Name: Kalas Alseif
Alias(s): None
Age: 25 He only looks this age, his true age is unknown.
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 155lbs
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Dark Purple

Race: Demon Prince

Job Role: Soldier - S.W.O.R.D. - Battle Squad Commander

Physical Appearance:

Kalas is distinctly demonic in that he possesses two, short horns that sprout from his forehead. Despite the notion that "Bigger is Better", for Demon Princes, the shorter your horns the stronger you are. Since you are more able to control the output of your demonic energy. His skin is also a dark grey/light charcoal colour with darker scarification marks that punctuate it in some strange artistic fashion, easily denoting him as something beyond a Human being. Finally he has a long, lithe tail that he tends to keep hidden beneath his clothing.

Aside from the notable demonic features, Kalas' physique is pretty much what you'd expect from a young, Human male at his absolute athletic peak.

Attire:

Kalas dresses himself in age-old Demon Prince fashion, though most other Princes of his generation have converted to a much more Human wardrobe. He prefers this style of attire, however, due to it being perfect for his role as a Battle Mage. Thick, dark leathers usually make up the upper garments, namely jackets and robes, with cotton or silk undershirts for comfort. His lower half is, most of the time, clothed in tanned leather pants that cling to his legs but not so much that it would be detrimental to his flexibility. His shoes are simple, hard-leather boots. He has, however reinforced the soles with metal to enhance their durability.

Personality:

Kalas is wise beyond his years. He doesn't often partake in foolish pursuits or practical jokes, preferring to focus on the task at hand. He is understanding and willing to make time for those who ask for his help. During battle or on a mission, Kalas remains a staunch leader, often being the first into the fray. He takes joy in being in the thick of battle but always insists on a well oiled plan before the chaos ensues. He holds little time for cowards and will leave them behind in an instant, a comrade who is injured, however, he will protect with his life if need be.

Weapons & Equipment:

Osebon - A 6 ft tall, Titanium-A plated staff, capable of withstanding and channeling immense heat and blazing fire. Kalas' main weapon. He utilizes this staff mainly on a close-quarters basis. He is extremely adept in its' usage to dispatch numerous foes that may stand in his way.

Ahael - A 13" Dwarven-Forged Shortsword, slightly curved to allow for more slicing strikes than piercing or parrying. Kalas uses this weapon as his secondary, usually during times where stealth is preferred over sheer power.

Ability:

Fire Magic - Being a Demon Prince, Kalas' natural affinity is toward Fire. Coupled with the teachings of a centuries-old Flame Sage, Kalas has learnt to harness the power of Fire to create and release devastating attacks. He is able to channel this magic through his staff; Osebon, with practiced perfection.

Advanced Acrobatics - His demonic body grants him greater speed and strength than normal Humans, allowing him to perform incredible feats of athleticism. He uses this to his benefit predominantly whilst fighting, combining it effortlessly with his martial training.

Martial Artist (Staff) - Kalas has trained extensively with his staff for the application of combat. He has become so adept at using Osebon, it's as if it were an extension of his body. He combines his staff training with his Fire Magic as well as some limited Close-Quarters Combat maneuvers also.

Swordsmanship - When he received his sword; Ahael, as a gift, Kalas sought out an instructor to teach him how he could use it in combat. As such, he has learnt how to apply the use of this deadly weapon in various combat situations.

Brief History:

In Demonic Years, Kalas has been alive for a long time. Some say well over a thousand years, but even amongst his own kind, his true age is unknown. His early years remain a series of lost memories to him. His earliest memory is that of an ancient Flame Sage; Azhriel Lharne, who had taken him in as a son and a student. For what seemed like centuries, he lived and trained with the Sage, who would always warn him of a great darkness that would befall him and those around him. He maintained that only the brightest of his flames would be enough to dispel this dark evil.

More time passes and Kalas finds himself living amongst the people of RolePlayerGuild. A sprawling metropolis full of people from all races and walks of life. He was a member of the city guard to begin with before quickly rising to the rank of commander. He enjoyed his station, which saw frequent action outside of the city walls. But little did he or anyone else know that the constant attacks were the coming of the impending darkness that he had been warned about several centuries prior.

After the Guildfall Event, Kalas was one of the first to move, quickly coordinating the defensive efforts to seal off the Free Section and establish a checkpoint, which remains steadfast to this day. His act of heroics earned him a strong reputation within the ranks allowing his very presence to bolster the morale of any troops he joins in battle. He is currently working closely with I.D.R.I.S. and the Advanced Section Leadership find ways to overcome the various catastrophes that still remain within their beloved city. There are fierce rumours of the Leadership authorizing him to put together a High-Casual Battle Squad of hand-picked members who have fought well and proven their worth amongst the survivors.

Relationships:

S.W.O.R.D. - Being one of the most senior member's of the division, Kalas holds huge respect toward each and every member. He believes that without S.W.O.R.D. the population's chances of survival would have been next to none. Despite some people thinking that his Division is for a bunch of bloodthirsty killers, Kalas will defend S.W.O.R.D. over everything, even if it means burning a few bridges.

