feeding off the anger and hate in mortal hearts, commanding those with weak wills who feel any form of animosity in his presence. Alternatively, he can extract rage from individuals and manifest it as demonic and deformed doppelgangers with strength and size relative to the amount of anger felt by the one they were extracted from.
Executioners Decree - Wrath partially regains his true demon form, taking on the appearance of a frightening winged avatar of war and vengeance, sporting hellish armor and weapons resembling those he used as the executioner of hell. It takes a lot of rage fueled energy to channel this form and usually leaves Wrath in a partial coma.
Likes - Competition, rebellions music, practical jokes, fist fighting, to crush his enemies, see them driven before him, and to hear the lamentations of their women.
Dislikes - Authority, tough guys, liars, traitors, weak winded individuals, and math.
Extras
Theme
◥Executioners Decree Theme◤
◥◤ |
8,269 | 224 | 8 | 707 | 516 | The tension in the air was so thick that it was palpable, and the stare down between the two powerhouses of the sins would terrify the bravest of souls. Of course, having dealt with these sorts of arguments for thousands of years, Greed knew that ignoring them was the best strategy. At worst, they would only hurt each other. Instead, Greed kept his attention on the black screen, looking for any discerning markings or letters that would clue him in on it's purpose. This investigation was cut short when one of the women, most likely Lust considering her... Assets, approached Greed and answered his inquiry.
"That?"
The woman bent down to the floor and began to search around, blinking rapidly and rubbing her eyes. After several seconds of searching she rose up with a strange device that Greed had not noticed before.
"I'm not sure, but try poking it with this thing as see what happens. If nothing happens it means you aren't poking it hard enough. Really get in there until things start cracking."
Greed gently took the object, making sure to hide his smirk. Lust must have been trying to take make him out to be a fool. Why would he ever poke something so hard it cracks? If it didn't work with the slightest of taps, then why the hell would a human use it? They are creatures that are slothful, and wouldn't use excessive force unless they had to... Unless, this screen was a weapon. Gently, Greed poked the black surface with the remote, and nearly jumped from the loud noise behind him.
"Now SILENCE."
A chill rushed down Greed's spine and, for several seconds, he refused to make a sound. Eventually, however, he gasped and began to breath heavily, being released from Pride's influence. That was one of his least favorite parts about her - she was always ready to use that power of hers, and it always effected the people around her. It was only thanks to the fact that her voice wasn't directed straight at Greed and their thousands of years together that Greed was able to shake the effect so quickly. Greed simply shook his head and turned back to the screen, turning away from the argument unfolding. This was the point when the argument would stop. Wrath would step down, since Pride always used her power when she was trying to win an argument. Wrath felt the full brunt of her voice, so he must have been shaking in his boots right now. The object had dozens of buttons, all easy to press and pleasant to the touch. Greed carefully read the text on or next to the buttons, and tried many until he was left with one button in the upper right of the object. It was circular, odd considering most of the other buttons were rectangles or squares, and was red with a white symbol. The symbol itself appeared to be a circle with a line partially protruding from the top of the circle. This button drew his attention since, unlike most of the other buttons, it completely lacked text.
All the while, the room slowly began to tremble, and Greed shuddered in fear - Wrath wasn't standing down. This had only happened a few times in the extensive span of time that the group knew each other, and it was always over the biggest reasons. Greed knew the second that the words "Try me..." escaped Wrath's lips, it was time to be afraid. The shards of glass trembled slightly, and Greed immediately hurried his work on the black screen, praying that it was a weapon he could use to shield himself from the ensuing fight.
With great care, Greed placed the remote flat on the screen, and pressed the power button, only for nothing to happen. Of course nothing would happen, this thing was useless! Angrily, Greed backed away from the screen, and pointed the remote once more at the screen, this time at a distance of about 5 feet. Once he pressed the button, the black screen immediately brightened, revealing a man in a suit talking in front of a map.
"-and there is a slight chance of rain this week, with possible thunderstorms on Saturday."
On the screen, percentages were listed underneath pictures of rain clouds, and the man continued to drone on and on about the weather. Greed was now at a significantly further distance, and it took him nearly 30 seconds to realize that the man talking wasn't really there. How he managed to put himself into the screen, Greed wasn't completely aware, but he obviously couldn't see the demons or he would have asked what was with the fight going on behind Greed. More that this, Greed pondered who the hell this man was - he could predict the weather, with amazing accuracy if the percentages were to be believed. He must have been an incredible wizard to accomplish such a feat...
More importantly, Greed was glad to have the remote. Hw toyed with it, playing with the volume and turning it up and down, like a child with a new toy. This remote was his now - he claimed it. In the back of his mind, behind the joy of getting a new possession, Greed hoped that the fight would be dispelled thanks to this man suddenly appearing in the screen. | "Doesn't matter if I'm in hell or on earth - everyone wants something they don't have. I just give them what they want... For a price."
Demon Name: Greed
Adopted Human Name: Darry Kress
Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Male
Appearance: Greed is a fairly attractive young man that seems to be of German descent, standing at 6'1 and weighing 175 lbs. Like some of the other sins, he has fairly outlandish features - mainly blue hair and eyes. He is fairly muscular, but nothing extremely impressive. To be quite honest, besides the hair and eyes, he really doesn't stand out that much. He prefers to wear formal clothing, and has a particular affinity for suits. His voice is deep and kind, the sort of voice you can get lost in.
Personality: Greed is, without a doubt, the easiest sin to commit. All creatures on earth want more, humans especially so. It's in their nature to amass a fortune, to have more than others. Or, at the very least, that is what Greed believes. Greed embodies the very concept of desire, and as a result, always wants a profit. Unlike gluttony who only concerns themselves with primal 'wants', Greed views himself as more refined. He doesn't care for money as much as you would expect - after all, money is just paper. Of course, he loves money since it can buy things, but he prefers things with concrete value. A dollar's value will fade, but gold has always been valuable... and things with personal or emotional value also entice him. He plans to own everything on earth eventually - every person, place, and thing. But you gotta start small...
Greed's desires shift constantly - he could have worked tirelessly to get a new car, but then immediately grow bored and go after something else that catches his interest. Hell, he may even trade the car in a contract for something he wants. Which brings us to another point - Greed is not possessive of his treasure. He is willing to share with others, and even trade things away. After all, he'll eventually get it back - with interest. The only thing he doesn't do is give freely. Everything has a price, even life itself. If you can't pay it, then you earn none of Greed's sympathy.
Greed respects humans and can understand their value, but just like everything else, he views them as property. He respects them now since they aren't his, and he will respect them when he owns them since he doesn't want to break his toys, but he will never be on the same level as a normal human. Doesn't mean he can't pretend he is though. Greed is amazing at lying, and this combined with his Evil Eye allows him to be very persuasive towards people. He is very good at socializing, most likely because he knows what people want in a friend, and he can be the perfect friend for a time. And then, when one of his friends needs a loan, he'll be right there, willing to make a deal... But even though greed views humans as insignificant, he isn't sociapathic or anything. He doesn't wish harm on other people, and will actually protect a person's life if he can. After all, a life debt is very valuable...
Greed is never satisfied. You could give him everything in the world, and he would just want more. He can trade things now, but his goal is to own everything - where only he has property. Greed is also highly analytical, constantly appraising the value of different choices and possibilities. He hides this with an easy going persona and masks his intellect by playing dumb.
Greed respects the other Demons, and is even willing to help them for cheap. They are the closest thing he has to family, and they are definitely the people he spends the most time with. Of course, he has differing opinions on each of them.
Magic Powers: Greed is one of the sins that has a distinct lack of combat-oriented powers, instead relying on manipulation and support in order to help the other demons. While not as much of a leader as someone like Pride, Greed is easily able to get supplies and, should the need arise, bodies. Greed grows stronger the more he has at his disposal - with nothing, he is virtually powerless, but with enough resources, nearly anything is possible.
Contract:
Greed can form contracts with other people, allowing him to trade things like money, objects, or even people. That's not all, though - nonphysical things can be traded as well, such as ownership, a name, time, or even abilities and skills. Additionally, this contract is magically binding - even if someone sold their house for a nickel while drunk out of their mind, they would hand over the keys without a single complaint. The contract does not need to be written - that's pretty old school in the fast-paced, modern world. A contract could be verbal, or even sent by text message.
Their are a few limitations, however. Both parties are magically bound, meaning Greed must fulfill his own part of the contract. Additionally, a person can't be intimidated or forced into a contract - they must agree to it of their own will. Finally, Greed's power is not as strong as it used to be - he can only make 3 contracts a day, each making him progressively weaker. After making his third contract in a day, his powers are locked, rendering him powerless until he goes to sleep and the next day arrives. Finally, while the contract is magically binding, it only forces a person to obey what they agreed to do. If Greed tricks a person to give him their car, they will, but nothing stops them from destroying it after they hand over the keys. Or punching Greed in the face.
Evil Eye:
Greed is in the hearts of all creatures on earth, big or small. Of course, the Demon of Greed himself would know what people want. With a single glance, Greed can identify the desires of any animal larger than a mouse. While it's not really effective on animals since they all usually want food or sex, this power is very useful against humans. Greed can tell every desire a person has, but must spend time staring at a person to see the desires they care less about. Also allows Greed to hear a person's thoughts whenever they think about something they want (EX: "Wow, I really want that purse!").
Not very many limits on this power. It relies on sight, so being blinded makes Greed unable to use it. Additionally, it can't be turned off, so Greed constantly has to see a person's desires if he looks at them. Can get very overwhelming in crowded spaces.
Materialistic:
Greed is capable of summoning anything he owns. The item being summoned can appear anywhere within 30 feet of Greed, and can include living things. Summoning things takes anywhere between 30 seconds and instantaneously, depending on the size. Things that are too large to be summoned within 30 feet of Greed (Ex: A large boat) cannot be summoned by this power.
Likes:
- Valuable Things
- Talking with People
- Collecting
- Recognition
- Meat, Particularly Beef
- Respect
- Fancy outfits
- The Other Demons
Dislikes:
- Pointless Violence
- Wasting Things
- Charity
- People Who Don't Make Deals
- Rushing Into Things
- Being Cheated
- His Human Name
- Stealing his Things
- Lying to the Demons
Extra:
-Greed does not enjoy his new name. When in the presence of other demons, he will refer to himself as Greed, and will usually introduce himself as Greed to people outside his primary social circles.
-It should be noted, Greed will usually give people what they really want with a contract, and will only ever twist the wording if he is desperate. It's like he says, he "Just wants to give people what they want... For a price".
Wrath - TBA
Sloth / Bel - Greed enjoys Sloth's company, if only because it allows him a little quiet time. Sloth's lazy nature is a good compliment towards someone like Greed who is willing to do anything to get what he wants, and his telekinetic abilities are sure to come in handy.
Pride / Lucia - Greed has grown used to Pride's attitude over the thousands of years, and has also learned that it's better to take the insults than it is to fight back and spend ages dealing with the literal incarnation of inflated ego. The two don't always see eye-to-eye, but even though he knows that she doesn't like him, he still cares for her like he does for all of the demons.
Envy / Rosalyn - Greed gets along very well with Envy, since he can understand the feeling of wanting more. Sometimes they come at odds since Greed usually has a lot of nice things, but he's always willing to trade and share. She and Gluttony are Greed's favorite.
Gluttony / Jackie - Enjoys that she wants to consume and constantly desires more, as it reminds him of himself. Besides this, her apprehension towards going in head first and wish to make a plan before anything greatly appeals to Greed.
Lust / Abigail - Greed likes Lust's enthusiasm and desire for excitement. He especially likes the fact that she doesn't hate all humans, as he shares the opinion, albeit for different reasons. |
8,270 | 224 | 9 | 58 | 100 | Envy couldn't help but clench her teeth and tighten her fists at Pride's words. The demon, their self-proclaimed leader, was more annoying than an entire squadron of angels, armed with holy weapons. Still, she was a demon, and her ally, at least for now. That might change in the future, though, you never know.
Wrath soon came to, and began howling at Envy like a banshee. The female demon held up her hands, giving a slight point towards Pride's direction. Wrath soon directed his rage towards Pride, and Envy finally grinned. Pride would not want to fight Wrath- hell, Envy, one of the more combat-oriented demons, did not want to fight Wrath. She leaned back against a wall. Her legs felt odd. She was used to having a serpetine body, not human legs. It was weird having to use them to walk, instead of slithering.
"Now SILENCE."
She was taken aback. Her body felt cold, and her human lips could not budge. She was held in this state briefly, before eventually breaking free of the curse. She gave Pride a death stare. She despised that power of hers, but there wasn't a hell of a ton she could do.
What worried her was when Wrath started countering with his own aura. Envy, rather than interfering, backed away. A fight between Wrath and Pride would certainly not end well. For any of them. Her eyes came to rest on Greed, fiddling with a black rectangle and the black screen on the TV. Much to her surprise, the screen soon lit up, with a man talking about the weather. Envy couldn't help but be surprised. How was this man predict the future? That was an ability none of the demons had- at least, none of the ones under her control. Her eyes flitted around the room- sometimes at the remote in Greed's hand, sometimes at the increasingly dangerous Wrath and Pride situation.
At that moment, a wave of magic flooded the room. Envy had no idea where and why, but she knew it happened. Her magic sealed itself up, as she could only assume the same thing happened to the other demons.
The door then swung open, revealing what appeared to be a middle-aged human, with silver hair and a grey suit. The man looked about the room. "I see that you are all fitting in quite well, hmmm?" His gaze moved to Wrath and Pride, before shifting back to the room as a whole. "Oh, pardon me. I seem to have forgot myself for a moment. I am Sebastion Gilmore, owner of this house. I will be checking back here every so often to make sure that the place is...in order." He looked down at the shattered glass table. "Obviously, you'll have to pay for that. Does anybody have a check?"
Envy understood only a few words from the man's blurb. One of themm was 'owner.' The other was 'in order.' And then there was 'pay.' Envy did not know what this check was. In demon culture, typical punishment involved chains, whips, and lava pits. No matter what it was, Envy did not want to deal with it. So she quickly spoke up, her voice as normal-souding as possible.
"Sorry, I have nothing."Her voice did managed to sound like a normal human adolescent. "Do any of you guys have a check on you?" | Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Seen above. Rosalyn, or Envy, stands at 5'7", which is a respectable height for a girl. She wishes she could be taller, but there isn't a helluva ton she can do in that department. She has long teal hair, which she likes to keep into two pigtails. She also has two teal eyes. Apparently, this is all normal because anime world? Well-built, slightly muscular, with slight curves. She weights 133 pounds, which puts her between a small and medium build.
Personality: Rosalyn is envy, and thus displays envy. Whenever somebody is better than her, she wants to top them. Overcompetitive might be able to describe this- she always wants to be the best and doesn't like to take breaks. Some of these things, like academics or sports, might be change-able (just examples), but she often desires the unobtainable, such as beauty.
Rosalyn is very critical, and while she doesn't necessarily enjoy putting people down (OK, just a little) she finds no fault in doing so. Those are the people beneath her. The people above her? Well, you should be scared. Rosalyn is also vindictive and can hold a grudge for a surprisingly long time. You don't want to get on her bad side.
Her good side? Envy is firmly dedicated to her cause. She's loyal to those she trusts and protective of those she's befriended. Maybe tsundere?
She would get along better with Greed and Gluttony, but would be at arms with Sloth, Pride, and Lust (eeerrgh good looks.)
Magic Powers:
Serpent Queen
Snakes are the animal of envy, and as such can conjure snakes out of thin air and control them. She can also Medusa shit up and turn her hair into snakes, but she doesn't.
Curse
Envy can put a curse on a person. From hence on, everything will go wrong to that person. Basically unluckiness curse. Lasts until Envy says so or she runs out of juice.
Power Steal
By focusing, Envy can take one of the powers from another Demon/magical being and use it for her own for 24 hours. Could be useful. You never know.
Likes:
- Being #1
- Make-up
- Cooking (she'll admit, this is one human habit she enjoys)
- Manga (b-back off, baka)
- Destroying her opponents
- Victory, overall
Dislikes:
- Pride, the Demon
- Laziness
- Humans that are annoying to her but don't know what she really is
- Pride, the Demon
- God
- Humans that worship God. There's only one real deal around
- Pride, the Demon (if not enunciated yet)
Extra: Can't think of anything right now tbh |
8,271 | 224 | 10 | 1,085 | 511 | Energy roiled through the room as the frightening strength of the two demon powerhouses stared each other down. Their oppressive auras grinding the small space between them. The tension peaked as it seemed like a pin drop would spark all hell to break lose from either side. However before Wrath's fury had the chance to grow any further, the strange magical presence choked the room, once again catching Wrath off guard. Enter the silver haired man in grey through a door the enraged demon didn't even realize existed. The sight grabbed a hold of his small attention span, drawing his gaze toward middle aged man as he began to speak.
Like Envy, Wrath didn't really understand much of the mans few words. Mostly because he was very annoyed and on the brink of rampage. However he managed to comprehend a few scraps of information from what the mysterious grey man had to say. Of that information, the part about paying for the shattered table stood out to him. Wrath scoffed, turning completely away from Pride and now facing the toward the stranger. "Me? Pay? What a foolish notion." The thought of anyone exacting a price on the ruler of revenge was almost laughable in his eyes. "The only one here who's going to pay is you for such insolence. Pay in shredded flesh and splintered bone when I split the earth beneath your feet and reduce this strange hovel of a prison to rubble!" With an open hand, Wrath raised his palm to face the grey man, and balled his fist heavily, as if to clench the air before him. But nothing happened. After a brief pause, he tried again.
The confused and angry demon made a fool of himself for several moments as he made several gestures and motions, waving his fists about like a drunken dancer while everyone in the room looked on. His eyes widened again. "What? No! I just felt the contemptuous will of that whelp Pride nearly bind me! Where are my powers?!" It wasn't just prides power. Wrath felt his own power well up inside him just moments ago. However they are all nullified somehow. Finally Wrath stopped, feeling a bit winded for the first time in his existence. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Wrath looked toward the grey man. "You...you smell different." Like any other beast, Wrath had an acute sense of smell. It was one of the traits that made up for his lack of intellect. "You're the only one here who doesn't reek of sin and brimstone." Slowly, the dumbfounded demon began to piece together the facts.
"Speaking as if you have some control over us...this is no doubt your doing." Concluded Wrath. With rebellion painted across his face, the fuming demon traded his scowl of a creeping grin. "Go ahead who or whatever you are. Make me human. Imprison me. Strip me of my powers and my throne. Try as hard as you like to quell the fury of furies." Even without powers, Wrath has slayed many amongst the pits of hell. Thousands of demons amongst his innumerable ranks of minions would challenge him for his thrown daily, and he often answered the call in the most gruesome of ways, crushing those that would dare stand against him with his bare claws. He felt this would be no different. "I'll still decorate the walls with your innards and make tapestry from your skin, even if I must tear through you with mortal fingers! That will be your payment for this disgrace!" Without a second thought, Wrath threw himself at the man fists bared. A primal scream escaped his human lungs as he quickly closed the distance, ready to unleash his savage rage upon the grey man. | ◥Alastor◤
Demon of Wrath - Executioner of Hell
The devil whispered to me "you are not strong enough to withstand this storm." I whispered back; "I am the storm..."
Name - Alastor Bartholomew A.K.A "oh god no"
Demon - Wrath
Age - 18
Gender - Male
Height - 6'10"
Weight - 185.5lbs
Personality - In spite of being the embodiment of rage, Alastor is actually a deceptively pleasant guy. As long as he is left to his own means, he can even seem like a friendly individual. Though he tends to be a meathead and a rebel, he's actually one of the more easy going Sins. He jokes around and likes to roughhouse, pulling pranks and causing mischief with his gang of "friends;" a small group of humans who thinks he's "cool." Though he spends most of his time daydreaming in class or ditching to do random things, he does enjoy the competition involved in sports and physical education. However his temper is quite short, and when faced with authority or disagreement, he can go off like a stick of dynamite. His seemingly calm attitude can and will quickly become a enraged rampage, only ending when he either gets what he wants, or forgets why he was upset. He never backs down from a fight and has no qualms about starting them.
Other than his tantrum prone disposition, Alastor is known for being somewhat ditzy, rash, and at times outspoken. He rarely takes things seriously, mostly cause he doesn't like trying to understand things. He has quite an appetite, though nowhere near certain other gluttonous demons. When he isn't in a rage, pulling pranks, or zoning out, Alastor listens to or plays music, typically punk or grunge rock. If he isn't in or around school, Alastor spends his free time and weekends out on the town hopping from club to party, either causing trouble, getting into trouble, or drinking himself into a jolly stupor. More often than not, it's all three.
Appearance - Fair skin, pointed teeth, slightly unkempt long dark red hair that falls about an inch above his shoulders usually worn in a halfhearted ponytail, crimson eyes similar in hue to his hair, slender athletic build in proportion to his height. Alastor prefers to wear darker colors, often accentuated by spiked or studded accessories, chucks or boots, and leather jackets or coats. During the summer, he usually sports ragged cut off jeans torn around the hinges, dark button down t-shirts or wife beaters, and sandals. On occasion, one might find him in different types of athletic attire as he is part of multiple after school sports clubs.
