Nron

Under the Red Sun

@Nron one question here: if Tari is known as a troublemaker, then why was she made an ambassador?

@Maxx

Three reasons 1. She's good at diplomacy regardless of her tendency to play games with people. 2. Friends in high places with an interest in keeping a close eye on Glaces. Less suspicious to have the ambassador be the one doing the watching than some random human or orc serving in the embassy. 3. "If we send her off somewhere else she can't bother us over here."

Under the Red Sun

Oh hey look TCA is here

Tári Númenessë

Name: Tári Númenessë Age: 70 Gender: Female Species: Elf - Volcanic Kingdom of Origin: Originally: The Wilderness, Phoenix mountains. Currently serving as Ambassador of Haderlock to the Glacial Knights of Glaces. Physical appearance: Weighing in at a grand total of 93 lbs and an impressive height of 4'9" it is small wonder that Tári often goes unnoticed, the fact that her ebony skin is in direct contrast with her naturally red hair keeping her from fading entirely into the background. Of course, her slender but shapely form also plays a large part in gaining attention, making up in other places what she lacks in height. Tári prefers to keep her hair off her back and shoulders, sweeping a portion of it over her the left side of her face in order to keep her scar and clouded eye hidden from immediate view. She has a button nose, largish eyes, a rosy complexion (difficult to notice with her skin tone) and the shape of her face could best be described as an inverted triangle. The edges of her mouth appear to have a natural upward curve as well as it seems there is always a smile of one kind or another on her face. Not entirely cut off from her culture, Tári maintains the ceremonial markings of her tribe, though they lack the reddish pigment commonly used by her people. (And because I'm a visual person here's the closest I could make of this 2lewd shorty x x x) Attire: Due to the extreme temperatures of Glaces and the Northlands in general, Tári is more often than not wearing several layers of woolen underclothes and a fur coat given to her on her initial arrival to Glaces that extends down to around her shins. A fur hat of some kind is not out of the question and gloves are a must in the frigid city as well, though due to her higher than normal body temperature she can often forgo a few layers on the warmer days. When not bundled up (generally when she is in her private quarters where there is actual heat) Tári tends towards rather revealing dresses or gowns of a reddish hue. Bangles, necklaces, earrings and other jewelry also makes an appearance during such times. Personality: Many in history have questioned what a cat would be like if it were turned into a human. Tári is likely the closest answer to that question. Possessed of a 'Do-As-I-Like' attitude and the self assurance that the world revolves around and will adapt to her, Tári has waltzed her way through life so far with hardly a care. Charming to the extreme and well aware of the effect she has on most men (and some women), she's never been afraid to use her 'talents' to further her own goals. Coming from a tribe of volcanic elves in a harsh, unforgiving terrain that takes more lives than it gives the nubile young elf has always viewed intimacy as a daily part of life that someone with the right attitude can use to their advantage. Notoriously lazy as well, it is often a wonder to her peers how she managed to become an ambassador at all. It is not uncommon to find her slumped into a chair in front of a warm fire, fast asleep after a meal or discussion with the Glacial Knight leadership. When not snoozing or floozing she can often be found enjoying the finer things in life. This normally includes copious amounts of fermented alcohol, decadent desserts and succulent meat. Tári is, as befits her job, a social butterfly who excels at conversation, bartering, and manipulating small numbers of individuals towards a certain subject or train of thought. This, her looks, and her ability to debate with the best of them made her an ideal candidate to act as ambassador from Haderlock to Glaces. Hobbies/interests: The fineries afforded to her by her position. Food, drink, soft fabrics, exotic creatures and extravagant clothing. Dancing, painting and digging up juicy gossip are also on that list. She also has an interest in jewelery crafting and body markings, both things her people are quite skilled at. Skills: Tári is a people person. She enjoys conversation, she enjoys debate, and she enjoys manipulating others into doing what she wants with as little effort as possible. Her years of fine living and time spent at a counsel table discussing trade agreements have left her with a better understanding of bartering and the cost of goods than most, making her a dangerous customer in any store. Furthermore, Tári has a knack for learning languages both written and spoken, shown by her unofficial tutoring of Sikarthis. She knows over a hundred and six words or slang terms for various genitalia. Backstory: Born into a small tribe of volcanic elves on one of the many slopes of the Phoenix mountains, surrounded by volcanic ash and dangerous magma flows, Tári Númenessë was born into the world ready to confuse and irritate quite a large number of people. Since the time she could walk the young elf was finding her way into places that she shouldn't be and hoarding sweets and other goodies that belonged to other children. Once she had learned to speak it was all any of the tribe's adults could do to keep her from arguing with them or tricking the other kids into relinquishing their treasures. Eventually Tári's own parents were forced to take action, secluding their troublesome child in their forge where they taught her the basics of their trade. It wasn't until the young girl had reached her tenth year of life that she was given permission to leave the forge every so often again. It was on one such occasion that Tári spotted something she had never seen before, a massive caravan line passing far below the village at the base of the mountain slope. Rather than sit around and tell an adult, Tári ran down to see what the long train of people was all about, slipping one of her parents jeweled daggers onto her person as she passed the forge just to be safe. When she reached the base of the mountain the caravan was still proceeding along with wagons, sleds and pack animals deepening the depressions in the newly stomped path left by those that came before them. Making little effort to hide herself at all Tári was surprised to find that nobody paid her much attention, exhaustion set in everyone's eyes as they trudged alongside the wagons holding their worldly belongings. For the young elf it was far too interesting to simply head back the way she had come and so she decided to tag along for a while and investigate further. Several hours (and many many miles) later she realized that she could no longer see the mountain her village was located on. As would end up being the norm for her in later years however she took it in stride, certain that she could find her way back eventually. Suffice to say she never did and it took several months, right up until the caravan reached it's destination at what would become Haderlock, for anyone to say "Wait who's kid is this?" By then however Tári had integrated herself into the daily life of the exiles, making herself useful in little ways while managing to avoid trouble (or at least managing to avoid getting caught). With nobody willing to make the journey to return the youth it was agreed that it would be best to wait until she was older and capable of undertaking such a trip by herself. As the years passed and Haderlock began to blossom it became readily apparent to many that the young elf had a knack for bartering and talking herself out of nasty situations and into sweeter ones. She found herself taken in by merchants and con-men alike, each hoping to monopolize on her promising skills only to be disappointment when she turned the tables on them, her purse heavy with coin and several new tricks up her sleeve at their expense. It wasn't long until she began to inject herself into the social lives of the upper class where she worked tirelessly to expand her list of contacts and 'friends' using whatever means were available to her. From there it was a one way track towards diplomatic work, her 'friends' pulling strings to land her a comfortable and safe job working for the kingdom by handling trade agreements. When the alliance was signed months ago with the Glacial Knights, Tári was chosen to act as acting Ambassador, a position she accepted with relish for both the increase in salary as well as the chance to expand her influence outside of Juvegol. Currently she resides in the newly constructed Haderlock embassy located in Glaces where she spends much of her time in her tightly sealed chambers in front of quite possibly the only fireplace within a hundred mild radius. Family: Tári's father and mother are likely both back at the Phoenix Mountains, extracting rare gems from the lava flows and crafting items from them as was their trade. Relationships: Sikarthis|Questionable|Useful|Tall, cold, kind of a dick. Honestly, you'd think with the way I've been handling him he'd be a bit more warm. Guess it'll take a bit more to melt that ice. Hrmmm... Weaponry: Small: A stiletto dagger forged of blackened steel and jeweled with rubies. A "gift" from her parents according to her. Abilities: Due to the treacherous nature of the Phoenix mountains Tári's people have long been sure of foot and naturally adept at moving unseen when they need to. The shadows are her friends when she has need of them, blending into the darkest corners with hardly a sound before resurfacing inside of what should have been a locked room or holding documents that were in a lockbox moments before. While she is far from combat effective she is quite skilled with holding peoples attention and interest once she has it making her fairly useful in situations that call for going mostly unnoticed. In her free time she has also continued to learn the trade of jewelry crafting, fetching a modest second income off her creations and ensuring that she'll never be short of coin should the demand remain. Weaknesses: Tári has a tendency to prefer lazing about to doing actual work and she can be difficult to motivate into doing anything for others that won't directly benefit her in some way or another. Along with that she holds grudges easily and often attempts to return any slights against her person twice over. Companion: None Other: (anything I didn’t cover in this sheet.)