Name: Leia Hayahr (Hair, get it? LOL)
Alias(s): Elle (or L, whichever you'd rather type)
Age: 28
Height: 4'11'' at the withers, 7'5'' at the head
Weight: 1000 lbs.
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Pale Blue

Race: Centaur

Job Role: Medic (F.E.A.R)

Physical Appearance: Being a centaur, Elle stands upon four hooves. Her lower half is covered in soft, white fur with thick feathered strands fluttering above the strong black hooves. Just like the hip long hair, her tail is made up of soft white locks which reach down to her rear fetlock (near the hooves). All of her features are long and lean, making even her muscular horse body appear to be slender. Beneath her dark brows are a pair of pale blue eyes, their gaze always sharp and calculating.

Attire:

She adorns herself with decorative leathers and silks, hiding (barely) her otherwise exposed breasts. Upon her head she wears a headpiece made up of antlers and bits of silk. Although she usually wears her hair down, Elle has been known to pull the long strands into ornate braids or twists. As of late, the centaur has been wearing a crudely made saddle bag of medical supplies and blankets.

Personality:

Elle is very literal and blunt. She lacks any resemblance of tact, which makes her bedside manor rather... rough.... unless, of course, you can get her to do one of two things. Sing... or drink... or both.

Weapons & Equipment:
Medical supplies, blankets... and sometimes a machete like blade. The blade is used to remove limbs or, if forced, self defense.

Ability:

-Telepathy: Elle can speak both with her mouth and with her mind, however to speak with her mind, one must be within a line of sight.

-Empathy: This centaur can feel the emotions of those around her. This, along with the ability to carry victims on her back, made her essential in the early stages of the disaster. Like a sixth sense, the woman was able to feel those in pain beneath the rubble when they were otherwise unable to make their presence known.

-Medical Knowledge: Elle came into the city with the same knowledge as any good field medic... it wasn't until she was drafted into her position that she really started to learn the ins and outs of it all. She is no master... nor doctor... but you have a fairly good chance of surviving.

Brief History:

Elle had only just arrived when the virus hit, her home having been destroyed long before. Her time prior to arrive had been spent roaming from city to city, picking up any job she could just to survive. A jack of all trades but master of none, it was hard for her to find a place to call home. Of course, this home was more or less forced onto her by the virus.

Since it's fall, Elle has been working hard to save the lives of those around her... first among the search and rescue teams, then within the ranks of F.E.A.R..

Relationships:

I will be putting something here for every other PCed character. I'm going to PM each person after their CS is approved. Feel free to PM me as well!

Name: Guster Galuna
Alias(s): Guster. Just Guster. No need to use the surname.
Age: 21
Height: 183cm
Weight: "62kg"
Hair Color: Feature lacked
Eye Color: Clear, slight shade of pink

Race: Dust fiend

Job Role: Soldier - Q-Guard - Second in command of his current unit

Physical Appearance:

When it comes purely to appearance, Guster looks like a human to the unassuming. In fact, thanks to how he has covered every inch of his real self in clothing and taken the shape of a regular humanoid it is quite the challenge to tell him apart from one, if not impossible.
Within his clothing Guster is a swirling mass of dust that generates the weight his body seems to have through clever manipulation of the matter housed within the fabrics. As a result of this, anyone who catches the creature off-guard may find them feeling lighter than expected. Guster's "eyes" are two mostly clear gemstones floating in his head area behind his goggles.

Attire:

Guster prefers long coats, usually red ones with wide brimmed hats of matching colour. A blue feather is a plus, but the Guildfall has made his stock of said item limited resulting in them seeing less use. He rarely cares about the type of his trousers, as long as they come with enough pockets and are of sturdy material, anything goes. His boots and gloves are both black leather, and with the gloves being stitched into the inside of his coat sleeves and the pants likewise attached into his boots, there is no chance of anyone catching a glimpse of the whirling mass of dust he is. Guster covers his face with a thick scarf and an oversized pair of goggles, as to give himself some facial features to draw attention to. While a change in apparel usually demand Guster to exchange all the pieces at once in a discrete location, he takes all the possible opportunities. He'd rather not reveal himself by slowly chipping the clothing apart from the inside.

Personality:

It cannot be said that Guster would be a shining example of moral integrity within the guard. It would be closer to the truth to call him part of the problem, and there is no "victim-of-circumstances" cards to be played. While he rarely goes as far as to voluntarily abuse what he has been given, if a situation can be solved faster by calling the shots through his rank rather than talking it through or if assuming the ownership of certain items belonging to other individuals would make his units chances of survival greater, you can count on Guster demanding it. He also possesses a near zero-tolerance towards whiners. While he keeps his hopes up on an easier post to be gained one day, he does not expect it. Each and every time someone whines about being sent to one of the Mahzforsaken posts of Casual-Free, Guster dies a little inside and pretty much loses all respect towards the soldier. They certainly won't see Guster coming to the rescue if things were to go bad.
While technically genderless, Guster has chosen to prefer being referred to with male pronouns to not attract unneeded attention.

Weapons & Equipment:

The magimusket - Guster's signature weapon. This old looking contraption of wood and metal is loaded by Gusters shaky magical skills, allowing him to focus the raw energy into concentrated bolts. These shots possess target tracking and their travel time is near instant, but even then they cannot take into account all obstacles, and the more they need to steer, the less of an impact the shot will make. Often it is preferable to try and shoot through an obstacle rather than try to guide the shots past. The gun can when fully loaded discharge the energy in one big shot, but that is hardly the optimal choice most of them time and the function to divide the energy into any wanted amount sees much use.
Sword - Guster has recently picked up this slightly curved blade and has no real skill in using it. It possesses a certain intimidation factor though, so combined with his rank Guster has pressed through some conflicts with non-soldiers through sheer intimidation.
Taurus Judge - A five shot revolver loaded with .410 bore shot shells for close-quarters self-defence when magimusket is not an option.