Powers
Rend - Exerting his might, Wrath generates massive vibrations and shock waves with his motions, which can travel though virtually any medium, including the ground, water, air, and flesh. Fueled and empowered by his rage, in the darkest of times these tremors have grown to split the earth, cause tsunamis, waken volcanoes, and reduce buildings to rubble. Wrath's natural physical capabilities are no greater than any of the other demon. However when he infuses these abilities with his attacks, his raw strength becomes matched only by the actual raw strength of Gluttony.
Acrimonious Dogma - Wrath is the emperor of rage, feeding off the anger and hate in mortal hearts, commanding those with weak wills who feel any form of animosity in his presence. Alternatively, he can extract rage from individuals and manifest it as demonic and deformed doppelgangers with strength and size relative to the amount of anger felt by the one they were extracted from.
Executioners Decree - Wrath partially regains his true demon form, taking on the appearance of a frightening winged avatar of war and vengeance, sporting hellish armor and weapons resembling those he used as the executioner of hell. It takes a lot of rage fueled energy to channel this form and usually leaves Wrath in a partial coma.
Likes - Competition, rebellions music, practical jokes, fist fighting, to crush his enemies, see them driven before him, and to hear the lamentations of their women.
Dislikes - Authority, tough guys, liars, traitors, weak winded individuals, and math.
Extras
Theme
◥Executioners Decree Theme◤
◥◤ |
8,272 | 224 | 11 | 2,033 | 9,317 | ~Lucia~
Off to the side, Pride vaguely acknowledged Gluttony's words. Foolish, just like Wrath. Ugh, she was surrounded by blubbering idiots who couldn't do anything but bark growl and stuff their faces with food suitable only for maggots.
but that was a discussion for a different time.
Pride's expression remained unchanged. She felt no fear, no tension, nothing. Wrath was going to have to try a little harder than that to intimidate her. She was perfect, and as such, there was no need to feel such things. No matter the outcome, she'd have him kneel like the mongrel he was. Fool. Now wasn't the time to be fighting among themselves, but wrath was far too rabid to even acknowledge such a thing. Her violet eyes stared back at him, meeting his own furious wrathful gaze with nothing but her own cold dispassion.
"Try me..."
She narrowed her eyes only slightly, raising her left hand. She could feel them, yes. Her entire arsenal of Light was still there. She may only have had a fraction of her blinding, perfect radiance but it would be more than enough to deal with this mongrel. She wouldn't need more than one. A small wisp of light formed in her hand in an instant.
And then in an instant, she lost it completely. Her eyes widened, but not in surprise, but rather irritation and fury.
"WHO DARES-" She cut herself off quickly as a newcomer entered the room, someone most definitely not human. It was logical to assume he was the thief of her radiant, holy, light. He only had a moment to introduce himself as their...'caretaker' as well as the owner of this place. So that's how it was, then. God sent a little snitch to watch them. Hmph, not unexpected at all, really. It was also not unexpected for Wrath to completely lose the rest of his composure.
"Fool..." She tried, she really did try to like the fools she called her 'Demon Comrades', but Wrath made it oh so very difficult all the time. Why couldn't they at least be more reasonable like Greed was?
Before Wrath could take more than a few steps towards Sebastion, Pride calmly lifted herself out of her seat in both a graceful, yet obviously determined and hurried manner. Now facing the back of Wrath who was lunging at Sebastion, she grabbed the chair with a firm grip, gloved hands easily lifting the chair from the ground.
And in one swift, graceful motion slammed it into the back of Wrath's head.
There was a sickening crunch of likely both wood and bone, as one of the legs that had hit his impossibly hard head splintered just like his skull would have been if she had even a fraction of her former strength. The effect would likely almost be immediate - knocking the raging demon out completely. Deciding one blow wasn't enough however, she followed it up with a second strike, slamming the chair right into his cranium and sending the demon face-first into the ground.
Well, just one more thing to do then.
Pride observed the chair, noticing one of the broken legs. With a soft hum, she tore the half broken leg off and placed the chair back on the ground.
"I think your head is a suitable replacement for breaking my chair." She cruelly smirked, adjusting the chair so that its broken leg was planted firmly into his head and facing Sebastion. "Hm, now that's quite a lovely view, isn't it?" She turned to Sebastion.
"I apologize for my...roommate." Pride replied to the obviously not human person. "He was a little...intoxicated." She slammed her foot down into his back, digging her heel firmly into it, as if trying to grind some sense into the demon. "...It is a...pleasure to make your acquaintance. I assure you, one of us will pay for these damages to your property." She turned her eyes towards Greed briefly. "Later, of course...once we get a little more settled into our new home here." Once finished greeting the man, she took a seat in the chair and leaned back in it, the broken leg creaking as it pressed into Wrath's head from her weight.
Hm, a little wobbly. Perhaps Wrath's face could use further adjustment once she could get some proper tools. Pride watched Gilmore carefully as she continued to speak.
"Hmm...Is there something you are visiting for, Sir Gilmore...or was this just a social visit to see if we were up to anything?" Polite for now. Get this insect out of her sight faster that way.
Ah...how she wish she had a delicious glass of blood-wine right now...and some grapes and a few slices of an apple. Tsk.
Oh and the ambient sound of her enemies being tortured for eternity. That was always a pleasing sound to hear. Hopefully by the time he woke up Wrath would be a little calmer and easier to talk too. She'd have made sure to get as much satisfaction out of this as she could before then. Getting into another scuffle with him after he found himself being humiliated so, while hilarious and gratifying on so many levels, would be detrimental to them all. | "Ha...How far I have fallen to subject myself to living among these cockroaches. Heh...might as well enjoy this gift, oh merciful God. I shall make sure to repay this insult...a hundred fold, soon."
Demon Name:
Pride
Adopted Human Name:
Lucia Beatrice Megalos
Physical Age:
17
Chosen Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Stark white hair, with violet eyes and standing at a fairly tall five foot eight Pride likes to think she is the embodiment of physical perfection. While she doesn't have the endowments of lust to be certain, there is such a thing of being overly endowed to crude, imperfect levels. She has a well-built build, with soft curves and most people tend to find her fairly alluring and difficult to tear their eyes away from.
Personality:
Pride. Hubris. A sin even the best men can commit without even knowing it. Lucia embodies this in quite a number of different ways, as the physical embodiment of the sin of Pride. Lucia thinks very highly of herself, as one might expect. She believes that she is absolutely the best at everything. Academics, sports, physical ability, appearance, intelligence, video games, writing everything. While the truth may be somewhat less than true, it is known she always, always strives towards perfection.
She regards others around her with varying levels of acknowledgement and disregard. At times, she doesn't even seem to notice the little people, as if to her they don't even exist. This treatment also extends to her demonic brethren of any kind. Nothing more than tools to be used in accomplishment of some goal - that is what everyone is to her. She loathes weakness of any kind, especially in herself and her supposed allies.
She leads, because she thinks she is deserving of it and is mercilessly cruel to those who question her authority. Indeed, she loves putting down others, especially those who stand against her.
However, like the nature of Pride itself, she can be rather two-faced. Pride in small doses, can be a good thing. Taking pride in ones work is after all, not a sin so long as one does not let it cloud their judgement. It's an insidious sin that one may not even realize they're falling for until its too late. She's also not a complete fool when it comes to dealing with others, especially humans. When in public or dealing with other mortals, her nature and dealings with humans is much more measured. To most humans, she'll come off as simply extremely confident if somewhat icy and difficult to approach...but otherwise perfectly friendly. Sometimes encouraging, and even protecting of them...nurturing that pride of theirs. She comes off as very...Himedere, in nature most of the time.
In terms of redeeming qualities, Lucia Is very confident. Confidence, even when facing situations that are not favorable can go a long way to making one simply power through it. She is dedicated, determined, and will follow through with any course of action she chooses even if she ends up getting hurt in the process. Surprisingly those that are her allies and subordinates, she takes very good care of as long as they are loyal and know their place. Insulting them, insults and disrespects her by extension. She also is the demon most likely to keep her word...if you can get her to agree to something.
As for her demonic brethren....she dislikes the lot of them.
Gluttony is too gluttonous. Unsightly fat pig. Thinks of nothing beyond their stomach.
Greed wants what he can not have, that isn't rightly theirs. Chase entire fortunes and covetous of Prides own power. Pathetic.
Lust is just a mindless slut. Physical relations with other beings? Pathetic whore.
Sloth is a lazy, unmotivated, fool lacking vision. Doesn't have the necessary vision of a better world Pride has. Their world
Envy is a pathetic worm. Worse than a snake, even. A worm wriggling about in the muck, crying and whining about what it lacks and will never have.
Wrath is nothing more than a rabid mongrel deserving to be put down. Though a rabid mongrel does have its uses, she supposes....
That said, she tolerates them. They have their uses, but she isn't afraid of telling them what she thinks of them.
Magic Powers:
Unlike what one might expect, Pride itself is not a directly combative force. Oh certainly, as a demon she is vastly more powerful than humans are. However, compared to someone like say, Wrath or Envy, Pride takes a much more restrained approach to violence. Indeed, it even seems to shy away from it...at least, as far as getting itself involved goes. It prefers to work through agents, keeping its hands clean until just the right moment. She is a commander. A leader. Not a trooper or fighter. A tactician.
However, for all her 'perfection' she lacks many other things that makes demons powerful. Most notably, she has no truly fancy magics.
Lord of Hubris: Bearer of Light:
Ever so radiant, the bringer of Light. So profanely alluring. A false god. Pride, is charismatic. Almost blindingly so. It is appealing. It is a thing that everyone is capable of. This makes her words seem much more alluring. In effect, those that hear her words will be more motivated to do as she desires. The sun itself seems to always be on her side, lighting their path forwards.
Alternatively, she speaks with such a domineering and frightening tone that it threatens to paralyze those that listen with fear, or make them flee in terror, the radiance blinding them. Which effect is felt by people, depends entirely on if they are an ally or not. Even high level angelic beings would have trouble shrugging this off entirely.
She can pacify entire rooms with her voice alone, and most wouldn't dare to stand against her. Anything not a mindless entity would be affected by this in some fashion.
To put simply, this is either used as a motivational to get people to agree with her, or to scare them into submission.
Prides Perfection:
Perfect body, able to move mountains. Perfect mind, able to think of the perfect solution to a problem, seemingly able to process information faster than most humans are capable of. Perfect everything. Pride, is perfect. In essence, Pride is perfect. She is at the peak of physical strength, agility, and ability, and while she perhaps may not be as clearly physically strong as a raging wrath or her other brethren...compared to humans? She could kill them with a single hand. She is agile, fast, and strong, capable of easily lifting tons of weight and pulling of extreme feats of acrobatics.
However, this has been restricted to what could be considered peak human levels for someone of her apparent age, as far as her current appearance goes meaning she is not as strong as any other human at the moment.
Rule of Pride:
This human form, is by far her normal form. Her original, radiant, form was stripped from her by god when she was forced into this silly human body. Pathetic. Pathetic. Infuriating. That damn arrogant god! She refuses! She rejects him with her entire being as well as these shackles. She is a proud being, and will suffer no insult as to be shoved into a form more fit for mere maggots, writhing in the mud to be fodder for the birds! However, try as she might she can not break this form.
She is however, able to regain some of her lost radiance stripped from her.
Wings full of blackened feathers sprout from her back in a flash of brilliant white. She is able to summon multiples of her favored weapon, a double pronged spear - a bident. The weapons are ethereal constructs, seemingly made of pure light and she is able to manipulate them as ranged javelins or wield one as an effective melee weapon. She can summon around ten different ones at a time, and is able to fire them at foes from a distance.
Likes:
- sweets
- Grapes
- Apples
- Power
- Being in charge
- Being called 'Mistress'
- Military uniforms
- The color of Pride, Purple.
Dislikes:
-God (arrogant fool)
-Weakness
-Carelessness
-Recklessness
-Humans
-Demons
-Things with more power than she.
-everything that isn't herself
Extra:
- Always wears thin gloves in public, as if the human world is too filthy for her to touch.
- Surprisingly, she likes singing and is fairly good at it. Probably because she likes hearing her own voice. |
8,273 | 224 | 12 | 1,173 | 393 | Lust frowned when she noticed Greed's carefulness with the strange black item on the wall. Instead of banging it to make something happen like in the good old days when they were just howling beast that struck whenever there was something to strike at, he touched the item almost lovingly softly against the black thing before turning his attention to the symbols on the stick. How gentle he could be when there was something he liked always surprised her. A demon was meant to smash beauty, was it not? They're very race were born from the desire to break god's light. Well, most of the race was born to smash the creator and those who stood by it. Lust, herself, only went along with it because new things were so scant in those days and she was tired of playing the harp. A thought flickered up at the forefront of her mind. She wondered what Greed would do if his treasure was at risk? Would he attack Pride? Strangle Wrath? Go screaming mad through the cosmos? Rip apart the creator? There was no way to tell at the moment, but she made sure to make a mental note of the possibility in the off chance the group became dull or somehow managed to succeed in their ultimate goal. Besides, with someone like Greed, it was best to let his fortune grow like with the strange trinkets he already claimed. Ever piece would be another bit of fuel for the fire.
Not that it looked like boredom would become a problem any time soon. The item on the wall, a window it seemed, was brought to life by the stick she gave him. A human appeared on the screen. He talked about the weather and pictures, some moving appeared as if to prove him right. She wanted to see more but Greed starting manipulating the portal so more the sound moved up and down like beast of burden during copulation. Which reminded her. She'd have to see about the sorts of creatures that existed within the world and the limits her new flesh could withstand. Just the idea was exciting!
Speaking of exciting, a newcomer entered the fold. Lust wasn't sure who he was, but he was quick to introduce himself and demand payment from them in something called a check. She didn't know what it a check was, but if it served as a kind of payment she'd make sure to get some when she had a chance. Violence and cunning always went far, but sometimes a bit of purchasing power could go further. Not that she didn't enjoy a challenge! Again, the world was exciting her so. Her knees were trembling with all the prospects quickly presenting themselves.
Then the violence erupted. It didn't happen as she had supposed it would, always a pleasant surprise. The bout was violent and unexpected so it was impossible for her to have been happier. Well, except for how short the fight was, and the lack of gore spraying the walls. She didn't let that dampen her spirits. Once Wrath woke up, if Wrath woke up (which would be interesting if he didn't since none of the Seven deadly sins had died before and she had no idea what they'd do about it. Even if all that happened was his body being tossed through the window, she'd be happy so long as it was something new) he'd wouldn't be in a good mood. He'd want blood, Pride's blood, and wouldn't except it in any other amount but in the gallons.
Lust watched the man like a kitten watched a mouse with only a single working paw. She didn't hate him, or even feel the slightest bit of hostility to the stranger. On the contrary, he was different. There was power behind him, one she wasn't sure she's seen, at least in recent memory. Whatever he was there for, and whatever he would do, she was sure it would cause quiet the commotion. Now her knees were so weak with anticipation the limbs couldn't hold her any longer.
For a moment she watched Pride, doing what Pride did best, excusing authority. She'd seen the show before and couldn't bring herself to even fake interest in it. So without bothering to reply to their leader she turned her attention to the man who apparently owned the place.
"Gilmore, is it?" Lust said, tasting the name on her tongue. She wondered what else he'd taste like. Most of the meat in hell had a bit of a saltiness to it. Would his meat be sweet? Was it more tender or tough? Was there an optimal way to cook him, or was he better raw? What about his clothes? She vaguley remembered one of the tortured souls talking about fiber and how it was good for the human's bowl movements. Did she need to eat his attire too? Not that she wouldn't even if she didn't need to. The garments looked like they'd have an interesting feel in her mouth. "Are you from the creator? Has he finally found fit to give us something new to suffer with?" Anxiously, Lust leaned towards the man, dark eyes wide with excitement. | Demon Name: Lust
Adopted Human Name: Abigail Valiz
Physical Age: 15
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Abigail's new body stands at 5'1. Her deep red hair hair goes down to her lower back. She has bright blue eyes. Her body is the kind of body only the demon of sin could posses, with luscious curves in all the right places.
Personality: Unlike most of the demon kind Lust never hated humans, the angels, or the creator who so spurned her. They made life interesting and she poked and prodded them to make sure they stayed interesting. To her consciousness itself was something to shake just to see if it would blow. The phrase "A lust for life" sums up Abigail to a T. She desires to experience everything the world, the universe, All of the creator's works, have to offer. The sin yearns to dive head first into pleasure and sink deep into pain. She wants to feel the mixture of every flavor of the rainbow spread over her tongue. More than anything this sin craves to hold her finger up high before jamming into the button with a big warning sign over it saying "Do not push!" just to see if the warning was worth the paint.
Abigail is a friendly individual, happy for company up till it becomes boring, but that's okay because with her charm and seductive nature it won't take long for her to get things moving in some new interesting way. There's nothing off limits to her and she'll happily push down a baby carriage just to see how a crowd reacts.
Magic:
Elysian Fields-Abigail creates a sphere of red light, which can be up to ten meters in diameter, with Abigail serving as the sphere's center. Within this sphere Abigail can freely move properties/ aspects from one object to another. Once a property is moved it will remain, until either the ability is deactivated, Abigail is rendered unconscious, or the object(s) are taken out of the ability's area of effect. Note-at maximum range this ability is extremely taxing and Abigail can only keep it activated for ten minutes before having to deactivate the ability and rest for at least half an hour before she's able to reactivate the ability.
Heart Breaker-Abigail summons a bow made of pink light. When she places her hand on the string a glowing white arrow appears, which when fired through the heart, instead of killing, causes the victim to believe their heart's greatest desire is standing where the arrow landed. (Note-only the person effected by the initial strike is effected by the arrow, and nobody else would notice or be able to sense it.) If Abigail hits anything but a heart the arrow will do what any other normal arrow would do. Abigail can use this technique on up to five targets at a time., The effect will last until either the ability is deactivated or Abigail is rendered unconscious.
Sympathy for the Devil-Abigail shoots incorporeal chains from her hands that upon contact, link nervous/ sensory systems together. Thus the individuals involved experience all the sensations the others are feeling. Abigail is capable of creating a network of up to ten individuals at a time. The maximum range for her chains being fifteen meters. She is able to keep the ability active for an hour at a time, after which ten minutes of rest are required before she can reactivate the ability. Abigail is capable of dictating which pieces of sensory information go to who, if any at all.
Likes:
-Sensation
-Oddities
-Violent reactions
-Combat
-Excitement
-Anything new
Dislikes:
-Repetition
-Static/ white noise
Extra: Abigail's hair tends to be on the disheveled side as she finds brushing it tedious. |
8,274 | 224 | 13 | 1,085 | 511 | A broken kneecap, and then a kick to his gut, followed by a blow to his jaw. Wrath had it all planned out. Millennia of combat expertise allowed him to come up with deadly combat strategies in a split second. He was ready for any counter attack from the grey man. However, instead of mounting a fierce and unrelenting attack, Wrath only managed a heavy grunt as a wooden chair crashed across the back of his skull. A massive lump grew from his head where the chair made contact.
The rampaging demon's advance was halted, every muscle in his body tensing up from the impact. A vein swelled above his temple as a deathly scowl darkened his visage. "Wh...who..." Thoughts of vengeance and torture filled his hazy mind, but before he could think or speak any further, a second loud wooden clatter rang out through the room as Pride smashed him with the chair a second time, sending him into the ground with a heavy thud. Everything went black. A second lump grew on top of the first as Wrath laid motionless on the ground, subdued, if only for the moment.
As if his state wasn't enough, the pompous demon wasn't finished. A feeble grunt escaped Wrath's unconscious body as Pride dug the broken leg of the very weapon she assaulted him with into his skull. Another grunt eked out as she took a seat atop the chair atop his head. A grunt accompanied each motion the sadistic demon managed as she rocked or shifted atop the chair atop his head. "Ooof!" Howled the still very unconscious Wrath as the heel of the demon atop the chair atop his head dropped atop his spine.
This was the first time any entity, other than God, stood above Wrath, let alone atop him. That was a first on its own. If he had any idea it was Pride who got to be the first being to manage this feat with her feet, there would be no words in any language or dimension that could begin to describe the untold destruction and mayhem that would ensue in the wake of his rage. Fortunately for all parties involved, his comatose state would keep him ignorant of the fact. For now the ruler of rage was instead the ruler of being a chair leg. | ◥Alastor◤
Demon of Wrath - Executioner of Hell
The devil whispered to me "you are not strong enough to withstand this storm." I whispered back; "I am the storm..."
Name - Alastor Bartholomew A.K.A "oh god no"
Demon - Wrath
Age - 18
Gender - Male
Height - 6'10"
Weight - 185.5lbs
Personality - In spite of being the embodiment of rage, Alastor is actually a deceptively pleasant guy. As long as he is left to his own means, he can even seem like a friendly individual. Though he tends to be a meathead and a rebel, he's actually one of the more easy going Sins. He jokes around and likes to roughhouse, pulling pranks and causing mischief with his gang of "friends;" a small group of humans who thinks he's "cool." Though he spends most of his time daydreaming in class or ditching to do random things, he does enjoy the competition involved in sports and physical education. However his temper is quite short, and when faced with authority or disagreement, he can go off like a stick of dynamite. His seemingly calm attitude can and will quickly become a enraged rampage, only ending when he either gets what he wants, or forgets why he was upset. He never backs down from a fight and has no qualms about starting them.
Other than his tantrum prone disposition, Alastor is known for being somewhat ditzy, rash, and at times outspoken. He rarely takes things seriously, mostly cause he doesn't like trying to understand things. He has quite an appetite, though nowhere near certain other gluttonous demons. When he isn't in a rage, pulling pranks, or zoning out, Alastor listens to or plays music, typically punk or grunge rock. If he isn't in or around school, Alastor spends his free time and weekends out on the town hopping from club to party, either causing trouble, getting into trouble, or drinking himself into a jolly stupor. More often than not, it's all three.
