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[center][i]“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”[/i]
— [b]Jodi Picoult[/b], [i]My Sister’s Keeper[/i][/center]
[center][url=http://24.media.tumblr.com/ca08ca3e18c7922e1226dcb2ac8e49f5/tumblr_mlydmoXwJG1qb9n2vo1_500.jpg]†[/url] - [url=http://24.media.tumblr.com/c402c8e29f570472ae17970a23137609/tumblr_mzhn370ijJ1qb9n2vo1_500.png]†[/url] - [url=http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9uo9otBZB1qb9n2vo1_500.jpg]†[/url] - [url=http://31.media.tumblr.com/079785fa84a66a913d21831c19e8f9b6/tumblr_mwfjezmQjB1qb9n2vo1_500.jpg]†[/url][/center]

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[center][b]Name:[/b][/center]
[center]Royce 'Puck' Guyvers[/center]
[center][b]Birthday:[/b][/center]
[center]14th of February[/center]
[center][b]Appearance:[/b][/center]
Standing at about 177cm and weighing a 180 lbs of mostly lithe muscle, Royce looks as if he exudes snarky confidence. His face is very sharp, with a toned jaw and a defined nose; his eyes stand out the most. They cry out mischief and clever as they glint and smile, coupled with the toothy smirk he usually flashes and he's a disaster waiting to happen. His hair is often styled up and slightly disheveled, but always the daunting obsidian mass. He often spaces out and looks inattentive even during the most crucial of moments. Royce is good at putting on a mask, keeping people comfortable in his presence, if not gullible to the blank stares that cry out someone who doesn't quite have all the lights on upstairs. Feigning stupidity to hide a clever mind gives Royce a rather unfair advantage, but he was never one to play fairly anyway. But, he walks with a charm and confidence that he does his best to purvey, instead of slunk over and suspicious like he could be. But, the quiet interior is often masked in various ways, from the expressions on his face to the loud and obtrusively energetic gestures he often makes. His mere presence either charms you into a false sense of security or tires you from the over ecstatic and excitable individual that he often seems. He talks in a very concise manner, and is a master of adding subtle inflections to give people a sense that they know what he's feeling or what his intentions are purely from his voice. Essentially, he understands how tone and pitch work when talking and the language of dialogue itself so that it can suit his needs. He usually talks in a very smooth, precise manner that often flows together in a fast paced bunch. It often sounds like he's rushed, but somehow relaxed and comfortable, if that's even possible. When irritated or angry, he often talks in a higher, slower pitch and enunciates in an irritating manner, almost condescending in the way it sounds.

Royce offers a bland style that he customs to his own; bland is what he knows how to work with. It's never dull in taste, but can be considered crude and rudimentary and is often flared with the most senseless of knickknacks that he finds. Even armored up, it's loud and out there, as if he needs to constantly put a bulls-eye on his back for people to shoot at. He calls it a 'challenge' while most agree that it's actually 'stupidity'. But, the danger lives and courses through his veins. And due to the military life, he's been accustomed to strict work out regimens and boasts a prominent figure, though considered lithe when compared to some of the other hulking men in service. He likes to be nimble, flexible, and precise, over extremely strong, durable, and brawny. Royce is quick and has astonishing reflexes too, able to react and act with an above average speed. His energy is boundless, so the speed and precision befits his style of combat, as it's often fast and unpredictable. Not to mention he's also a dirty fighter; no one fair smirks like that.

[center][b]Personality:[/b][/center] 
[center][i]"I tell half-truths. I'm still being honest, just not... entirely so."[/i][/center]

Royce is called Puck for a reason.

Driven purely on the excitement of the present, Royce is a very, 'do it because it's fun' kind of guy and may find himself skirting the lines of morality, simply because he enjoys something too much. He's often careless in how he acts, undeniably indifferent to most people except those closest to him, and often finds it hard to motivate himself beyond, 'it's fun.' There's not much there in terms of his real goals, as he often finds himself lost in what he's doing too much to worry about where he's going. He likes excitement and is filled with a boundless energy that's hard to calm. What's more, he likes using that energy to the fullest and will sometimes take certain actions to the extreme, which has numerous affects on those around him. Either he accidentally harms someone in the process, or he relentlessly annoys anyone close enough to be drawn into his antics.