Ability:

Air reading: Dust fiends are not known for their eyesight. In fact, they are quite blind (and deaf) in the literal sense. However, they are capable of reading vibrations in the air, granting them vision and hearing for as long as there is air around them. Usually this skill can extend to miles at a time, but given the unnatural circumstances and the fact Guster is hiding within his clothing, he is pretty much blind beyond 250m radius, and deaf to sound from beyond 400m (unless the sound is obnoxiously loud, such as an explosion).
Longevity: A dust fiend is not the easiest kill you'll ever come across. Never dying of age, the creature that is immune to poisons as well has a well known weak spot in its gemstone "eyes". It requires both to function, one to eventually form another from the excess dust within two weeks (this happens on autopilot, with the personality remaining unconscious), and when none are left, the dust fiend dies. They are not extremely durable, a solid hit from a hammer easily shatters one, but they can be highly elusive while the creature still moves. Explosions and sonic frequency weapons are some tools that fight against this trait quite well.
Body mass control: Given his nature as a creature composed of whirling dust, Guster is capable of achieving some acrobatic feats impossible to an ordinary human.
Shaky magics: Guster is, by most accounts, a terrible wizard. Calling him a mage would be stretching it, as he can barely change his voice (which to be fair sees LOADS of use) or produce a small flame a few millimetres away from his fingers. He has the arcane energy, but he cannot concentrate it properly. This is where his magimusket comes in.

Brief History:

Why had he taken this path again? That was quite the question, Guster thought to himself as he filled in the logbook of the day at the guard post of his unit. He was a young one, that was for sure. Maybe it had been his stupidly curious self a few years back that led him to dress up as a human and see whether or not they would notice a difference. These were dangerous things to be thinking of though, just in case there would be a mind reader nearby. What were the chances though? Next to none, he was willing to guess. Speaking of none, that was the amount of people that had noticed anything fishy about him after he gave the explanation of being disfigured and simply wanting to spare them the sight. The free section... it had never really been for him, it had not. He missed his old home, but that area was closed off for the limited few now. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that jazz. The hadn't yet granted a clearance to High-Casual for him, but he had heard rumours they would be giving those out to the deserving soon. Rumours were rumours, but maybe, just maybe. It never hurt to keep your dreams alive.

His thoughts wandered to his weapon. The magimusket had been a genius idea, giving him the actual edge at fighting he really needed. Many times he had gazed into the arena section, thinking that one day he might join them. Had chosen not to, and looking at how things are now... he was better off here. And that was a lot coming from someone who was sitting at the post-Guildfall border of Casual-Free. It had taken him weeks to fashion the weapon out of the discarded and hopelessly broken musket he... acquired from an antique shop. Luckily nobody was able to trace it back to him, and now... nobody would find out. And if they did, who would care enough? The gun had saved infinitely more lives in it's current shape, that was for certain.

As his pen danced at the bottom of the page to sign the page under the name Sgt. Galuna, he let out a small sigh. How much would the higher-ups require to accept him just using his first name with these? It was not like it made a real difference... he had already got his entire unit agree to calling him sergeant Guster. He hadn't even chosen his name, oh no. He had received it from the first people he met, the family more or less forced it onto him as he told he had none to begin with. He liked Guster. Like the gust of the wind that blew within him. But Galuna? Ugh. Some days he was unsure why he did not change it. Maybe he was too sentimental? Although to be honest, as matters were now, nobody would have time to look after things like that anyway. As Guster slammed the logbook shut and hopped off the crate he had been sitting on, he declared within his head: The moment has passed. Back to work.

Relationships:

Guster holds an unknown (to him) bond towards the Galuna family. While encountering any is highly unlikely, he would likely seek to aid them like they did to him back in the day.
In addition to this, Guster respects S.W.O.R.D. and I.D.R.I.S. but finds it hard to believe anyone would willingly participate in something like that. Each time he sees the group return smaller than it left as, if he has the opportunity, strengthens his belief of it being a necessary job for the voluntarily crazy.
And then there is his feeling of sheer terror towards F.E.A.R.. To him, having his identity as a Dust fiend be revealed would spell the endgame. Having to flee from the society most likely, but where would he even go?

Name: Dr. Daxter Sness
Alias(s): No official aliases, but is ofter called mean names by colleagues. Geekatron and Junkbot are fine examples of such tomfoolery.
Age: Lived to the age of 61 before entering Thoughtsteal system. In his new form, Daxter has lived 27 years, resulting in 88 in all.
Height: The Thoughsteal system which houses his biological remains is 75cm tall. His outer frames are of varying sizes.
Weight: The Thoughsteal system weighs 70kg
Hair Color: The hair on his Social frame is mostly blonde, although in some light it may seem white.
Eye Color: The eyes of his social frame are a mix of green and yellow.

Race: Human. Well, as much as a brain in a tank that is capable of moving around a robotic body around can be called one that is. Most prefer the term cyborg, or some derogatory alternative.

Job Role: Researcher, forcibly recruited to S.T.R. from F.I.E.L.D. after the destruction of his warlike frame in attempts to combat the sentient ooze.

Physical Appearance:

The Thoughsteal tank is a heavy alloy cylinder with only a couple windows inside. This is something Daxter is only seen as within his maintenance vault, so there is no need to go further into detail.