Appearance - Fair skin, pointed teeth, slightly unkempt long dark red hair that falls about an inch above his shoulders usually worn in a halfhearted ponytail, crimson eyes similar in hue to his hair, slender athletic build in proportion to his height. Alastor prefers to wear darker colors, often accentuated by spiked or studded accessories, chucks or boots, and leather jackets or coats. During the summer, he usually sports ragged cut off jeans torn around the hinges, dark button down t-shirts or wife beaters, and sandals. On occasion, one might find him in different types of athletic attire as he is part of multiple after school sports clubs.
Powers
Rend - Exerting his might, Wrath generates massive vibrations and shock waves with his motions, which can travel though virtually any medium, including the ground, water, air, and flesh. Fueled and empowered by his rage, in the darkest of times these tremors have grown to split the earth, cause tsunamis, waken volcanoes, and reduce buildings to rubble. Wrath's natural physical capabilities are no greater than any of the other demon. However when he infuses these abilities with his attacks, his raw strength becomes matched only by the actual raw strength of Gluttony.
Acrimonious Dogma - Wrath is the emperor of rage, feeding off the anger and hate in mortal hearts, commanding those with weak wills who feel any form of animosity in his presence. Alternatively, he can extract rage from individuals and manifest it as demonic and deformed doppelgangers with strength and size relative to the amount of anger felt by the one they were extracted from.
Executioners Decree - Wrath partially regains his true demon form, taking on the appearance of a frightening winged avatar of war and vengeance, sporting hellish armor and weapons resembling those he used as the executioner of hell. It takes a lot of rage fueled energy to channel this form and usually leaves Wrath in a partial coma.
Likes - Competition, rebellions music, practical jokes, fist fighting, to crush his enemies, see them driven before him, and to hear the lamentations of their women.
Dislikes - Authority, tough guys, liars, traitors, weak winded individuals, and math.
Extras
Theme
◥Executioners Decree Theme◤
◥◤ |
8,275 | 224 | 14 | 2,270 | 284 | For the first time in a while Sloth felt truly annoyed. As if not satisfied by their newfound weakness, Pride and Wrath still had the energy - no, the stupidity would be more accurate in this case - to fight amongst eachother, directly emitting their deeply weakened auras as if to measure who was the strongest ant and managing to make even the mildest of the sins feel an urge to directly intervene to crush their pissing contest - something that he was, in fact, about to do when the nearby black object suddenly sprang to life due to Greed messing around it, displaying the image of a man pointing to something that looked like a diagram of some sort and talking about weather, moving the images displayed in the miraculously interactive panel to somehow prove his point - or at least that was what Sloth tought of it before dazing off and merely watching the images move without trying to understand what was happening in the screen.
His moment of pleasant leisure was quickly taken away from him in the next second though as the strange man named Gilmore walked into the room, somehow sealing the small amount of power that they still had as he casually introduced himself - an act that clearly demonstrated that he felt completely safe in despite of being in the presence of the seven generals, pointing that he was either absurdly powerful or they were ridiculoudly weak as of now. "Cheek..?" The listless demon couldn't help but tilt his head, obviously confused as he pointed the area below his right eye while staring the man, misunderstanding what he truly wanted due to the vague similarity of the words - a clear sign of how oblivious he was to the situation, since he didn't even bother with trying to read it to start with.
His stupid questioning was, though, ultimately interrupted by the fact that Pride suddenly started to beat Wrath with a freaking chair, seemingly acting to stop him as he tried to attack the newcomer - a fairly wise decision in Sloth's opinion, since attacking an enemy with unknown skills and abilities perfectly suited his definition of stupid. He didn't even frown when Pride nonchalantly ignored her act and started to have an amicable talk with the male capable of sealing their powers, apparently trying to infer his reasons for being there without letting clear that they didn't know anything about the situation- another fairly wise decision that almost managed to make him raise his evaluatipn of the arrogant demon general - just to be interrupted by a not-so-smart demon general.
Are you from the creator? Has he finally found fit to give us something new to suffer with?
Sloth barely resisted the urge to facepalm when he heard Lust's questions. If they had any hope of feigning some knowledge about their punishment, she managed to completely waste it with naught but two sentences. The facade carefully set by pride was instantly blown by the seemingly innocent question made by Lust, that left more than clear that they had no idea about why they were bound to mortal bodies and what God planned for them, taking away the chance of indirectly taking some information from the man and consequently making the situation considerably more troublesome - something that Sloth couldn't help but take as an offense, for he hated anything vaguely troublesome. | (Approved via PMs)
"Look, I don't need any new developments in my life. In other words, I don't want to get involved with new people."
Demon Name:
Sloth
Adopted Human Name:
Arthur Balthazar Belani (Nicknamed Bel)
Physical Age:
16
Chosen Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Resuming it roughly, Belphegor's human appearance is that of a youth of average height (167 cm) with a medium-short black colored hair that seems to be in a constant state of disarray and blue eyes who seem to be always demonstrating dullness - as if uninterested by anything that happens around him. His complexion is said to be fairly handsome, although in a fragile way, and seems perfectly matches his pale white skin and slim build - common to those who pass most of their time sleeping under a blanket, far away from the reaches of sunlight and burdens of physical activities - to give him an aura of aloofness and nobility that is further reinforced by his permanently deadpan-ish face and equally apathetic attitude, that contribute to make him hard to approach by normal people.
Personality:
Bel is, as one would expect from the being known for representing the sin of sloth, a very listless person, being constantly exhausted whenever he's awake and having the habit of often sighing when faced by the necessity of doing so, he is known to actively avoid anything that may possibly make him act in a proactive way, refraining from getting involved anything related to working - specially if it includes any physical activity. Overall he rarely does anything above what is strictly necessary to maintain his peaceful lifestyle, refraining from excessively interacting with others or effectively bounding with people due to the excessive burden that it would bring to his energy lacking self.
In addition to his own lack of interest in interacting with others, Bel seems to be naturally unable to express his feelings correctly, seeming to be largely apathetic and hardly trying to correct this impression due to his own inability to outwardly express what he feels. Even in the rare occasion where he does try to express his thoughts, he unconciously ends doing so in an apathetic seeming way as well, often making him look excessively emotionless and uncaring.
That being said, Bel is actually one of the most moderate demons - having a fairly easygoing way of handling things and hardly being harmful to those around him - and actually seems to be a fairly gentle being now that he is confined to a human body, showing some signs of being a fairly caring person to those who earn his affection and hardly going out of his way to deliberately harm someone else - even if the person in question tried to harm him before.
Magic Powers:
Telekinesis: Befitting his position as the sin of sloth, Bel is capable of freely using the power of telekinesis to manipulate the world around him without having to do it with his own hands, showing an overwhelming amount of control over this specific ability. While his exact limits are currently unknown - specially since he doesn't effectively try to test his limits - he seems to be capable of easily lifting things of considerable weight - such as a truck or bus - with his power without showing any excessive signs of exhaustion.
Knowledge Absorption: The sin of sloth was always intrinsically linked with human inventiveness, often being said to be the sin that benefited the most from humanity's technological advances. Due to this close ligation, Bel seems to have the ability to easily absorb knowledge just from touching something that acts as a vector for it - such as a book or even a piece of machinery - and immediately understand the fundamentals of what is shown by it. That being said, he is unable to do the same without being able to touch the direct vessel of the information, being unable to - as an example - directly absorb knowledge from the internet or someone's mind.
Aura of Listlessness: Bel, as the demon of sloth, seems to naturally make those around him sleepy and lethargic simply by being around them and, if willing to, seems to be equally able of directly take the stamina of those around him, being capable of making normal humans tired to the point of fainting with no more than a gaze. That being said, this power seems to he fairly useless against other mythical beings, hardly having any effect other than making them slightly sleepy.
Likes:
- Sleeping
- Reading
- Dozing off
- Napping
Dislikes:
- "Anything Troublesome"
- Sports
- Moving more than necessary
- Noisy people
- Being dragged into troublesome situations
Extra(WiP):
- While making Bel feel truly pissed is almost impossible, those who managed to do so hardly lived enough to regret their mistakes since the sin of sloth seems to be surprisingly ruthless and systematic when it comes to getting rid of those who disturb his peaceful lifestyle.
- Due to his cheat-like learning ability, Bel is actually regarded as one of the most promising students of the Harrison Academy, having some of the highest grades of the school in despite of constantly sleeping in class. |
8,276 | 224 | 15 | 707 | 516 | Gluttony watched Pride and Wrath fight it out with mild distaste. They needed to work together to get back to Hell, yet those two were still brawling. Then again, she supposed those were the last two to work with anyone. Pride seemingly won this engagement, grinding a chair leg into Wrath's face. Not bad.
A man came into the room, and with him, an obvious wave of divine power. Gluttony didn't even bother reaching for any of her demonic abilities- the stranger could have shut them down with a glance. That in itself told her a lot. There were only five beings in the cosmos who could manage such a feat- God, and the four archangels. She idly wondered which it was, and if any of the other demons had come to the same conclusions.
She looked at Lust. "I don't have a check on me, but I'm sure she'd be happy to pay you in... other ways." Gluttony didn't think the shameless ploy would work in a million years, but one never knew, did they? | "Doesn't matter if I'm in hell or on earth - everyone wants something they don't have. I just give them what they want... For a price."
Demon Name: Greed
Adopted Human Name: Darry Kress
Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Male
Appearance: Greed is a fairly attractive young man that seems to be of German descent, standing at 6'1 and weighing 175 lbs. Like some of the other sins, he has fairly outlandish features - mainly blue hair and eyes. He is fairly muscular, but nothing extremely impressive. To be quite honest, besides the hair and eyes, he really doesn't stand out that much. He prefers to wear formal clothing, and has a particular affinity for suits. His voice is deep and kind, the sort of voice you can get lost in.
Personality: Greed is, without a doubt, the easiest sin to commit. All creatures on earth want more, humans especially so. It's in their nature to amass a fortune, to have more than others. Or, at the very least, that is what Greed believes. Greed embodies the very concept of desire, and as a result, always wants a profit. Unlike gluttony who only concerns themselves with primal 'wants', Greed views himself as more refined. He doesn't care for money as much as you would expect - after all, money is just paper. Of course, he loves money since it can buy things, but he prefers things with concrete value. A dollar's value will fade, but gold has always been valuable... and things with personal or emotional value also entice him. He plans to own everything on earth eventually - every person, place, and thing. But you gotta start small...
Greed's desires shift constantly - he could have worked tirelessly to get a new car, but then immediately grow bored and go after something else that catches his interest. Hell, he may even trade the car in a contract for something he wants. Which brings us to another point - Greed is not possessive of his treasure. He is willing to share with others, and even trade things away. After all, he'll eventually get it back - with interest. The only thing he doesn't do is give freely. Everything has a price, even life itself. If you can't pay it, then you earn none of Greed's sympathy.
Greed respects humans and can understand their value, but just like everything else, he views them as property. He respects them now since they aren't his, and he will respect them when he owns them since he doesn't want to break his toys, but he will never be on the same level as a normal human. Doesn't mean he can't pretend he is though. Greed is amazing at lying, and this combined with his Evil Eye allows him to be very persuasive towards people. He is very good at socializing, most likely because he knows what people want in a friend, and he can be the perfect friend for a time. And then, when one of his friends needs a loan, he'll be right there, willing to make a deal... But even though greed views humans as insignificant, he isn't sociapathic or anything. He doesn't wish harm on other people, and will actually protect a person's life if he can. After all, a life debt is very valuable...
Greed is never satisfied. You could give him everything in the world, and he would just want more. He can trade things now, but his goal is to own everything - where only he has property. Greed is also highly analytical, constantly appraising the value of different choices and possibilities. He hides this with an easy going persona and masks his intellect by playing dumb.
Greed respects the other Demons, and is even willing to help them for cheap. They are the closest thing he has to family, and they are definitely the people he spends the most time with. Of course, he has differing opinions on each of them.
Magic Powers: Greed is one of the sins that has a distinct lack of combat-oriented powers, instead relying on manipulation and support in order to help the other demons. While not as much of a leader as someone like Pride, Greed is easily able to get supplies and, should the need arise, bodies. Greed grows stronger the more he has at his disposal - with nothing, he is virtually powerless, but with enough resources, nearly anything is possible.
Contract:
Greed can form contracts with other people, allowing him to trade things like money, objects, or even people. That's not all, though - nonphysical things can be traded as well, such as ownership, a name, time, or even abilities and skills. Additionally, this contract is magically binding - even if someone sold their house for a nickel while drunk out of their mind, they would hand over the keys without a single complaint. The contract does not need to be written - that's pretty old school in the fast-paced, modern world. A contract could be verbal, or even sent by text message.
Their are a few limitations, however. Both parties are magically bound, meaning Greed must fulfill his own part of the contract. Additionally, a person can't be intimidated or forced into a contract - they must agree to it of their own will. Finally, Greed's power is not as strong as it used to be - he can only make 3 contracts a day, each making him progressively weaker. After making his third contract in a day, his powers are locked, rendering him powerless until he goes to sleep and the next day arrives. Finally, while the contract is magically binding, it only forces a person to obey what they agreed to do. If Greed tricks a person to give him their car, they will, but nothing stops them from destroying it after they hand over the keys. Or punching Greed in the face.
Evil Eye:
Greed is in the hearts of all creatures on earth, big or small. Of course, the Demon of Greed himself would know what people want. With a single glance, Greed can identify the desires of any animal larger than a mouse. While it's not really effective on animals since they all usually want food or sex, this power is very useful against humans. Greed can tell every desire a person has, but must spend time staring at a person to see the desires they care less about. Also allows Greed to hear a person's thoughts whenever they think about something they want (EX: "Wow, I really want that purse!").
Not very many limits on this power. It relies on sight, so being blinded makes Greed unable to use it. Additionally, it can't be turned off, so Greed constantly has to see a person's desires if he looks at them. Can get very overwhelming in crowded spaces.
Materialistic:
Greed is capable of summoning anything he owns. The item being summoned can appear anywhere within 30 feet of Greed, and can include living things. Summoning things takes anywhere between 30 seconds and instantaneously, depending on the size. Things that are too large to be summoned within 30 feet of Greed (Ex: A large boat) cannot be summoned by this power.
Likes:
- Valuable Things
- Talking with People
- Collecting
- Recognition
- Meat, Particularly Beef
- Respect
- Fancy outfits
- The Other Demons
Dislikes:
- Pointless Violence
- Wasting Things
- Charity
- People Who Don't Make Deals
- Rushing Into Things
- Being Cheated
- His Human Name
- Stealing his Things
- Lying to the Demons
Extra:
-Greed does not enjoy his new name. When in the presence of other demons, he will refer to himself as Greed, and will usually introduce himself as Greed to people outside his primary social circles.
-It should be noted, Greed will usually give people what they really want with a contract, and will only ever twist the wording if he is desperate. It's like he says, he "Just wants to give people what they want... For a price".
Wrath - TBA
Sloth / Bel - Greed enjoys Sloth's company, if only because it allows him a little quiet time. Sloth's lazy nature is a good compliment towards someone like Greed who is willing to do anything to get what he wants, and his telekinetic abilities are sure to come in handy.
Pride / Lucia - Greed has grown used to Pride's attitude over the thousands of years, and has also learned that it's better to take the insults than it is to fight back and spend ages dealing with the literal incarnation of inflated ego. The two don't always see eye-to-eye, but even though he knows that she doesn't like him, he still cares for her like he does for all of the demons.
Envy / Rosalyn - Greed gets along very well with Envy, since he can understand the feeling of wanting more. Sometimes they come at odds since Greed usually has a lot of nice things, but he's always willing to trade and share. She and Gluttony are Greed's favorite.
Gluttony / Jackie - Enjoys that she wants to consume and constantly desires more, as it reminds him of himself. Besides this, her apprehension towards going in head first and wish to make a plan before anything greatly appeals to Greed.
Lust / Abigail - Greed likes Lust's enthusiasm and desire for excitement. He especially likes the fact that she doesn't hate all humans, as he shares the opinion, albeit for different reasons. |
8,277 | 224 | 16 | 58 | 100 | Gilmore's eyes began to glow with holy magic once Wrath lunged at him. Envy could feel the power radiating from him- much more than all of theirs combined. Before he could blast Wrath into oblivion, Pride knocked him out with a chair. A chair. Well, Envy couldn't really blame her. They didn't exactly have their weapons of choice on them right now.
The man shook his head. "Oh, you have so much to learn about the human world. Also, while we're in private, do call me Phanuel, the Face of God. Not in public, though. That would be quite awkward." As he spoke, large angel wings sprouted from his back, and a halo formed around his head. A golden light emanated from his body, making Envy feel regret, just for a moment, for killing hundreds of angels and humans alike.
Phanuel, or Sebastion Gilmore, whatever you're going with at this point, snapped his fingers, and a wave of light washed over the demons. Envy immediately felt something drop into her lap. "God wanted me to give that to you. Identification. You're officially all humans. Just saying, I wasn't an advocate for this. I voted for fiery pits."
Envy read the name on her card. "Who the hell is "Rosalyn Hood" ?
"Your new human name. Sucks for you if you hate it- you get what you get and you don't get upset."
"Harrumph." As soon as her powers were restored from this angel's curse, Envy would destroy him.
"No obvious signs of disappointment allowed. Now, I'll be back next week to check on you. You might want to tuck yourselves in school- your human school starts tomorrow, and doing things while tired is generally not good." And with that, he vanished with a flash of gold light. | Physical Age: 16
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Seen above. Rosalyn, or Envy, stands at 5'7", which is a respectable height for a girl. She wishes she could be taller, but there isn't a helluva ton she can do in that department. She has long teal hair, which she likes to keep into two pigtails. She also has two teal eyes. Apparently, this is all normal because anime world? Well-built, slightly muscular, with slight curves. She weights 133 pounds, which puts her between a small and medium build.
Personality: Rosalyn is envy, and thus displays envy. Whenever somebody is better than her, she wants to top them. Overcompetitive might be able to describe this- she always wants to be the best and doesn't like to take breaks. Some of these things, like academics or sports, might be change-able (just examples), but she often desires the unobtainable, such as beauty.
Rosalyn is very critical, and while she doesn't necessarily enjoy putting people down (OK, just a little) she finds no fault in doing so. Those are the people beneath her. The people above her? Well, you should be scared. Rosalyn is also vindictive and can hold a grudge for a surprisingly long time. You don't want to get on her bad side.
Her good side? Envy is firmly dedicated to her cause. She's loyal to those she trusts and protective of those she's befriended. Maybe tsundere?
She would get along better with Greed and Gluttony, but would be at arms with Sloth, Pride, and Lust (eeerrgh good looks.)
Magic Powers:
Serpent Queen
Snakes are the animal of envy, and as such can conjure snakes out of thin air and control them. She can also Medusa shit up and turn her hair into snakes, but she doesn't.
Curse
Envy can put a curse on a person. From hence on, everything will go wrong to that person. Basically unluckiness curse. Lasts until Envy says so or she runs out of juice.
Power Steal
By focusing, Envy can take one of the powers from another Demon/magical being and use it for her own for 24 hours. Could be useful. You never know.
Likes:
- Being #1
- Make-up
- Cooking (she'll admit, this is one human habit she enjoys)
- Manga (b-back off, baka)
- Destroying her opponents
- Victory, overall
Dislikes:
- Pride, the Demon
- Laziness
- Humans that are annoying to her but don't know what she really is
- Pride, the Demon
- God
- Humans that worship God. There's only one real deal around
- Pride, the Demon (if not enunciated yet)
Extra: Can't think of anything right now tbh |
8,278 | 224 | 17 | 2,033 | 9,317 | ~Lucia~
Gilmore - no Phanuel went on to explain very briefly what they were doing here. That holy light of his only incited anger and contempt in the demon - though who it was directed towards, she wouldn't comment. He had no right to play with their emotions and morals so easily. Foolish angel.
He continued by telling them they were to attend human school and act completely human. Pride had to stop herself from vomiting. Not only that, she was given a pathetic human name of 'Lucia Megalos', judging from the 'identification' that was dropped into her lap. That was...just cruel, god. So ironically cruel! Forcing her of all people to mingle with such lowly creatures. Of course 'God' would know what was the worst possible punishment for her. Before she could question anything however, the angel left in such an overly pompous manner that wanted to make her give him an appropriately fitting torture for the rest of eternity.
"Well..." Pride harrumphed, sliding the ID into her jacket and stood up, picking the chair off of Wrath's head. "Tsk, I liked this chair..." not that she could really use it any more now, how annoying.
"Hm, well, now that the angel is gone..." She turned her head towards Greed. "Am I correct in assuming since it seems like most of our powers were stripped from us we do not have access to your vault?" Pride tossed the broken chair to him. "Do something with this, at least. I don't want wrath waking up and starting some foolish rampage again." Pride, or rather, Lucia as she was called now simply turned her back on the other demons.
She in fact, had at least tolerated them as demons. They at least didn't offend her eyes so much, but these human forms of theirs...Well, it'd take some time to get used to it. | "Ha...How far I have fallen to subject myself to living among these cockroaches. Heh...might as well enjoy this gift, oh merciful God. I shall make sure to repay this insult...a hundred fold, soon."