Under the Red Sun

Sikarthis

@Credit for image used in Physical Appearance goes to lowenael over at dA Name: Sikarthis Age: 470 Gender: Male Species: Glacial Knight Kingdom of Origin: Glaces, The Northlands Physical appearance: Standing at a sizable height of 6'5", Sikarthis is readily recognizable even among a throng of his fellow Glacial Knights. Though somewhat slender, his frosty form has been honed and hardened by centuries of warfare, training, and hardships into an almost unmatched fighting machine. Narrow eyes, high cheekbones and a permanent look of irritation give Sikarthis a rather unapproachable appearance that mirrors his feelings towards the majority of those he is forced to deal with. Sikarthis keeps his hair long, preferring to keep it on either side of his face and out of his eyes. As he shaves only every so often it is not uncommon to find him with stubble or the beginnings of a beard on his face. His skin, like all Glacial Knights, has the appearance of a frosted, iced over lake. Attire: Like all Glacial Knights, Sikarthis dons a uniquely crafted set of armor made of extremely hard and durable ice, though he had changed quite a bit of it throughout the centuries. His armor consists of shoulder pauldrons, a cuirass with an attached groin and thigh guard, flexible 'mail and micro-plate' sleeve coverings that extend over his hands, and a pair of greaves. Sikarthis has long chosen to forfeit the use of a helm, choosing instead a simple head wrap that leaves little more than the area around his eyes exposed. This has serves the dual purposes of protecting him from smoke and similiar battlefield hazards as well as keeping his identity hidden from his enemies. Much of this armor is lighter than the kind commonly worn by Glacial Knights and therefore not quite as good at protecting him from harm. This does mean however that he is significantly more flexible and agile than most of his fellows, allowing him to make full use of his weapon of choice and the fighting style that goes with it. When not wearing his armor Sikarthis wears a simple covering over his genitalia for decency's sake. Personality: Among the speciesist Glacial Knights Sikarthis is counted as one of the most difficult members of leadership to pinpoint in terms of political standing. While he makes no attempt to hide his contempt and irritation towards those outside his own species it has not gone unnoticed that he has little praise or time even for his fellow Knights. Added to that are recent rumors that he and the Haderlock envoy Tári Númenessë have been attending to one another at night, further putting doubts on his views towards outsiders. Whatever his actual stance on the matter, none can argue that he is unfit for his current position as both lead diplomat and renowned lieutenant for Glaces. Renowned for his cold, calculating approach to both diplomacy and war, Sikarthis views every conversation, debate, engagement and even every tumble in the sheets as a battle of wits and wills where one side must come out on top. Lacking nothing for patience he bides his time in all matters, feigning disinterest or foolishness until such a time that he can make use of an opponent's overconfidence or laxness to gain the upper hand. This approach to life has won him many battles and enemies, both on the field and inside the walls of Glaces. Despite any misgivings about his views on foreigners his success as a commander and a tactician have also earned him great respect from those serving under him and it is rare to find him without attendants or hanger-ons looking for approval or handouts. He is fond of using simple board games as a means of gauging his opponents off of the battlefield as well, much to the irritation of several of his regular correspondents. Sikarthis, unlike the rest of his kind, has for the past century had his gaze turned towards the south, past the borders of the Northlands and into The Wilderness where he claims untold power and resources await his people. His fellow officers (and indeed the general himself) have attempted to dissuade him from that line of thought, pointing out that the distance, weather difference, and manpower required to make such an expedition and hold any territory claimed would stretch thin their already small numbers. Were he more approachable Sikarthis might find allies in his arguments but as it were his blunt, callous approach to dealing with others does not translate well to making friends or good first impressions. Some have wondered how he managed to become the finest diplomat in Glaces given this fact. Hobbies/interests: Sikarthis generally spends his free time locked away in his chambers while inside the walls of Glaces, reading from an extensive and ever expanding library of scrolls, tomes, tablets and carvings on a variety of subjects. Often his focus is on military and political history and the tactics of the past, both inside and outside of the Northlands. Trade with Haderlock has given him many a new avenue with which to pursue this interest. Not content just read about such matters, it is not uncommon to find Sikarthis one of the many training halls about Glaces, practicing constantly to turn studied material into practical, proven techniques. As Tári Númenessë is currently the only ambassador in Glaces he has recently spent a sizable amount of time verbally sparring with her about matters both important and inane. The two have also taken to bouncing languages off the other in a sort of impromptu dialect trade. So far Sikarthis has learned more words in more languages for the male genitalia than he had likely been expecting. Skills: Sikarthis speaks several languages and dialects thanks to his centuries of dedicated study, though his understanding of some is more rudimentary at best. Diplomacy is also a strong suit of his and he is well known for his ability to gain the upper hand (or at least even the playing field) in even the most seemingly one sided of talks. He for finding Backstory: While it is no mystery that Sikarthis has risen to two positions of power within Glaces few seem to recall exactly how it was that he managed to reach the heights he has today. Many attribute his position and power to connections within the king's court while others talk of favoritism from the general. In reality however Sikarthis rose through the ranks as anyone did, from the very bottom upwards by his own hand. Low ranking soldiers themselves, the young Glacial Knight was groomed for war long before he had reached even his first decade of life. In the years before his enlistment into the military proper Sikarthis had little interaction with his family outside of daily training when they were stationed inside of Glaces, preferring instead to spend his time out by the harbor watching and waiting for ships to come in. Serving as little more than a foot soldier for half of his first century of life Sikarthis drew the attention of his commanding officers through his tactical insight and prowess with his redaktsyia on the battlefield. The young soldier was difficult not to notice, his unwillingness to back down from a challenge and his apparent skill making it quite clear to his superiors that he intended to do better for himself than his low ranking parents ever had for themselves. From there it was not long until he was leading small squads of his own men and eventually taking orders directly from the general himself. No matter the task Sikarthis proved himself to be an able and adaptable commander as well as a talented warrior. After two centuries of continually proving his worth there were few above him who could deny that a lieutenant's rank was his by rights and even those detractors fell silent on the day that Sikarthis held a mountain pass with a small number of soldiers at his command against a force several times their size. Despite heavy losses, his own parents among them, Sikarthis managed not only to drive back the assaulting force but even beheaded the enemy commander in single combat before leading a counter attack that left the enemy force entirely shattered. A lieutenant's rank now attached to his name, Sikarthis was able to focus on other matters of interests him, namely the study of history and diplomacy. Three decades of study brought him to a point where he believed he could match wits with the best of them and it quickly became apparent to those in Glaces that he was right. As the decades have passed his studies have continued alongside his military career, his experience in both expanding along with his power within the ranks of the general populace. Recently, with the trade between Glaces and Haderlock as well as the arrival of their diminutive ambassador, Sikarthis has stepped up his discussions about expanding south of the Frost River. So far few have been willing to give the idea much thought. Family: Both of Sikarthis' parents died in battle under his command. They were low ranking soldiers of little importance and therefore not worth mentioning as far as he is concerned. Relationships: Tári Númenessë | Questionable | Frienemy | As cunning as she is small, yet overly fond of vulgarities. Little more than an irritating elf in my book. And yet... Weaponry: Large: Sikarthis carries into battle the same weapon he has carried since the first day he stepped onto a battlefield, a redaktsyia (Bladestaff in the Iceman tongue) forged from the same enchanted ice as all Glacial Knight weapons. Perfectly balanced and fairly light despite its size, this polearm gives Sikarthis an impressive amount of flexibility in how he uses it as well as quite a bit of breathing room to work with. The weapon is around ten nine feet in height, the extremely sharp and durable blade making up three of those feet. (It's basically just a really big, reinforced naginata) Medium: Though he rarely uses it, Sikarthis possesses a short sword measuring roughly two and a half feet in length. It is crafted from the same material as his polearm, though the design is less elegant and more designed around causing maximum trauma upon retracting a stab. Small Abilities: Centuries of study, training, and combat experience have turned Sikarthis into one of the most dangerous warriors in the Northlands, his icy polearm leaving bloody trails through the air as it cleaves through flesh and bone alike. Lethality and grace mark his every movement, from the way he seems to dance away from blows to the twirling of his hands as he slices through the neck of a hapless foe. With his body tempered and his mind razor sharp it is no wonder that he has amassed a collection of heads belonging to the commanders and champions who faced him in battle and lost. Where Sikarthis is truly skilled however is in his grasp of military tactics and his ability to marshal men to his side. Few lieutenants are as capable of inspiring their soldiers into an unwavering fighting machine or playing mind games with an enemy commander until he finds himself surrounded and half his troops dead at his feet as Sikarthis is. Weaknesses: Along with all of the usual weaknesses common among Glacial Knights Sikarthis adheres to a strict warrior code (and a nagging voice in the back of his head) that prevents him from turning away from most challenges presented to him. Given the choice he will gladly face an opposing force twice his size with little more than a handful of men, so sure of his own abilities that he fails to foresee any negative outcome. His attitude towards others is also often a hindrance, as despite his current positions within the Glacial Knight society he has little in the way of allies or friends and even less luck making any outside of his species. With this comes an unwillingness to accept support from most individuals, seeing it as a sign of weakness when he cannot rely fully on himself. Some within Glaces would say that the recent arrival of a certain ambassador has also count as a weakness, though not within his earshot. Companion: Loshad' - A horse made of enchanted ice. Loyal, quiet, and with an attitude quite similar to his master's. Other: Capricus

Tári Númenessë

Name: Tári Númenessë Age: 70 Gender: Female Species: Elf - Volcanic Kingdom of Origin: Originally: The Wilderness, Phoenix mountains. Currently serving as Ambassador of Haderlock to the Glacial Knights of Glaces. Physical appearance: Weighing in at a grand total of 93 lbs and an impressive height of 4'9" it is small wonder that Tári often goes unnoticed, the fact that her ebony skin is in direct contrast with her naturally red hair keeping her from fading entirely into the background. Of course, her slender but shapely form also plays a large part in gaining attention, making up in other places what she lacks in height. Tári prefers to keep her hair off her back and shoulders, sweeping a portion of it over her the left side of her face in order to keep her scar and clouded eye hidden from immediate view. She has a button nose, largish eyes, a rosy complexion (difficult to notice with her skin tone) and the shape of her face could best be described as an inverted triangle. The edges of her mouth appear to have a natural upward curve as well as it seems there is always a smile of one kind or another on her face. Not entirely cut off from her culture, Tári maintains the ceremonial markings of her tribe, though they lack the reddish pigment commonly used by her people. (And because I'm a visual person here's the closest I could make of this 2lewd shorty x x x) Attire: Due to the extreme temperatures of Glaces and the Northlands in general, Tári is more often than not wearing several layers of woolen underclothes and a fur coat given to her on her initial arrival to Glaces that extends down to around her shins. A fur hat of some kind is not out of the question and gloves are a must in the frigid city as well, though due to her higher than normal body temperature she can often forgo a few layers on the warmer days. When not bundled up (generally when she is in her private quarters where there is actual heat) Tári tends towards rather revealing dresses or gowns of a reddish hue. Bangles, necklaces, earrings and other jewelry also makes an appearance during such times. Personality: Many in history have questioned what a cat would be like if it were turned into a human. Tári is likely the closest answer to that question. Possessed of a 'Do-As-I-Like' attitude and the self assurance that the world revolves around and will adapt to her, Tári has waltzed her way through life so far with hardly a care. Charming to the extreme and well aware of the effect she has on most men (and some women), she's never been afraid to use her 'talents' to further her own goals. Coming from a tribe of volcanic elves in a harsh, unforgiving terrain that takes more lives than it gives the nubile young elf has always viewed intimacy as a daily part of life that someone with the right attitude can use to their advantage. Notoriously lazy as well, it is often a wonder to her peers how she managed to become an ambassador at all. It is not uncommon to find her slumped into a chair in front of a warm fire, fast asleep after a meal or discussion with the Glacial Knight leadership. When not snoozing or floozing she can often be found enjoying the finer things in life. This normally includes copious amounts of fermented alcohol, decadent desserts and succulent meat. Tári is, as befits her job, a social butterfly who excels at conversation, bartering, and manipulating small numbers of individuals towards a certain subject or train of thought. This, her looks, and her ability to debate with the best of them made her an ideal candidate to act as ambassador from Haderlock to Glaces. Hobbies/interests: The fineries afforded to her by her position. Food, drink, soft fabrics, exotic creatures and extravagant clothing. Dancing, painting and digging up juicy gossip are also on that list. She also has an interest in jewelery crafting and body markings, both things her people are quite skilled at. Skills: Tári is a people person. She enjoys conversation, she enjoys debate, and she enjoys manipulating others into doing what she wants with as little effort as possible. Her years of fine living and time spent at a counsel table discussing trade agreements have left her with a better understanding of bartering and the cost of goods than most, making her a dangerous customer in any store. Furthermore, Tári has a knack for learning languages both written and spoken, shown by her unofficial tutoring of Sikarthis. She knows over a hundred and six words or slang terms for various genitalia. Backstory: Born into a small tribe of volcanic elves on one of the many slopes of the Phoenix mountains, surrounded by volcanic ash and dangerous magma flows, Tári Númenessë was born into the world ready to confuse and irritate quite a large number of people. Since the time she could walk the young elf was finding her way into places that she shouldn't be and hoarding sweets and other goodies that belonged to other children. Once she had learned to speak it was all any of the tribe's adults could do to keep her from arguing with them or tricking the other kids into relinquishing their treasures. Eventually Tári's own parents were forced to take action, secluding their troublesome child in their forge where they taught her the basics of their trade. It wasn't until the young girl had reached her tenth year of life that she was given permission to leave the forge every so often again. It was on one such occasion that Tári spotted something she had never seen before, a massive caravan line passing far below the village at the base of the mountain slope. Rather than sit around and tell an adult, Tári ran down to see what the long train of people was all about, slipping one of her parents jeweled daggers onto her person as she passed the forge just to be safe. When she reached the base of the mountain the caravan was still proceeding along with wagons, sleds and pack animals deepening the depressions in the newly stomped path left by those that came before them. Making little effort to hide herself at all Tári was surprised to find that nobody paid her much attention, exhaustion set in everyone's eyes as they trudged alongside the wagons holding their worldly belongings. For the young elf it was far too interesting to simply head back the way she had come and so she decided to tag along for a while and investigate further. Several hours (and many many miles) later she realized that she could no longer see the mountain her village was located on. As would end up being the norm for her in later years however she took it in stride, certain that she could find her way back eventually. Suffice to say she never did and it took several months, right up until the caravan reached it's destination at what would become Haderlock, for anyone to say "Wait who's kid is this?" By then however Tári had integrated herself into the daily life of the exiles, making herself useful in little ways while managing to avoid trouble (or at least managing to avoid getting caught). With nobody willing to make the journey to return the youth it was agreed that it would be best to wait until she was older and capable of undertaking such a trip by herself. As the years passed and Haderlock began to blossom it became readily apparent to many that the young elf had a knack for bartering and talking herself out of nasty situations and into sweeter ones. She found herself taken in by merchants and con-men alike, each hoping to monopolize on her promising skills only to be disappointment when she turned the tables on them, her purse heavy with coin and several new tricks up her sleeve at their expense. It wasn't long until she began to inject herself into the social lives of the upper class where she worked tirelessly to expand her list of contacts and 'friends' using whatever means were available to her. From there it was a one way track towards diplomatic work, her 'friends' pulling strings to land her a comfortable and safe job working for the kingdom by handling trade agreements. When the alliance was signed months ago with the Glacial Knights, Tári was chosen to act as acting Ambassador, a position she accepted with relish for both the increase in salary as well as the chance to expand her influence outside of Juvegol. Currently she resides in the newly constructed Haderlock embassy located in Glaces where she spends much of her time in her tightly sealed chambers in front of quite possibly the only fireplace within a hundred mild radius. Family: Tári's father and mother are likely both back at the Phoenix Mountains, extracting rare gems from the lava flows and crafting items from them as was their trade. Relationships: Sikarthis|Questionable|Useful|Tall, cold, kind of a dick. Honestly, you'd think with the way I've been handling him he'd be a bit more warm. Guess it'll take a bit more to melt that ice. Hrmmm... Weaponry: Small: A stiletto dagger forged of blackened steel and jeweled with rubies. A "gift" from her parents according to her. Abilities: Due to the treacherous nature of the Phoenix mountains Tári's people have long been sure of foot and naturally adept at moving unseen when they need to. The shadows are her friends when she has need of them, blending into the darkest corners with hardly a sound before resurfacing inside of what should have been a locked room or holding documents that were in a lockbox moments before. While she is far from combat effective she is quite skilled with holding peoples attention and interest once she has it making her fairly useful in situations that call for going mostly unnoticed. In her free time she has also continued to learn the trade of jewelry crafting, fetching a modest second income off her creations and ensuring that she'll never be short of coin should the demand remain. Weaknesses: Tári has a tendency to prefer lazing about to doing actual work and she can be difficult to motivate into doing anything for others that won't directly benefit her in some way or another. Along with that she holds grudges easily and often attempts to return any slights against her person twice over. Companion: None Other: (anything I didn’t cover in this sheet.)