The social frame is what Daxter is seen in outside of his laboratory. Modelled after what he looked like in his early-twenties, at least from the waist up that is. The upper body is covered in a layer of fake skin and muscle to make him more approachable and the system even keeps the outer layer warm to keep the illusion of a human being. It even mimics human speech instead of using some thought-to-speech synthesizer. The facade is quickly broken by looking at the lower body though, as the frame is equipped with backwards bending shake reducing bipedal tranporting system that somewhat mimics the operation of human legs. No risks to be taken when it comes to transporting your delicate nerves, correct?

The lab frame is commonly used during his working hours, unless surgery is required (the quadropedal suit's legs tend to get in the way). The frame consists of four legs, a twisting anchor point and the upper body unit with moving arms with pure white and mostly smooth surface, open at joints.

The warlike frame that was destryed resembled a tank more than anything else. Now it looks like a tank with a huge hole through it barely past the midpoint.

Attire:

Commonly the social frame dons a dress shirt with a black vest and a lab coat, all of them in pristine condition. Rare is the moment when Daxter lets his dress code slip.

Personality:

Well, Daxter's personality... let's just say that he is not your average Joe. He might even show signs of what mundane people might call insanity, but that surely cannot be right. They simply do not understand his way of thinking. Not all would sacrifice their body to try and finish what they started, to fulfill the vow given to their dearest on their deathbed, to reach beyond mortality and tread where even our creators dared not. To him, all that matters is that one day, he'll be able to finish projects Leviathan and Harpy after the success of project Fenrir.
It won't be easy to earn his trust. Especially not after how people have been treating him since "being canned", as they put it. Currently he trust only Virus, his personal AI assistant and overseer of his lab and Lev, another of the lab personell. And you might have guessed it: She is also a work of his hands.

Weapons & Equipment:

Thoughsteal system - The backbone of Daxter's continued existence. The system preserves his life and when inserted within his frames allows him to control the robotic bodies. It also proves to be a pretty good tool versus the N-008 virus: The only way it could get inside the tank is for it to contaminate the nutrition packets that are exchanged weekly and kept within a constantly sterilized vault while awaiting use.

Social frame - The extension to Thoughtsteal that allows more natural social interaction and refined motoric movements.

Laboratory frame - This extension allows for safe and somewhat precise laboratory and computer work. Equipped with several dataports and encrypted database with Daxter's complete research data, some temporary sample storage tubes and not to forget self defence, it has a ranged taser on each shoulder with 270 degree firing radius, blocking off firing towards the middle of the frame for obvious reasons.

Warlike frame - It had flamethrowers, armoured treads, sample collection system and several vacuum and liquid based containment units. Now it is little better than scrap metal. Conclusion: Do not attempt to kill sentient ooze with fire.

Ability:

Knowledge (Biology, Nanotechnology, Mechanics and Artificial Intelligence): Daxter has no supernatural abilities beyond what his frames grant him. However, to even reach this point, Daxter had to become a genius in his own right in all of these categories.

Brief History:

The following data was provided to the lead of S.T.R. upon request of Dr. Daxter Sness, packet parsed together by Virus.

Ages 0-25 - Very little significance. Studies, marriage, the usual.
Age 26 - A defining point in Daxter Sness' life. A catastophic failure happened while his wife was giving birth. Both his wife and daughter perished. Sness wowed to bring them back, taken too soon. He proceeded to take DNA construction samples. Cue the start of projects Leviathan* and Harpy.
Ages 27-61 - Projects Leviathan and Harpy saw little success during this period, but the existence of yours truly began during this period, just as project Fenrir took place from 60 onwards.
Rebirth - Project Fenrir succeeded and Thoughtsteal system initialized. Mechanization of most functions granted Dr. Daxter Sness the much needed resources to continue his other projects.
Post-Rebirth - Project Leviathan has been brought forward, Lev lives. Project Harpy has seen no such success, as such a shortcut as was used in making Lev an underwater creature would not do. Lev has recently obtained an enricher collar which allows her to walk around on dry land, although it renders her mute for the duration of wearing it.
Post-Guildfall - For a short while, Sness was a part of F.I.E.L.D. but this came to an abrupt end as Warlike frame suffered high damage in an attempt to combat the ooze. Forced switch to S.T.R. was in order.

_End of provided data_

Relationships:

By heart, Daxter still belongs to F.I.E.L.D. and assists their operations in whatever way they can.
Virus - The AI created as an assistant and an overseer. Daxter is the boss, but treats Virus like an equal. It never mocks him unlike many others.
Lev - The result of project Leviathan, and the somewhat modified reconstruction of her daughter's DNA. Even with his mechanization, Daxter holds a srong emotional tie to this currently 16 year old girl-something that combines cybernetic attributes and biological engineering.

Name: Cynder Luzu Assana
Alias(s): Sometimes called "The Kid" either playfully, mockingly or admirably.
Gender: Female

Height: 5'3
Weight: 106 lb
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Light Blue

Age: 17
Birthday: February 20th
Astrological Sign: Pisces-Aquarius

Race: Water Elemental

Job Role: Researcher (F.I.E.L.D)

Physical Appearance: Being that Cynder is a water elemental, she has the ability to change her "solid appearance" to anything she desires while in a large body of water (ex: river, lake, ocean, etc) due to merging properties. If she does not have access to water, she'll keep to her "land form" which is a "child-like" short girl with a small frame, extremely pale skin, light blue eyes and long, curly blonde hair that reaches a little over her shoulders.