Roy is a charismatic and manipulative individual when he's not off doing God know's what. Someone who people usually go to for a few cheap laughs, usually at the expense of another person, Roy is surprisingly horrible at sarcasm. He's got about as much snark as a toilet bowl, but he makes up for that in cunning and probably foolishness. There's always a layer of near idiocy over his cunning, giving most people a terrible first impression. He seems like he's doing the stupidest of things just to do them and, in a sense, they're right. Roy is subconsciously manipulative and often works to push people to do the work for him, whilst he keeps up the harmless guise. He can be seen as ruthless and often uncaring when he exposes his underlying nature; all of his actions, everything he does, is usually to further his goal and his goal alone. It makes him a person who's very hard to work with, in both utter annoyance and the fact that he can often push people further down in his duplicity. He may look and act stupid, but he's clever and most of his manipulation is subtle and varies from person to person. If a weakness can further his goals, then he'll exploit it until the individual is thoroughly broken. Often times he never stays to see the aftermath and can be blind to the maliciousness of what he sometimes does. 

But the thing is, most of Roy's goals are very short term. They have no apparent drive further, aren't just broken down things to do to get to the real thing. They're usually things that Roy likes, things that Roy thinks are necessary for his survival and it can often lead him lost and inhibited by his own myopia. To Roy the future is scary and too random for him to grasp and often has a misconception that it really doesn't matter in the long run. That's actually what drives him away from staying on course for too long because he honestly believes the future is so flimsy that it won't matter what he does. It's kind of a skewed look at destiny and it drives him to wander around lost and not knowing what to do for long periods of time. Royce, if anything, wants stability the most in his life and is often driven subconsciously to gain it. Most of those plans fail due to his own self-sabotage and fear of what it might mean for him.

[center][b]Biography:[/b][/center]

[center]Sam.[/center]
Roy hated Sam to the point where he often pulled mean pranks on him and his friends. That really only lasted a few days, in which they knew each other—Roy was energetic and kept people on their toes as a child, so he often did things in a perpetual fast forward. However, Sam, unlike most people who would have wailed on him to no tomorrow, approached him in their energetic youth. He blatantly asked Roy why he was being so mean and Roy told him flat out: "I don't like you. You're too... too better and that's not fair."

Now, Roy hadn't the normal family life. His father and mother were divorced at a young age and he was left with just one other sibling to look after as they lived with their mother. Their mother was the sweetest and kindest and gentlest thing ever, soft to the core and loved with all her being. She had a few problems, yeah, but they were never apparent to her children. She was addicted to drugs and sex and often got fired for both from wherever she tried to work at, leaving her children impoverished and without all the things these other kids had. They made do, though, and Roy would often have fun at the expense of others. He liked pranks and could sometimes get out of hand, even if none of it was for anything personal and it got a laugh out of his little sister. But, along with his mother's issues, his father had custody on the weekends, where they'd spend those days on the other side of the town. The father had more blatant issues than the mother, with alcohol and drugs being prominent and out there, even within reach. He'd even offered them some, just to show how much of a terrible parent he made. This didn't come across as the type of fun that either of the kids liked, but it was the soul reason his sister died a lot later in his life. She OD'd at 14 and his father was too high to help her.

On one of these weekends, Roy had met Sam and immediately grew jealous of him. He'd not known the boys home life, didn't know what he had or didn't have, but the kid's attitude was so righteous and 'do it my way' from his perspective. He was a shepherd among a herd of sheep and Roy didn't like the idea of being a sheep, no matter how drawn he was to him. It was subtle at first, but the moment Samuel approached him, gave him the sternest look a kid could muster, and asked that question, Roy's mind clicked and it clicked in the right way this time. Sam was better than him in every way, but if there was someone who could make him like that and happily so, it was probably Sam.

It was rough at the start; the group didn't quite like him the way Sam did. They didn't all get along too well, especially since Roy was one of the more active ones. He didn't take a leadership role, but he did dish out the most ideas, however zany and crazy they were. Sam struck most of them down in a very subtle way, but Roy didn't ever mind because he essentially satiated his desire to do something, anything. Sam fulfilled a stability in Roy's life that no one else ever could and when they lost him, all of that stability crumbled and he'd often wander away from the current group in a mindless haze, wondering what he was doing and why. But, Sam had brought them so close and even without him, they still added a stability that he craved and needed, but didn't necessarily see. Roy became a lot less ordered, more energetic, and liked to be out of control more often than not and it put a strain on those close in his life, but they all loved each other too much to separate. Sure, they told him what for and he told them back, but one can only be upset at their only friends for so long.