Demon Name:
Pride
Adopted Human Name:
Lucia Beatrice Megalos
Physical Age:
17
Chosen Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Stark white hair, with violet eyes and standing at a fairly tall five foot eight Pride likes to think she is the embodiment of physical perfection. While she doesn't have the endowments of lust to be certain, there is such a thing of being overly endowed to crude, imperfect levels. She has a well-built build, with soft curves and most people tend to find her fairly alluring and difficult to tear their eyes away from.
Personality:
Pride. Hubris. A sin even the best men can commit without even knowing it. Lucia embodies this in quite a number of different ways, as the physical embodiment of the sin of Pride. Lucia thinks very highly of herself, as one might expect. She believes that she is absolutely the best at everything. Academics, sports, physical ability, appearance, intelligence, video games, writing everything. While the truth may be somewhat less than true, it is known she always, always strives towards perfection.
She regards others around her with varying levels of acknowledgement and disregard. At times, she doesn't even seem to notice the little people, as if to her they don't even exist. This treatment also extends to her demonic brethren of any kind. Nothing more than tools to be used in accomplishment of some goal - that is what everyone is to her. She loathes weakness of any kind, especially in herself and her supposed allies.
She leads, because she thinks she is deserving of it and is mercilessly cruel to those who question her authority. Indeed, she loves putting down others, especially those who stand against her.
However, like the nature of Pride itself, she can be rather two-faced. Pride in small doses, can be a good thing. Taking pride in ones work is after all, not a sin so long as one does not let it cloud their judgement. It's an insidious sin that one may not even realize they're falling for until its too late. She's also not a complete fool when it comes to dealing with others, especially humans. When in public or dealing with other mortals, her nature and dealings with humans is much more measured. To most humans, she'll come off as simply extremely confident if somewhat icy and difficult to approach...but otherwise perfectly friendly. Sometimes encouraging, and even protecting of them...nurturing that pride of theirs. She comes off as very...Himedere, in nature most of the time.
In terms of redeeming qualities, Lucia Is very confident. Confidence, even when facing situations that are not favorable can go a long way to making one simply power through it. She is dedicated, determined, and will follow through with any course of action she chooses even if she ends up getting hurt in the process. Surprisingly those that are her allies and subordinates, she takes very good care of as long as they are loyal and know their place. Insulting them, insults and disrespects her by extension. She also is the demon most likely to keep her word...if you can get her to agree to something.
As for her demonic brethren....she dislikes the lot of them.
Gluttony is too gluttonous. Unsightly fat pig. Thinks of nothing beyond their stomach.
Greed wants what he can not have, that isn't rightly theirs. Chase entire fortunes and covetous of Prides own power. Pathetic.
Lust is just a mindless slut. Physical relations with other beings? Pathetic whore.
Sloth is a lazy, unmotivated, fool lacking vision. Doesn't have the necessary vision of a better world Pride has. Their world
Envy is a pathetic worm. Worse than a snake, even. A worm wriggling about in the muck, crying and whining about what it lacks and will never have.
Wrath is nothing more than a rabid mongrel deserving to be put down. Though a rabid mongrel does have its uses, she supposes....
That said, she tolerates them. They have their uses, but she isn't afraid of telling them what she thinks of them.
Magic Powers:
Unlike what one might expect, Pride itself is not a directly combative force. Oh certainly, as a demon she is vastly more powerful than humans are. However, compared to someone like say, Wrath or Envy, Pride takes a much more restrained approach to violence. Indeed, it even seems to shy away from it...at least, as far as getting itself involved goes. It prefers to work through agents, keeping its hands clean until just the right moment. She is a commander. A leader. Not a trooper or fighter. A tactician.
However, for all her 'perfection' she lacks many other things that makes demons powerful. Most notably, she has no truly fancy magics.
Lord of Hubris: Bearer of Light:
Ever so radiant, the bringer of Light. So profanely alluring. A false god. Pride, is charismatic. Almost blindingly so. It is appealing. It is a thing that everyone is capable of. This makes her words seem much more alluring. In effect, those that hear her words will be more motivated to do as she desires. The sun itself seems to always be on her side, lighting their path forwards.
Alternatively, she speaks with such a domineering and frightening tone that it threatens to paralyze those that listen with fear, or make them flee in terror, the radiance blinding them. Which effect is felt by people, depends entirely on if they are an ally or not. Even high level angelic beings would have trouble shrugging this off entirely.
She can pacify entire rooms with her voice alone, and most wouldn't dare to stand against her. Anything not a mindless entity would be affected by this in some fashion.
To put simply, this is either used as a motivational to get people to agree with her, or to scare them into submission.
Prides Perfection:
Perfect body, able to move mountains. Perfect mind, able to think of the perfect solution to a problem, seemingly able to process information faster than most humans are capable of. Perfect everything. Pride, is perfect. In essence, Pride is perfect. She is at the peak of physical strength, agility, and ability, and while she perhaps may not be as clearly physically strong as a raging wrath or her other brethren...compared to humans? She could kill them with a single hand. She is agile, fast, and strong, capable of easily lifting tons of weight and pulling of extreme feats of acrobatics.
However, this has been restricted to what could be considered peak human levels for someone of her apparent age, as far as her current appearance goes meaning she is not as strong as any other human at the moment.
Rule of Pride:
This human form, is by far her normal form. Her original, radiant, form was stripped from her by god when she was forced into this silly human body. Pathetic. Pathetic. Infuriating. That damn arrogant god! She refuses! She rejects him with her entire being as well as these shackles. She is a proud being, and will suffer no insult as to be shoved into a form more fit for mere maggots, writhing in the mud to be fodder for the birds! However, try as she might she can not break this form.
She is however, able to regain some of her lost radiance stripped from her.
Wings full of blackened feathers sprout from her back in a flash of brilliant white. She is able to summon multiples of her favored weapon, a double pronged spear - a bident. The weapons are ethereal constructs, seemingly made of pure light and she is able to manipulate them as ranged javelins or wield one as an effective melee weapon. She can summon around ten different ones at a time, and is able to fire them at foes from a distance.
Likes:
- sweets
- Grapes
- Apples
- Power
- Being in charge
- Being called 'Mistress'
- Military uniforms
- The color of Pride, Purple.
Dislikes:
-God (arrogant fool)
-Weakness
-Carelessness
-Recklessness
-Humans
-Demons
-Things with more power than she.
-everything that isn't herself
Extra:
- Always wears thin gloves in public, as if the human world is too filthy for her to touch.
- Surprisingly, she likes singing and is fairly good at it. Probably because she likes hearing her own voice. |
8,279 | 224 | 18 | 1,173 | 393 | Lust, or Abigail, if her card was to be believed (and believe it she did since the creator was never one to lie(it was his biggest flaw)) sighed after the man, who called himself the face of god, left so quickly, as all holy messengers did. None of them ever wanted to stay around and talk. Sure, the odds were he, as was the case for most of the loyal ones, wouldn't have had anything particularly amusing to tell her, but he seemed particularly wrathful for an angel so maybe he had some pretty nifty ideas for how hell could've been pushed up a notch or two; it was the 'innocent' who always had the best ideas for torture after all.
Once the angel was gone Lust turned her attention back to the other demons and frowned. Despite nobody looking like anything of their past selves Lust could recognize the faces and had a fair idea of what was coming. Even in a brand new world, with all new bodies they had things to complain about. Which, in itself wasn't bad, but only if he led towards actions, big actions, the kinds with bodies and bits of rubble falling from the blood red sky for hours or even days afterwards. She didn't feel like this was going to be one of those situations, at all. Mostly because Wrath was still out cold on the floor.
Then, something came to her and the old twitch of curiosity that warmed her on so many of the fabled cold days in hell came upon her like the shadows of the angels of death as they flew down to meet the demons in war. "Hey," she said to nobody in particular. "What's school? Did the angel explain any of that, at least or is this one of those cases were the people upstairs just assume we know everything?" | Demon Name: Lust
Adopted Human Name: Abigail Valiz
Physical Age: 15
Chosen Gender: Female
Appearance: Abigail's new body stands at 5'1. Her deep red hair hair goes down to her lower back. She has bright blue eyes. Her body is the kind of body only the demon of sin could posses, with luscious curves in all the right places.
Personality: Unlike most of the demon kind Lust never hated humans, the angels, or the creator who so spurned her. They made life interesting and she poked and prodded them to make sure they stayed interesting. To her consciousness itself was something to shake just to see if it would blow. The phrase "A lust for life" sums up Abigail to a T. She desires to experience everything the world, the universe, All of the creator's works, have to offer. The sin yearns to dive head first into pleasure and sink deep into pain. She wants to feel the mixture of every flavor of the rainbow spread over her tongue. More than anything this sin craves to hold her finger up high before jamming into the button with a big warning sign over it saying "Do not push!" just to see if the warning was worth the paint.
Abigail is a friendly individual, happy for company up till it becomes boring, but that's okay because with her charm and seductive nature it won't take long for her to get things moving in some new interesting way. There's nothing off limits to her and she'll happily push down a baby carriage just to see how a crowd reacts.
Magic:
Elysian Fields-Abigail creates a sphere of red light, which can be up to ten meters in diameter, with Abigail serving as the sphere's center. Within this sphere Abigail can freely move properties/ aspects from one object to another. Once a property is moved it will remain, until either the ability is deactivated, Abigail is rendered unconscious, or the object(s) are taken out of the ability's area of effect. Note-at maximum range this ability is extremely taxing and Abigail can only keep it activated for ten minutes before having to deactivate the ability and rest for at least half an hour before she's able to reactivate the ability.
Heart Breaker-Abigail summons a bow made of pink light. When she places her hand on the string a glowing white arrow appears, which when fired through the heart, instead of killing, causes the victim to believe their heart's greatest desire is standing where the arrow landed. (Note-only the person effected by the initial strike is effected by the arrow, and nobody else would notice or be able to sense it.) If Abigail hits anything but a heart the arrow will do what any other normal arrow would do. Abigail can use this technique on up to five targets at a time., The effect will last until either the ability is deactivated or Abigail is rendered unconscious.
Sympathy for the Devil-Abigail shoots incorporeal chains from her hands that upon contact, link nervous/ sensory systems together. Thus the individuals involved experience all the sensations the others are feeling. Abigail is capable of creating a network of up to ten individuals at a time. The maximum range for her chains being fifteen meters. She is able to keep the ability active for an hour at a time, after which ten minutes of rest are required before she can reactivate the ability. Abigail is capable of dictating which pieces of sensory information go to who, if any at all.
Likes:
-Sensation
-Oddities
-Violent reactions
-Combat
-Excitement
-Anything new
Dislikes:
-Repetition
-Static/ white noise
Extra: Abigail's hair tends to be on the disheveled side as she finds brushing it tedious. |
8,280 | 225 | 0 | 1,529 | 520 | Prologue
The Orphanage, late evening
The room was illuminated by a single candle, leaving most of it obscured by darkness. It didn't matter, though, because the most important part of it was clearly visible. The candle sat at the night table next to a bed on which laid the old man who, for years, has been the only parent you knew.
You always knew Fritz as a vigorous old timer, with his clearly defined muscles lying hidden under the layers of clothing as he played the part of a kindly grandfather trying his best to raise his numerous grandchildren. He only showed the extent of his power when someone endangered the Orphanage and in the recent years that has become extremely rare.
But now that strong body that you knew and that seemed so reliable has shrivelled up. There was no trace of muscles on old man’s body, just skin and bones. Fritz was so weakened by the illness he couldn’t even lift himself from the bed anymore. Even to eat, he needed the help of Mary, the oldest of the orphans.
Right now Mary sat right next to his bed, trying not to cry. You and the other children were standing around it. The entire population of the Orphanage was crammed in here. The old man asked everyone to gather because he had something to say, which was in itself a very ominous act.
“Children…” His eyes darted around the room as he began to speak – something told you he probably couldn’t even see who was in the room – and it seemed as if he had trouble breathing. “My time has come. I know that even without me saying, you rea-“ his speech was interrupted by a bout of coughing. It took a few moments for him to continue.”You realize that soon things will become very difficult for you. I tried to make some foundation for your future, but in this world nothing is certain.”
“That is why I wanted to tell you, as my last lesson, to remain united. You are all young, and although there is a lot of potential among you, none of you is strong enough yet to face the challenges of this world alone. So remain together, cooperate, compensate for each other’s weaknesses and you will be able to survive and even thrive in this city.”
With those words he had another coughing fit and this time it was relentless. It took several minutes before Fritz managed to push a few more words out.
“Be –cough, cough – be there for – cough, cough – each other…”
And then there was silence. No more words, no more coughs, no more ragged breathing. Fritz’s chest wasn’t moving. His eyes just stared blankly into the air.
The silence was broken by a piercing shriek from Mary who fell onto the old man’s chest and cried. Other children joined her soon. Very quickly the entire room was resonating with wallows of orphans, orphaned once again.
Just describe your reaction, your plans for the future, and try to get the things going with other players. | Name: Mary, Big sister
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Background: As long as any other orphan can remember, Mary has been in the orphanage. She is one of the first if not the first child old man Fritz took under his wing. Maybe she was the one who inspired him to take up such a philanthropic calling. Regardless, she was always there and she served as a big sister to the rest of the children.
Equipment: Nothing in particular.
Level: 1
Attribute: Fluid
Skills: Cooking, Cleaning, Child-rearing.
Affinity: Earth
Gift: None. Her magic power is too weak. |
8,281 | 225 | 1 | 2,033 | 9,320 | ~Senna~
Location: Fritz's Room -> Main Hall
Senna stood near the back of the room, leaning quietly on the wall away from the other orphans. The single candle in the room didn't do much to light the area outside of the beds immediate area, but that was fine. She didn't feel very much like being seen or talking with the others for now. The cramped space made her feel somewhat vulnerable with all the others present, so she was content to be silent and simply observe from as much distance as she could.
And it hurt.
Seeing Fritz in that state, muscles shriveled and barely able to even speak or eat without help from Mary was distressing, to say the least. Out of everyone the young child ever met, Fritz was the only one who had ever made her feel, well, relatively safe. Even if she wouldn't admit it. She didn't have to struggle every day just to survive, find food, and otherwise get up to no good simply to...exist. Oh sure, she still had a bit of a impish streak to her and she could never not get up to some small sort of trouble if something struck her fancy, and she had definitely probably gotten on the bad side of a few of the other orphans. Fritz though? He was just about the only person in the world she could say with certainty that she would never have messed with in any capacity.
“Children…My time has come. I know that even without me saying, you rea-You realize that soon things will become very difficult for you. I tried to make some foundation for your future, but in this world nothing is certain.”
She folded her arms across her chest, eyes turned towards the floorboards as she ground her teeth together. Hearing his voice in such a weakened state was almost too much for her.
“That is why I wanted to tell you, as my last lesson, to remain united. You are all young, and although there is a lot of potential among you, none of you is strong enough yet to face the challenges of this world alone. So remain together, cooperate, compensate for each other’s weaknesses and you will be able to survive and even thrive in this city.”
A nice idea, but that's all it was. Getting along with others long term, was not something she was good at. She couldn't handle such monotony for very long. It just wasn't how she basically raised herself. Sticking with one group of people for too long always ended badly - either you getting caught up in something dangerous or something similar, plus being around the same people for any long length of time got boring. People in general were boring when you got down to it, but she had stuck with the orphanage for the better part of...what, four years now?...perhaps she could give these guys a chance.
As the old man coughed his last breath with the last message to be good to each other, Sen's grip tightened on the edge of her arms. She was glad she had chosen to remain quietly in the back, shrouded by the darkness towards the edge of the room - she had a reputation to keep up after all and if someone saw her trying to hold back tears, she'd loose all credibility as a troublemaker she had.
Silently, Senna left the room. She couldn't stand being in there any longer with the other crying orphans and people. Their cries were making her blood boil in frustration and annoyance. Annoyance, because she simply found their wailing to be exactly that - annoying. At least let the man rest in peace for the love of all that was holy. He deserved that much, at least. Frustration because...well, what was she going to do now? For the first time in a few years she had felt more vulnerable than she ever did being on her own. At least she wouldn't have gotten complacent if she had been out there on the streets.
Then again, she might also be dead if she hadn't come here.
Eventually her steps carried her to the main ceremony hall of the old temple that the orphanage was built in. She needed to calm herself. Being distressed about Frtiz wouldn't do anyone any good. Someone had to have their head on right around here, and it certainly wasn't going to be those cry babies wailing over the dead.
Ugh, she wanted to punch something.
Propping herself up against the wall again, eyes glaring at the ground and small wings folding against her body as she started to think about what she'd do long term. For now though, she'd simply hang around and see what the other orphans did. If anyone looked like they were going to get up to anything fun now that Fritz was gone, she'd tag along for a bit. If not...well...maybe she'd try her luck going solo again. Heh, maybe she could make herself as the impromptu leader if no one stepped up to do it. Wouldn't exactly be like her and she doubted the other kids would be too keen on letting someone who constantly messed with them for giggles lead them anywhere, but it was an amusing idea regardless. | The first thing one would notice about Sen, is her incredibly pale, almost snow white skin tone. The next, would likely be the six horns of varying length protruding from her head. Two, long bull like horns curve around her skull from just above her ears which have slight elfin points, with two smaller ones growing in just above them with a final, small two growing barely an inch from the top of her forehead. She has long, black hair typically not styled in any particular fashion and is usually left to hang listlessly. A pair of bat like wings extend from her spine, though they aren't large enough to allow for actual flight, though could aid one in a controlled glide.
The fifteen year old sports rather decorative clothing, and stands about 5'4", a good few inches taller than the others of her age with a skirt and long stockings and platform boots adorning her feet. She has yellow colored eyes with cat like slits for pupils, and her horns don a few charms of unknown make and purpose. She comments they're only there for cosmetic effect. One should not mistake her for some delicate wallflower or other not so physically inclined person. Senna could likely give a few full grown men a run for their money in terms of strength, and her slender, toned body gives away that much at least.
Name:
Senna
Age:
15
Gender:
Female.
Background:
As far as Sen's personality goes, she's a troublesome sort and incredibly fickle most of the time. One moment she might be your best friend, the next she's liable to throw you under the bus if it something inconvenient for her or she grows bored of someone. She might be set on revenge one moment, and then decide to get all friendly with them later - with no intent for betrayal. Really, it just depends on her mood and how she feels at the moment. Generally though, she is fairly flirtatious and promiscuous in her mannerisms, and never shows open hostility towards anyone and treats most people with a fairly friendly demeanor. Of course, one should be wary of her affection of any sort and always take her words and loyalties with a grain of salt.
As she says - "Heh? What, me? Everyone's loyalties lie somewhere. Mine is to myself, and myself only. If I can get ahead by being friendly, I'll do it. If It'll serve me better to shank all of you guys in a dark alley...well, heh. I think it's obvious."
That said, she's not one for random stabbings or betrayals for giggles. One shouldn't have to worry too much about her fickle nature getting in the way of things unless the pros greatly outweigh the cons. Of course, this is only because she values long term partners higher than possibly temporary allies - basically meaning people she could manipulate to an extent with a little clever wording or other such things. Getting her to be completely on the side of any permanent cause, is going to be incredibly difficult, but in the unlikely event that you do have it, you would be surprised at the lengths she might go to repay a debt or help those she might care for.
Has somewhat refined tastes, and would love nothing more than to live in the lap of luxury through any means possible. She very rarely is angry or upset and tries to find humor in everything, but one should be careful of her temper.
Background:
Honestly, Senna has no real idea of her origins. As far as she remembers she was tossed out on the streets at a fairly early age - too young to even remember anything aside from her name, a thing she clung to as her only real possession for a fairly long time. Living on the streets wasn't exactly all that easy, but she managed well enough by showing some of the people around her who was boss and who could outsmart them. She quickly learned how to handle herself in quite a number of brawls, as while she liked to consider herself highly intelligent such things bored her to no extent. She needed things to get the blood flowing, to watch someones cranium implode while she smacked it. For a kid, she was perhaps fairly similar to what her appearance might have suggested, but without anything else to turn to, how could one survive if they didn't cut down the competition?
When Fritz found her, she was half beaten from a brawl and nearly dead when asked about what happened, all she'll comment is that she got out a lot better than those piss for brains, and 'their heads are gonna look reeeeal nice on that fence' She decided to stick around for awhile, see what this whole thing was about and decided to stay at the orphanage for awhile with the other kids.
Equipment:
The only weapons she needs are her fists legs, and gauntlets of stone.
Level:
1
Attribute:
Force
Skills:
Intelligence:
One might mistake Sen for a simple brute that likes to punch her way through everything. Well, they are mostly right. She doesn't have time to really finesse things too much. However, she greatly enjoys brain teasers and considers herself at least above average in the IQ department. She often likes to play chess in her spare time. Though, perhaps 'Clever and Resourceful' might be a better descriptor here. She is by no means going to be outsmarting any scholarly sort, since books and such things bore her to no end.
Manipulative:
Either through more friendly means or less such means, Sen has a surprising way with words when it comes to speaking. Where she picked this up from no one is quite sure, but she comments that sometimes brute force isn't enough, and perhaps a honeyed tongue and playing ones cards right with certain people could easily get one better results. Pitting people against each other and watching delightfully from the sidelines.
Cooking:
In a fairly surprising turn of events, one might find Senna is fairly talented in the cooking department and gets quite agitated if she's cooking and someone interrupts her or messes her up. If you are one of these fools who interrupts her, you won't be having a skull left after she's done with you.