Attire: Cynder is absolutely obsessed with jewelry, hence the unusual amount of talismans, bracelets, necklaces and rings that adorn her body. She often wears loose clothing such as polyester and nylon dresses and a matching pair of greek-styled sandals to go with. Her reason for wearing loose clothing is due to her hatred of heat. She wears a silver circlet with an amethyst gem in the center.


Personality: A rebellious and mature girl with a serious attitude, she has some leader aspects despite being younger than most of her comrades. Deeply spiritual and very "in-tune" with nature, she is a great lover of animals and the natural world, being greatly curious of the mysteries that surround it. She, however, lacks warmth for most people and is very stern and awkward while socializing with others causing her to fire back snarky comments, insults or just plain stumbling over finding the correct wording. It's possible to gain her trust and when you do, you may be surprised to find an insecure girl who is filled with optimism, kindness and warmth. Despite working in the middle of the action, she is quite the opposite of being fearless - she is actually a huge coward and crybaby, easily fainting or crying over the death or body of an individual, though most times she is capable of hiding this behind a cold facade. The same facade that allows her to be viewed as borderline sociopathic due to her lack of hesitation towards unethical decisions. Her passion and coldness is both feared and admired by her comrades due to the fact it's very surprising that a girl so young could be so far advanced in the research field simply from willingness to experiment and not from training or knowledge itself. It should be noted that she is racist towards those who are from the Advanced Section, believing them to be "too snooty" and "over-privileged".

Weapons & Equipment:

• Equipment: Food, canteen, bandages, three notebook, pen, spare rifle ammunition, binoculars.
• High Velocity Rifle Javelin: Bayonet rifle that doubles as a lance/rifle. Cynder's sole weapon.

Abilities:

• Water && Ice Magic: Essentially water manipulation and modified water manipulation. Weakens depending on distance from water.
• Healing Magic: Very low leveled, can only heal minor and single wounds.
• Shape-shifting: Only while in water, water elementals can change their form to anything they desire.
• Disease Immunity: Higher immunity from diseases than most races, however, nobody is sure how far this stretches. . .

Brief History: Born somewhere in the depths of Casual section's forest, Cynder was cursed with belonging to a nomadic race, causing her to migrate to the Free section before late childhood. She spent most of her life isolated from other races aside from those who were brave enough to enter the territory of water elementals. While most of them were intimidating to hunters due to their deep love of animals, the water elementals were kind to those who gave them their trust and often led lost individuals home. Because of her distance from society growing up, Cynder had not been a witness to the Guildfall. She, however, heard of through her favorite visitors who often brought gifts, food and stories. Her favorite, by far, was the stories. Her favorite strange tale was the one that affected the region they were in: the N-008 virus. Though it was highly unlikely for elementals to become infected, the fear still swept the community, causing them to relocate once again to their former home in the Casual section. Cynder, however, obsessed with understanding how the natural world operated ran off in scientific pursuit and joined the other survivors, leaving her people to their possible demise.

Relationships: Will be adding this over the course of the Roleplay.

Name: Amelian Leonard Draco
Alias(s): "Bonehead"
Age: 22
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 167
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Red

Race: Cursed Human

Job Role: I.D.R.I.S Officer

Physical Appearance: From the effects of his curse, several bones have managed to grow out of his body permanently. Though, besides that, he is very well fit from a years of training.

Attire: A leather trench coat covers most of his body. Under the coat is standard patrol armor, and a pair of padded combat pants and boots. Around his neck is a crystal that helps him control his curse, it normally glows.

Personality: Amelian is normally a bit of jackass. He can seem like he doesn't care about anything other than himself, but if you actually get to know him...he's actually just a jackass who cares about things a lot. He sometimes stresses himself out over work and life. Feeling that this is a weakness he does his best to cover those feelings most of the time.

Weapons & Equipment: combat knife, first aid kit, license to kill (I.D.R.I.S badge)


Ability:
Bone manipulation of his own body, is able to control every bone in his body.
Basic healing knowledge
Weapon Mastery
Cursed immortality (Doesn't die from Age)

History: Once long ago in a drunken story, there lived a young man with his family. The family was very powerful, having control of most trade in the European area. Of course the family had many enemies, but they had few who could touch them. Though the ones that could didn't dare to try. For most of the world both feared and respected this family. Except for one old woman, A woman who would place a cures apon the family. sending them into a rage as their body's betrayed themselves. Though one of the family was able to hold onto his sanity and flee.

Many years pass, and the one who fled hasn't aged a bit. He marches to his home after years of training to be able to control his curse. His home is in ruins,and his family is nowhere to be found. All that is hear is the cackling of the old woman. for many years he hunted the woman. To free not only himself, but his loved ones. Within half a decade he finds her.

He busted into an old town, killing his way through creatures that he had never seen before. As he reached the town hall he heard fighting. He kicked the door down as a blade came down on the old woman. A young man stood before him covered in blood. Though it didn't seem like much of it was his. Looking over the rest of the hall he now sees his family slaughtered across the room. His mother, sister,and father lay dead. The hero turned and raised his blade. The man looked the hero in the eye and let his rage take over. When he awoke the hero was gone, and he was covered in what he guessed was his blood. There was a cold weight on his neck. Running to a bathroom to look in the mirror. He found that the woman's chains had attached to him, and the red crystal had brought Him back. A whisper had moved through the house, avenge us.