Under the Red Sun

Sikarthis

@Credit for image used in Physical Appearance goes to lowenael over at dA Name: Sikarthis Age: 470 Gender: Male Species: Glacial Knight Kingdom of Origin: Glaces, The Northlands Physical appearance: Standing at a sizable height of 6'5", Sikarthis is readily recognizable even among a throng of his fellow Glacial Knights. Though somewhat slender, his frosty form has been honed and hardened by centuries of warfare, training, and hardships into an almost unmatched fighting machine. Narrow eyes, high cheekbones and a permanent look of irritation give Sikarthis a rather unapproachable appearance that mirrors his feelings towards the majority of those he is forced to deal with. Sikarthis keeps his hair long, preferring to keep it on either side of his face and out of his eyes. As he shaves only every so often it is not uncommon to find him with stubble or the beginnings of a beard on his face. His skin, like all Glacial Knights, has the appearance of a frosted, iced over lake. Attire: Like all Glacial Knights, Sikarthis dons a uniquely crafted set of armor made of extremely hard and durable ice, though he had changed quite a bit of it throughout the centuries. His armor consists of shoulder pauldrons, a cuirass with an attached groin and thigh guard, flexible 'mail and micro-plate' sleeve coverings that extend over his hands, and a pair of greaves. Sikarthis has long chosen to forfeit the use of a helm, choosing instead a simple head wrap that leaves little more than the area around his eyes exposed. This has serves the dual purposes of protecting him from smoke and similiar battlefield hazards as well as keeping his identity hidden from his enemies. Much of this armor is lighter than the kind commonly worn by Glacial Knights and therefore not quite as good at protecting him from harm. This does mean however that he is significantly more flexible and agile than most of his fellows, allowing him to make full use of his weapon of choice and the fighting style that goes with it. When not wearing his armor Sikarthis wears a simple covering over his genitalia for decency's sake. Personality: Among the speciesist Glacial Knights Sikarthis is counted as one of the most difficult members of leadership to pinpoint in terms of political standing. While he makes no attempt to hide his contempt and irritation towards those outside his own species it has not gone unnoticed that he has little praise or time even for his fellow Knights. Added to that are recent rumors that he and the Haderlock envoy Tári Númenessë have been attending to one another at night, further putting doubts on his views towards outsiders. Whatever his actual stance on the matter, none can argue that he is unfit for his current position as both lead diplomat and renowned lieutenant for Glaces. Renowned for his cold, calculating approach to both diplomacy and war, Sikarthis views every conversation, debate, engagement and even every tumble in the sheets as a battle of wits and wills where one side must come out on top. Lacking nothing for patience he bides his time in all matters, feigning disinterest or foolishness until such a time that he can make use of an opponent's overconfidence or laxness to gain the upper hand. This approach to life has won him many battles and enemies, both on the field and inside the walls of Glaces. Despite any misgivings about his views on foreigners his success as a commander and a tactician have also earned him great respect from those serving under him and it is rare to find him without attendants or hanger-ons looking for approval or handouts. He is fond of using simple board games as a means of gauging his opponents off of the battlefield as well, much to the irritation of several of his regular correspondents. Sikarthis, unlike the rest of his kind, has for the past century had his gaze turned towards the south, past the borders of the Northlands and into The Wilderness where he claims untold power and resources await his people. His fellow officers (and indeed the general himself) have attempted to dissuade him from that line of thought, pointing out that the distance, weather difference, and manpower required to make such an expedition and hold any territory claimed would stretch thin their already small numbers. Were he more approachable Sikarthis might find allies in his arguments but as it were his blunt, callous approach to dealing with others does not translate well to making friends or good first impressions. Some have wondered how he managed to become the finest diplomat in Glaces given this fact. Hobbies/interests: Sikarthis generally spends his free time locked away in his chambers while inside the walls of Glaces, reading from an extensive and ever expanding library of scrolls, tomes, tablets and carvings on a variety of subjects. Often his focus is on military and political history and the tactics of the past, both inside and outside of the Northlands. Trade with Haderlock has given him many a new avenue with which to pursue this interest. Not content just read about such matters, it is not uncommon to find Sikarthis one of the many training halls about Glaces, practicing constantly to turn studied material into practical, proven techniques. As Tári Númenessë is currently the only ambassador in Glaces he has recently spent a sizable amount of time verbally sparring with her about matters both important and inane. The two have also taken to bouncing languages off the other in a sort of impromptu dialect trade. So far Sikarthis has learned more words in more languages for the male genitalia than he had likely been expecting. Skills: Sikarthis speaks several languages and dialects thanks to his centuries of dedicated study, though his understanding of some is more rudimentary at best. Diplomacy is also a strong suit of his and he is well known for his ability to gain the upper hand (or at least even the playing field) in even the most seemingly one sided of talks. He for finding Backstory: While it is no mystery that Sikarthis has risen to two positions of power within Glaces few seem to recall exactly how it was that he managed to reach the heights he has today. Many attribute his position and power to connections within the king's court while others talk of favoritism from the general. In reality however Sikarthis rose through the ranks as anyone did, from the very bottom upwards by his own hand. Low ranking soldiers themselves, the young Glacial Knight was groomed for war long before he had reached even his first decade of life. In the years before his enlistment into the military proper Sikarthis had little interaction with his family outside of daily training when they were stationed inside of Glaces, preferring instead to spend his time out by the harbor watching and waiting for ships to come in. Serving as little more than a foot soldier for half of his first century of life Sikarthis drew the attention of his commanding officers through his tactical insight and prowess with his redaktsyia on the battlefield. The young soldier was difficult not to notice, his unwillingness to back down from a challenge and his apparent skill making it quite clear to his superiors that he intended to do better for himself than his low ranking parents ever had for themselves. From there it was not long until he was leading small squads of his own men and eventually taking orders directly from the general himself. No matter the task Sikarthis proved himself to be an able and adaptable commander as well as a talented warrior. After two centuries of continually proving his worth there were few above him who could deny that a lieutenant's rank was his by rights and even those detractors fell silent on the day that Sikarthis held a mountain pass with a small number of soldiers at his command against a force several times their size. Despite heavy losses, his own parents among them, Sikarthis managed not only to drive back the assaulting force but even beheaded the enemy commander in single combat before leading a counter attack that left the enemy force entirely shattered. A lieutenant's rank now attached to his name, Sikarthis was able to focus on other matters of interests him, namely the study of history and diplomacy. Three decades of study brought him to a point where he believed he could match wits with the best of them and it quickly became apparent to those in Glaces that he was right. As the decades have passed his studies have continued alongside his military career, his experience in both expanding along with his power within the ranks of the general populace. Recently, with the trade between Glaces and Haderlock as well as the arrival of their diminutive ambassador, Sikarthis has stepped up his discussions about expanding south of the Frost River. So far few have been willing to give the idea much thought. Family: Both of Sikarthis' parents died in battle under his command. They were low ranking soldiers of little importance and therefore not worth mentioning as far as he is concerned. Relationships: Tári Númenessë | Questionable | Frienemy | As cunning as she is small, yet overly fond of vulgarities. Little more than an irritating elf in my book. And yet... Weaponry: Large: Sikarthis carries into battle the same weapon he has carried since the first day he stepped onto a battlefield, a redaktsyia (Bladestaff in the Iceman tongue) forged from the same enchanted ice as all Glacial Knight weapons. Perfectly balanced and fairly light despite its size, this polearm gives Sikarthis an impressive amount of flexibility in how he uses it as well as quite a bit of breathing room to work with. The weapon is around ten nine feet in height, the extremely sharp and durable blade making up three of those feet. (It's basically just a really big, reinforced naginata) Medium: Though he rarely uses it, Sikarthis possesses a short sword measuring roughly two and a half feet in length. It is crafted from the same material as his polearm, though the design is less elegant and more designed around causing maximum trauma upon retracting a stab. Small Abilities: Centuries of study, training, and combat experience have turned Sikarthis into one of the most dangerous warriors in the Northlands, his icy polearm leaving bloody trails through the air as it cleaves through flesh and bone alike. Lethality and grace mark his every movement, from the way he seems to dance away from blows to the twirling of his hands as he slices through the neck of a hapless foe. With his body tempered and his mind razor sharp it is no wonder that he has amassed a collection of heads belonging to the commanders and champions who faced him in battle and lost. Where Sikarthis is truly skilled however is in his grasp of military tactics and his ability to marshal men to his side. Few lieutenants are as capable of inspiring their soldiers into an unwavering fighting machine or playing mind games with an enemy commander until he finds himself surrounded and half his troops dead at his feet as Sikarthis is. Weaknesses: Along with all of the usual weaknesses common among Glacial Knights Sikarthis adheres to a strict warrior code (and a nagging voice in the back of his head) that prevents him from turning away from most challenges presented to him. Given the choice he will gladly face an opposing force twice his size with little more than a handful of men, so sure of his own abilities that he fails to foresee any negative outcome. His attitude towards others is also often a hindrance, as despite his current positions within the Glacial Knight society he has little in the way of allies or friends and even less luck making any outside of his species. With this comes an unwillingness to accept support from most individuals, seeing it as a sign of weakness when he cannot rely fully on himself. Some within Glaces would say that the recent arrival of a certain ambassador has also count as a weakness, though not within his earshot. Companion: Loshad' - A horse made of enchanted ice. Loyal, quiet, and with an attitude quite similar to his master's. Other: Capricus