Affinity:
Earth
Gift:
Senna's gift is fairly simple. It allows her to make stone gauntlets out of the earth itself. It is very simple in function, but fairly useful. Aside from enhancing her punches they are also sturdy enough to be able to deflect some blows and things. While perhaps not impressive as some other gifts currently, in time with a little training it would likely grow into something much more effective. |
8,282 | 225 | 2 | 729 | 2,152 | -Ansgar-
Curse the damned old man, Ansgar considered bitterly, seeing Fritz, the one that had held this orphanage together as long as he had, barely clinging to life. The masked orphan, both hands resting on the cane that never left his person, had sequestered himself to the rear ranks of gathered children. To be honest, he had almost missed this little gathering, busy as he was tending to the latest needlework that he had been busy with. To be even more blunt, if it hadn't been Old Man Fritz, well, he would have seriously considered not showing at all. Yet, this was a man that, for better or worse, had been raising Ansgar for as long as he could readily remember. Despite disagreements, mostly on his side and not Fritz's side, the increasingly weathered, aged old man had done his best to keep up, tasking Mary with keeping up when the old man no longer could. Poor girl, Ansgar considered in hind sight, having to put up with his shenanigans. Usually, she had to try and drag him off from some project or another, which he responded to about as well as a common cat would to being dunked in water. In other words, rather poorly indeed.
Maybe that was why Ansgar was cursing Fritz on his death bed, he considered, going and dying, leaving so many lost and without their father, in every way that mattered. Places like this Orphanage were not commonplace, as far as Ansgar had been able to puzzle out, so it was an oddity that was passing away. His grip tightening on the head of his cane a bit more, the sound lost to the sounds of his fellow orphans, facing the fact they were going to be orphaned again. Was that why he cursed at Fritz, an old man about to die, for abandoning the lot of them? He wasn't sure, that tightness in his gut being a strange thing, something he was not used to as of late. Blinding himself with his busy work, ignoring the facts of what was coming. Out of everyone present, Ansgar had probably spent the least amount of time with Fritz in his final weeks. That thought was sobering and, more so than that, haunting, a man who had given everything to take care of him, left to swing in the breeze. Yet his words came forth none the less, despite his inner turmoil, bringing his attention to the pained, struggling words.
“Children…My time has come. I know that even without me saying, you rea-You realize that soon things will become very difficult for you. I tried to make some foundation for your future, but in this world nothing is certain.”
Nothing in this world was certain...Not quite accurate, but close enough to a truth that it wasn't worth quibbling over. Debating details with a dying man wasn't worth their breath. The idea though, was dubious at best. A group that's only tie together now being a common plight, and common loss, were not terribly binding things. His gaze, hidden though it was, found itself locked onto Fritz as he spoke, unable or unwilling to turn away despite himself.
“That is why I wanted to tell you, as my last lesson, to remain united. You are all young, and although there is a lot of potential among you, none of you is strong enough yet to face the challenges of this world alone. So remain together, cooperate, compensate for each other’s weaknesses and you will be able to survive and even thrive in this city.”
Young and full of potential, yet Ansgar could reckon that the only thing holding every single one of them together had been, at times, old man Fritz, so frail on his bed of death. Was it a nice ideal, something that could be striven for and, in better hands, accomplished? Certainly, but a group of soon to be reorphaned orphans that had some interesting, to put it mildly, interactions with one another was not such a group. He didn't expect the group to be able to hold it together, let alone so soon after Fritz's impending passing. He had this gut feeling, nothing solid, but something was lurking out there, waiting for the old man to pass so it could move in for itself. Yet, having grown up in a place he had kept wandering from, trying to figure out where he had come from before his memory started, he always found himself back here, despite overt claims and threats, even, of not coming back next time. Certainly, he could have made true on those things, yet here he was by a dying old man's death bed. Surrounded by borderline sobbing and crying children. Not that he had much room to talk, granted, but he wasn't being vocal about it.
That tightness, however, became a wrenching turn of a barbed knife as Ansgar watched the final breath pass from Fritz, a rattling final request, prompting screaming and sobbing from Mary, whilst the majority of the Orphans present also began sobbing and crying. Spirits, it was too much noise to bear. He could feel the dampness on his face, despite himself, yet his mask was impassive as ever, betraying nothing as he turned and quietly excused himself. He could not be grieving with this much noise, nor that openly. He could not afford himself that luxury, not with the times that were yet to come. If his gut was right, at any rate, and it hadn't led him astray yet. Well, besides staying here, but perhaps that was just his own prejudices coloring his outlook? Perhaps, perhaps not, what was fact was he was not going to subject himself to the overt wails of the majority. He would grieve later, locking down on his emotions yet again, well, thats what he told himself at any rate. But that rending feeling in his gut and his heart, like something terribly broken, lingered, refusing to pass, coupled with a haunting return of a thought.
"Spurned the old man as much as you ran off, now he is dead and gone. So much for apologies, hm?" Harsh, and bitter? Certainly, but dishonest? No, no it wasn't, Ansgar's face turning into a snarl, a strange visage under the mask what with the tears that were dampening his face, forcing those thoughts down. He would beat himself up later, with everyone grieving and sobbing, someone had to go about business as usual, right? The idea of leadership hadn't even come to mind yet, Ansgar was no leader, he sure wasn't much of a good follower either, yet that was what they were going to have to try and figure out in the coming days. Between the mourning, trying to move forward, contesting whatever came of Old Man Fritz's death as word spread, and whatever he couldn't see coming yet. He was no future reader, he would not want to be one either frankly, so all he could do was react as the punches came.
Yet, as the echoing raps of his cane no doubt alerted, Ansgar found he was not the only one to have excused themselves from the crying and sobbing room. One of the older girls, what was her name.... Svenna? Lenna? No, no.... Senna! That was it, probably, a name he barely had a face for. Maybe it was the rather emotional situation or his own preoccupation with keeping himself busy and working, but he tended to forget names as readily as not. He had half a mind to simply just keep walking, but, if the old man wanted them to stick together, just continuing to walk wouldn't have accomplished overly much, now would it? Ansgar's voice was, as always, muffled slightly by his mask, just enough to mask the emotion under the surface. Once again, finding himself thankful for that impassive facade, the words he spoke were, well, not the most tactful, yet spoken they were. "If I didn't know better, I would suggest the amount of wailing and sobbing would be loud enough to wake the dead in there." | Name: Ansgar
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Background:
As far as Ansgar knows, he has always been at the Orphanage with Old Man Fritz leading the way, not to say that Ansgar always got along terribly well with his caretakers. Not to say he disliked the old man, not by any stretch, but the boy always preferred his own methods and flexibility towards happenings, unwittingly taking after his biological father, who's fate was hidden from the boy. Despite being told little and growing up alongside other orphans, Ansgar knew things were awry. He never seemed to excel in any field he applied himself to, unlike many of his peers, yet never seemed to be abnormally weak either. However, two key things seemed to drive him, and prevented him from leaving the Orphanage since he was convinced of his ability to do so already, despite his early years. As such, he tended to hold himself to a standard of maturity above his peers, wearing a mask of hand crafted design to hide himself, from what was as much of a guessing game as anyone could guess. Yet, every morning he had not left, despite mutterings during arguments or disagreements of having no good reason to remain.
Despite the stand offish nature, Ansgar will go and help those around him, often times tending to clothing, injuries, or miscellaneous things that seem to be often forgotten. He prefers to keep himself busy, oddly focused on work for his age, keeping himself focused on one task or another. During his free time, he often practices his Gift, or his needlework, repairing his clothing or mask with needle and thread. Quite the busy body and needlessly serious, are two very good ways to describe the lad. What humor most do hear from him is often an early form of gallows humor, poking fun at things that really, really are not funny at all, which creates dubious amounts of response from peers. He does mean well by it, it just rarely comes across as such.
Equipment: Sturdy old Cane, personal locket, sewing kit (needles, thread, bobby pins, small rusty scissors)
Level: 1
Attribute: Fluid
Skills:
Intuitive - Ansgar is not necessarily the smartest person in the world, some might even mock him for being below average. However, what no one can argue is that he has a natural knack for feeling out a situation or problem with people, not literally mind you, and just seems to know things at times, though the explanation of such is often beyond him. Deception seems to not be as effective as average, Ansgar picking up on tells on an instinctive level, and either calling them out on it or otherwise not bothering to believe a word coming out of their mind.
Dexterous - When it comes to fine motor skills, whether it be needle work or handling delicate materials, Ansgar has a naturally precise, steady hand. The lad seems to take a great deal of pride in his deft, steady handiwork, even when it is benign or otherwise simple things such as stitching up someone's torn clothes or putting together a broken toy. He even has some basic locks figured out, enjoying the challenge of getting into places he should not be rather than merely trying to get into places he isn't allowed for ulterior motives. Often times, he confirms he has it unlocked and leaves it, much to the chagrin of any who have found their things unlocked but undisturbed. Mostly others who also don't have terribly sturdy locks.
Slippery - Not in a literal sense mind you, but in a figurative manner. Ansgar is hard to pin down, and harder to catch when he doesn't want to be. He has this way of worming his way out of someone's grasp, evading others that try to catch him at games, and just seems to be right infuriating to catch. This is further compounded by his intuition, which leads him to instinctively avoiding trouble he is trying to evade, ducking and dodging when others are getting grabbed. To be fair, he has no qualms with brisk cheap shots to unmentionable areas to get out of someone's grasp, but who's counting, honestly?
Affinity: Water
Gift:
Ansgar has a knack for mending the wounds of others, but not in the traditional method of focusing himself on the injury and closing the wound. Rather, he finds himself able to manipulate blood, specifically the water content of blood, his own most naturally but, if he were to lay hands on someone else right now, he could tweak their blood. Most of the time, he can convince blood, whether his or that of someone within his grasp, to be more cooperative towards the healing process, not so eagerly rushing away from its container or aiding in the binding process more easily. He could theoretically do some damage with this, or even reach out farther, but for now, he is limited to one person at a time, and they have to be within his reach. |
8,283 | 225 | 3 | 315 | 290 | In Which the Creature Colloquially Known As 'Dodo' Learns of the Passing of Fritz, The Keeper of Kids, and Subsequently This Event Leads to 'Dodo' Becoming a Scapegrace.
The period of day was late evening, this was of importance to the abomination that was simply referred to as 'Dodo'. This period of time was important as it meant that it would soon become an ideal time for scrounging for food. While meals were provided at a regular schedule these weren't necessarily the meals that Dodo had grown accustomed to. Beyond that Dodo was used to helping out the various pigeons and alley-cats that needed to find subsistence. After all they did raise her before she was captured by the handler; it was only fair that Dodo would help them gather food when the situation was dangerous.
At this particular junction of time Dodo was in fact in the room with the other orphans who were lamenting tears to show their mournful nature about this event. While this was happening, Dodo was scratching at the floor below with her talons. Her wings twitched a bit alongside a dash of head tilting to better observe the masses upon the deceased adoptive dad.
Dodo seemed to be, unaware, of the significance of the passing of the handler of exotic beasts. Overtime Fritz had collected a wide menagerie of monsters, some of which were properly trained humanoids while others were just unruly children. Truly Fritz was a kind soul as seen by his deeds of collecting children who had no other options in a cold and cruel world. Plus more importantly than that, Fritz provided some neat toys for the birdhumanoid that was Dodo. Dodo did appreciate that.
In fact Dodo still carried the worn purse and stress balls that she received from the handler. The purse was swung over her head and rested upon her feathered back as a makeshift backpack. There was the distinctive tip of the leadpipe sticking out of Dodo's purse, which currently wasn't shining with light due to the fact that the room was lit poorly. But when it was bright out and the light hit the pipe just right it would produce a nice sheen. This was the reason Dodo took the pipe in the first place.
Seemingly out of nowhere Dodo's neck began twitching from side to side. Dodo extended the neck upwards which shifted her purse out of place. "KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!" vocalized Dodo as she flapped her feathers a bit. With this vocalization finished, Dodo proceeded to strut out of the room. The creature did not pay attention to the two wall huggers who were in the hallway and proceeded to exit the building.
It was time to begin the search for food. | Name: Dodo
Age: 12
Gender: Female
Background: The birth of Dodo was an event that was surely remembered by the parents and the midwife or doctor that delivered her. It made sense that Dodo was quickly abandoned alone in Dirt Town. This baby was reported to have been raised by a group of alley cats and pigeons, which helps explain Dodo's very odd communication habits, and the feral and predatorial front she presents to others.The abomination which showed that the universe clearly did not care about the fate of its inhabitants for the most part lived her life helping her adoptive family of pigeons and alley cats obtain food and protecting them from the wild packs of dogs. During one of the trash dives for food she was discovered by Fritz, who had to drag her to the orphanage while she was kicking and resisting. However she somewhat adapted to the orphanage as a few of the alley cats tracked her down and seemed to comfort Dodo, and at the orphanage she got a few items to play with. Now Fritz is dead and Dodo is on the loose.
Equipment: Lead-pipe, three stress balls and a worn purse
Level: 1
Attribute: Focus
Skills:
Intimidation
Bestiary
Juggling
Affinity: Light
Gift: Dodo's gift is the ability to cause the surface area around her talons to function as a prism to create a bright display of all the colors in the visible spectrum. |
8,284 | 225 | 4 | 2,792 | 348 | Zahn stood in awe at the dying man, he could feel his life leaving the room. The feeling of death wasnt as much of a burden as the weight of loss and purposelessness. He stood there staring at the old mans mouth move, not hearing a single word, until the mouth ceased its movement and mary let out a shrill noise and started crying. Zahn quickly comforted her, putting an arm around her back and resting his head on her cheek. His ears twitched with every sob she let out, then the other children started up, You could tell this noise would cause problems with the neighbors. Surely they would come and try to silence the children themselves. Zahny stood up straight and turned to all the other kids.
"Shhhhhhh... Everyone I know this is a horrible thing but we need to keep our wits!" He strained his voice to be heard by the other kids. To no avail he turned to Mary thinking that she may be able to calm the kids. "Mary, We must quiet the others, they are much too loud, besides we all know that Fritz wouldnt want us to destroy everything he has done so soon after his passing. We must stay strong and thrive. Please, Mary, Help me and the rest of us be strong right now." He turned to the kids one last time then back to mary, unsure of what to do. Noticing kids already starting to leave the room and presumably the building to fend for themselves once more. Zahn hung his head in defeat. The task of making a creed of orphans to all work together to survive was an ambitious goal. But Zahn had made his mind, They will unite together and they will survive, They will all rise to the top no matter how long it took or how much was needed to do it. He turned to mary once more and leaned down next to her, "We must inspire the others to stick together and to thrive, not only survive. We need to prove ourselves and get out of dirt town. Are you with me?" | Name: Zahny (Z-on-e) Zahn is his last name (he thinks)
Age: 15
Appearance: Zahn looks like a human and a cat were in a compactor and he got spit out, He has all the qualities of a cat however he has all the joints of a human (e.i. He stands up straight and looks like a normal human in posture but he has the fur and facial features of a cat {and its tail for mid air balance} His coats color is a cosmic black with hints of purple and streaks of Gold that twist into crazy patterns all up and down his body.) He is super tall for his age with long, however not super skinny, almost healthy looking arms and legs, and standing a total of 6'1"
Gender: Male
Background: Zahn is very energetic and happy all the time, However he takes every bump in life as a challenge and when he fails he either he gets very pissed or super depressed. He thinks his name is Zahn because it is the only noise he could remember when he was rescued, thinking it must be his name some how it stuck. Zahn has been scraping by, by stealing food and the necessities for the longest time, fortunately being rescued by the orphanage. Since he has been at the orphanage he had worked a lot on his movement and agility keeping his thieving skills close at hand. When Fritz died Zahn went straight back to his thievery, providing for himself and others.
Equipment: A small dual bladed dagger that he stole as well as a stash of throwing knives and (throwing) nails. All of which is of course stollen
Level: 1
Attribute: Finesse
Skills: Acrobatics, sleight of hand, incredible vision
Affinity: Wind
Gift: He can manipulate his magic to help him jump and move faster or quieter even in mid air. |
8,285 | 225 | 5 | 2,493 | 48 | Sai
The Dirt Town Orphanage; Late Evening
Death had a a physical presence in the Dirt Town Orphanage and it weighed heavily on a certain young man. He was perched by Old Man Fritz's side with his usual passive and unimpressed face. Suppressing his feelings was more difficult that it ever was before. Watching the only role model and teacher he's ever had wither away like a parchment in a fire, a part of Sai withered away with him. His white knuckled hands gripped the edge of Fritz's bed sheets. Shadows danced fretfully upon the man's face from the single candle that lit the room. It looked like something out of a fucking horror novel, at least to Sai it did.
A nervous tic caused Sai to take his slender fingers and rake them through his hair, to the people close to him, this was one of the few tells that he was was actually in distress. Most of the littler ones saw him as an unemotional guardian of sorts, when they saw him react this way, they understood that this was the end. Every cough from the old man shook Sai to the core, he leaned close to hear the dying words of Old Man Fritz. It started with a warning, of the hard times to come. Which was true, Mr. Fritz was insanely strong and had kept them safe since Sai could remember. Sai rationalized that this death would probably shake the agreement of neutrality in Dirt Town. Soon enough they would have rival gangs fighting for domain over this territory. Their beloved home would probably be ravaged by ruthless killers who would either kill the remaining orphans or add them to their own ranks. Mr. Fritz talked about staying together but Sai was beginning to doubt that was even possible.
These kids were used to people not giving a shit about them, how was he or anyone else supposed to rally them? Even if they did manage that, were they even strong enough or smart enough to fend their home?
As Fritz took his last breath, hope seemed to leave with him as he traveled to the after life. Wails broke out in unison, cries of grief slammed his ears like a sludgehammer. Even Mary, the oldest of the kids, broke into heart-wrenching sobs. Sai's heart began to beat like a drum kit, sweat beaded along his forehead, his breathes became ragged. What was this? He needed out of this cramped place, this sadness was choking him. Sai couldn't tell because he was normally so good at staying calm, but he was experiencing his first ever panic attack. He staggered away from the bed and stumbled outside of the room into the hallway, gulping huge breaths of air.
Sai's bloodshot eyes looked up to see two other kids as his steps carried himself further away from the room, he needed to clear his head. What the hell had even happened back there? It was unbalancing to lose control of his emotions so easily like that, usually he was able to shut down and focus on what needed to be done in the moment but he had totally fallen apart. Maybe there were chinks in his facade after all...
Arriving just in time to hear Ansgar's joke, Sai's steps slowed until they finally stopped in front of the two others. He leaned against the wall to steady himself and attempted to regain control of his emotions once again. Maybe small talk was exactly what he needed, anything to get his mind off of that Old Man.
"If I didn't know better, I would suggest the amount of wailing and sobbing would be loud enough to wake the dead in there."
Sai exhaled sharply through his nose, not in the mood to laugh, but he at least wanted to acknowledge the attempt.
"They're probably rolling in their graves as we speak. If they keep it up we'll have gangs and the undead to deal with."
Sai was usually expressed a witty sort of humor that most people appreciated, but this time his voice was a little shaky and the joke kind of fell flat. Especially with the implication of gangs coming after them. But Mr. Fritz had been adamant about staying together, maybe he could convince the kids slowly and in small groups. With these thoughts revolving in his mind, he asked a hollow question.
"Do you think we have what it takes to work together with the Old Man gone now? It definitely wouldn't be easy to work with everyone, but if gangs start moving in and we're all fending for ourselves we're as good as fucked."
Sai wasn't sure why he was talking so much, maybe it was a diversionary tactic, but it wasn't seeming to help the situation. It was probably all falling in deaf ears anyways, seeing as he was talking to Senna and Ansgar. He never saw much of them, honestly. Senna was usually up to no good and Ansgar... well, Sai wasn't really sure what Ansgar was always up to.
Wiping his eyes and streaked face, Sai vowed to make Old Man Fritz's final request a reality. Even if he lost a few, even if they lost everything, he promised that he would do it for Fritz. In his death, he gave Sai a reason to keep fighting. And in this world, hope was so so important. So, Sai would embrace chaos and show everyone that his family had what it took to survive in this odd city of Yire Alba. | Name:
Sai
Age:
15
Gender:
Male
Background:
Self-assured and level-headed are the best words to describe Sai. Despite his seemingly angry face, he's normally quite relaxed and content. He isn't one to rush into anything and has a problem with being inside his head all of the time instead of enjoying the moment. Most of the other kids see him as the eye of the storm, always grounded in himself and his beliefs, with unwavering resolve. Being mature and independent had a lot to do with that, though, with no parents he had to learn to fend for himself pretty fast. Though Sai is not an extrovert by any means, he surprises some with wry and witty humor. He might open up more if he found people somewhat intriguing, but alas he finds most people to be boring and somewhat predictable. Even as an adolescent he's quite good at reading people. Despite his general view of people, he's very passionate about everyone in the Orphanage. Since he grew up with no real family or place to belong, the Orphanage gave him the strength and drive to want to succeed. In turn, he's come to care about everyone in the chaotic, dysfunctional group, especially Mr. Fritz.