He set out and a few years later he found the hero in a bar, and shared a few drinks with him.

Relationships: Amelian is known, or at least heard of, as the I.D.R.I.S Officer who enjoys any bar in town. Though he actually has a few friends, no one knows to much about him. Seeing how he keeps to himself unless his jobs says otherwise.

Name: Edoric Thatch
Alias(s): Clock, Echos, Madhouse
Age: 21
Height: 6'1'' feet
Weight: 141 lbs.
Hair Color: Silver-White
Eye Color: Purple (turns crimson when using powers)

Race: Halfling (Human and Elf)

Job Role: Soldier (S.W.O.R.D.) - Combat Specialist

Physical Appearance: Edoric is tall with an average build, nothing too much to write home. His ears are slightly pointed at their ends which are usually covered by a mess of long sliver hair. The most notable thing about Edoric is something that isn't even his appearance, its his aura. Most people who stand around him notice something... dark. Even without knowing him, his very presence can be described as creepily unnatural.

Attire:

Edoric's standard clothing is a short-sleeved black shirt with downward lines towards the bottom, pointing towards white pants and black army-styled boots, He dons a long light grey jacket with white lines and a fur collar of some beast he refuses to say. Accompanying him is a matching pair of black headphones and a choker, two knives hide in his jacket.

Personality:

Edoric is unpredictable, if not on the edge of insanity. A reckless lone wolf, his speech has more than a bit of snark. However, his recklessness should not be taken as foolishness, he has the capability to still use reason no matter how much he's "enjoying" himself. He also enjoys scaring people and has a small sadistic streak that comes out more when he fights. Blood and gore do not faze him, if anything it frenzies him if anything.

His more sane side has him being more of a indifferent procrastinator who enjoys stalking the internet or (attempting) to be good at video games. When he's "sane", he shows what seems like the ability to care, a rare sight to most.

The best way to judge if he "insane" or "sane" is by his eyes, if they're crimson and seem to glow, its advisable to run like hell away from him.

Weapons & Equipment:

Two knives, "Starset" and "Oracle"; Starset is longer and acts as the hour hand for Edoric's magic. Outside of his knives, he usually is armed with some variation of rifle and pistol. If he's really pissed at something an RPG might get thrown in with a machine gun.


Ability:

-Clocktower Spells - A series of magic spells based on time periods but not the control of time itself, Clocktower Spells is what makes Edoric a cut above his unit even without his natural ablities.


-Showtime - Surprisingly, Edoric is well versed in the preforming arts with acting and magic tricks being the most accomplished. He uses it to both entertain himself and others or distract people or even increase his eerie persona. Also has some degree of mimicry and can disguise himself as other, useful for when he wants to pose as a chief so he can access the cookie jar.

-Matrix Dodge - The ability to dodge otherwise insane things. However, Edoric has yet to full master this skill and while he as more agility and better reflex than the normal person, there's a 50-50 chance he will fail at a dodge.

Brief History:

Edoric had always been a bit... out of it. He spend a good deal in the city after fleeing from another one for attempting to force a goat to do very strenuous yoga. Lurking around much of the city, taking increasingly frequent visits to the Advanced and Nation wards, he landed himself a job as a performer and greeter for many of the new denizens in the Introduction ward for a while before once again wondering the streets, hoping something interesting would soon pop up.

Now, with the virus threatening the total destruction of the city, the crazy professional Asian decided to join S.W.O.R.D. and put on the show of a life time.

Relationships:

Aria "Roman" Astaline - A Deminutian girl who he found during his nomadic walks in the Nation ward, the two have stuck together for a while now and have developed a sort of romantic relationship. She is the only person who Edoric openly shows much care for and worries about her own safety.

S.W.O.R.D. - Seen as a love-hate relationship, while he's liked because of his seemingly unstoppable and often vicious abilities, his recklessness and inability to take orders has caused quite a stir with the higher ups.

F.I.E.L.D. - The only organization which he has a semblance of respect for. Mostly due to they're just as crazy as he is in some cases. He often brings back bits of stuff he finds to the researchers to see if they're either worth selling or are of importance.

Name: OM-2468

Alias(s):
Oscar Mike

Age:
26

Height:
6'2

Weight:
215 lbs.

Hair Color:
Dirty Blonde, Buzz cut

Eye Color:
Right eye green and left eye pale blue, injury induced heterochromia

Race:
Human, Clone

Job Role:
S.W.O.R.D. - Recon Specialist

Physical Appearance:
Oscar Mike has fairly pale skin, more of a product of prolonged use of his combat armor than anything else. There are a multitude of scars covering his body, you name it and he's probably got it. Slashes, burns, bullets, and stabs. He even has a bite somewhere from an unrelated accident involving vodka, whiskey, and barbeque sauce. Being what he is Oscar Mike has a toned, well built body that has gotten him laid more times than once. His face is rough and angular with several scars marring its surface. The most notable is a vertical slash that begins just to the side of the right nostril and slides all the way down past the lips and stops just at the bend of the chin. The second is a rough scar that marks the scrape of a bullet just to the side of the left eye, travels along the skull and clips the top of the left ear.

Attire:
Besides the UPR-RDC Combat Armor, Oscar Mike wears basic military fatigues. The cargo pants are dark green while the simple t-shirt is a lighter, almost grey shade. All topped off with combat boots and dog tags that read "SLAG ME" instead of any identification.

