[CHAR] FateFallen - Dark Souls-Inspired Sci-Fi Medieval RP (FULL ATM)

[ClocktowerEchos]

PLEASE SUBMIT CHARACTERS THROUGH OOC
DO NOT POST THEM HERE FIRST

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CS Guide

Replace "Derp" with what ever color you want.
[center]<Appearance picture here, preferably non-realistic>[img][/img]

[color=derp][b]⟡ ⟡ ⟡[/b][/color][h3][color=derp][u] < N A M E H E R E > [/u][/color]
[sup][sup][color=derp]❰ GENDER [b]⟡[/b] FORMER FATE ❱[/color][/sup][/sup][/h3][/center]
[color=derp][sub][u][b] A P P E A R A N C E [/b][/u][/sub][/color]
[indent][indent][color=CCCCCC]What does your character look like? Include what their armor/outfit looks like as well. Armor in this RP will basically be cosmetic/fashion for the most part, although there should be a difference in the mobility of heavy armor vs robes and that the really fancy looking stuff should come later, you just recently got out of stasis and will likely be wearing something simple.[/color][/indent][/indent]

[color=derp][sub][u][b] B I O G R A P H Y [/b][/u][/sub][/color]
[indent][indent][color=CCCCCC]What kind of history does your person have? This should tie into their former fate. Your character will not be able to remember over 90% of their pasts, at most knowing what kind of profession they had, their name, simple things like that. If you wish to do some world building in this part, please contact me first.[/color][/indent][/indent]

[color=derp][sub][u][b] P E R S O N A L I T Y [/b][/u][/sub][/color]
[indent][indent][color=CCCCCC]What is your character like? This doesn't have to be a long, drawn out thing detailing what exactly will happen, but its best to put down their overall demeanor, motivations, behavior quirks, fighting style and how what they think of their new duty to put an end to the Abyssal Void once more as they step into the shoes of heroes.[/color][/indent][/indent]

[color=derp][sub][u][b] E Q U I P M E N T [/b][/u][/sub][/color]
[indent][indent][b][color=db4b30]⟡ [/color]<Stuff Here>[/b]
[indent][color=CCCCCC]<Description here>[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent]

[color=derp][sub][u][b] M I S C [/b][/u][/sub][/color]
[indent][indent][b][color=db4b30]⟡ [/color]<Stuff Here>[/b]
[indent][color=CCCCCC]<Description here>[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent]

The Fabled Maiden

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

F A B L E D M A I D E N
^{❰ FEMALE ⟡ FATEWEAVER ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Clad in a black-grey body suit, the Fabled Maiden is one of the few residents of the Nexus who is quitely literally very attached to it, wires and tubing poking out of her back and the back of her head which allows to to monitor all of the systems and glide around. The other most notable appearance feature is the bug eye-like mask she wears over her eyes. She never takes it off but it does seem to be where she "sees" most of the world from.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Although the Fabled Maiden is easily one of the oldest members within the Nexus presumably, nothing is known about her. She speaks not of her past and will ignore any attempts to get such answers out of her. For as long as it is known to the Fatefallen, helping them in their journey by giving them advice and strengthening their abilities when visited. She does not appear to be able to move outside of the Nexus but is some how connected to drones and cameras of all sorts to watch over all.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Many would call the Fabled Maiden distant, reserved and aloof given how little she tends to speak. Whether by chose or by some anceint edict, she does not speak more than necessary but will be as helpful as possible, filling in newly awoken Fatefallen on information of the world and helping them increase their own strength through Threads that they collect in the world. Always faithful to her duties it would seem.

Active Characters:

• Everybody is Active now! :D

[Damiann47]

Sage Reier

<<Of course a big omit on the dog and the rifle, but damn did I just loved this picture. Also 100% convinced this is Fallout related, but oh well.>>