Mr. Fritz found Sai at the Orphanage doorstep, the deserters long gone by the time his wails were noticed. Since he was a baby when he was abandoned, all he's ever known is Dirt Town. The Orphanage was the only family he's ever had, no matter how crazy things got. Mr. Fritz was the only father figure Sai had, and damn, had he looked up to him. Sai has always been the level-headed one, but he centered himself by modeling Fritz. As Mr. Fritz got older and weaker, concern creeped in. Will his ever-present equilibrium shatter upon the death of Fritz? Will he finally crack? Sai doesn't know the answer to these questions, but for once in his life, he might lose sight of his goals at the deathbed of his "father."
Equipment:
- A tanto he keeps sheathed horizontally on his lower back.
- A gold ring with a black gemstone set in it, found folded into the blankets he was swaddled in when he was found by Mr. Fritz. Sai will unconsciously rub it to center himself.
Level:
Level 1
Attribute:
Focus
Skills:
Parkour: Sai is able to gracefully move through his environment with precision and speed.
Analytical: Sai is adept at noticing the fine details and reading people. He tends to take things slow and read situations before reacting.
Eye of the Storm: It takes a lot to get Sai to act irrationally or impulsively. He's good in stressful situations and is usually unaffected by chaos and anarchy.
Affinity:
Dark
Gift:
Sai's gift manifested as teleportation. At this stage, his max range is 30 feet and he's also limited to only being able to teleport a couple times in a certain amount of time. Though his gift is simple, he utilizes it in a variety of ways, using it to gain advantageous positioning or catch people by surprise. |
8,286 | 225 | 6 | 2,033 | 9,320 | ~Senna~
Location: Main Hall, Dirt Town Orphanage
Upon hearing Ansgar's little joke, Senna let out a quiet chuckle, turning her gaze from the floorboard to the masked kid that stood before her. He had been one of the few kids she had never really messed with that much, though she had messed with a bit of his work every now and then.
"Oooh, I didn't know you had a sense of humor." She gave him a small grin, standing off of the wall a bit. "Thought you were the 'lacking all sense of humor' type of person. Glad I am wrong, heh~" Honestly, she had needed that laugh more than she'd let on. She was starting to get a little uneasy with her own thoughts when he and Sai decided to show up. At least she wasn't the only one who couldn't stand to be in there with the over emotional crying ones. Even Sai's shaky voice did little to phase the effectiveness of the joke for Sen. After all, being able to laugh about such things was a good trait, to her.
"Well, at least if we do have undead to deal with we could let them have the other gangs." Her voice trailed off, losing its usual mirth and taking a slightly more bitter tone as she continued. "Too bad miracles don't happen for little kiddos like us. Always have to do things the hard way just to get a decent meal." Her gaze turned back to the floor. "Stupid old man, croaking like that..." Her chosen words were harsh, but her tone of voice would have clearly told a different story. She couldn't keep thinking of him, no. It wouldn't do her nor anyone else any good.
"But stick together? Pfft," Senna continued, responding to Sai's words. "We have a better chance of actually raising the dead with those wails back there. I don't intend to stick around long - you guys know I'm not exactly a team player. We'll just make ourselves a bigger target if we bunch up like that. I don't fancy waking up to some other gangs knife in my neck. I did fine on my own before, so I'll do just that." Her words trailed off, ending with a somewhat playful hum as she studied Sai for a few silent seconds. She reached up to one of her longer horns, tracing along it until she came to one of the small charms hanging on them. "Unless you have some ideas, Sai hmm? I suppose I could be convinced to stick around a bit longer if you make it worth my while~" She took a few steps closer to the other kid and giving him a playful smile as she looked up to him, as her small wings fluttered in a somewhat curious fashion. "Got any big ideas in that pretty little head of yours?"
Honestly, she was hoping he said yes even if he didn't mean it. It'd certainly make her feel a lot better short term, at least. Didn't mean she'd stick around for long, of course, but she could at least come up with a more long term plan for herself. | The first thing one would notice about Sen, is her incredibly pale, almost snow white skin tone. The next, would likely be the six horns of varying length protruding from her head. Two, long bull like horns curve around her skull from just above her ears which have slight elfin points, with two smaller ones growing in just above them with a final, small two growing barely an inch from the top of her forehead. She has long, black hair typically not styled in any particular fashion and is usually left to hang listlessly. A pair of bat like wings extend from her spine, though they aren't large enough to allow for actual flight, though could aid one in a controlled glide.
The fifteen year old sports rather decorative clothing, and stands about 5'4", a good few inches taller than the others of her age with a skirt and long stockings and platform boots adorning her feet. She has yellow colored eyes with cat like slits for pupils, and her horns don a few charms of unknown make and purpose. She comments they're only there for cosmetic effect. One should not mistake her for some delicate wallflower or other not so physically inclined person. Senna could likely give a few full grown men a run for their money in terms of strength, and her slender, toned body gives away that much at least.
Name:
Senna
Age:
15
Gender:
Female.
Background:
As far as Sen's personality goes, she's a troublesome sort and incredibly fickle most of the time. One moment she might be your best friend, the next she's liable to throw you under the bus if it something inconvenient for her or she grows bored of someone. She might be set on revenge one moment, and then decide to get all friendly with them later - with no intent for betrayal. Really, it just depends on her mood and how she feels at the moment. Generally though, she is fairly flirtatious and promiscuous in her mannerisms, and never shows open hostility towards anyone and treats most people with a fairly friendly demeanor. Of course, one should be wary of her affection of any sort and always take her words and loyalties with a grain of salt.
As she says - "Heh? What, me? Everyone's loyalties lie somewhere. Mine is to myself, and myself only. If I can get ahead by being friendly, I'll do it. If It'll serve me better to shank all of you guys in a dark alley...well, heh. I think it's obvious."
That said, she's not one for random stabbings or betrayals for giggles. One shouldn't have to worry too much about her fickle nature getting in the way of things unless the pros greatly outweigh the cons. Of course, this is only because she values long term partners higher than possibly temporary allies - basically meaning people she could manipulate to an extent with a little clever wording or other such things. Getting her to be completely on the side of any permanent cause, is going to be incredibly difficult, but in the unlikely event that you do have it, you would be surprised at the lengths she might go to repay a debt or help those she might care for.
Has somewhat refined tastes, and would love nothing more than to live in the lap of luxury through any means possible. She very rarely is angry or upset and tries to find humor in everything, but one should be careful of her temper.
Background:
Honestly, Senna has no real idea of her origins. As far as she remembers she was tossed out on the streets at a fairly early age - too young to even remember anything aside from her name, a thing she clung to as her only real possession for a fairly long time. Living on the streets wasn't exactly all that easy, but she managed well enough by showing some of the people around her who was boss and who could outsmart them. She quickly learned how to handle herself in quite a number of brawls, as while she liked to consider herself highly intelligent such things bored her to no extent. She needed things to get the blood flowing, to watch someones cranium implode while she smacked it. For a kid, she was perhaps fairly similar to what her appearance might have suggested, but without anything else to turn to, how could one survive if they didn't cut down the competition?
When Fritz found her, she was half beaten from a brawl and nearly dead when asked about what happened, all she'll comment is that she got out a lot better than those piss for brains, and 'their heads are gonna look reeeeal nice on that fence' She decided to stick around for awhile, see what this whole thing was about and decided to stay at the orphanage for awhile with the other kids.
Equipment:
The only weapons she needs are her fists legs, and gauntlets of stone.
Level:
1
Attribute:
Force
Skills:
Intelligence:
One might mistake Sen for a simple brute that likes to punch her way through everything. Well, they are mostly right. She doesn't have time to really finesse things too much. However, she greatly enjoys brain teasers and considers herself at least above average in the IQ department. She often likes to play chess in her spare time. Though, perhaps 'Clever and Resourceful' might be a better descriptor here. She is by no means going to be outsmarting any scholarly sort, since books and such things bore her to no end.
Manipulative:
Either through more friendly means or less such means, Sen has a surprising way with words when it comes to speaking. Where she picked this up from no one is quite sure, but she comments that sometimes brute force isn't enough, and perhaps a honeyed tongue and playing ones cards right with certain people could easily get one better results. Pitting people against each other and watching delightfully from the sidelines.
Cooking:
In a fairly surprising turn of events, one might find Senna is fairly talented in the cooking department and gets quite agitated if she's cooking and someone interrupts her or messes her up. If you are one of these fools who interrupts her, you won't be having a skull left after she's done with you.
Affinity:
Earth
Gift:
Senna's gift is fairly simple. It allows her to make stone gauntlets out of the earth itself. It is very simple in function, but fairly useful. Aside from enhancing her punches they are also sturdy enough to be able to deflect some blows and things. While perhaps not impressive as some other gifts currently, in time with a little training it would likely grow into something much more effective. |
8,287 | 225 | 7 | 818 | 1,349 | Fritz’s Room, Dirt Town Orphanage
Nim stood off against one of the walls of the room, watching carefully from the shadows. She wasn’t the type that liked to be right up with the crowds of other people. As much as she would have liked to see Fritz before he passed, or even as he did, it hadn’t been worth pushing through the other children. Now that they were wailing? Definitely not.
It wasn’t that Nim wasn’t sad. Tears ran down her cheeks, her emotions clearly readable for once. She was still only eleven and unlike some of the older kids didn’t need to keep up appearances and didn’t care that anyone would see her crying (though she was hidden well enough). She wasn’t about to break her normal quietness by wailing, however. That just seemed futile. Fritz was dead and it wasn’t going to bring him back.
She wasn’t looking forward to being on the streets again. It was undoubtedly what would end up happening – as young as she may be she knew the gangs wouldn’t respect this area as an orphanage anymore. The streets would probably be safer than just staying here.
Nim noticed one of the older orphans speaking to Mary, Zahn if she recalled correctly, and strained to hear what he was saying over the wailing of the young children. When she couldn’t catch more than a word she shrugged, giving up. It was time to leave the room anyway, she was beginning to feel just a little bit on edge with so many people around.
Keeping to the edge of the room Nim made it to the door and slipped out, still staying in the shadows. Outside she found three more of the older children and moved slightly closer to them – to listen to what they were saying, trying to stay unnoticed. It wasn’t that she was feeling particularly nosy but if they managed to organise themselves, or even any of the others, she’d tag along.
As much as she may not love other people’s company Nim knew it would be better for her to stick with others. | Name: Nim
Age:11
Gender: Female
Background: Nim has vague memories of having parents, and knows that she ended up on the street by the time she was 5 – but she cannot remember how or why. Her parents might be dead, or may have abandoned her. She knows she was old enough to survive. She doesn't remember what her parents called her, but adopted the name Nim as it's part of the word nimble - and she's pretty nimble. As it is for everyone Nim’s life on the street was difficult – but she fell in with a small group of other kids. In fact she got a bit of a reputation with them for being faster, and nimbler, than all the others which meant she was perfect for stealing. Indeed she found she was quite good at this. She lived on the streets this way for a while. It wasn’t until she slipped up, almost caught in the act, that things got more tough – stealing from a gang member wasn’t the smartest idea. It was while on the run that she was found by Fritz and taken in to the orphanage.
Nim is a quiet and somewhat withdrawn child. It is not that she is shy, because she certainly is not, just that she prefers to observe and not talk. Indeed she always seems to be watching – even if it’s inappropriate. Not that she knows when it’s not okay to just stare at something. She is untrusting, though most kids who lived on the streets are, and unlikely to just easily become friends with someone. While independent she wouldn’t necessarily choose to strike out on her own if it more sensible to stay with others. She also won’t take leadership, but won’t bend easily to the wills of others. Nim is aloof from others, and is difficult to read (by design). Nim certainly isn’t cold hearted, but she isn’t the kindest person either.
Equipment: Two knives, a few pins
Level: 1
Attribute: Finesse
Skills: Observant: Nim is good at noticing things that others don’t due to watching people, and her surroundings, carefully. This means that she might notice when something is amiss earlier than others or a small detail of someone’s facial expression. She would be more likely to notice someone pulling out a knife, say.
Theft: Due to being fast, and nimble, and living on the streets Nim is quite good at stealing. She mostly pickpocketed but also stole from shops and similar. She still practice stealing at the orphanage (but always put things back) just to make sure that she doesn’t get out of practice.
Climbing: Nim is good at climbing, enjoying scaling walls and just being in tall places. It lets her see more and is also handy for a quick getaway. Often she’ll be found climbing into various small spaces in the orphanage, using it as a way to find places to hide.
Affinity: Dark
Gift: Nim’s gift is basically shadow manipulation, though currently to a simple degree. If she is in a shadowed place she can use shadows to allow her to blend in, essentially using the shadows to coat and hide herself – and if she is close enough to a shadow she can extend it towards her. |
8,288 | 225 | 8 | 1,274 | 608 | Thames tapped rhythmically at the side of his trousers with his right index finger. Every six taps the minute hand of his pocket watch ticked up by one minute. He stared, watching mostly quietly at Mr. Fritz who began what were very much his last words, as spoken of by himself. Concepts of things such as "future" were a trivial matter to Thames. After all, his dominion was over time itself! Little did he care for what this man had said. Indeed, when he finally passed, in spite of emotions running high in the room, Thames looked toward the decrepit corpse of the old man and the girl crying over him, feeling no more worsened by such turn of events. Thames had never taken the man for granted. After all, Mr. Fritz was the first human being he had spoken to ever as far as he could remember. Sentimentality, however, was not something Thames cared too much about.
Thames's eyes wandered around the room, not wanting to focus so much on the dead body. The first person he noticed was Senna, who Thames had always regarded as a crazy person. Judging by her pent up body language and her facial expression, the particular positioning of her muscles as seen by Thames, she was evidently angry.
The next person was Ansgar. Thames always hated him, though he could never really fathom any particular reason as to why. He hadn't expressed it openly, though had many a time "accidentally" left an ice cube or two out of his drink, or left a particular spot uncleaned if he knew Ansgar was the next person to clean after him. This was not out of spite though, at least not as far as Thames was concerned.
"Oh. And they're talking to one another." Thames grimaced, wanting to spit if there weren't so many people around, instead swallowing his saliva as he watched scornfully as the two interacted with one another. When a third person; Sai, who Thames also disliked; joined in the conversation, he looked away, not wanting them to drag him in as well.
After them, his focus was turned to the distinct cawing noise which he had associated with Dodo, who like Senna, Thames believed to be a crazy person, though for different reasons. Even if he had the mind to approach her, she had already left the building. Thames rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if she'd have anything substantial to say anyways.
Then, starting a commotion, Zahn. For whatever reason, he felt the need to rally everybody together as if his words had any weight to them. Thames certainly didn't care. Thames didn't quite like this person either. He thought him stuck up. Plus, Thames didn't like cats. He always thought them unnerving and disliked the way they glared, and Zahn was certainly cat-like, up to his pompous attitude.
Nim was not someone Thames ever bothered with, in fact he had hardly even bothered to remember her name. After all, time was a precious thing for Thames and he didn't want to waste it on such a person.
The boy, not wanting to be in the room any more, fled quietly through the window, the same place that Dodo had made her exit though in a different manner. Thames, after all, didn't have all the handy bird features at his disposal. Using his powers, he slowed his fall enough to grab onto a pole, turning around it burn off the extra energy before dropping to the ground.
"Hmph" he thought, hands in his pockets as he wandered off in search of nothing in particular. | Name: Thames
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Background: At the start of his life, Thames could not remember the reassuring touch of his mother or father not could he remember any warm words spoken by them. From the beginning, all that Thames could remember hearing was an incessant ticking at the back of his head. Indeed, Thames was born among machinery and raised by clockwork constructs which fed, bathed, and clothed him until he was old enough to do these things himself and the constructs had eventually broke down when Thames was aged eight. At that year, he didn't have the ability to fix these machines, almost starving to death until being taken in by an orphanage where he lived the rest of his life. There, Thames worked on building machines, tinkering with watches in order to practice until he could work on larger machinery. At the age of ten, Thames manifested his abilities, though were unsure exactly of how to use them, simply because they appeared weak and their effects were subtle at best. When he finally realized what he was doing, he was fourteen.
Equipment: Apart from his clothing, Thames also carries around a pocket watch, a set of keys to a house which may or may not be torn down, and a watch repair kit.
Level: 1.
Attribute: Fluid
Skills: Machine Repair, History, Perceptiveness
Affinity: Wind
Gift: Thames possesses the power of limited time dilation. At will, everything in an immediate area of Thames experiences time differently from everything else around him. For the most part, he speed up time around himself so that he personally can appear to be moving faster, actually experiencing time at a slower rate than everything around him. He can also slow himself down, making himself experience things faster, giving him more leeway to react to incoming objects. Of course, all of this could be construed simply as super speed and everything in regards to time may be completely made up. |
8,289 | 225 | 9 | 729 | 2,152 | -Ansgar-
It seemed that either Senna's sense of humor was as off as his was apparently, or perhaps it was a necessary evil, given the oppressiveness and general dark mood that seemed to be around the place right now. Understandable, given the situation, but certainly a dark mood none the less. Ansgar, lacking the ability to utilize facial expressions to respond, seemed to shrug idly, head cocking slightly to his left with his response following, blank as ever. "Those that lose their ability to laugh, even in the face of grim truth, have lost their ability to fight. To laugh, is to be unbeaten yet. To answer, though, it is a rare humor for a rare situation, no harm assuming no such thing was around." Whether that was an indirect jab at the sharp exhale from the approaching boy, Sai he suspected the name was if memory served him well, or a more general statement was well and truly up to interpretation. However, things would present a rather interesting train of thought, brought up despite the flirting manner that Senna decided to engage Sai with. While thankful such attention was not on him, distracting as it no doubt was, thought continued none the less.
Both of them brought up good points, in their own regards. Larger group did mean a larger target, to put it in a shorter set of words. Yet, he recalled an old phrase he had heard at one point. United we stand, divided we are conquered. Opposing arguments, pushing for greater purchase in his mind. Certainly, it would be easier to cut and run, go their separate ways and defy the wishes of the dead. Yet, such things, he had this feeling, would not bode well for those defiant in regards to that mentioned wish. So he had his options, run and try to make ends meet on his own, or stand his ground and see what happened. The gangs would be descending soon, intent on scavenging anything worth a damn before leaving the rest to rot. Focusing on the problems of now were good, he could put off his guilt and regret for a more appropriate time. Right now, he needed to focus on a plan. Whether that was stand with the orphans, or cut and run like Senna had suggested, was yet to be seen. He was, as they say, on the fence regarding the matter. Both had their merits, and their flaws, and had to be treated as such.
"Though indirect, she makes a valid point. Not all of those here are team players, and even those that are may prove to be less than useful. Whether we work together well or not, has nothing to do with anything except the will to do it. And that is in dangerously low amounts, Old Man Fritz's passing saw to that. It will take either charisma, or good manipulation." Ansgar had gone into thinking mode, fully shutting away his emotions now that he had a problem to work with. Part of the reason he held himself so needlessly high in regards to maturity, in comparison to many, was his thinking. Always working, always learning, couldn't be acting like a child then, right? Thinking on those present, having missed their hidden listener due to his own thinking train going far too fast, he could see both Sai and Senna leading. The former, willingness and, possibly, determination enough to see this done. The latter, manipulation, she was a trickster as far as he understood, and decieving and conning people took either talent in charisma, to pull the wool down, or manipulation to make them believe the wool. Both ways would work, and he brought it up idly, as part of his looking at the problem.
"First issue, leadership. Likely needs to be an older orphan, more experience and all that. Two approaches, deception or charisma. Brute force won't work with either, forcing heart broken kids won't be easy. Might make them more easily controlled though, especially if results are accomplished or promised. I would guess either of you two could pull off leading, or if anyone is trying to organize that screaming mess back there, if they succeed, could do it too. Besides that, how we intend to make ends meet. I am not aware of how the Old Man funded this, but we will need to either keep funding this place, or find someplace new to squat." With the thinking and considerations, Ansgar drummed the handle of his cane with two fingers, tapping out a steady rhythm while he thought. Where it would go, well, it would depend on how the others bothered reacting to his thinking out loud, as it were, and burn the bridges from there. | Name: Ansgar
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Background:
As far as Ansgar knows, he has always been at the Orphanage with Old Man Fritz leading the way, not to say that Ansgar always got along terribly well with his caretakers. Not to say he disliked the old man, not by any stretch, but the boy always preferred his own methods and flexibility towards happenings, unwittingly taking after his biological father, who's fate was hidden from the boy. Despite being told little and growing up alongside other orphans, Ansgar knew things were awry. He never seemed to excel in any field he applied himself to, unlike many of his peers, yet never seemed to be abnormally weak either. However, two key things seemed to drive him, and prevented him from leaving the Orphanage since he was convinced of his ability to do so already, despite his early years. As such, he tended to hold himself to a standard of maturity above his peers, wearing a mask of hand crafted design to hide himself, from what was as much of a guessing game as anyone could guess. Yet, every morning he had not left, despite mutterings during arguments or disagreements of having no good reason to remain.
Despite the stand offish nature, Ansgar will go and help those around him, often times tending to clothing, injuries, or miscellaneous things that seem to be often forgotten. He prefers to keep himself busy, oddly focused on work for his age, keeping himself focused on one task or another. During his free time, he often practices his Gift, or his needlework, repairing his clothing or mask with needle and thread. Quite the busy body and needlessly serious, are two very good ways to describe the lad. What humor most do hear from him is often an early form of gallows humor, poking fun at things that really, really are not funny at all, which creates dubious amounts of response from peers. He does mean well by it, it just rarely comes across as such.
Equipment: Sturdy old Cane, personal locket, sewing kit (needles, thread, bobby pins, small rusty scissors)
Level: 1
Attribute: Fluid
Skills:
Intuitive - Ansgar is not necessarily the smartest person in the world, some might even mock him for being below average. However, what no one can argue is that he has a natural knack for feeling out a situation or problem with people, not literally mind you, and just seems to know things at times, though the explanation of such is often beyond him. Deception seems to not be as effective as average, Ansgar picking up on tells on an instinctive level, and either calling them out on it or otherwise not bothering to believe a word coming out of their mind.
Dexterous - When it comes to fine motor skills, whether it be needle work or handling delicate materials, Ansgar has a naturally precise, steady hand. The lad seems to take a great deal of pride in his deft, steady handiwork, even when it is benign or otherwise simple things such as stitching up someone's torn clothes or putting together a broken toy. He even has some basic locks figured out, enjoying the challenge of getting into places he should not be rather than merely trying to get into places he isn't allowed for ulterior motives. Often times, he confirms he has it unlocked and leaves it, much to the chagrin of any who have found their things unlocked but undisturbed. Mostly others who also don't have terribly sturdy locks.
Slippery - Not in a literal sense mind you, but in a figurative manner. Ansgar is hard to pin down, and harder to catch when he doesn't want to be. He has this way of worming his way out of someone's grasp, evading others that try to catch him at games, and just seems to be right infuriating to catch. This is further compounded by his intuition, which leads him to instinctively avoiding trouble he is trying to evade, ducking and dodging when others are getting grabbed. To be fair, he has no qualms with brisk cheap shots to unmentionable areas to get out of someone's grasp, but who's counting, honestly?
Affinity: Water
Gift:
Ansgar has a knack for mending the wounds of others, but not in the traditional method of focusing himself on the injury and closing the wound. Rather, he finds himself able to manipulate blood, specifically the water content of blood, his own most naturally but, if he were to lay hands on someone else right now, he could tweak their blood. Most of the time, he can convince blood, whether his or that of someone within his grasp, to be more cooperative towards the healing process, not so eagerly rushing away from its container or aiding in the binding process more easily. He could theoretically do some damage with this, or even reach out farther, but for now, he is limited to one person at a time, and they have to be within his reach. |
8,290 | 225 | 10 | 315 | 290 | Outside of the building, Dodo kept flapping her wings just to provide enough momentum to stay a few paces above the ground below; perhaps this action was done for the reasons of a better view. Or perhaps the reason was to get prepared for the hunting of small prey animals. Maybe this was in case the lamentations were loud enough other gangsters were aware of Fritz's death and Dodo would already be prepared to escape. Or quite possibly just because it was either fun or just natural to be in flight. No matter what the reason was Dod was currently in flight.
The first course of action would of course be scouting the perimeter of the nest Fritz built. Dodo circled around the orphanage looking mostly for any new significant trash piles or traces of activities from any vermin. After two cycles of this Dodo flew up to the top of the orphanage and perched itself on its roost. Extending her right talon over the edge Dodo activated her power to bring some light to illuminate a view down below. | Name: Dodo
Age: 12
Gender: Female
Background: The birth of Dodo was an event that was surely remembered by the parents and the midwife or doctor that delivered her. It made sense that Dodo was quickly abandoned alone in Dirt Town. This baby was reported to have been raised by a group of alley cats and pigeons, which helps explain Dodo's very odd communication habits, and the feral and predatorial front she presents to others.The abomination which showed that the universe clearly did not care about the fate of its inhabitants for the most part lived her life helping her adoptive family of pigeons and alley cats obtain food and protecting them from the wild packs of dogs. During one of the trash dives for food she was discovered by Fritz, who had to drag her to the orphanage while she was kicking and resisting. However she somewhat adapted to the orphanage as a few of the alley cats tracked her down and seemed to comfort Dodo, and at the orphanage she got a few items to play with. Now Fritz is dead and Dodo is on the loose.
Equipment: Lead-pipe, three stress balls and a worn purse
Level: 1
Attribute: Focus
Skills:
Intimidation
Bestiary
Juggling
Affinity: Light
Gift: Dodo's gift is the ability to cause the surface area around her talons to function as a prism to create a bright display of all the colors in the visible spectrum. |
8,291 | 225 | 11 | 2,493 | 48 | Sai
The Dirt Town Orphanage; Late Evening
The responses to his questions were about as good as he could expect. Things looked grim but he wasn't one to just sit down and take it. He could bluff the confidence that he would do fine on his own but doubt had creeped in the recesses of his mind. Sai would be damned if he had to resort to petty stealing and being homeless in order to survive, that wasn't really living. No matter how well he got along with everyone, personal emotions had to be set aside so that they could pull this shipwreck back together. Mind you, they were knee deep in water and had no method of bailing themselves out, Old Man Fritz had made sure of that.
Senna pointed this out quickly, not everyone would be willing to cooperate. So it goes, he was sure not everyone would stick around, which is understandable. Staying together required putting faith in each other and those who led, a hard task indeed.
"But stick together? Pfft, we have a better chance of actually raising the dead with those wails back there. I don't intend to stick around long - you guys know I'm not exactly a team player. We'll just make ourselves a bigger target if we bunch up like that. I don't fancy waking up to some other gangs knife in my neck. I did fine on my own before, so I'll do just that."
Sai wasn't surprised to hear her say that, Senna was about as independent a 15 year old could be. He could understand where she was coming from, though he wasn't so sure he could do the same. Yes, he had the skills necessary, but he respected this place too much to leave. He didn't want to disrespect Old Man Fritz's final request, even though he was dead and could do nothing about the future. Fritz had done so much for all of them, it felt like the least Sai could do was honor his wishes. And what about all the little kids? They couldn't defend themselves, how could he just leave them to Mary and hope for the best?
Sai was relieved when she asked if he had any ideas to offer, looking up at him with a smile, curiosity, and maybe a little hope? He opened his mouth to offer his ideas when Ansgar interjected, Sai just smiled slightly and wistfully dwelled on the fact that this was the most he had ever heard the boy speak at one time.
Ansgar presented some good thoughts, though somber in nature, brutally honest. Exactly what he needed right now, lies or sugar coating would help no one.
"You're completely right, this won't be easy in the slightest... but hear me out." Sai took a breath to center himself, once again nervously combing his hair with humble fingers. Tufts of his dark hair began sticking up in odd directions, not that he cared.
"I don't know about you guys, but if everyone just abandons this place, the little ones are as good as dead. Mary, no matter how determined she is, won't have a chance at protecting those kids. I just - I can't walk out on people when I know we have the skills to keep this place going. It'll be rough, obviously, but I'd rather go to tough times with the people I grew up with, then struggle all alone. Ansgar you talked about either Senna or I leading but... Why not both of us? Who said only one person has to lead? If the majority works together, and I know some won't, we can keep this place going. But I think moving would be too difficult, we'd probably end up losing a little bugger or two...
Sai paused a moment, noticing more people leave Fritz's room, a few leaving the temple immediately, probably never coming back too. He noticed Thames was one of them, and he sent a silent thanks to the Gods, he had always seen that kid as stuck up. Pulling his thoughts back together he continued.
"We might as well give it a shot, and if things go bad we can all just split. Not like we have much to lose... The only hard part is going to be convincing those little fuckers." Sai offered them both a genuine smile, relaxed nature once again back in place. Thinking always calmed himself down, it was good to have goals to strive towards. | Name:
Sai
Age:
15
Gender:
Male
Background:
Self-assured and level-headed are the best words to describe Sai. Despite his seemingly angry face, he's normally quite relaxed and content. He isn't one to rush into anything and has a problem with being inside his head all of the time instead of enjoying the moment. Most of the other kids see him as the eye of the storm, always grounded in himself and his beliefs, with unwavering resolve. Being mature and independent had a lot to do with that, though, with no parents he had to learn to fend for himself pretty fast. Though Sai is not an extrovert by any means, he surprises some with wry and witty humor. He might open up more if he found people somewhat intriguing, but alas he finds most people to be boring and somewhat predictable. Even as an adolescent he's quite good at reading people. Despite his general view of people, he's very passionate about everyone in the Orphanage. Since he grew up with no real family or place to belong, the Orphanage gave him the strength and drive to want to succeed. In turn, he's come to care about everyone in the chaotic, dysfunctional group, especially Mr. Fritz.
Mr. Fritz found Sai at the Orphanage doorstep, the deserters long gone by the time his wails were noticed. Since he was a baby when he was abandoned, all he's ever known is Dirt Town. The Orphanage was the only family he's ever had, no matter how crazy things got. Mr. Fritz was the only father figure Sai had, and damn, had he looked up to him. Sai has always been the level-headed one, but he centered himself by modeling Fritz. As Mr. Fritz got older and weaker, concern creeped in. Will his ever-present equilibrium shatter upon the death of Fritz? Will he finally crack? Sai doesn't know the answer to these questions, but for once in his life, he might lose sight of his goals at the deathbed of his "father."
Equipment:
- A tanto he keeps sheathed horizontally on his lower back.
- A gold ring with a black gemstone set in it, found folded into the blankets he was swaddled in when he was found by Mr. Fritz. Sai will unconsciously rub it to center himself.
Level:
Level 1
Attribute:
Focus
Skills:
Parkour: Sai is able to gracefully move through his environment with precision and speed.
Analytical: Sai is adept at noticing the fine details and reading people. He tends to take things slow and read situations before reacting.
Eye of the Storm: It takes a lot to get Sai to act irrationally or impulsively. He's good in stressful situations and is usually unaffected by chaos and anarchy.
Affinity:
Dark
Gift:
Sai's gift manifested as teleportation. At this stage, his max range is 30 feet and he's also limited to only being able to teleport a couple times in a certain amount of time. Though his gift is simple, he utilizes it in a variety of ways, using it to gain advantageous positioning or catch people by surprise. |
8,292 | 225 | 12 | 589 | 2,821 | Luca
Below the commotion of tears and loud discussion between the eldest orphans, the small and sickly Luca sat down on the grimy floor. His eyes were shut pensively, as were his quivering lips, giving the albino boy an appearance like pure white. He clutched his flask, a steel thing covered in scuffs and dents, tightly in his thin fingers, holding it close to his chest. He thought sometimes that even if he didn't drink the elixir within, just having it close might give him a modicum of strength.
Despite the room crowded with orphans like himself, Luca felt utterly alone. He had never known family besides Fritz, and though he was not the only foundling in the orphanage, he could not take the idea of solidarity with them as a comfort. They had their own strength to rely on; Luca was completely dependent on others to survive. He was a bright boy, and his mind worked quickly, but that sometimes meant that it traveled to dark places. Luca thought to himself that he would soon prove to be a burden to the rest, and that they would rid themselves of him when their goodwill ran thin.
Luca's eyes cracked open to glance about the room, his blood-red irises shimmering as tears welled up. Blinking them away, ruby tears slowly trickled over his cheeks, giving him the appearance that he was crying blood. This was not unusual for him, as the older orphans would already be aware, and was likely another benign effect of his illness. Luca sometimes thought that his own body mocked him with these peculiarities.
Like an icicle at the back of Luca's skull, a voice whispered into his mind, "It is only you and I now, Luca." The voice had all the malice of a thousand daggers poised to strike. "Accept their good will while they offer it. When the times comes that they will no longer keep you, I shall guard you." Luca thought, as he always did when this unseen entity came to him, to question its identity. "I shall be both father and mother to you. Teacher and priest. Shield and sword. Angel and demon." With that, the voice said nothing more.
Luca's tears had run dry by now, and he wiped the red wetness from his cheeks, which streaked across his pale face like watery paint on a canvas. "We need a guardian." Luca said in his small, wavering voice. "None of us are strong enough, but strength can be bought. Fritz is not dead to everyone yet. Where are his friends? His debtors? Reap what we can, then bargain with someone else. Should buy us some time." | Name: Luca
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Background: The knowledge of how Luca came to the orphanage is known by no one other than Fritz, who refused to speak on the subject, even to Luca himself. All that is known is that Luca came to the orphanage as a small babe, and the secrets of his origins beyond that have now died with the old man. Luca grew up as a sickly child, the Taint inflicting him with a sickness of the blood, and would have quickly died on the streets if Fritz had not taken him in. Perhaps in spite of his frail body, Luca proved to be a startlingly intelligent boy as he grew up, learning to read before he could walk, and spending much time taking apart his few toys and reassembling them into clever configurations. Given his physical weakness and shy temperament, Luca was much a much-protected "little brother" among the children of the orphanage, even those younger than him, many of whom he taught to read or built fanciful toys for. While the children he was raised alongside understand Luca's moods and eccentricities, his stoic and sometimes disconcerting demeanor can come across as disturbing or alien to those unfamiliar with him. This is far from intentional, as Luca is merely a sheltered boy who is clumsy at best in social encounters.
Equipment: Luca has a basic collection of pilfered tinker's tools, and a knapsack full of half-finished contraptions, as well as various bits and gubbins. Kept close to him is Luca's most valued possession: a metal flask filled with a curative medicinal elixir, from which small sips can quickly restore his strength when it flags. He has no reliable source of refilling his flask, and so only drinks from it when he direly needs his body to not fail him.
Level: 1
Attribute: Focus
Skills: Luca is alarmingly intelligent for a boy his age, to an extent that can surprise and unnerve many adults. He is quick-witted and observant, and has a memory like a steel trap. While he is not the most eloquent when expressing his thoughts and ideas, the children he was raised alongside understand him well enough.
Something of an amateur engineer or inventor, Luca has a deft mind for things of a mechanical nature. With skillful fingers and a sharp eye, he disassemble or construct small tools or contraptions with startling speed. While most of his experience stems from scrapping together silly toys and complex contraptions for the entertainment of the other children in the orphanage. His skills in more complex forms of engineering are limited by his (lack of) education, but he is eager to learn all he can and further develop his talent, which he views as a fun and engaging hobby.
Much to the amazement of his peers, Luca is also rather talented at slight of hand. Books, tools, and parts do not come cheaply, and Luca is no stranger to picking a pocket or two to acquire a few coins to rub together. Given his frail body, running from an attempt at theft gone poorly was never an option, and so he was forced to get good quickly. Similarly, his nimble fingers and knowledge of mechanics are easily put to use in picking locks, an act Luca sees as nothing more than solving a puzzle.
Affinity: Dark
Gift: At times, Luca hears whispers from an entity that he cannot otherwise sense. It tells him secrets about people or places around him, usually at times when that information is critical or pivotal. On rare occasions, the whispers reply to Luca's thoughts as though he were speaking them aloud, and has demonstrated a playful personality, and a mentor-like attitude toward Luca himself, but is otherwise quite cruel and openly malicious. Luca does not know the name of this entity or anything else about it, but its whispers have always rung true, and any questions about its identity (that it deigns to answer) are met with taunting promises that Luca will learn such things later. |
8,293 | 225 | 13 | 1,529 | 520 | Asylum Island, late evening
Dodo
Everything seems normal to you from your vantage point. You could still see people scurrying around here and there on the island, but that was nothing strange - there were taverns on the island which were open through the entire night, and some people were returning from their work in other parts of the Dirt Town. Still, the activity was dying down as the whole island was slowly going to sleep.
Beyond the island, looking at the rest of the Dirt Town, you could see hundreds of lights coming from various sources. Here and there you could also see fires, which made you appreciate the fact that you lived on an island, safe from any possibility that they might spread to your home. Even further on the horizon you could see tall spires and glow of the Yire Island, with the Tower standing by far the tallest. It was a place you have never been to and could only occasionally gaze upon from the distance like this.
So far, everything was peaceful, except for the muffled cries of the children in the orphanage bellow. It was barely able to reach your ears, so you could assume that the rest of the island couldn’t hear it. Old man Fritz’s passing went unnoticed by the world, for now.
Mary
Mary is not a strong person. She could take care of the children, she could cook, she could wash the children’s clothes and the dishes and clean the building the Orphanage was located in, but asking her to be a leader, to be decisive when lives are at stake, to be able to pick the most optimal of many choices, that is asking for too much.
Shaken by Fritz’s death and fearful of the future, anyone who could come and appear as the solid pillar of support would’ve taken Mary’s loyalty. Unfortunately, Zahny’s call to action was not enough to give her any hope and Mary first response to it was pessimism. At least other children calmed down a little at his words.
“W-we can’t leave the Dirt Town,” she spoke while wiping tears from her eyes. “Outside is even m-more dangerous, Grandpa Fritz told me. There are always some armies clashing and bandits would gladly capture us all and sell us to slavery.”
At that point Luca made his own suggestion and Mary’s eyes widened. Of course, find a guardian! Find someone to protect them, just like the old man did. But who in the Dirt Town would do that? Hardly anyone would burden themselves with the fate of some 30 orphans if they had nothing to gain out of it.
“I-I don’t know if Grandpa Fritz had any friends outside of the Asylum Island… And most of our finances are contributions from the people on the island.” They all know who they can thank for the relative peace that is present here.
She paused for a few moments to think.
“Instead of waiting to be attacked by the gangs, maybe we can pre-empt them and ask the gang we think is the lesser evil for protection?” | Name: Mary, Big sister
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Background: As long as any other orphan can remember, Mary has been in the orphanage. She is one of the first if not the first child old man Fritz took under his wing. Maybe she was the one who inspired him to take up such a philanthropic calling. Regardless, she was always there and she served as a big sister to the rest of the children.
Equipment: Nothing in particular.
Level: 1
Attribute: Fluid
Skills: Cooking, Cleaning, Child-rearing.
Affinity: Earth
Gift: None. Her magic power is too weak. |
8,294 | 225 | 14 | 2,033 | 9,320 | ~Senna~
Location: Main Hall, Dirt Town Orphanage
Tsk. They didn't really seem to have much of a good plan for now, did they? Ansgar made fairly valid points, especially when it came in regards to funding. Though, she was a fan of just taking what they needed. After all, that was what everyone in Yire Alba did anyways so why change it? Not that they really had much of a lot of to work with if they did though...really, as far as she could see this place was a lost cause anyway she looked at it. She was just about to tell Sai that she could care less about the other people here. She wasn't the bleeding heart type - that sort of behavior tended to get you killed.
Of course, then Sai made a rather interesting proposal about leadership.
Senna had never really considered herself a leader by any means. In fact, she was the exact opposite of a good leader. Oh sure, she entertained the idea of it quite often. It'd be amusing to see just how many things people would let her get away with just because she could use the title of 'leader'. Truthfully, she'd be terrible at it and she knew it. Playing king just had too many actual responsibilities and she objectively was a terrible person. The sort of person who'd pick a fight with someone just because she was bored, or steal candy from a baby then proceed to eat the candy right in front of the baby then tell said baby he was adopted.
She didn't want to be a leader of any kind because of it - she'd rather be the Kings mistress that he doted on and gave all of his shiny things too, so to speak. All the power, without the responsibilities! But you know, being the little Queen Bee could be fun for a time. Granted she was likely going to be the tyrant sort of queen bee, but details details.
"Me? Lead?" She laughed. "Why, that is a wonderful idea!" Little wings fluttered playfully behind her. "Yes, let me lead a bunch of little kiddies! I'm sure they'd love being led around by the girl who put spiders in their bed while they were sleeping and hot sauce in their food just for giggles." The girls smile faded a bit, though her cheerful demeanor didn't.
"Alright, you've caught my attention." Senna continued. "But I need to be upfront with you - I could care less about 'those little fuckers' in there. The only people here I cared about were Fritz and maybe Mary. The only reason I'd consider sticking around and leading these guys is because," She held up a hand and started counting on her fingers. "One, I can boss 'em around for giggles, and Two, more fodder between me and the other gangs." She poked Sai on the nose, impishly giggling before taking a step back. "So, if you don't mind that...then by all means, I think I can convince the others in there to stick around for a bit. Wouldn't be too hard to appeal to their...sentimentality~"
The more she thought about it, the more she rather liked the idea. Even if it was a short term thing, it could be fun just to see how much trouble she could get into just from being a 'leader'. | The first thing one would notice about Sen, is her incredibly pale, almost snow white skin tone. The next, would likely be the six horns of varying length protruding from her head. Two, long bull like horns curve around her skull from just above her ears which have slight elfin points, with two smaller ones growing in just above them with a final, small two growing barely an inch from the top of her forehead. She has long, black hair typically not styled in any particular fashion and is usually left to hang listlessly. A pair of bat like wings extend from her spine, though they aren't large enough to allow for actual flight, though could aid one in a controlled glide.
The fifteen year old sports rather decorative clothing, and stands about 5'4", a good few inches taller than the others of her age with a skirt and long stockings and platform boots adorning her feet. She has yellow colored eyes with cat like slits for pupils, and her horns don a few charms of unknown make and purpose. She comments they're only there for cosmetic effect. One should not mistake her for some delicate wallflower or other not so physically inclined person. Senna could likely give a few full grown men a run for their money in terms of strength, and her slender, toned body gives away that much at least.
Name:
Senna
Age:
15
Gender:
Female.
Background:
As far as Sen's personality goes, she's a troublesome sort and incredibly fickle most of the time. One moment she might be your best friend, the next she's liable to throw you under the bus if it something inconvenient for her or she grows bored of someone. She might be set on revenge one moment, and then decide to get all friendly with them later - with no intent for betrayal. Really, it just depends on her mood and how she feels at the moment. Generally though, she is fairly flirtatious and promiscuous in her mannerisms, and never shows open hostility towards anyone and treats most people with a fairly friendly demeanor. Of course, one should be wary of her affection of any sort and always take her words and loyalties with a grain of salt.
As she says - "Heh? What, me? Everyone's loyalties lie somewhere. Mine is to myself, and myself only. If I can get ahead by being friendly, I'll do it. If It'll serve me better to shank all of you guys in a dark alley...well, heh. I think it's obvious."
That said, she's not one for random stabbings or betrayals for giggles. One shouldn't have to worry too much about her fickle nature getting in the way of things unless the pros greatly outweigh the cons. Of course, this is only because she values long term partners higher than possibly temporary allies - basically meaning people she could manipulate to an extent with a little clever wording or other such things. Getting her to be completely on the side of any permanent cause, is going to be incredibly difficult, but in the unlikely event that you do have it, you would be surprised at the lengths she might go to repay a debt or help those she might care for.
Has somewhat refined tastes, and would love nothing more than to live in the lap of luxury through any means possible. She very rarely is angry or upset and tries to find humor in everything, but one should be careful of her temper.
Background:
Honestly, Senna has no real idea of her origins. As far as she remembers she was tossed out on the streets at a fairly early age - too young to even remember anything aside from her name, a thing she clung to as her only real possession for a fairly long time. Living on the streets wasn't exactly all that easy, but she managed well enough by showing some of the people around her who was boss and who could outsmart them. She quickly learned how to handle herself in quite a number of brawls, as while she liked to consider herself highly intelligent such things bored her to no extent. She needed things to get the blood flowing, to watch someones cranium implode while she smacked it. For a kid, she was perhaps fairly similar to what her appearance might have suggested, but without anything else to turn to, how could one survive if they didn't cut down the competition?
When Fritz found her, she was half beaten from a brawl and nearly dead when asked about what happened, all she'll comment is that she got out a lot better than those piss for brains, and 'their heads are gonna look reeeeal nice on that fence' She decided to stick around for awhile, see what this whole thing was about and decided to stay at the orphanage for awhile with the other kids.
Equipment:
The only weapons she needs are her fists legs, and gauntlets of stone.
Level:
1
Attribute:
Force
Skills:
Intelligence:
One might mistake Sen for a simple brute that likes to punch her way through everything. Well, they are mostly right. She doesn't have time to really finesse things too much. However, she greatly enjoys brain teasers and considers herself at least above average in the IQ department. She often likes to play chess in her spare time. Though, perhaps 'Clever and Resourceful' might be a better descriptor here. She is by no means going to be outsmarting any scholarly sort, since books and such things bore her to no end.
Manipulative:
Either through more friendly means or less such means, Sen has a surprising way with words when it comes to speaking. Where she picked this up from no one is quite sure, but she comments that sometimes brute force isn't enough, and perhaps a honeyed tongue and playing ones cards right with certain people could easily get one better results. Pitting people against each other and watching delightfully from the sidelines.
Cooking:
In a fairly surprising turn of events, one might find Senna is fairly talented in the cooking department and gets quite agitated if she's cooking and someone interrupts her or messes her up. If you are one of these fools who interrupts her, you won't be having a skull left after she's done with you.
Affinity:
Earth
Gift:
Senna's gift is fairly simple. It allows her to make stone gauntlets out of the earth itself. It is very simple in function, but fairly useful. Aside from enhancing her punches they are also sturdy enough to be able to deflect some blows and things. While perhaps not impressive as some other gifts currently, in time with a little training it would likely grow into something much more effective. |
8,295 | 225 | 15 | 315 | 290 | So at the moment it appeared that things were functioning as normal; well everything except the odd lack of mice. Thoughts rattled inside Dodo's skull as she noted the sites and the current situation of all of them. None of the fires appeared to be occurring on the island itself; that was nice. Although a good fire did smoke out various prey animals and caused them to flee into the open for hunting. But depending on the direction of the wind alongside where the blaze started there was always the risk that it would get to the nest. But a nest could always be rebuilt, though of course it tended to be a bit of a bother.
Dodo blinked as a new thought popped into place. Quickly Dodo extended both wings then twisted her head to look at both of them. Stretching out her neck Dodo made a quick series of motions as she used her horn to preen at her wings. The process began with her right wing to get at the anterior feathers. She then moved onto the left wing preened some more with her horn. Dodo retracted her wings back towards her body as she did a small bit more preening with her mouth.
With this bit of cleaning finished Dodo returned her attention back to the view. Her eyes traced back to the furthest view on the horizon. As she looked at that 'shining city on a hill' Dodo held her mouth open. There were no vocalizations uttered from her hanging jaw; her eyes remained focused on the glow. She was entranced as if she could feel the glow.
While such a sight did hold her attention for awhile it would not be enough to keep her complete focus. She returned to looking down at the environment below. Despite the fact that it was currently in a sleepy state as the hustle and bustle was worn off, Dodo did in fact spot Thames looking around the building. Perhaps he was also looking for mice to hunt.
Dodo swooped down past the large window of the orphanage as she flew down towards Thames. Her wings continued to flap as she positioned herself in front of the boy. Finally the bird-creature decided to land properly as she kept a keen eye positioned on Thames. This stare went on for a few seconds too long before she tilted her head to look down at the base of the orphanage.
"Ppprrrruuuuu?" chirped up Dodo, presumably talking to Thames, although her attention seemed entirely focused on the outside walls of the building. | Name: Dodo
Age: 12
Gender: Female
Background: The birth of Dodo was an event that was surely remembered by the parents and the midwife or doctor that delivered her. It made sense that Dodo was quickly abandoned alone in Dirt Town. This baby was reported to have been raised by a group of alley cats and pigeons, which helps explain Dodo's very odd communication habits, and the feral and predatorial front she presents to others.The abomination which showed that the universe clearly did not care about the fate of its inhabitants for the most part lived her life helping her adoptive family of pigeons and alley cats obtain food and protecting them from the wild packs of dogs. During one of the trash dives for food she was discovered by Fritz, who had to drag her to the orphanage while she was kicking and resisting. However she somewhat adapted to the orphanage as a few of the alley cats tracked her down and seemed to comfort Dodo, and at the orphanage she got a few items to play with. Now Fritz is dead and Dodo is on the loose.
Equipment: Lead-pipe, three stress balls and a worn purse
Level: 1
Attribute: Focus
Skills:
Intimidation
Bestiary
Juggling
Affinity: Light
Gift: Dodo's gift is the ability to cause the surface area around her talons to function as a prism to create a bright display of all the colors in the visible spectrum. |
8,296 | 225 | 16 | 1,274 | 608 | After having left the orphanage, Thames had quickly realized that he was, again, alone. At least, as much as one could be on the island. After all, he could still hear the other children talking to one another, becoming a whole group, discussing who would take charge. The amount of cohesion they had was bizarre. He always felt the other children being too obnoxious to be capable of team work. At least, not at the level of gears. Though, there was nothing to Thames that could match the intricacies of gears grinding against one another, the simply motion driving all sorts of different machinery, all the cogs working together to perform a single task, or perhaps multiple depending on their design with endless possibilities, unhindered by personal goals or ambitions, hopes, dreams, fear, politics, religion.
Thames thought to leave before anybody had caught him outside, though a part of him felt that the others didn't really care much for him. He didn't care- he didn't need them anyways. Then, just as luck would have it, he heard the fluttering of wings. Such a sound, wasn't uncommon. He was used to those who could fly, having lived with winged individuals at the orphanage. Thames looked upward to see a familiar face, and scowled.
"What do you want bird brain? Leave me alone. I don't have any bread today." He shooed Dodo away. | Name: Thames
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Background: At the start of his life, Thames could not remember the reassuring touch of his mother or father not could he remember any warm words spoken by them. From the beginning, all that Thames could remember hearing was an incessant ticking at the back of his head. Indeed, Thames was born among machinery and raised by clockwork constructs which fed, bathed, and clothed him until he was old enough to do these things himself and the constructs had eventually broke down when Thames was aged eight. At that year, he didn't have the ability to fix these machines, almost starving to death until being taken in by an orphanage where he lived the rest of his life. There, Thames worked on building machines, tinkering with watches in order to practice until he could work on larger machinery. At the age of ten, Thames manifested his abilities, though were unsure exactly of how to use them, simply because they appeared weak and their effects were subtle at best. When he finally realized what he was doing, he was fourteen.
Equipment: Apart from his clothing, Thames also carries around a pocket watch, a set of keys to a house which may or may not be torn down, and a watch repair kit.
Level: 1.
Attribute: Fluid
Skills: Machine Repair, History, Perceptiveness
Affinity: Wind
Gift: Thames possesses the power of limited time dilation. At will, everything in an immediate area of Thames experiences time differently from everything else around him. For the most part, he speed up time around himself so that he personally can appear to be moving faster, actually experiencing time at a slower rate than everything around him. He can also slow himself down, making himself experience things faster, giving him more leeway to react to incoming objects. Of course, all of this could be construed simply as super speed and everything in regards to time may be completely made up. |
8,297 | 225 | 17 | 315 | 290 | Mrrro. chirruped Dodo as she a tad closer Thames. She extended out her head and poked Thames near the shoulder with her horn. After finishing this gesture she turned towards the orphanage and chirped, "Ppprrruu." Following this was another poke by the horn but instead turning to face the surrounding area of Dirt Town. "Pprruuu." Vocalizing these chirps Dodo proceeded to walk around Thames and stand off to the side.
Of course chances were that Thames probably didn't even have the slightest inkling of what Dodo could've chirped out. Too many wanted to just go about using 'ape speak'; which Dodo did not feel inclined indulging others in. After all she had spent her life with pigeons and alley cats; their language was perfectly serviceable.
Beyond those small bits of what could've possibly been construed as dialogue, there was little to nothing else that Dodo said. She simply looked around on ground level for anything she might've missed from the higher elevation. After a bit more looking around Dodo began pecking at the dirt below with her head. | Name: Dodo
Age: 12
Gender: Female
Background: The birth of Dodo was an event that was surely remembered by the parents and the midwife or doctor that delivered her. It made sense that Dodo was quickly abandoned alone in Dirt Town. This baby was reported to have been raised by a group of alley cats and pigeons, which helps explain Dodo's very odd communication habits, and the feral and predatorial front she presents to others.The abomination which showed that the universe clearly did not care about the fate of its inhabitants for the most part lived her life helping her adoptive family of pigeons and alley cats obtain food and protecting them from the wild packs of dogs. During one of the trash dives for food she was discovered by Fritz, who had to drag her to the orphanage while she was kicking and resisting. However she somewhat adapted to the orphanage as a few of the alley cats tracked her down and seemed to comfort Dodo, and at the orphanage she got a few items to play with. Now Fritz is dead and Dodo is on the loose.
Equipment: Lead-pipe, three stress balls and a worn purse
Level: 1
Attribute: Focus
Skills:
Intimidation
Bestiary
Juggling
Affinity: Light
Gift: Dodo's gift is the ability to cause the surface area around her talons to function as a prism to create a bright display of all the colors in the visible spectrum. |
8,298 | 225 | 18 | 2,161 | 39 | Swooping down from the clouds as evening fell came cheerful Argo, returning from a long day's scavenging. In the crook of one arm she carried a large paper bag, handling it carefully as she touched down in front of the orphanage. Argo stepped off her broom and allowed it to hover silently behind her as she always did, and strolled past her friends. How nice of them to wait outside, just for her!
"Hello, Dodo! Hello, Thames!"
Argo waved with her free hand, nearly dropped the bag, and quickly stepped forward to catch it with her knee. Safe! Argo made a mental note not to wave at anyone else until she put it down.
She walked up the wide marble stairs into the orphanage, nudging the doors open with her shoulder. The hall was mostly deserted, save for lots of the bigger children playing house. There was only a small lots, though. Usually there was a big lots before bedtime. Argo waved to them, too, and the bag tipped precariously over, only stopped by a crumbling decorative pillar Argo had nearly walked into. She cocked her head to look at them as she righted the bag.
"Hello, friends! Is today a special day?"
Without waiting for an answer, because she was sure someone would tell her sometime, she walked back to Uncle Fritz's room, kicking the door open. For some reason, there was a really big lots of friends here. Maybe more than she could count on her fingers and toes together! Her broom, oriented sideways, got stuck against the door frame as she entered.
"Hello, friends! Hello, Uncle Fritz!", she chirped cheerfully, "Guess what I found today!"
Without waiting for an answer, she dug around in the bag and retrieved... Something. It was a lumpy, half-burnt disk of pie crust, a crack in the top revealing a strange, brownish-grey mush that was currently leaking out all over Argo's hand. The whole assembly smelled positively foul.
"Ta-daaaaaa! It's an oyster-and-asparagus-and-beet pie! The lady with the big boobs from the red light district told me it makes men last for a really really long time! Could you believe they were throwing it out, when it's only a day old?"
Argo noticed, finally, that her other friends were crying. Maybe they were sad that only Uncle Fritz got to have a pie?
"Don't worry: Your friend Argo brought enough for everyone! Once Uncle Fritz eats, we can all have dinner together, okay?"
She looked over to the small boy mumbling to himself in the corner as she tried to navigate the horde of orphans without spilling anything.
"Luca, make sure to be a good boy and share your juice with Uncle Fritz, okay?" | Name: Argo
Age: 13
Gender: Female
Background: Argo was left with Old Man Fritz at the tender age of four. She doesn't remember much of her real parents, save that her father was a man of justice. Argo is utterly convinced that her father will return someday, and strives to become a girl he can be proud of: Kind, loving, and just. While admirable, this is tempered by the fact that Argo may actually be the singular dumbest, most gullible person in Dirt Town. How she has actually survived for so long is a mystery to everyone, but Argo's nine years in Dirt Town have firmly entrenched her as the village idiot. As for her relationship with the other orphans, she's something of a double-edged sword: While her abilities and contacts are useful, her hatred of crooked affairs means she's best kept out of the loop of any shady goings-on. Otherwise, things could get messy.
Equipment: A wooden broom, her father's hat, a thick coat with lots of pockets, a jar of fixative, a cheap brass locket, a tin cup with a dent in it, a stethoscope, a gyroscope, a baroscope, a telescope, various interesting rocks, a small pair of shears, some chestnuts, a coinpurse full of loose change (various foreign denominations, no value), a sock with a brick in it, a ball of twine, an ugly wooden statuette, four candle stubs of varying lengths, a tin full of marbles, a linen sack, a beetle cage (no beetles), a seashell, and a cat toy
Level: 1
Attribute: Finesse
Skills:
Navigation - Moving around the district at high speeds requires a great sense of direction and strong reflexes. Naturally, Argo has both.
Optimism - Argo is sunny and upbeat even at the worst of times, and holds ironclad belief in the inherent goodness of her fellow man. One would expect this to be a disadvantage, but Spirits are far more likely to keep someone alive or help them out once they recognize that said person is an endless well of positive emotions they can feed off of; a rare commodity in Dirt Town.
Likable - Likewise, Argo's willingness to help her fellow man and wide-eyed innocence mean that she's actually fairly well-liked among the Dirt Town population, and possesses friends and a positive reputation pretty much everywhere within and around the district, and quickly forges new bonds when brought elsewhere. Even the most blackhearted villains hesitate to raise a hand against someone so patently harmless.
Affinity: Wind
Gift: Argo has the ability to fly with the aid of a broom. To clarify, she can freely levitate and manipulate a given broom, but the most common usage is flight. |
8,299 | 225 | 19 | 896 | 388 | The fact that Trog was distressed was no secret, in fact there were few people more plain with their feelings in the whole room as Old Man Fritz lay on his deathbed. It was just so wrong to see the once strong and capable man reduced to... this and it left Trog in a twitching mess, his hands clenching and unclenching wildly while he fidgeted towards the back of the group. He'd step a hole into the flooring at the rate he stepped side to side, the itch to move about stoked by his inability to move freely in the restricted space. It was all just happening too fast for Trog to keep up with, he had just gotten back from the blacksmith and still smeared with soot when Mary ushered everyone in. The tension in the air was suffocating as Trog strained to hear the Old Man through the sniffles of younglings and the growing din between his ears.
It was hard to hear the old man, and he was sure he missed most of it, but Trog didn't care as he saw the man who raised and protected him breath his last. It was too much for the boy to handle as he huffed once, breathed deep, and huffed again before violently shaking his head in a vain effort to calm himself down. Trog was going to lose it.
He stomped out of the room, his boots echoing loudly within the Orphanage as he pushed through anyone in his way. Faces blurred away as his eyes hyperfocused on the front door, memories of Old Man Fritz scolding him for causing a ruckus flooding into his head. The heavy doors were slammed open as he made a beeline for the back of the Orphanage, where the firewood was kept and chopped. With each stomp more and more memories can charging through, some were bad but most were good and with every single one the tightness in his chest worsened. Naturally his first solution was to thump it away with a meaty fist and, when that endeavor yielded few results, switched to a grief and frustration filled whine.
Finally, in what felt like forever, Trog rounded the corner and found himself in face to face with a familiar sight, the chopping block. Old Man Fritz' words came flooding in again, repeating the same phrase to himself he always did when he needed to blow off some steam.
"Listen, Trog, I can't have you throwing another tantrum like that again. Most of the other kids aren't as strong as you are and if you throw your weight around casually you will hurt them. Just, whenever you get that itch I want you to come back here and pour all that anger onto these logs. Do you understand?"
Trog shook his head once again, more violently this time, as he tried to physically expel the memories from his skull. With quick, practiced movements he set up a log and grabbed the axe, the weathered wood finding familiarity in his hands. With a single swing he split the log in two as he channeled all his fury into blow. Then he set up another log and repeated the process, more fury in this blow than the last. Then again, and again, and again, each blow more powerful and spiteful. It was the Logs fault that Old Man Fritz was dead and Trog was going to make them pay. On the seventh log the support stump couldn't handle it and split along with the log set utop it, an act that finally set him off. A crimson red inferno burst forth from Trog's eye sockets as his anger got the better of him and he let out a loud, bestial howl as he struck at the pile of logs. The blow set them scattering across the ground, the impact freeing them of their stack and costing Trog his grip on the axe. It was of little consequence as he began to dig into the pile, grabbing whole logs and chucking them behind him as if he was digging into the chest of a massive beast.
Slowly he came back to reality, his savage grunts and roars becoming replaced by near silent keens and sniffles as his fury was swallowed by grief. Trog knew somewhere in that lizard brain of his that none of this was going to bring the Old Man back, and that tore his heart to pieces. He tucked into himself, large arms pulling his knees close to his chest and his head downcast, staring halfhearted daggers at the pile of firewood he had made. His silence was only punctuated by the occasional sniffle, tears streaking through his soot covered face as smoke danced away from his eyes. | Name: Trog
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Background: As is well known throughout the lands the city of Castalia is a hub for scientific, technological, and arcane development with a reputation for lax morals when it comes to human experimentation. Trog came about as a result of a group of scientists interested in creating soldiers more capable at crushing their enemies and guarding their secrets. So began a process of selective breeding, magical bombardment of the fetus, and the invasion of toxic spirits into their minds as they grew. Unsurprisingly many of the children didn't survive this treatment and the ones who did were born twisted, but incredibly promising.
Then there was the Midwife, a woman who had seen much in her time with these scientists but decided that what was going on was far too wrong to justify and spirited away with an infant Trog. She journeyed for many days before catching wind of a rumor of an Orphanage of sorts under the guardianship of a powerful man. Soon enough she was at the Orphanage's door and made her case before Old Man Fritz, leaving Trog into his care once she was certain he was a good enough man. She left soon after in an attempt to shake off any would be pursuers who came looking for their missing asset.
As far as Trog knows he's always been there and was just a heavily Tainted child, though there have been moments of doubt. While they have faded over the years the effects of the experiments still affect Trog to this day, like the uncontrollable anger that seeps its way into his thoughts and the way knowledge that doesn't pertain to hurting things seems to roll. However, despite all this, Trog tries to do right by those he's grown up to. He helps in the ways he can, tries to be as friendly as his emotions let him, and truly looks up to Old Man Fritz not unlike how a child would view their father.
Equipment:
-Tusk, a massive blade that appears to be the love child of a meat cleaver and a machete. Crafted from leftover scrap iron and a cannibalized belt, while appearing crude the blade is actually fairly functional and highlights the craftsman' pragmatism.
-Blacksmith Apprentice Tools, hammers and tongs of various sizes all kept in a leather apron.
Level: 1
Attribute: Force
Skills:
-Natural Blacksmith, While he has a long way to go to becoming a master blacksmith Trog is a complete natural to the trade, taking to it as naturally as breathing.
-Cunning, While by no means a smart man to dismiss him as an idiot would be a grave error in judgement. Trog is always watching, thinking, and calculating in his own way on how to solve any given problem, though to be fair most of his solutions are to just smash someone into the dirt. Just don't count on it always being the case.
-Sneaky, Despite his large size and twisted body Trog is an adept at moving about "All sneaky like." and remaining hidden from view which has lead to many a startled yelps when the giant that wasn't there a second ago suddenly is behind them.
Affinity: Fire
Gift:
-Frenzy, when aggression is in the air and blood begins to spill Trog begins to get... itchy. He begins to breath hard, he begins to twitch erratically, and he begins to "see red" as crimson flames burst from his eye sockets. Then the real fun starts as his strength is doubled, his pain tolerance skyrockets, and he's filled with an unstoppable urge to crush, cut, and stab at those he views as a threat. Oddly enough he isn't in control of this Gift and it only activates when Trog is hurt enough, becomes suitably enraged, or he feels something important to him is going to be lost. |
Subsets and Splits
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