Personality:
As far as everyone knows he's cool headed soldier with a knack for nicknames and keeping collected under fire. A paragon of military bravado and humble masculinity to any and all would be S.W.O.R.D. applicants. However the truth is he holds very low self esteem, thinking himself more as a product and then a person. While others worked and sacrificed for their skills he just popped out of the oven, gun in hand and pushed onto the front lines where he saw himself die hundreds upon of hundreds of times as the Brass kept putting meat into the grinder. He is damaged goods, shoved aside when his skills were no longer needed. But nobody needs to know that.

Weapons & Equipment:
UPR-AR7 Assault Rifle: A versatile weapon, effective at close and medium ranges. Ammo created through a digistruct module with a reload cooldown of about one and a quarter seconds. Attachments include a standard issue Peacekeeper scope, flashlight, and a single shot grenade launcher or "Noob Tube".

UPR-RDC Combat Armor: Standard issue Peacekeeper recon armor. Protects vital bits and doesn't restrict movement. Comes equipped with a basic heads up display, monitoring vitals, managing equipment cooldowns, basic movement radar, and quest updates. Now with 50% less combat fatigue

Stealth Generator: A cloaking device that obscures Oscar Mike from both visual and radar protection for 9 seconds, firing weapons breaks the effect.

Long Range Radio Pack: Once able to call in fiery death from above, now reduced to a basic radio. Useful nonetheless.

Ability:
I was MADE for this: Oscar Mike was created from the DNA of one of the best soldiers ever known, [CLASSIFIED]. As such he came out of the growth tube a paragon of human physical potential, along with some small adjustments. Instead of memories of scraped knees on the farmstead or nights of passion before a deployment, Oscar Mike was filled with combat tactics and how to kill a man in any given environment with anything on hand or with his hands. Fairly screwed up "childhood" in all honesty.

The long war: Expecting a much, much longer war the Peacekeepers created Oscar Mike with biological immortality. This makes him immune to the wasting effects of time and prevents his death from its passage.

Never saw it coming: A recon specialist in the war, Oscar Mike makes little to no noise when he is scoping out an area.

Broken Nerves: Oscar Mike is so emotionally damaged that he doesn't actually feel fear, something many mistakenly believe as a natural coolness under fire.

Brief History:
Once upon a time there was a war in the stars, a war so brutal and terrible that one side was grinding more bodies then they could throw at the problem. Then came along the miracle cloning. Now instead of the troublesome process of "recruiting" and "training" poor chumps to throw away, the Peacekeepers could now just push a button and BLAM a regiment of soldiers ready to go! The battle turned into the Peacekeepers favor, they were taking back lost ground and even on the edge of a win before the other guys made their own clones and everything came to a blood soaked stand still. After three more years of this a peace treaty was created and with a flick of a switch every clone made had its "just in case" cranial bomb triggered, all but one who was saved by a stray bullet an hour before. When young Oscar Mike awoke, he was all alone.

Fast forward a decade and young Oscar Mike wasn't so young anymore and in fact, didn't even exist officially. Which in the grand scheme of things, was quite all right for him. Things were looking good for Oscar Mike, he had a good house, a steady job, and food that wasn't a nutrient condensed brick. However as the saying goes, good things never last and Oscar Mike found himself tragically repeating the past.

Relationships:
Will add in time.

Name: Cho Sun-Jin
Alias(s): Death; Reaper; Shadow
Age: Frozen at 32
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 185 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Totally black

Race: Undead

Job Role: Soldier - Solo Reconnaisance and Special Ops

Physical Appearance:
Cho is a pale man of Asian descent, being Korean and all. His eyes, from sclera to iris, are entirely black, and a thin black mist seeps from the corners of his eyes constantly. His flesh, on the whole, is pale and grey, befitting one who is already dead. He has short cropped black hair, akin to a military style left uncut for about a week or two. He is lean and muscled for his height as well. His voice is a normal Asian-American man's voice, but multiplied several hundred times over, like the voice of a veritable legion.

Attire:
Cho's military gear is a short sleeved shirt underneath his tactical vest. The vest itself is a standard issue military-grade tactical vest, replete with ammunition pouches, grenade pouches, straps, the whole nine yards. He also wears urban camoflage fatigues and black combat boots, and black fingered gloves. He also wears a pair of streamlined black sports shades, and wears his dog tags on a chain around his neck. What distinguishes his gear from the other gazillion soldiers in the resistance is that his vest is almost like a part of him. It regrows damage done to it, and blocks everything from a medium velocity bullet to a sword stab, and everything below that level of damage. The vest's attachments onto him are several tendrils of darkness that extend from points on the vest that burrow into his flesh on his neck, shoulders and torso. These tendrils pulse and throb very slightly, since the armour itself is, in a way, alive and a part of him.

Personality:
Cho is rather quiet for a man of his caliber, and for good reason: he is focused and resolute, powered mainly by the tragedy that happened to his dad and grandma. If you talk to him, he'll chat with you at length on whatever subject you wish to discuss, but leave him alone and he'll lapse into a grim, tense silence, punctuated only by the sounds of his equipment being checked, double checked and triple checked for each and every mission.

Equipment:
-Upper Body:

• Reaper's Armour - What used to be ballistic ceramic plating underneath a standard issue ballistic vest. The dark magics within Cho have repaired his former mortal armour and have turned it into regenerative plating that's a part of him.

-Lower Body:

• Boots of Travel - These firm, black leather combat boots are now enchanted with travel: they will carry Cho any distance he requires, help him leap tall distances and also strengthen his legs if he needs to kick something.