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< SAGE REIER>
^{❰ FEMALE ⟡ ARTISAN❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Underneath that heavy brown coat is a 5' 4" tall woman with sandy blonde hair and a set of gray eyes. She has a light airy build, and if she wasn't Fatefallen she wouldn't be particularly strong either. She wears a lot of pockets of varying sizes, and even has a few more stitched into the inside of her coat, then adding in a large backpack Sage has many storage options. Her gear is undoubtedly rugged, while not enough to protect her from any nasty claw swipes or even a bullet, it still offers decent refuge from the elements. Plus it keeps her toasty in colder climates, which is a nice bonus.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Sage remembers a few things, one of those thankfully being her name... maybe. Admittedly she isn't sure if "Sage" is her real name, or a nickname still what matters is she even has a name at all. Like any other Fatefallen there is extremely little she could recall, however what she does remember involves all things mechanical. So many machines and lost technologies are locked away in her mind, she even gets the briefest most maddening glimpses, but try as she might Sage could never remember anything useful. Now what is truly vivid to her are weapons, or more specifically the maintenance of weaponry. Disassembling guns for cleaning then reassembling them, polishing blades, and patching up armor. Sage also knows that she probably didn't live the most peaceful of lives, that she took part in individual battles while never quite having a frontline position, but was still in active combat all the same. She doesn't have any idea what series of events lead to her becoming Fatefallen, not knowing doesn't sit all that well with her, yet there is just no changing that. She eventually decided that it was probably best not to dwell too much on her lost past as it simply isn't healthy, and if nothing else she defiantly needs to remain sane.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

In light of her existence as a Fatefallen Sage finds it particularly hard to be cheery at the best of times making her ever so slightly reserved, and even a tad gloomy. Make no mistake she would still gladly seek comfort in companionship, and definitely isn't the depressed type, unfortunately she could stand be in a better place. For the most part her motivations are simple as they come which is straight up survival, for herself and to a lesser extent the rest of humanity. On that subject the mere prospect of facing nameless monsters doesn't thrill her in the slightest, yet she also recognizes that is an unavoidable risk. In general Sage is a down to earth kind of person, she doesn't always like how thing are going, which is more often than not, but she wouldn't pretend anything is different from how it actually is. Now its needless to say that Sage would very much prefer to stay far from the front, more than content to return fire with her pistol at a distance. Then while she isn't one for direct combat, she also is not afraid to dirty her hands when necessary. Speaking about hands, Sage of course is fairly handy with hers, and definitely posses the skill to carry out a multitude of technical tasks.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

⟡ <Ancient Pistol>

<Sage's only real piece of weaponry is an ancient pistol. Most of it's metallic parts have long been rusted over and could probably stand to be replaced. Otherwise it is a relatively reliable, well at least for a sidearm of it's age, and still retains some punch to it. Sage thinks she could possibly give it some much needed love, but replacing it altogether may be easier since new parts could potentially be difficult to find.>

⟡ <Miscellaneous Repair Tools>

<On her person is also a small bag of tools that Sage believes came from her forgotten past. There isn't too much she could do with these simple tools, but fortunately standard maintenance on equipment should be a breeze. Anything more complicated or specialized would be way out of her capabilities, not without a Repair Datacore.>

_{M I S C}

⟡ <Nothing of Note>

<Sage doesn't really possess any meaningful mementos, at least far as she could remember.>

[agentmanatee]

Cedro

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< CEDRO >
^{❰ MALE ⟡ VAGRANT ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Cedro is every bit a vagrant in his appearance, clothing tattered and unkempt like the rest of him. He wears an old overlong coat on his shoulders, covered in holes and stitching. Beneath it is a similarly raggedy flanel-like shirt in need of stiching in several places, below that appears to be an old undershirt. His pants are long and torn in quite a few places, the bottoms extremely ragged. His shoes are dinged and scuffed all over, looking like they could fall apart any minute. The only 'ornament' he has, if it coould even be called so, is a large, wide, flat brimmed black hat. Like the rest of him it is old and has several holes... but Cedro seems not to mind. It is coommon for his attire to become stained in blood and other fluids whilst fighting.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Cedro remembers almost none of his past life. Even his own name is hard to remember at times... it has been so hopelessly long after all, and he hath suffered a truly terrible fate... even so he does have some memories. All are disconnected and attached more to feelings than anything solid. Happiness brings images of the smiling face of a child, a woman, a bright sun. Sadness brings images of chains, of shouting and screaming... of the long slumber. Anger is blood, fast and brief but there and hard to distinguish. Finally, a hope... a warm hand in his, something slips between them... what was it? Who were they? What is the blood? ... I must find out... I must break this terrible burden... I must go back.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

If nothing else one could call Cedro determined. In spite of his fate, in spite of his lack of equipment, he is completely uncompromising in demeanour, solemn and dutifully to the very end. He can sometimes be possessed by intense bouts of anger, frustration, and ever so occasionally madness. He remembers very little, and seems to forget more every day. He is obsessed with trying to remember, to find what he has lost. Although determined, he is extraordinarily cynical and seems to approach every situation fully expecting to fail but trying in spite of it, and when he succeeds its a happy surprise. His style of combat may be comparitively simpkistic to others, swing his improvised club as hard as he can at whatever is trying to cause him harm, but it has a certain simple effectiveness to it. Tis a rare opponent who can last an extended beating with a heavy metal club. He is the first in, but never seems content with it.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

⟡ <Crude club>

<A length of reinforced pipe, weighted with additional metal to make it more than heavy enough to work as a crude weapon. Though simplisitc, being beaten with a heavy metal pipe is not a pleasant or safe experience.>

_{M I S C}

⟡ <Necklace>

<A small, dingy necklace. Cedro holds onto it dearly, as it gives him warm feeling of home...>

[Mike73]

Gallus Sintain

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< GALLUS SINTAIN >
^{❰ MALE ⟡ STEWARD ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

The appearance of a plague doctor always brings a sense of bad omens. The recognizable silhouette itself is usually enough to drive fear into others, but it's the details that stick with those who see such figures. The multitudes of pockets, pouches, and sashes for miscellaneous medicinal and chemical equipment decorate the body. The outfit is made of both cloth and machine, which doesn't make the wearer too sturdy but allows for freedom of movement and offers protection from diseases and pathogens. The iconic mask is made entirely of metal, and allows the wearer to breathe even within areas with harsh airs and environments. The eyes give off a constant glow, and the light almost always stays on unless stealth is absolutely required.

So, it may be surprising for others to hear such a cheery voice emanate from within the mask whenever Gallus speaks. Underneath the outfit lies an innocent-looking young man, with wide green eyes and tousled medium-length brown hair. He stands at around six feet tall, but without the outfit his height doesn't seem intimidating at all. He's incredibly thin and lean, to the point that he's borderline gangly-looking, but his perfect posture helps to offset that. His light skin tone suggests that his skin rarely ever felt the rays of the sun in his past life, likely meaning he wore his outfit quite often, perhaps even unhealthily so.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Gallus Sintain, it's a name he almost wishes he didn't remember. At the very least, he believes it's his name, as the words Property of G. Sintain lay etched on the inside of his mask. While it's entirely possible that he stole it, the few fragments of his memories that he still retains would suggest otherwise. He was a scholar, perhaps one that was interested in magic considering his knack with Datacores. He doesn't remember much of what he learned and studied during his career, but what he does remember absolutely chills him. He remember corpses, surgery, and experimentation of a sorts. He remembers the feeling of absolute dread, but it felt more like it was in the air and not coming from him per se. The minor clues from his memories and the attire he wears makes him believe that he did unspeakable things to the bodies of the dead. It is all something he'd like to permanently forget, and he is thankful that the process of becoming one of the Fatefallen has hastened the progress in that regard. And yet...he can't seem to bring himself to discard his outfit. For him, there is a certain sickly comfortableness in wearing it.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Outwardly cheerful and eager, Gallus is always ready to be the first to put one foot in front of the other. He is almost gleefully friendly towards others, and has a propensity to laugh even when the situation doesn't call for it. He has an insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge, and this new world that he finds himself in is practically ripe for exploring and studying. His amicable disposition doesn't make him a pushover however, and he will firmly stand his ground in both social and physical conflicts. He isn't a front line fighter by any means, but he will use all abilities at his disposal to overcome his foes, causing want destruction with Datacores when openings are revealed and supporting allies when necessary. When pushed into a corner, a surprisingly bloodthirsty and violent side comes out of him, or perhaps, it was always there, biding its time and waiting to emerge. Though he will revert back to "normal" once the situation's been sorted out and he's given room to breathe once again. As for what he thinks of his new duty, he's glad to take it on and face off against the Abyssal Void. After all, he's been stuck in one place for ages, so why wouldn't he want to embrace this journey? Moving forward is much more desirable than being forced to stay in place and dwell on situations, both the current and past.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

⟡ <Scalpel>

<A lethally sharp blade that's usually only used in surgical operations, making it more efficient in slashing attacks rather than for stabbing. Gallus doesn't like to use it, but when in his hand, it just feels right.>

⟡ <Plague Doctor Attire>

<The strange and terrifying outfit Gallus woke up in. It's seen its fair share of use, but it's still a viable, if somewhat flimsy armor set. It offers protection against diseases, pathogens, and harmful air.>

_{M I S C}

⟡ <Partial Music Sheet>

<A ripped sheet of music Gallus found in his pocket that only has a few notes for an unfinished song. He hums the minor verse on occasion, and sometimes feels like he can continue it, but something always seems to block off the last few notes from playing out in his mind.>

[The Dow Dragon]

Sir Jakos Istanloz

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Sir Jakos Istanloz
^{❰ Male ⟡ Knight ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Sir Jakos is a giant of a man. He stands at 6 foot 4 inches and is pure muscle. Without his armor he has olive colored skin with warm but tired brown eyes and curly black hair. He looks to be in his early 30s. He has little fat, with a tiny bit congregating around his middle, just enough so his abdominal muscles are barely visible unflexed. His armor is beige and heavy. The symbol that his helmet presents is the insignia of his former lord.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Jakos, like other fatefallen, barely remembers anything about his past life. He's deduced from his armor and symbols that he was a warrior and from his sword, which was covered in faint scratches and nicks, he had seen much battle. Of course he had a feeling even without these clues that he had seen much battle, as blood vividly came to his memory at random times. The people in the picture that was on him, he surmised must have been someone important to him. He saw a younger version of himself and a woman holding an infant with a man with grey hair. The woman showed no resemblance to himself or the other man and the baby she was holding was darker in skin tone than she was. The man could be a relative, they had the same curly hair and dark skin and the same kind of smile. But he noticed that his younger self had his arm around the woman and they were close together. Perhaps the infant was...

Whatever the relation, Jakos always felt a wave of warmth when he looked at the photo and felt as it was his lucky charm.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Jakos sees his 'resurrection' as a sign. A sign of what, he isn't sure. He isn't a man to look into the deeper meaning of things. He's noble and honest and in a world of pain. The memory of his long gone family is seared into his brain and at times he wished he hadn't been woken up. Jakos likes up close and personal. In his humanity, his armor weighed him don significantly and his sword took a decent amount of effort to swing. But now, it seems the effort has been halved. He is an expert with his great sword, able to maneuver it in ways lesser men couldn't. Despite being a skilled combatant, Jakos is also a strategist, having extensive knowledge of battle strategy. He can effectively move allies to strategic positions to swing the battle to their favor.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

- The Sergeant: Jakos's great sword, a razor sharp blade that many of his foes have fallen on and many more will fall to its wrath.

- The X-F2 Armor: A technologically advanced suit of armor, the high tech visor has many functions such as recon spotting, vitals indicator, inventory management to name a few. The armor also has a special feature where then user can focus extra protection a specific area. This renders all other functions useless however, as all power is diverted to that protection,

_{M I S C}

⟡ Family Photo

A photograph of Jakos's mystery companions. It doesn't have any practical use, but Jakos always feels a bit luckier when he has it with him.

[Eisenhorn]

Ansgar Staudinger

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< A N S G A R - S T A U D I N G E R >
^{❰ MALE ⟡ MISCREANT ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Despite his armored, utterly concealed appearance and its battered look, Ansgar is not one for taking a hit. His frame is lithe and almost dangerously thin, moving with a grace that one would not think him capable of. Not an inch of his body underneath is exposed, where the thin, lightweight plate ends, smooth black body suit covers him, blending him well into the shadows he spent much of his remembered life hiding within. What might gain the most attention is his helmet, normally blackened when aiming to remain undetected, but glowing with a menacing red triangle when forced into a violent situation or when unconcerned with being seen, a typically rare occurrence indeed. After all, what good is a man of the shadows that has no qualms with standing out in the open?