Without Sam to guide him, he was kind of lost. He was so worried that he'd become a sheep that at the lost of that one person who gave him most direction he ultimately turned into one. He was guided by his instincts and motivated by pleasure more than anything else, though he cared about his friends a lot more than anything else. The problem was that the rest of the world simply wasn't there and he often tacked on his friends motivations in place of his own. He was so lost, that he'd not realize what he was doing, following the group into a military academy that trained and gave them the strength to fight.

Roy found solace in the spirits that found him, those that were also lost and who also found themselves too focused on what was happening to realize their consequences. They were the radical whims of creatures who found delight in the chaos they sowed, but their chaos didn't disrupt life. It rather gave meaning to it and brought about more positives in their mischief than negatives in their maliciousness. But, they were lost as to what to do and their goals and found the security they needed in Roy, even if he himself was lost to it.

[center][b]Weapon:[/b][/center]
[center]Wields a [url=http://www.mundibusiness.com/images/_products/tmkglobal/00-7X54.jpg]rapier[/url] and a [url=http://www.newtimesslo.com/images/cms/sized/DoubleCrossbowFinal.jpg]wrist crossbow[/url].[/center]
Royce is a big fan of conventional weapons, but is flimsy when it comes to sticking to one specific style. He's something of a jack of all trades when it comes to various weapons, but hasn't had the attention-span to master any of them. From swords, to shotguns, to gunblades, and plenty more, Royce has had at least intermediate training with most of the weapons he's handled, but was never anything special aside from knowing a large amount of fighting styles with weapons he's jumped to and from. But one things sticks out when Royce fights and that's the unpredictability and randomness he's incorporated into any form of combat, which usually makes up for his lack in real expertise at battle. He's cheap and dirty, and if something works, he exploits it relentlessly. He's made a habit of prolonging fights just to lock down on weaknesses to increase his chance of victory.

At the moment, he's gone back to training with a rapier and tacked on a small crossbow to his wrist for added effect. The rapier is standard military equipment, as he's too flaky to have customized weapons (that would be a fortune down the drain). The wrist bow is custom made purely because it's not a choice ranged weapon among most military personnel; if you've got access to either a gun or a crossbow, you're going to almost always pick the gun. He insists on the uniqueness of it and that the crudeness brings its own esoteric flair to his combat. Unfortunately, he's already drifting apart from the crossbow, as he's been eyeing a second rapier rather greedily whilst sparring. However, he'll most likely be forced to stick with what he's got for awhile for practicality's sake and to keep from killing himself.

[center][b]Limit Break:[/b][/center]
[center][u][i]Purge and Cull[/i][/u][/center]

In one swift, supernova like burst, Roy, as the center, covers a two mile radius in dense jungle, ripping through concrete and metal with trees and vines and moss like they were paper, and embedding himself within the center in a large dome of rock and wood. The forest radiates through the affected area, spurting forth giant trees and coating everything in a layer of brown and green. The trees themselves root through anything standing above them in a giant upheaval, meaning concrete slabs or chunks of buildings are thrown haphazardly around until they're fully encased in whatever the newly awakened jungle catches it in. The jungle provides a dense cover in which Roy is fully away of anything that steps in or attempts to step out, giving him entire subconscious control of the sprawling grass and vines that coat the jungle. However, his control is just by proxy (thought entirely magnified a hundred fold) as is deemed by the spirits under his care as they fly through the trees and the flowers with as much glee as they inherently come with, dancing around foe and friend alike in their ironically ecclesiastical display.

The main course of the limit break is not the giant nova of trees and plants, but what lay within the jungle itself. Each plant that inhabits the makeshift forest immediately coats the entire area in a barely visible, spore like toxin that actively seeks out hosts to embed themselves into. They have a mind of their own, but are swayed by Roy's subconscious to seek out neutral or opposing parties, instead of those he deems allies. Once inhaled, the spores are slow to work for them to be considered battle ready, but come through in a rather gruesome display. When lost in a dense jungle in the middle of a giant city, the amount of time the spores take to infect their victims is practically meaningless. The spores themselves root themselves deep inside their victims, causing them to slowly stop functioning altogether after bouts of inhuman violence and then to finally become petrified as the spores begin to grow in a wonderful display of purples and blues and greens until they finally explode in from their host, fully killing it and turning it into a statue of brown and green vines tied to whatever surface they'd fallen onto, sprouting giant blood flowers specked with the purples and blues.