Under the Red Sun: Open-World Fantasy Roleplay

Buncha scrublets wat wat

Black Fall [Superhuman/City/Character Driven]

Achille, Sugar, & Shannon

Achille might not have noticed the older girl until later if she hadn't spoken up after his untimely collision with the small red headed child. She was not quite as eyecatching, (at least not to him) with the look of someone who either didn't quite go out of her way to be the center of attention or simply didn't want people to notice her if at all possible. That was not to say she entirely faded into the background though. The red dress she wore draped down to around shin length before falling away to a flash of skin followed shortly by a pair of black lace boots, all putting her in sharp contrast to the neon glow of the surrounding arcade cabinets. It even sparkled a bit which Achille thought was a nice touch. Even if he had failed to notice her initially though he was more than able to recognize the tone in her voice. It boded ill, to say the least.

"Hey! Can you watch where you're going?" Six little words and a single contraction were all it took for Achille to get the feeling that he had stumbled into the wrong little girl (not to say there was a right little girl to stumble into of course.) Achille was almost poised to offer a second apology at the tone of her voice alone when the redheaded child spoke up, apparently not quite as irritated as the other now that she had her glasses back atop her nose.

"Oooooh, I can help you, Mister." Fantastic. His attention back on the child, Achille waited with bated breath. As she pointed out the coin slot he nodded his head, having noticed it on the other cabinets earlier. In retrospect it seemed a bit obvious that the machines would use coins but as someone who rarely carried around any monetary assets smaller than a ten dollar bill change had never really played a part in his daily life. In fact, the only thing he had on him at the moment was a debit card tied to one of his bank accounts and a hundred dollar bill, smiling at him wryly from the inside of his wallet. Apparently the young girl (had he heard the other girl call her 'Sugar'? Odd name.) lacked even change as she dug into the pockets of her dress (also red, though slightly longer on her than the other girl.). Undeterred, she latched onto the other girl and tried to barter for a loan at the Bank of Red and Angry.

Suppressing a chuckle as the older girl sighed in resignation and handed over a neat little column of coins, Achille watched with amusement as 'Sugar' (Got to ask about that name...) lost her focus on explaining the fine art of Arcade-ing and fell back into eating pixels and chasing ghosts. Aware of the somewhat awkward situation he had landed the older girl in (and hoping to apologize for apparently irritating her earlier) Achille turned his attention to her instead, the corners of his mouth curling upwards ever so slightly into a tiny grin that wasn't aggressively friendly. She didn't seem the type to appreciate his usual brand of 'Dive in up to your neck' affection and affability.

"I feel I should apologize to you for putting you through the trouble of feeding my curiosity miss." He said, his tone showing his embarrassment quite clearly, "I don't get around the town as much as I used to these days with work and all of life's little troubles so when I find a place like this I tend to get a bit swept up and forget myself. I honestly hadn't expected her to take me up on my request. Though," He chuckled, "it doesn't look like she's regretting the decision." Shifting his weight, he reached around his back and pulled out his wallet, "Once the little one is done there you let me know how much I owe you. Least I can do."

Shannon almost immediately cursed herself when this big buffoon started talking. But she knew better than to curse in front of Blathnat. Of course, her younger sister was the only thing keeping Shannon from walking away... but, on the flipside, Shannon could tell him off like she did with those other two guys again. Since Blathnat clearly isn't paying attention to her. So glued to her games... I hope she is happy. Well, he seems to be affable to say the least. Offering to give her money? Over what has to be a simple demonstration of the machine? Shannon didn't know what this man's aim was, but she was always ready to assume the worst. She always had her guard up, and never let it down. That's what kept her out of trouble... and away from the people that she despised so much.

"It is fine..." Shannon huffed, looking at the floor, almost purposely avoiding eye-contact with him. Until she had raised her head and turned those brown eyes towards Achille to meet them. "Blath- Sugar's nice, likes to help people... but as you can tell... she doesn't have much of an attention-span...." Shannon crossed her arms, and let out a puff of air front in between her lips. Niceness will only carry Sugar so far, yes. Eventually it's going to get in her more trouble than naught. At least Shannon learned beforehand that the world doesn't give you anything for being "nice".

Now, she needed to handle the matter of getting money... The last thing she wanted was to be in debt to a complete stranger. While she was in a "tight-spot" when it came to money, what would be worse would be trying to take the easy way out. "Sorry, but it's fine." Shannon quietly quipped, while she pushed out her palm until it came in contact with the man's leather wallet, and, thus, she pushed it into his chest. It was the best thing to do right now. "Only a few quarters. It's nothing."

Finally, she figured that she should get formalities out of the way. Didn't matter, since the chances of meeting this man again was slim to none. "Just to get this out of the way, my name is Shannon." She leaned back up against the machine and kept her arms firmly around her chest. Brown eyes drifted towards her little sister as she realized that Blathnat was so caught up in her game that she was absolutely oblivious to the world. Shannon poked her lips out and pressed them together. Eyes were on Sugar. "Her name is Sugar." Shannon had to introduce the child to Achile herself. Seriously, if Shannon wasn't here, this man might have been able to snatch her. But, long as she's breathing, that will never.

"Can't say I've ever met a 'Sugar' before," Achille said, replacing his wallet with a shrug. He hadn't really expected the girl, Shannon, the accept in the first place but he was always willing to go the extra mile with people. "Kill em with kindness" as the saying went. "Can't say I haven't met someone her age who doesn't have a bit of trouble keeping focused either." He chuckled a bit, something from his childhood coming to mind. "She could be much worse though. I used to be a right terror at her age... assuming her age is around 9. I had a bad habit of going to the theatre with my grandfather and ending up on the roof shouting out lines from the plays at anyone passing by. I'm fairly certain they've still banned me from going near the roof access stairwell there."

"Somewhat correct," Shannon shrugged and adjusted her glasses. She calmly listened to the rest of Achille's story. "She's eight." She sighed. Achille's story was sounded insignificant at first, but Shannon managed to get some insight out of him. Hm. He seemed like the troublesome type when he was younger (I hope he dropped that habit.). But that wasn't the point. The man seemed to have gone to the theatre... Movie theatre? Or the classy theatres like the Columbiana where they preform excellent plays? She could ask him, but she wasn't sure if he was "worth" a conversation. For now, Shannon had no choice but to continue the idle small-talk. At least until she has a good reason to call him out, and send him on his way. "And 'Sugar' is a nickname.... but I don't think she'd appreciate me telling anyone her real name." Shannon felt the chuckle building up inside of her, but she choose to keep it down. She didn't want this man getting the idea that she was getting friendly with him, after all.

Shrugging again, he turned his eyes back on Sugar and her game, watching the pixels race around and around the pre-set stage. He almost missed being able to lose himself in an activity as much as the young girl could. Almost. He certainly didn't miss the toothaches, awkward realization that girls had bits he wanted to see, or that time in the fifth grade where his PE teacher had tried to make him do laps in the pool wearing a girls swimsuit. Achille shivered and locked that memory away where it belonged. Hoping to distract himself from that line of thought, he pressed on with his conversation, his eyes still locked on the game all the while.

"Do you two come here a lot? I'd assume it'd be easy for her" he nodded at Sugar, "to spend an entire day in here on these machines. Though I suppose it'd get pretty expensive and tiring to do this sort of thing on a normal basis for most people in the city, especially this time of year when the Fair is getting on it's feet and everyone is running around to watch the floats and performers." He took a quick glance at his phone's lock screen, eying the time on the digital face. Still had quite a bit of time before the Fair would even begin so he wasn't too worried about this meeting going on for awhile if that's how it played out.

An easy answer, for a simple question. Shannon and Sugar rarely come by Arcadia Heights for anything other than a special occasion. So they rarely got to side the "pride" and "joy" of the city for themselves. Shannon shrugged, "I'm going to be completely honest here when I say that this is my first time coming here." She answered with a lack of emotion in her voice. It was hard to get talking about things with a complete stranger... though, he isn't that bad, she had to admit. But not enough for her to drop her guard. "You should see this place in the summer time," She added, "It gets loaded with tourists who want to indulge themselves on boring beaches and hit on girls.... Which is why I like this place in the Fall season... Less annoying people to deal with." In her eyes, it was only slightly less, but an improvement.

He was slightly worried about Shannon's apparent lack of a desire to contribute to their conversation beyond bits and pieces but Achille was used to that with most strangers when he first spoke to them. Soon they were all like Simone back at the bakery though. Well OK, not exactly like Simone. Most weren't quite as determined to marry him into their families. Seeing an opportunity to turn the conversation in an unexpected and possibly more fruitful direction, Achille turned back to Shannon, a sly grin on his face.

"Have either of you been to the Big Top?" He jerked his head in the directions he estimated the Black Fall Big Top was in relation to the Arcade. If she wasn't going to accept some cash then maybe she'd accept a bit of free entertainment for herself and Sugar. He got the feeling that looking after the kid as she was obviously doing might leave Shannon a bit less receptive to strangers like himself and there were few things in the city that could turn irritation into fascination than watching Sven arm wrestle one of the elephants into submission.

Big Top...? Now Shannon has heard of that place, a Circus in this very district that has it all. Elephants! High flying stunts! Excitement... Not Shannon's thing, when it came down to it. She was certain that Deborah and Sugar would love it, but she digressed. She wouldn't go there without one of them. "Heard of it, but I have never gone there." She answered Achille, and never took her eyes off of him.

On Sugar's side of things, she was actually tackling this game. Under the little Princess's hand, she managed to collect a majority of the orbs. The ghosts were closing in! But it wasn't too late to pick up the power-up and gobble up some ghosts! Speaking of Ghosts, her familiar was still watching over her. Standing exactly behind her, he stood statically, but was always ready to follow Sugar's wishes. He listened to the conversation... while he took a more passive role, he always made sure that Sugar was aware. Because there was so much he could do and remain a secret. Far as he could tell, there was no immediate danger in her presence, but he knew that there was something that Sugar would enjoy later. After reading Achille's thoughts briefly, he knew exactly what he was planning. However, it was entirely up to his Mistress whether or not she would even give him the opportunity. He is the loyal Servant, never faltering, after all.

With a simple telepathic urge, Sugar's eyes were pried away from the machine, and she turned that small head of hers towards Achille, giving him her full attention. Hands were still on the controls. Of course, since she wasn't paying attention, she had to rely on Sir Reginald:

"Have either of you been to the Big Top?"

Hm? No she has not, actually. But she'd love to! She heard of the place and from what she was told, it was a circus! In her kingdom. They can give her the Princess treatment! She simply shook her head from left to right, a clear indicator of what her answer was. Following it up with a meek, "No, Sir, I haven't been there." She was about to turn her attention back to the game, but this was no time for games! Sir Reginald told her that something important was happening here, and she had to pay attention. It was her duty. "But, it's like a circus, right?" She looked away for a second, and her expression changed from a smile to a more neutral, somber, expression. She thought about it for a moment (after she said it).

Achille was taken aback for a moment at the sudden shift in Sugar's interest, leaving him wondering how long she'd been paying attention to their conversation. He might have been slightly ashamed at talking about her when he thought she wasn't listening too if she didn't show such an interest in the Big Top. He switched gears immediately, his posture going from that of a relaxed observers to a showman selling to an audience, the large grin on his face only serving to fortify the change.

"Exactly!" He practically yelled, reining in his volume and enthusiasm near the end to avoid making the situation awkward. Also he didn't want to spook Sugar. She didn't seem like the most confident kid for some reason. "We've got everything down there! Lions, horseback riders, fire eaters. We've even got a few orangutans who can almost reenact the 2004 presidential deba-" he stopped himself. "Right you wouldn't get that... it's impressive though so that's all that matters. And I", here he stopped to over-dramatically 'fix' his collar and dust off his sleeves, "can get the two of you in for free. As re-compensation for showing me how the Arcade works of course. No strings attached or debt to be paid."

"Whoa..." Sugar seemed enticed by Achille's offer, yes. She thought it'd be incredible. The animals, the stunts, the tricks. All preformed for her! Princess of the Black Fall kingdom. She wondered if any magicians would be there... not the kind of "Magician" you'd think of when you hear the word. But Sugar believed that all Meta-humans were "magicians", due to her lack of understanding of them, and therefore, she knew that they were magical in nature. Opposed to... whatever they were.

Achille had thrown in that last part for Shannon's sake. He wasn't sure if she had declined his earlier offer out of pride or suspicion but he figured if he could eliminate one of the possibilities he might get her approval. Besides, he had time to kill and he saw no reason that he couldn't entertain some strangers on a chilly day like this. His other plan had been to mess around at the arcade for an hour before driving back home for a quick two hour nap to prep for the Fair.

Lions and tigers and... whatever else that stupid saying said. Doesn't matter. It was clear that Mr. Achille really wanted to repay them - that, or he was really eager to rope them into whatever scheme he had planned (That grin doesn't help, sir...). Shannon had found herself indecisive, really. She could turn down the man and never speak to him again. But would she really be cold enough to rob Sugar of a chance to see this circus for herself? Answer was no, but if she were to go, this man better not try anything shifty like go behind stage and expect them to be his groupies. "Hmmm..." She hummed to herself, thinking really hard. Before letting out a sigh, closing her eyes, and tilting her head downwards somewhat. Almost like she was defeated. "Very well, you present an offer I cannot refuse.... but backstage passes are not necessary." Shannon was quick to add, hoping to shoot down any schemes. Nope, she planned on staying in the watchful eye of the public.

"Yay!" Sugar didn't even have to say anything, all she did while Achille talked was wait. She was going to the circus! It was going to be fun. She had completely forgotten about her game... which she lost so hard that the hidden fist was going to deploy.

"Yay!" Achille mimicked, punching the air a few times in celebration of his triumph over adversity and other such nonsense. Truth be told he was a bit excited about showing these two the Big Top. Granted, the actual show was cancelled for the night with most of the performers assisting the Fair, but he was sure he could get at least two of the elephant handlers on board to put on a bit of an act for them. Getting Sven and the others however... that would be trickier. But[/b, he thought to himself as he collected his composure and jangled his keys for his two soon-to-be guests to see, [b]that's a hurdle to jump later. It was then that Achille realized he had forgotten something important.

"Before we go however," he said, practically diving into a low, sweeping bow towards both ladies and cocking his head just enough for them to see his charming little grin, "I'm Achille, Ringmaster at the Black Fall Big Top. At your very own service."

Black Fall [Superhuman/City/Character Driven]

"Hey Ringmaster! Don't forget the breadsticks tonight 'aight?"

Ah yes, Achille thought to himself as he finished wrapping the thick woolen scarf around his neck, the call of the wild co-worker being treated to free food. Some weeks I fear I might forget it's sweet, sweet sound. Internalized sarcasm aside, Achille didn't mind the ribbing he was getting from everyone at the Black Fall Big Top that afternoon, having lost fair and square against his fellow acrobat Jessica not two hours earlier in the final act of last show of the day. Normally the Big Top had two shows in a single day, one before the afternoon and one in the evening, the evening show being significantly smaller and more catered to an older audience that would fully appreciate the belly dancers, knife throwers, and lack of clowns. Tonight however the show had been cancelled to allow for some of the performers to lend their crafts to the Christmas Fair. Achille had not, much to his secret joy, been one of those asked to do so. Instead he was in charge of purchasing dinner for the entire troupe, a task he was looking forward to. It was difficult for Achille to be unhappy about anything where good food was involved.

Slipping on his dress coat, Achille gave the list on his phone one final reading before heading out.

• 12 extra large pizzas - 'get whatever just no bacon'


• Six bread bowl soups- half clam chowder half chicken noodle


• Three pitchers of beer, one bottle of vodka, one jug of mead


• Three 'Everything and Then Some' orders from 'Wok the Wok' down in Chinatown.


• 'The hottest goddamn peppers you can find I'm going to get Marcus this week I swear to god man'

That last item was a bit of a special request straight from one of the elephant handlers, a small balding man with glasses who went by George. He and one of the other handlers had been locked in a sort of not-so-cold Cold War where they would attempt to one up the other by means of ever escalating practical jokes and pranks. It was all in good fun of course and the elephants didn't seem to mind being dragged into the friendly conflict now and then either so that was a bonus. Achille added in a quick note about asking for a ghost pepper at a few stores before locking the phone and slipping it into his coat pocket.

It was only around eleven when Achille exited the Big Top into the sprawling parking lot that lay beyond, the snow that had lain thick and heavy across the blacktop that morning now thankfully cast aside into huge mounds of white crystal that would have shimmered had the sun been out in its full glory. Achille made his way to his car as quickly as he could, swearing softly as he fumbled for his keys in the brisk winter air. Despite his enjoyment of snow and wet weather in general, Achille's body was possessed of a rather poor tolerance for the cold which made even the slightest breezes shiver inducing. Finally locating his keys and mashing the unlock button, Achille threw open the door to his car, a 2016 model BMW G11 sedan that his grandfather Ermes had purchased for him a few months earlier on his birthday to celebrate his work at the Big Top. It was a nice car even if the mileage wasn't the greatest, with plenty of head and legroom for someone his size thanks to the adjustable seating and telescoping steering wheel. It also heated up fast which was all that Achille cared about as he practically dove inside, pulling the door shut behind him as he turned the key in the ignition and cranked the heat all the way up.

With the air inside the vehicle quickly warming up and a list of orders to make, Achille wasted no time in pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street that would take him to his first stop at the closest bakery, a small place owned by an older couple originally from Tuscany that he had taken to visiting every week due to their wide and delicious selection of breads and their skill with a stone brick pizza oven. Making sure to call ahead, Achille was met at the door by the owner and his wife, Sebastian and Simone. Simone was a diminutive woman of around fifty two who had a kind, motherly face that drew in customers almost as well as the aroma of the couples handiwork. Her husband, by contrast, was burdened with a face that seemed to always be locked in an expression of extreme boredom or mild constipation. Sebastian had never spoken a word in Achille's presence, possibly because his wife never left room for him to add to any conversation. Achille was well prepared for the verbal tango she would spring on him before he even stepped through the front door.

"Achille! My poor skinny boy!" Simone's usual greeting to him. She seemed to think anyone under the age of thirty should be as chunky as a two month old infant. "Tell me, what has you calling us in such a hurry today? A hot date maybe? Come to buy a bouquet of baguettes for a lucky someone?" Achille shook his head and grinned.

"Afraid not. Do have a big order for you though if you're up for it." Simone held out her hand as Achille offered his phone to her, the list blown up on the screen. Giving it only a passing glance she turned it over to her husband who raised an eyebrow, grunted, then walked off towards the kitchen after tossing it back. Achille had been at the bakery enough to know that Sebastian had given his approval. Now all he had to do was extract himself before-

"You know Achille," Simone suddenly crooned at his side, her arm interlocked with his own. Achille sometimes forgot that Simone was a meta-human herself, she and her husband both sharing varying degrees of speed acceleration that made managing an order as large as his quite easy. It also made trapping young bachelors like himself a joke. "I have the most beautiful granddaughter. She is the tesoro of Tuscany I always say. She's a quiet little thing, soft on the eyes and on the ears; a perfect wife one might imagine. If, of course, she met the right young man...?"

"Simone you know I'm not ready for that kind of thing." Achille chuckled nervously, a slight flush reddening his cheeks. She always did this to him. "Besides, isn't she dating that chef down at the Rising Sun?" Simone made a face and waved her hand dismissively.

"That good for nothing? He tried to tell her to use her powers for food delivery. Can you believe that? No man worthy of being my granddaughter's husband would let his wife to be run about in this dangerous town delivering greasy gutter food."

"And the sous chef you were talking about last wee-"

"He moved to France with one of the waiter boys."

"Did he? Well I guess that will happen when you meet the right one, ey? But listen, Simone, I've really got to get going." With a bit of awkward twisting and what felt like momentarily dislocating his shoulder Achille managed to free his arm from the matchmaker's death grip. "I'll be back around six for the food if that's alright. As long as they're warm I don't think the troupe will care when you make them." Knowing she had failed to catch her quarry yet again Simone blew a small raspberry before crossing her arms and huffing.

"You never bring in any girls with you. Or boys." she said crossly, clearly having hoped for a bit more time to grill him, "What am I supposed to tell the other mothers at poker night?" Achille laughed and shot her another smile as he prepared to brave the windy wastes once more.

"Tell them that if they want their kids or grandkids to get a look at me that we're always selling tickets at the Big Top." He ducked out of the store before she could brain him with a loaf of pretzel bread.

Things went significantly smoother after escaping Simone, the traffic on the street moving at a surprisingly acceptable rate given the preparations and rerouting the Fair was causing. It took twenty minutes to arrive in Chinatown and not even a quarter of that to place his order with the bright eyed young boy sitting behind the desk at the entrance, 'Wok the Wok' being another family owned business that Achille liked to frequent both for its food and it's people. Despite asking numerous times Achille had yet to get the boy's name out of him. Around the 'Wok' he was referred to simply as 'boy' or 'you'. Either way, the boy was a frequent attendee to his shows down at the Big Top so he always lit up like a christmas tree whenever Achille walked in to order. He even managed to talk to one of the shop owners in the 'town about acquiring some hotter than usual peppers (after informing him several times that, no, he would not like to purchase a bear cub).

With a bag of strangely shaped peppers on his terminal and quite a few hours to kill before he would have to pick up the food, Achille drove back to Arcadia heights, placing a pickup order at the liquor store for later that night on the way and arriving shortly after the digital clock on his dashboard hit 12:00 PM. A detour along the way took Achille down a street he'd been on numerous times, though he'd only been in several of the establishments that it boasted. One of the ones he recalled never having entered caught his eye, a large building that strongly resembled some of the old theaters Achille had seen in movies and shows before. The neon sign brightly proclaimed the eye catching structure as being the 'ARCADE BLUES'. Achille had heard quite a lot about the place from his co-workers and his sister, though he always seemed to forget about it whenever he had free time to explore the city.

Well, he thought to himself as he started to look for a decent parking spot nearby, I've got the time now so why the hell not. After several more minutes of searching Achille managed to find a spot, slipping the sedan neatly into the open space and hiding the peppers away in a small cooler he kept in the back seat for occasions such as this before exiting the vehicle and making his way across the street to the storefront. If the exterior of the Arcade was interesting then the interior was doubly so. Rows upon rows of neatly lines cabinets housing arcade games of all sorts and seemingly from any time frame. Achille recognized a few of the titles like Pac-Man and Galaga but the rest were foreign to him.. Needless to say his interest was piqued. He also had no clue how anything worked in an arcade. Content to just watch for now, Achille wandered the aisles for a time, occasionally watching others mash away at the buttons and joysticks before moving further into the store.

Turning a corner sharply he nearly bowled over a small red headed child, pulling himself to an abrupt halt before he could so much as bump into her thankfully. She appeared to be playing Pac-Man, at least for the moment. Figuring he could use the situation to his advantage, Achille adjusted his scarf and gave the girl a courteous smile.

"Oh! Sorry about that little miss. Nearly flattened you there. Say, would you happen to know how I go about actually... playing anything here?" He rubbed the back of his neck as his smile turned sheepish. "Never been to an arcade before I'm afraid."

Black Fall [Superhuman/City/Character Driven]

Brock levels of pun-itude have been reached and surpassed. Worry not.

Black Fall Character Deposit

Achille Sinagra

Basic Information

Name: Achille Sinagra
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Leeroy Brown (to his grandfather), 'Ringmaster' (to his coworkers), 'Caesar' (those who know him at the Columbia Theatre House)
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Height: 6'5" or 195 cm
Weight: 220 lbs or 99 kg
Home District: The Northlands

Appearance

Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Green
Ethnicity: Caucasian. Primarily of Italian/Roman and Irish descent.
Physical Appearance:

If there was ever a word to describe Achille, it would be statuesque. For more reason than one. Towering above most people his age and dressed spick and span, Achille is both easily recognizable by those who know him and a point of interest for those who don't. Often wearing a bright smile or a wry grin, Achille exudes an air of cheerfulness and laid back enjoyment wherever he goes. His movements are often purposely exaggerated and his size combined with the length of his legs and arms often make such exaggeration all the more comedic to behold, something he is both aware of and always taking advantage of to get a smile out of people. Of all his features Achille is quite possibly the most proud of his beard. Thick, well groomed and kept to an exact length of two and a half inches, Achille insists that his showmanship and people skills are derived entirely from his facial hair. "Much like that one guy in the bible who beat a bunch of people to death with a donkey or something." as he is fond of stating. Along with his beard Achille is blessed (or cursed depending on your preference) with all the features that mark him as having a strong Roman heritage. Bright green almond shaped eyes, pronounced cheekbones, a defined jawline, and a nose any Princep would gladly have carved into stone all combine to give Achille the appearance of a Statesman reborn.

Achille's beard isn't the only hair on his body of course and his Italian genes have seen fit to make sure he is never at a loss for hair across his body. With a head of thick, black hair on top of his head and more covering his legs, thighs, arms and chest it's a wonder he doesn't have difficulty swimming from all the added resistance. His eyebrows bring to mind large bushy caterpillars, albeit better groomed ones. His hair is generally left to do as it pleases and he keeps it cut in such a way that it at least stays off his forehead, ears and neck. Even without the physical demands of his work, Achille keeps himself in shape, working out on a daily basis whenever possible and taking many a weekend off to enjoy a bit of the outdoors. While he's far from having a six pack or guns worthy of the gun show, he is pleased to at least boast an above average amount of muscle with a bit of fat to balance things out. His body shape could best be defined as trapezium. Numerous accidents of varying severity with his ability have left him with a few scars, the most noticeable being a two inch scar on his left cheeckbone.

Attire:

As one might guess of someone who comes from no small amount of money and holds a career in putting on a show, Achille dresses to impress (though exactly WHO he's trying to impress is a question nobody is sure about.) Around his place of work Achille is often sporting the full ringmaster attire, top hat, high boots, black trousers and fancy long tailed coat all included. Outside of work however he restricts himself to more modern clothing choices. Oftentimes this consists of dress shoes, pants and shirts, a tie of one form or another, and a vest. Wet weather (which is not uncommon in Black Fall of course) usually calls for a dress coat and scarf, the latter of which Achille has no shortage of. Despite his access to and preference for dress clothing he also has a sizable collection of more casual wear that he changes into whenever he's doing anything that might involve getting dirty or sweaty. His favorite of these is a shirt simply reading "Mega Milk" on the front. After an incident where his sister accidentally borrowed the shirt Achille has since kept it locked away to preserve his sanity.

Personality

Personality:

To strangers Achille seems to be a very cheerful, if somewhat strange, young man who is always greeting others with a smile and a bright hello. He has a seemingly unshakeable love of people regardless of who they are and he find it difficult to think negatively about anyone. He's quick to initiate conversation with those he doesn't know, often shamelessly sharing details about himself that most people would reserve for close friends. In conversation he is both laid back and warm, clearly enjoying every moment spent in his opposites company. While he's not the smartest person around, Achille does seem to possess a natural affinity for getting on with people and shaping social situations to his liking with the ease of a skilled potter working clay. Honesty is something that comes naturally to him and he speaks in such a way that could be described as both polite, but to the point.

Actions come easier to Achille than thinking things through, something that has often led him into trouble in the past. Regardless of the sometimes negative impacts of this, Achille is adamant that he follows what his heart tells him is right. As far as he's concerned that includes avoiding violence except as a last resort for self defense, helping others when possible, and trying to make everyone's day a little bit better. He associates the most with an egalitarian worldview, seeing nearly everyone as being worthy of respect and a kind word regardless of who they were born to or what they are. As such he is an adamant fighter against ignorance and the concepts of revenge and getting even. It goes without saying that because of his hatred of violence Achille is protective of nearly anyone, which can be difficult at times as that also encompasses those who wish to do him harm on occasion. He believes in self sacrifice for the good of the many, so long as the one doing the sacrificing is himself.

All of that being said however, Achille is not all smiles and sunbeams. In the company of his family, with the exception of his grandfather Ermes and sister Eo, Achille becomes sullen and withdrawn, rarely speaking up or responding to stimuli outside of grunts and slight gestures. To his father he is nothing if not cold, either outright ignoring him or, when pressed, responding curtly and with no hint of warmth in his voice. On several occasions their arguments have exploded into shouting matches that have led Achille to seclude himself in his room for several days before recovering his signature bright eyes smile. While he is a forgiving person who tries to see the good in everyone, Achille has a specific distaste for those who believe violence and hatred can be used to achieve good things, making his disdain for their existence quite clear by the hardness in his expression and the way he speaks to them. It has been noted by his coworkers that Achille is almost terrifyingly hard on himself, demanding perfection from nobody but himself when it comes to his acts and holding himself to such a high moral standard that others have wondered if he might break should a day come that those morals put someone at risk.

Careful observers might note that Achille does not, in fact, have any close friends and almost seems to go out of his way at times to avoid obtaining any. Those who knew Achille when he was younger but have only recently gotten in touch with him again have noted that he is significantly different than he used to be. He is always quick to change the subject.

Hobbies/Interests:

Achille's main interests revolve primarily around his line of work. Juggling, fire-breathing, tightrope walking, animal taming, lady... beard... growing. You get the idea. If it pertains to the people who work with him or the business of running a circus in question, it interests Achille. Outside of his work however Achille has a sizable amount of other interests and even a few hobbies with which to pass the time.

"No matter how much you kiss it, your body pillow will never love you back": Achille, despite himself, enjoys his chinese cartoons as much as the next man. While he is (thankfully) far from being a Japan obsessed, socially stunted shut in who gets sweaty at the thought of Waifu-chan's sweet bosoms flapping in the wind, Achille secretly prides himself on his pointless knowledge on a large number of Japan's finest 2D creations. Kamen Rider is a guilty pleasure for him, though he refuses to admit it. He may or may not also be a member of a series of image boards where he argues with people about things related to this interest that would make his parents even more disappointed in him (if that were physically possible of course. Read: It isn't.)

"Et tu, Brute?": Theater! The lights, the sounds, the music, the stories! What more could one man ask for? (a few more stabbings now and then wouldn't hurt the plays Achille thinks but other than that nothing) Achille has attended more than half of the events, performances, or talent searches held at the Columbia Theatre House since the age of seven, all thanks to the patronage of his grandfather, Ermes. By far his favorite production, and the one he's always made a point of attending regardless of his situation in life, is Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar". The actors and crew who know him are aware of this and have taken to calling him 'Caesar' whenever he's about. Achille can likely recite the entire thing by heart at this point.

"Ok but why's the black guy always gotta die first?": Horror movies and horror movies accessories. If its drenched in blood, screaming its head off, or just generally causing puddles of piddle in the cinema, Achille is there in a heartbeat. Almost as devout a cinema follower as he is a theater goer, Achille doesn't much care for most of the modern films being produced these days, instead preferring to look at the 80's and early 90's to satisfy his hunger for cinematic goodness. If the effects aren't practical then it isn't worth watching.

"Everything else": Achille's remaining interests include: Fishing, diving, avoiding family, camping, writing pun laden lit-erotica to post online, sleeping the entire way through a fourth of his days off, and failing to lose the 'Single and Available' status that still hangs like a raincloud over the social media page he created back in middle school but hasn't quite gotten around to deleting yet. He generally hangs out at any spot in the city currently playing jazz music or selling fine food.

Skills/Talents: Despite his interest in the work of his coworkers, Achille has little actual grasp on how to go about emulating what they do. Lions yawn at him, the tightrope throws him off, and the clown car has been totaled at least four times. He has managed to attain some level of skill with throwing knives thanks to losing quite a few bets with the knife throwers, but even then the farthest distance he can boast to accurately hit is little more than 15 feet. There are however things that he can claim to be, if not good, at the very least competent at.