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Ansgar Staudinger remembers very little of what earned him a right to become one of the FateFallen, but he knows that he was a thief and murderer. That was it, and all he knew about the past. He assumes that he was a thief from his experience and ability to avoid detection, as well as a knack for figuring out where to go to avoid detection. As for murder, well, when found pushed between a rock and a hard place, his capability for violence seems to speak measures alone. What makes him feel most awkward is his pendent. It creates a strange feeling of longing in his heart, of loss and regret. For someone normally so casual about playing the games of life and death, such a feeling is foreign. Foreign and concerning for Ansgar, after all, such things normally do not reside in his heart.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Ansgar Staudinger sees life as a stage to be played, a game to be won, and a bet to be wagered. Not one for concerning himself with the grand battles against the Abyssal Void, he has little qualms with getting caught up in the whole affair. When pressed into a fight, he prefers to keep distance between him and those who prefer a brawl, yet will rapidly close the distance between him and those that prefer to stand off and use ranged weapons, adapting his tactics to exploit the weaknesses of his enemies rather than what he is most comfortable with, being the usage of his silenced pistol. If everything goes according to his plans, his marks won't have a chance to defend themselves, a lethal blade or unseen shot winning him without a struggle. He speaks with a subtle tone, speaking like a blueblood of old, despite being little more than a thief and assassin in practice, enjoying speaking like those who were often targeted most by his employers.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

⟡ < Silenced Pistol >

< While not the original weapon that Ansgar remembers having during his fragmented memories of the past, it serves effectively the same purpose. Giving him his favored means of defending himself, as well as picking off enemies quietly and letting him act without detection. So long as nothing goes awry, at any rate. >

⟡ < Arm Blade >

< Something built into his gauntlet, Ansgar has a blade that extends from his arm, extending from the palm to allow him a subtle manner of getting close and gutting some poor sod. Once again, he does not recall the origins of the weapon, knowing merely that it was not his original equipment. But, again, he hardly cares, it serves its purpose and that is enough for the Miscreant. >

_{M I S C}

⟡ < Plain Pendent >

< A rather bizarre, useless trinket that holds no purpose or value to anyone left in the realms, even before becoming Fatefallen. However, Ansgar cherishes the trinket and will never be found without it, regardless of what happens to the rest of his gear. He couldn't even tell another person why he cherishes it so, not remembering why, merely knowing it is dear to him and he will keep it close and safe, no matter what happens, and will go to the ends of reality to retrieve it should it escape his possession. >

[Dapper Amaroq]

Ezekial

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< E Z E K I A L >

^{❰ MALE ⟡ KNIGHT ❱}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Pay no attention to the 6'5" tall, muscular man in the black cloak. By his simple white shirt and brown pants, you can tell that he is merely a commoner and means you no harm. The saber he carries is only for his enemies or those who he may have an intense disliking for. Do not ask to see his face. He had his reasons for keeping it hidden.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

He barely knows little more than what everyone else knows about his history. He knows that he was a knight somewhere, but he can't quite figure out who for. When he has to sign for anything, the name Ezekial is the first name that he thinks of. That works as a name, doesn't it? Ezekial the Knight. Other than that, he's not really sure about anything, other than a strange craving for shepherd's pie.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Despite the dark demeanor the cloak gives him, he's surprisingly amiable. Half the time, It's as if he's trying to act as the tall, dark, and deadly member of the group, but he's way too polite for anyone to think of him in that way.

The only unsettling thing about him is that he doesn't ever speak. It's not that he doesn't like to do it. He's pretty sure there's nothing physically stopping him from saying things. It's just that he can't bring himself to do it. The only thing he can get out of his mouth is air.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

⟡ < Black Hooded Cloak >

It's a simple black cloak.There isn't much more to say about it.

⟡ < Saber >

It's the sword he carries with him as a knight. It looks reasonably well cared for, but a bit dull.

⟡ < Wooden Buckler Shield >

What the heck? This cheapo shield is nothing but a tiny metal plate on a shield shaped bed of wood! It looks like it has enough holes to pass for swiss cheese! He's better off without the "shield"

⟡ More to come

What, you didn't think he was going to stick with the thrift store shield, did you? He may be a fate fallen, but ge at least has some standards...

_{M I S C}

⟡ Extra Stuff

To be added when needed.