Once all hostile and neutral life has been wiped clean of the jungle, the trees turn to ash, releasing everything they held and leaving only the gruesome coffins of men, women, and animal in its wake. The ashen waste that the plants become in an instant is almost as catastrophic as the supernova of trees and leaves as the debris the forest held crashes down with the ash, leaving an exhausted and barely conscious Roy in the soot of his protective shell. The entire limit break usually lasts an hour as the spores cull through the population of foes and create a swathe of bloody, plant coffins in its wake.

[center][b]Spirits:[/b][/center]
Everyone, from the dawn of man to the age of information, have always made rash explanations for the unknown under the guise of intellectual discussion. Particularly in the green land areas of the lands furthest to the north, spotted in islands and rolling with hills, the term Fae Folk have been a common way to explain certain mysteries: spirits, odd, eerie sounds in forests, shadows in the middle of the night, unexplained laughter, disease even. Tricksters are a culture's necessity to explain the misfortune of those beguiled by spirits seeking fun in, usually, malicious ways. They were Aesop tales, reminders to children to behave, lest they tempt the wrath of a god or the wiles of a nine-tailed fox. These beings were chaotic, in nature, but brought a surprising amount of order in what they did; they were reminders, as parents thought, and lessons to better humanity. But they were also malicious and unconscious of the consequences of their actions. They were beings who, not only didn't understand, but did not abide by the laws of social morality and ethics that people bound themselves to. And this labeled them as beings of ill-intent, not of the legends they once were. They were misunderstood in the hatred, and retreated to the solace of burrows, of sanctuaries in abandoned buildings, networks through trees in dense forests. They found life and security within nature and its unexplained mysteries.

But these spirits were, too, affected by the Calamity and the havoc it wreaked. They sought refuge in those that had deemed them demons and monsters, instead of the beings they truly were. The fae that lived in the flowers, the elusive fox that burrowed through the forest, or the whispering breeze that fluttered in the wind, were considered beasts not unlike what the Calamity produced. Most were consumed, as they could not find enough suitable humans who hadn't feared or loathed them, an unfortunate tragedy to creatures that were forced to hide and who were lost in the wake of both tragedies. Roy was one such refuge.

He harbors a range of creatures, but all have similar qualities to them, in that they were all beings of nature's chaos. They were whimsical and spontaneous, unable to hold down for the smallest second, very akin to Roy. What more, they knew his pain well, or even better than he did and saw the same reasons for his actions as they did theirs. The bond Roy holds with his spirits is close and understanding, as if they were all one in the same. And there are a number of them attached to Roy, as he deems himself the bastion for mischief. Most of the beings are a very bright, reflective color when manifested and even contain elaborate patterns in imbued within them; they all very in size and length, but have a tendency to swarm erratically and often touch whatever they can. He dubs them his Court or The Court, and though some only provide a way to combat the world and its enemies, most only reside in Roy for protection and offer nothing but their whimsical presence.

[center][u][i]Earth — Bramble Spores[/i][/u][/center]
[center][u]Status Ailments[/u][/center]
[center]Curse - [img=http://i.imgur.com/b79HjAg.png]
Darkness - [img=http://i.imgur.com/C0RvjcK.png][/center]

The earth will birth many things, some being of more danger and holding spirits of malicious intent along with it. The thistle like vines that sprout beneath Roy's feat and shoot forth like razor whips hold cautious spirits, spirits that retreat behind walls of giant brambles with thorns the size of human arms to find purchase in the world and safety, most of all. The vines these spirits control are of a hardened material and wrap around almost harmlessly to those they protect, but lash out fiercely to embed themselves within foe, blinding them with the thorns and pushing them away behind a wall of sinewy green-brown. From between the thorns lie a multitude of spores that more vines blossom from, bursting forth in an orange spray that weighs down anyone to step foot near, sinking in when they rear back for an attack and biting flesh and armor alike to sear pain through their limbs in warning.

In Roy's hands they are more a device to impede rather than to lash out to harm, whipping large walls of these vines to twist into a makeshift wall in protection, keeping foes back as well as effecting them with the poison of the spores that line the thick skin of each vine. In some instances, he encases (mostly) himself and occasionally others to aid in their resilience or to put more bite to any attacks he makes, usually wrapping a good chunk of thinner brambles around his forearm, acting as makeshift bracers. The vines can burst forth in various sizes, but effectively stay within range of Roy, crumbling to ash should he step too far away. They stay in effect for a limited amount of time, which is cut clean when Roy wills it or walks too far away. They protect mostly against piercing, slashing, and blunt force damage, but are very susceptible to any form of fire or can be shattered with just enough explosive force.

[center][u][i]Dark — Through the Looking Glass[/i][/u][/center]

If one wants to get from point A to D, they usually go through points B and C to do so. However, Puck can traverse from point A to D and back without going through the trouble of points B and C. These are often holes between realms that specific spirits traverse in their desperation, opened to Roy in large rifts and portals. However, Roy can't traverse too far without terrible side effects. Meaning, he can't travel from one end of the world to the other without severely damaging his mind, as he goes through an alternate dimension (often what one could consider Heaven or Hell; a kind of spirit world, in essence), to traverse these distances almost instantaneously and staying in the dimension for too long (since it isn't usually governed by the same principals of time that his world is) can drive a man insane. These dimensional gates are open for only one person at a time and close after that one person has gone through. While only spirits can be affected in these realms, humans remain unharmed physically, but can have their minds scarred from the images and the unimaginable that they are exposed to, as a human usually isn't allowed access to this particular realm until they've moved on from the living. This is limited to those Roy deems allies or himself, but the mind altering affects are double for anyone else who enters. The effects stack and too many times traveling through different dimensions can literally rot a brain, though Puck has grown more accustomed to the effects through repeated safe use over the time. The effects do wear off with enough time, which for Roy doesn't take too long, but for anyone else it may vary depending on the individual's mental state.

Roy is currently limited to traveling about a kilometer before the effects begin to show. He's also limited to about 10 regular jumps at a max of 500 meters, which can increase up to 20 depending on the size of his jumps—the shorter, the less exhausting. On average, it's usually about 15 consecutive jumps.

[center][u][i]Earth/Dark — Neurotoxin[/i][/u][/center]
[center][u]Status Ailments[/u][/center]
[center]Curse - [img=http://i.imgur.com/b79HjAg.png][/center]

Seeping through like venom, deep fanged spirits that slide through the folds of skin in their purple haze, climbing into the air to be breathed like poison or seep through the sharp blade of a rapier like venom. Roy can possess this ability like an extension of himself, whether that be in a purplish cloud around him or dripping from his weapon. The toxin, either way, effectively seizes the target's nervous system to cripple them into crumpled masses, flaring burning pain that explodes through joints like dynamite. It takes a hold of the target and doesn't let go for a short duration, unless applied relentlessly through close quarter contact. How highly concentrated the poison is depends on how large of an area Roy affects and how much focus he puts into it. Usually, he'll have room to spread the effects in a tiny radius around him, or apply a copious amount of his rapier or crossbow bolts; this can be done subconsciously if he so wishes. In higher concentrations and larger areas, he must put most, if not all, of his energy into the ability, leaving him a sitting duck. The effects are never lethal and aim to incapacitate, rather than outright kill and the effects, again, don't last long unless continuously applied.

[center][u][i]Earth/Dark — Fox-Eye[/i][/u][/center]
[center][u]Status Ailments[/u][/center]
[center]Despair - [img=http://i.imgur.com/OUvivLa.png]
Protect - [img=http://i.imgur.com/sm7NK40.png][/center]

Spreading fear through a person is easy, but is full of vast intricacies that it's never all that simple. But, put someone into their own head and they'll find it relatively difficult to sway their mind of thinking rather nasty thoughts. A simple look, straight into the very soul of an individual, is all it takes for Roy to send them deep into their head until they're reeling about in reality, weapon in hand, and prepared to kill any of the phantom invaders that have come pouring out. They're never actually there, though, and the person often finds more red on their hands than they'd ever be able to handle.

The actual ability affects only one person at a time and can be very taxing on the spirit within Roy's grasp, a tricky thing that sprouted from beneath various toxic plants that induce more than just crazy hallucinations. They'd eat the person inside out, but the spirit only ever retained its hallucinogenic glory. When using the ability, the spirit takes hold of the mind, popping out through as a silver fox, nine-tails hashing in a sudden gust of wind before disappearing in a haze of pink and blue. It renders the individual catatonic for just a split second, enough for their mind to twist the world into an unholy playground of their worst nightmares. It twists, but never truly fabricates, turning materials into something entirely different, but forcing the individual to face his/her fears head on. And usually those fears replace the flesh of allies, releasing waves of spiders or a troupe homicidal clowns, whatever troubles the victim enough to induce and fear driven rage as they spray bullets or embed swords into whatever thing that attempts to assail them and when the effect finally wears off, they're reduced to a shambling, bloodied mess to deal with their sins.

Most soldiers that traumatized, thrown into more trauma, are more than likely to blow their own brains out than ever attack again.