"Look Ma! No hands!": The tightrope may elude Achille but acrobatics are another matter. Aided in no small part by his Hexes, Achille is quite proud of his ability to find new ways to make the crowds that cluster his humble entertainment house gasp in awe with seemingly death defying feats of acrobatic grace. From clearing sizable gaps to leaping over flaming obstacles, he does it all with showmanship and grace.

"It's not my fault I rolled a nat 18 on Charisma": Achille is nothing if not an entertainer and a people person. As someone who genuinely likes people and enjoys understanding them, he takes great pleasure in making others laugh, smile, or at least frown in a humorous way. Bad puns, enthusiastic conversation, a bright smile and sweeping gestures all combine to make Achille a very charismatic, if a bit strange, person.

"Hello. Have you heard of our Lord and Savior, Bread?": Achille can't cook in the slightest. Even microwave Ramen gives the tall, bearded young man a bit of trouble. Strangely enough however, baking (or at least bread baking) is quite the opposite. From shortbread to ice cream bread, Achille has tried it all. Some have come out magnificently, some have burnt to a crisp. Others have taken on sentient existences and currently write angry blog posts about yeast oppression. Always on the lookout for new recipes, it's not uncommon to find Achille wandering the bakeries of Black Fall early in the morning.

"All I'm saying is, if we had a horse for senator things would improve. Right?": Achille may have just barely passed most of his highschool courses, but History was never on that list. Likely due in part to his love of theater and the stories behind the plays themselves, he has always had a thirst for knowledge of the past and the lessons it can teach. Unsurprisingly, knowledge surrounding the Roman empire is high on his list of subjects he can boast extensive information about.

"OK, sure. You could punch him in the face. But you could also NOT get tried for assault and battery.": Violence is bad. While it may feel good and even have some short term benefits for one party, there are only rare cases in history where it has led to anything good down the line. Knowing this, and armed with both his charm and love of people, Achille is always looking for ways to settle things with words and possibly an ice cream cone. He's managed to defuse many a nasty situation on the streets and in his own circus with honeyed words, some well timed jokes, and a tone of voice that shows he cares.

Prized Possession: A top hat of high quality make. Given to him by one of his coworkers, a former ringmaster himself, when he first created his circus, Achille keeps this prized hat close and safe. The coworker in question has since moved on to other things, though Achille keeps him updated on the status of the magnificent hat.
Quote(s):

"People are shitters sure. Mean, rude, violent, and generally nasty. But at the end of the day I don't think that makes anyone a bad person at heart. It's the ones who are none of those things that I worry about."

"If you can make it big in the Big Top you can make it anywhere."

"You know, I'm an accepting guy. I don't care who you are or where you're from or even what you rub your fiddly bits with. But mimes are fucking terrifying."

"I could be laying in the pouring rain with my body broken and my lifeblood flowing into the sewer grates like a red river, and I'd still never call for my dad."

"Nobody is perfect. The ones who are haven't lived."

History/Bio:

Achille Sinagra was born into the world during a record breaking snowstorm on December 27th, 1992 at the Red Wing Medical Center in the city of Black Fall. Born alongside Achille was his brother Dionisio, a surprise bonus as far as their father was concerned. Making his fortune via stocks and banking, their father Severiano Sinagra was one of Black Fall's most influential and wealthy figures and he made certain that his two newborn sons lived their earliest years in comfort and security. Their mother Caitlin Sinagra held the belief that her children should be left to their own devices, more focused on continuing her work as a surgeon once they were old enough to walk on their own than raising them herself. As such, Achille's earliest memories were filled with days spent alone with his brother in their expansive mansion, roaming the empty hallways and little used chambers as they pleased. As the years went by the twins grew closer, accompanying one another in pre-school, kindergarten, and all through the fifth grade. By that time their sister, Eo, had been born and the two young boys took great pride in watching after her once their mother returned once more to focusing on her work. The absence of parenting was not restricted to their mother however, as despite his love of his children Severiano was rarely at home. Instead, much of the necessary life lessons the young Sinagra children were taught came at the hands of their grandparents, Ermes and Flavia Sinagra.

Unlike their son, Ermes and Flavia had made their own fortune in the entertainment industry as a comedy and film duo, retired stars in the industry who still garnered respect from critics and remained patron of the entertainment arts. To the Sinagra children Ermes and Flavia were surrogate parents, filling in the holes left by their absent ones. Achille was encouraged early on to take up some form of acting, the wild tales and strange jokes his young mind created drawing interest from his grandparents. It was they who attended his school plays and witnessed his beaming face as the spotlight fell on him and he turned a room full of mildly bored adults into a room of smiling faces. Such unusually high charisma drew quite a lot of attention to the young boy, and Achille went through much of his early life surrounded by friends and acquaintances of all sorts. As is often the case however, this also led to him becoming a target for bullies and jealousy. Fights become commonplace to Achille and Dionisio as the two were always backing one another up against their harassers. It was during one such fight that the two young boys discovered their meta-human nature. The two were only ten years old at the time.

Twins in more ways than one, Achille and Dionisio shared the same ability to repel and exert kinetic energy, something that might have brought the two closer together. Instead, Achille and his twin began to drift apart, separated into different boarding schools by their parents who feared their sons might bring unwanted attention if they made public use of their untrained powers. For a time the two maintained contact via messages, but eventually even that stopped. Achille turned to the library and theater to fill yet another hole in his life left by an absent family member. That, and the near constant NEST checkups and evaluations, kept him busy for several years. As time went on and he was all but forgotten by his parents, the absence of any close family members changed Achille for the worse. Gone was the smiling, warm young boy who had enthusiastically stumbled headfirst through the entirety of 'McBeth', replaced instead by a colder, more cruel young man who used his charisma to mock and belittle others. The number of fights he was engaged in grew exponentially with each passing year until Achille found himself hanging out alongside youth gangs and taking part in back alley brawls. With each passing year and each new fight the young meta-human learned to better control his power, much to the dismay of those pitted against him.

It wasn't until Achille turned 17 that he was reunited with his brother. As bad as Achille had become, Dionisio was worse. Always the more ornery and easily angered of the two, Dionisio had taken to bullying others far quicker than his brother. Unlike Achille who had kept his violent behavior a secret from their family, Dionisio had reveled in it and made certain his parents were aware. It was their decision to place the two in the same school once more, hoping that Achille might bring his brother to his senses. To a small degree it worked, as Achille kept his twin from causing trouble at their school. To his parents Achille was still the same cheery young man who enjoyed the theater and history books, though his father would have preferred he focus on his studies and work towards a career in banking. Off campus however the twins were an unholy terror, engaging in fights on a near daily basis and narrowly avoiding a run in with the law on several occasions. This trend continued until the two turned 18, culminating in a single event that ended with Dionisio being found guilty for murder and incarcerated, but not before revealing to their parents that Achille had encouraged and shared in his behavior. Placing the blame for Dionisio's actions on their remaining son, Achille's parents sent him off to his newly widowed grandfather, adamant that he return only when he had become an acceptable member of society.

Ermes, despite the loss of his wife, took on the task of changing his grandson for the better with a fiery passion. Dragging the young man to abuse shelters he forced Achille to witness the aftermath of violence and the pain it leaves behind, tasking him with sitting in on the group therapy sessions that were held so that he could hear for himself just how much actions and attitudes like his could cost people. Achille lived the next two years in a similar fashion, accompanying his grandfather to lectures on the effects of violence and hate, and tracking down the people he had hurt to ask for forgiveness. For the first year or so Achille went along with his grandfathers wishes to avoid conflict, not really taking to heart any of the lessons he was being taught. Over time however Achille was becoming more and more affected by the stories he heard and the people he met. He began to see just how deeply he had scared others and how his actions had led to others lashing out in turn, setting off a chain reaction of violence and hate that left untold people hurt. Slowly but surely, Achille was changing for the better, taking a bigger part in the group therapy sessions that he sat in on and engaging with the victims on a more personal level, unknowingly using his charisma to lift others up around him.

The final nail in the coffin of his old self came one day as his grandfather introduced him to the parents of the young woman that Dionisio had killed. Expecting and fully prepared to be berated, hated and even assaulted, Achille was shocked to find that they had forgiven not only him, but also Dionisio for what had occurred. With tears in his eyes he had thanked them, vowing to try and keep anyone else from ending up like he and his brother had become. From there life improved significantly for Achille, at least in most ways. Ermes, using his influence and contacts within the entertainment industry, was able to find Achille a job in the newly restored Black Fall Big Top, a circus troupe that had settled in the city years before but only recently reentered the spotlight as an entertainment attraction. With his restored charm and a strong new love of people, Achille was able to earn himself the place of Ringmaster alongside his role as an acrobat. Moving back in with his family, Achille also reconnected with his sister Eo who had recently discovered her own meta-human abilities and was planning on using them to assist NEST in their endeavors.

With little experience as an acrobat, Achille has spent the past two years growing comfortable in and learning his role to the fullest, his added position as Ringmaster earning him recognition in the entertainment industry as time has passed. Still blaming him for the actions of his twin, the relationship between Achille and his parents has not improved in the slightest and quite possibly falling further into ruin with each fight that occurs between father and son over Achille's career choice. For the time being however, Achille is happy and enjoying life, doing his best to make up for his past actions all the while by making sure others feel the same.

Family:

Grandfather - Ermes Sinagra - 86 years of age
Grandmother - Flavia Sinagra - Deceased at the age of 80
Father - Severiano Sinagra - 51 years of age
Mother - Caitlin Sinagra [Formerly Caitlin O'Dell] - 53 years of age
Sister - Eo Sinagra - 17 years of age - Meta-Human - NEST Trainee
Twin Brother - Dionisio Sinagra - Meta-Human - Currently Incarcerated

Relationships

Abilities

Power Class & Rating: Elemental 6
Power:

Hex Repulsion

Achille possesses the meta-human ability to create translucent hexagonal 'plates' of kinetic force anywhere around his body (More specifically they form about two inches above the surface of his skin) that repel anything from a punch to (untested but theoretically possible) bullets. The Hexes (as he's taken to calling them) in question are never larger in size then one foot in height and two feet in width. Attackers or other physical objects that strike the Hexes are repulsed with a force equal to 3/4th of their own force while energy type projectiles are more likely to be deflected or held at bay. By stacking hexes vertically Achille can create larger barriers at the cost of leaving any part of him not covered by the 3x2 area open for attack. In addition to repelling danger, Achille has learned to make use of his Hexes in other ways.

By repelling himself away from a solid object or another person, Achille can launch himself in nearly any direction at alarming speed. This technique is useful not only for dodging but also for booking it when the going gets tough. This technique can also be used to repel Achille while in the air, allowing him to control direction and descent, however the effect is greatly reduced. The third use that he has learned offensive in nature, though given his nonviolent nature and aversion towards fighting or hostilities, Achille is still learning to master this particular technique. While his Hexes may repel outward forces at only 3/4th of their own force they seem to have no limit to the force they pack themselves outside of the limit placed by Achille's own energy.. By placing a Hex (or pooling the force of the others) in front of any blow he delivers Achille can deliver devastating, if unrefined attacks. Using this to increase the force behind thrown objects is also possible. Practice on props and dummies has allowed Achille some rough control over the amount of force expelled, though he has yet to break past the upper limit.

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

One of the largest drawbacks to Achille's ability is the limited number of Hexes he can maintain at a single moment before suffering negative affects. That limit is three. A time limit is also in place. If a single plate is maintained longer than two seconds Achille will begin to experience intense headaches, bleeding from the nose, and dizziness. Maintaining more than three Hexes at a single moment will result in a rapid decline of Achille's internal bodily functions for as long as they are maintained, starting with temporary (or permanent depending on the number of Hexes and the length of time that they are maintained) loss of sight. While Achille can throw up Hexes and take them down rapid fire If desired but this will cause the strain on the body to occur much quicker than waiting a few moments between each new Hex. Additionally ,while a 1'x2' Hex can cover quite a bit of the human body, someone of Achille's size is far less protected than most.

Achille must also keep in mind that his Hexes do not, in fact, totally negate damage. Just as they repel 3/4th of the force behind attacks away from him, the remaining 1/4th is allowed to travel through the Hexes regardless of protective clothing worn. While a normal human's punch may feel like nothing but a small sting, attacks from a meta-human with strength enhancing abilities will leave Achille feeling like he's had a rough night at a bar fight. Bullets, cars and other extremely fast traveling, high impact objects are better left untested, though it is likely that even the smallest caliber round would leave Achille crumpled on the ground gasping for breath and out of a fight. Projectile type attacks of an elemental nature appear to cause no damage through the Hexes, but they are still a high threat for reasons that will be explained shortly.

Another drawback is the limit to the amount of damage each Hex can take. Against a mid ranking, strength enhanced meta-human a single hex can take up to four blows before shattering, assuming the meta-human in question is capable of delivering that many blows in the two seconds the Hex is in place without being blown back by the returned force. Higher ranked meta-humans of the same type would break through in as little as one to two blows, leaving Achille in no small amount of pain even without touching him directly. Projectile type attacks of a non physical nature, such as those launched by pyromancers or those with control of electricity, are better left dodged than blocked. Despite the lack of damage these attacks can cause through Hexes, there is little they can do about any flames or sparks that creep around the edges of the 1'x2' barrier.

Finally, there is the matter of energy consumption and reaction time. Achille cannot innately throw up Hexes in the path of oncoming attacks unless he both knows they are coming and makes the conscious choice to do so. Even then, reaction time is everything as the two second limit to each Hex makes stopping attacks a tricky business. Of course, the more Achille is on the defensive the quicker his energy is drained, thus slowing his reaction time. This energy drain also effects nearly every other use of his ability, the weakening the defensive strength of his Hexes included. Defending against a barrage of attacks, where Achille would need to constantly create and dismiss Hexes, would likely result in him being exhausted and overwhelmed in no time at all.

As mentioned earlier, it is entirely possible for Achille to repulse himself away from a non-solid barrier such as the air. The drawback to this is the significant loss of power (nearly a 70% loss to be exact), making the use of this ability for this purpose difficult. Achille could likely avoid death from falling out of an eighth story window with this technique, but not without sustaining broken limbs or worse upon impact.

If defending himself against attacks is draining on Achille then using his Hexes for attacks of his own are doubly so. While the Hexes have no real limit to the amount of force they can pack into a blow, there is a correlation with Achille's own energy. The more powerful the attack, the higher the demand on his body and the higher chance of catastrophic injury as a result. The more drained he is, the less powerful Achille can make his blows. He could, as with all of his techniques, attempt to surpass his own energy limits to fuel these attacks but the effects would likely be messy for any parties involved.

Other: Achille is straight. He has a weakness for short women, oversized sweaters, thigh highs, and long hair.

He has never been outside of Black Fall but hopes to one day visit Rome as well as various theater houses around the world.

While he is an agnostic atheist, Achille does not view those who believe in higher powers as being less intelligent, likely because he doesn't view himself as all that intelligent to begin with.



Sample Post:

"May I direct you attention to the center stage!" Achille's voice boomed over the roar of the audience, the large speakers hanging from the walls filling the entirety of the Black Fall Big Top with the sound of his voice, "The next big Act is upon us my dear friends and we here at the Big Top are sure it will leave you clutching your stomachs and crying tears of laughter!" With a flourish of his hands the music that had been building up in the background rose to a crescendo, heralding the arrival of several heavily decorated elephants. Children cheered and gasped and adults laughed as several clowns suddenly appeared from beneath the enormous animals, racing three ridiculously miniature cars between their legs. The elephants for their part seemed not to notice at all, marching single file toward the center stage where they proceeded to pluck clowns out of the passing cars one by one, depositing them unceremoniously in a large basin of water to the roaring laughter of the audience.

Achille watched with a smile as the act continued, the clowns reorganizing for a combined 'attack' on their pachydermian oppressors only to be humorously blown backwards under three blasts of water from the elephants trunks. It was another night at the Big Top and so far everything was going smoothly. Kids were laughing, adults were more focused on the act than their watches, and the lion tamers had managed to get their new act with the big cats to work flawlessly. As the largest of the elephants, a gentle giant everyone referred to simply as Bert, began to toss one of the clowns leisurely between the other two elephants Achille couldn't help but to think once more about his good fortune to be working at the Big Top.

The Big Top itself was situated in an expansive renovated warehouse building in Arcadia Heights, the warm, richly colored and decorated interior in direct contract to the concrete and cinder block exterior. Despite the rather plain outward appearance of the Big Top it had been gaining a significant number of followers in the past four years since it's reopening under new management, becoming a well rated attraction at which to spend an afternoon. Achille was partially to blame for that rating, his enthusiasm and creativity as a Ringmaster setting the Big Top apart from the few remaining circuses that still resided inside the United States. Of course, being Ringmaster was not the only thing Achille did at the Big Top, as his audience was about to find out. With series of quick, intricate hand gestures Achille indicated to the elephant handlers that the next act was about the start. The handlers in question were all meta-humans with the ability to communicate with the animals telepathically from a distance, something that allowed the huge mammals to act much quicker and with less hesitation than simple hand gestures. With a sudden fanfare of trumpeting the elephants ceased their juggling act and made their way back where they had come, a splash accompanying their departure as the recently juggled clown found himself thrown yet again into the water basin. Achille waited until the laughter and cheering had subsided and the clowns had vacated the stage before leaping out into the spotlight once more, a broad grin adorning his face.

"Let's hear it for our talented clown wranglers ladies and gentlemen!" He waited once more for the applause to die down. "Now, as some of you may know, I have a bit of a rivalry with the acrobats. They seem to think I'm too much of a chicken to walk the tightrope! Well.... they're right. BUT I've challenged them to a bit of an obstacle course to see who can do their job better. Feast your eyes on this!" With an abrupt about face and arms help wide and high, Achille was pleased to hear a large number of gasps from the audience as several more lights flared up to reveal the intricate series of suspended platforms that had been erected silently as the previous act had been going on. In total there were twenty platforms arranged in two columns, each holding a different obstacle but all of them suspended at least forty feet off the ground. Even Achille, who had helped design and plan this act, had to admit that it was impressive.

His 'rival' was already on the first platform, a short woman called Jessica with long black hair that ran all the way down to the back of her knees. She was one of the best acrobats the Big Top had, in no small part due to the enhanced dexterity, speed, and coordination granted to her by her innate meta-human ability. She had been one of Achille's main teachers when it came to acrobatics, his other main role in the Big Top, and he greatly respected her abilities on the job. With one hand holding his extravagant top hat in place and the other gripping his show cane as tightly as possible, Achille called upon his own meta-human power to form two 'plates' of kinetic energy beneath his feet, launching himself ten feet into the air to a lower platform. To the audience it appeared as if he had made the leap on his own, the translucent energy 'plates' that Achille referred to as Hexes disappearing a split second after he called them into being. Three more leaps brought Achille alongside his fellow acrobat, the cheering that had been building up during his ascent slowly quieting down as he raised a hand for silence.

"Good luck Ringmaster." Jessica whispered to him as she stretched, her long hair flowing around her like a black waterfall. "Remember, dinner is on the loser tonight." She grinned broadly, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him reel for a moment. His balance regained, Achille returned the grin,muting the mic on his lapel for a moment.

"I don't recall anything about that deal. Who decided on that?"

"Oh, you know. Everyone." Achille couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes as she smiled. Despite being thirty two and a mother of three Jessica had a kind of youthful energy and enthusiasm that made her all the more attractive. Many a guy had been disappointed to find out that she was happily married to the Big Top's chief knife thrower, Sven.

"Ah," Achille jokingly rolled his eyes, his grin still as amicable as ever, "Guess I can't refuse then." Noticing that the crowd had finally gotten quiet Achille unmuted his microphone, throwing his hands wide. "Ladies and gentlemen! We dearly hope that you enjoy the spectacle you are about to see. Let the race begin!" With a snap of his fingers and a sudden clamor of music, the obstacle course sprang to life, hidden motors and gas lighters igniting harmless flame trails and setting various obstacles on preset paths of motion. Achille offered a single bow to his opponent, sweeping the hat off his head in an exaggerated fashion before planting it back firmly atop his head and launching himself to the next platform. Jessica was already halfway there, flying through the air with little resistance.

Coat tails flaring out behind him, Achille dove through the first obstacle (a simple ring of fire that was more for show than anything else), coming out of his roll by launching himself across the ten foot gap to the next platform where he ducked, hopped and wiggled his way around three oscillating poles. Stealing a glance at how Jessica was doing on her end, Achille was pleased to see that she was navigating the course with her usual relaxed professionalism. For someone like her avoiding something as simple as a couple of fast moving poles came as naturally as breathing. Distracted as he was, Achille nearly failed to notice the last oncoming pole, throwing up a Hex at the last moment that sent the pole rocketing back the way it came at a slightly slower speed. By the time Achille had reached the second to last platform Achille could feel his clothes sticking to his body, sweat dripping down his neck and off his nose. He had used far too much energy showing off with midair spins and repelling any obstacle that risked hitting him. In the end however the audience was on the edge of their seats, curious as to how Achille would overcome the last obstacle that lay before him. The obstacle in question was a free standing wooden 'wall' that divided the platform in two. A foot thick and fifteen feet high, the audience couldn't see how Achille could get over or around it before Jessica had cleared her own final obstacle. Achille, however, was prepared. For a moment he stood back, admiring the barrier before him before calling to his audience below.

"I'm afraid I can't go over this one ladies and gentlemen. Looks like I lose." It gave Achille no small amount of satisfaction to hear the audience give a collective 'aww'. Grinning, he gave an over dramatic shrug. "Just kidding." Whipping back around, Achille lashed out at the wall with an open palm, a Hex forming in front of the extended limb right before impact. With a resounding CRACK the wall split and splintered, falling away and off the platform where the telekinetic crew members far below were already waiting to catch any pieces that strayed too far near the crowd. Laughing to himself as he bounded over the ruined barrier, Achille made the final leap to the last platform and struck a triumphant pose. All seconds after Jessica reached her final platform, not a bead of sweat on her body. With the roar of the crowd below them and the satisfaction of an act well done, Achille didn't mind paying for dinner later that night.

Life in the Big Top was good.