Weapons

• Reaper's Scythe/Tac - What once was a CheyTac Intervention M-200 variant sniper rifle is now a magic-powered and enhanced death machine. Formerly bolt action, the rifle is now semi automatic, and has an effective supersonic range of 2,200 yards or 2 kilometers. The rifle itself is born of the darkness and vengeful hate within Cho, and somewhere along the line the rifle itself was given a semblance of life. It is now a sentient being that lives off of the darkness within him. He equips it by attaching it to his right shoulder and forearm, gripping the pistol grip as he would normally. The living weapon latches onto him and draws upon his energy. The rifle fires Shredders; powerful parasites that act like regular bullets when fired, up until they impact a surface, at which point it opens its jaws and burrows, using its fired momentum to travel deep within and even through armour plating, walls and surfaces. The parasites then trigger an inner mechanism, transforming their streamlined bodies into sharp, thorny tumours that stay within their target, before expiring in a flash of heat and force akin to a small firecracker explosion.
• Liquid Shadow/Kris - What was a KRISS Vector submachine gun is now a blazing fast shadow shooter. Working like a very high powered paint gun, the Shadow fires bolts of liquid darkness that can mark and paint any surface, alongside regular bullets. It ties into his ability to submerge and travel through darkness and shadows, as he can travel in and through wherever he's shot his weapon at.
• Death's Mark/Hek - This used to be a Heckler & Koch P30L pistol. Now it's a marker. The pistol fires slugs of solid ink that can penetrate and splatter a target. This ink magically forms itself into a Mark of Death; a jagged cross bordered by a ring of thorns, and then hardens and crystallises, immobilising the affected area. Once a target has been marked, Cho can then fire at the mark to shatter it, causing immense damage or even outright ending his target in one blow.
• Culling Blade/Barr - His old Ka-bar knife, now a tool of morbid death. It still looks and functions as a knife, except its blade is now so sharp it can cut metal. Wounds caused by the blade will also never stop bleeding and cannot heal unless he allows it.

Abilities:

• Enhanced Speed
• Enhanced Agility
• Enhanced Reflexes
• Enhanced Accuracy

Magic

• Shadow Form - Cho is able to turn his entire body into darkness, becoming intangible as well as immune to physical damage. He is able to, in this form, merge with nearby cast shadows by immersing himself in them. In this way he is able to traverse large areas at night by way of "swimming" in the darkness.
• Crow Image - Cho is also able to take the form of a large, black crow. In this form he can fly anywhere he pleases, but nothing else. Transforming between human and crow takes a matter of seconds.
• Darkness Tendrils - Made of shadow, Cho is able to form several long tendrils made of darkness. These can emerge from anywhere in his body, but most commonly form from the scar on the left side of his torso, next to his heart. Cho is able to use these tendrils to manipulate objects, help him traverse terrain or even attack.
• Shadow Regeneration - Cho is made of the shadows, and as such simply being in the dark allows him to slowly regenerate any damage done to his person.

Brief History:
Cho hails from the Arena, in a reality that houses Earth, well, one of an infinite number of Earths anyway. Specifically, on this particular Earth, the existence of the supernatural and paranormal was a given, but these forces were not considered friendly, as all attempts to make contact with said forces were met with hostility, violence and death.

When he was young, he was always interested in the military, and after all the above experiences, you could say he is living the dream, his dream anyway. After all, his family was partly military too, at least on his father's side. His mother was a simple and humble cook in a small street corner eatery near home that served home grown and home cooked foods for the locals, neighbours, visitors and what have you. However, he lost his whole family when the cruise ship they were on capsized due to a freak paranormal waterspout caused by a kaiju. Since then he has carried a deep-seated grudge against anything paranormal or supernatural, his hatred fueling his quest for vengeance. He joined the organisation ParaCom to help fulfil this quest.

Within ParaCom he excelled at hunting and destroying anything paranormal, and he made fast friends with the squad he was assigned to. Within a few years his squad had become one of the best at their job, and for good reason.

On a mission to a Canadian forest, he and his squad were ambushed by a Viking warrior. The lone warrior turned out to be more than a match for the whole squad, however, and they were subsequently slaughtered to the last man. Cho was the very last casualty, the Viking having saved him for last.

Just before he died, the Viking packed his wounds with a magical ash, claiming that the sniper was a worthy warrior but not meant to die just yet. This ash imbued his body with a strong power, added together with his own innate magic, made the corpse that used to be living a very powerful artifact. Thus was how he was chosen by the Darkness to be a Reaper.

He was raised from the dead by the interdimensional dark, his blood replaced by darkness, his heart powered by his vengeance and hate. His weapons were given a rework to better suit his new form by demons inhabiting them. When he awoke, he recalled little of his past grievances, but gained new ones in his confusion to understand his new form.

Now Cho wanders the multiverse, a shadowy mercenary that uses his powers to quell whatever evils lays in any land. His ability to traverse the worlds through the very shadows themselves is a unique talent, one that has earned him much respect.

Recently his travels have led him back to this plane of reality and to the city of the Guild. There, upon instruction from his boss, the Darkness, he united with the other three members of his team and set out to purge the lands of its darkness and strife. However, due to recent events within the City, he has been separated from his comrades, and is on a mission to find them and help the residents deal with the persistent problem of the viral infections, fog and other everpresent dangers.

Relationships: