Sheet Draft 2. Still working on it. [Hider=Simon] [H1][color=f7941d][u][i][b]Simon Agrippa Lafayette.[/b][/i][/u][/color][/H1] [i]Everyone just calls him Simon though.[/i] [Hider=Quick Headshot][img]https://i.imgur.com/RSxqtdh.png[/img][/hider] [b][color=f7941d]Age:[/color][/b] 14 [b][color=f7941d]Species:[/color][/b] Bug-Folk. Silk moth variety. Bug-folk are a varied group, taking after the many genus of insect-like creatures in humanoid form. They most often retain some attributes or abilities of the true insects they draw inspiration from. While the communities of bug-folk can often be rather separate and divisive they have taken to congealing into larger communities despite the food chain their progenitors once belonged to. Bug-folk do not in fact partake in hunting each other in any form of cannibalism, though it was at a point tradition to stay within groups of bug-folk of the same kind. Butterfly-folk with Butterfly-folk and Beetle-folk with Beetle-folk etc etc. As the wilds are harsh and the larger communities of singular species bug-folk have dissolved, most bug-folk stick together among other species to ensure strength in numbers. The Silk-moth-folk in particular retain abilities of flight, albeit in varying degrees of success. Some also retain the trademark ability to weave silk strands, though much like original silk-moths, this is a trait often lost after the "larval" or youth stages in one's life. While some bug-folk take after specific stages of insect life-cycles like cocoon-folk, Simon in particular is not of the larval variety, and therefore does not have this ability despite his younger age. [b][color=f7941d]Description:[/color][/b] Simon stands at roughly 4"9, not being particularity short or tall considering his age. Like many bug folk he is quite light despite his size, weighing somewhere in the ballpark of 90 lbs. His person is often smudged with oil in places. Bumps and scratches appear all over and are promptly covered with an array of colorful band-aids. His voice is slightly awkward in a way that's hard to describe. A little higher pitched then one might expect, with slight accents on certain vowels. His pronunciation of words lean to what he thinks sound good instead of what are etymologically correct. His eyes appear luminous in dark locations, though they are instead reflective; rather than giving off their own light. [hr] [h2][color=f7941d]Persona[/color][/h2] [b][color=f7941d]Strengths:[/color][/b] Simon can often be described as duplicitous in nature. While he seems one way at times, he's the total opposite at others. He alternates from being loud and outgoing to being quiet and reserved. He is often fairly opinionated though he knows how to hold his tongue. [i]Most of the time.[/i] Once he's settled in with someone and decided he likes them, he acts rather nice and tries very hard to keep them close. Otherwise he tends to have his guard up, keeping people at arms length with jokes and fake smiles. Simon is supportive, and he likes to reinforce his friends with positivity. Whether not such honeyed words come across as sincere, is another tale. One of Simon's key strengths is his work ethic. He will skip nights of sleep or meals to continue working on something he's invested in. He's almost fanatical in some ways; less worrying about perfection and much more so making a splash. He enjoys grand displays, and is roped into things by such displays. If you want to win Simon over, you just need to be earnest. Having some fireworks will help too though. Simon marches to the beet of his own drum, and wavering him from that beat is nigh impossible. Come hell or high-water he will live his way. He isn't the type to give up on things or people, cherishing memories like gold. He will work as hard as he can to uplift his brothers and sisters to his own level, should he feel they are less joyful than he is. He is incredibly determined, and hard to dissuade off of something he's set his mind to. He's the sort to do something even if it's impossible, because he thinks there's value in trying regardless. He never expects perfection from anyone or anything, though he is still a firm believer that something can always be improved. [b][color=f7941d]Flaws:[/color][/b] A schemer, he may not always mean what he is saying. While not malicious they can be an opportunist. Likes to hear gossip though isn't one for spreading it around; unless it helps him in some way. Generally sort of nosy, he likes to be in the know about pretty much anything. His jokes can go too far at times; not in the way of being rude, more so in taking light of a situation. Not a very trusting person, it takes him some time to really open up to others. Simon is the sort to take a victory and run with it, even if that means seeming the smaller person. He will lord such victories over others, with a sort of "all's fair in love and war" mentality. He is not above cheating, though he often values people's feelings to much to do it in regards to people he is close to. His pride is in constant flow and he might sometimes act rashly for it, while other times throwing it to the wayside. Hes's a touch unpredictable if not well rounded. He's quite a stubborn person. While this can seem like a good thing at times with knowing what he likes and so on; it's gotten him into hot water before. If he thinks he's right, or even he can't give up on something, he'll stick to his guns. To him information is something that's hard to change once he gets it in his head, and sometimes he finds it hard to do it someone else's way if he doesn't agree with it. [b][color=f7941d]Neutral:[/color][/b] Works with a sort of "beat" always tapping their foot or making clicking noises with their tongue; it comes out whenever they focus on something intently. Should he take a particular attachment to something he will value it to an almost obsessive amount. This could be people or items, or even places. Sentiment and feelings guide him despite his mechanical way of thinking. He would gladly trade all the money to his name if he could buy back something he lost. He's the sort to buy a pretty item, and hide it away so that it never gets tarnished. Protective and self destructive he can sometimes jeopardize the bigger picture in favor of taking hold of whats in front of him. [b][color=f7941d]Skills:[/color][/b] Engineer: He pulls things apart to put back together, or fix things if asked to. Machinery are the love of his life and he can be found often messing with some contraption. He has a very analytic mind when it comes to handling tasks, and he doesn't give up easy on solving a problem. Eagle-Eye: Simon is a talented marksman. This wasn't entirely a natural occurrence, but brought on from weeks upon weeks of getting used to his own weapon. His eyesight is sharp and his aim now true. He is good at spotting moving things, or points of interest in a landscape. Such as a good position to set up a sniper camp. He's attentive and good to have on guard, or helpful to lookout for a sign. Quiet: Despite his somewhat less than pragmatic style Simon is good at switching to silent step. He uses this often to sneak back into his workshop or stay up late reading. He might sneak out to take shots a good distance away or poke around in other's things. He's patient when it comes to avoiding another's gaze and knows when to move to remain unseen. Another talent polished in his strict regiment of self marksman training. [hr] [h2][color=f7941d]Battle Profile[/color][/h2] [b][color=f7941d]Focal Crystal:[/color][/b] Orange smooth and flat; perfect as a skipping stone. Set into the stock of Simon's custom sniper rifle, it ripples with light from the center every time he fires the weapon. Big enough to fit in the palm of your hand, but difficult to fully wrap your fingers around. [b][u][i][color=f7941d]Special Equipment:[/color][/i][/u][/b] [list] [*][u]Longshot:[/u] Simon's aforementioned rifle and his pride and joy. Holds a moderate capacity of custom bullets per clip. These bullets are fashioned from cruz crystals. The firing mechanism means the bullets are propelled via magic rather than black-powder. The distance at which these bullets travel effectively is at maximum 80 ft. As a custom piece of work this weapon needs to be maintained while on the road, and has it's chances of malfunctions. [*][u]Buddy the Tool Box:[/u] Simon's enchanted toolbox nicknamed Buddy. It's enchanted effect is to place whatever tool Andy asks for at the ready, it can also places small machine parts at the ready as well. This allows for quick and efficient work even on the road. [/list] [b][color=f7941d]Equipment:[/color][/b] [list] [*]Simon keeps an assortment of mundane tools hidden on his person. An alan-key here and a screwdriver there... [*] Workers Eye: A monocle with a set of different lenses that can be lowered over the eye. They each have a different thickness/bend to them, making some "zoom" in more than others. Good for delicate work. [*] Turret Parts: The components for small turrets of Simon's design. Each case is about the size of a lunchbox, and weigh 10 pounds each. One is hooked onto each hip. Take ample time to set up are only good in short bursts. Actual abilities described in spell list. [/list] [b][color=f7941d]Weapon:[/color][/b] Arclight Spanner: Despite the fancy name it's actually just a rather large bolt-wrench. Good for whackin. Brass Knuckles: While Simon's punch is less than stellar, it helps to throw some metal into the equation. [h3][color=f7941d]Special Attacks:[/color][/h3] [b][color=f7941d]Moth Flash:[/color][/b] Some Moth-Folk are able to create burst of defensive bioluminescence. As with many other bioluminscent creatures this light is created through a chemical reaction within certain cells of the creature. For moth folk this flash is created along the cell lining of their wing membrane, and antennae. By quickly fluttering their wings they tense small muscle linings used to aid in flight, which allow for the chemicals to mix creating the flash of light. The quick "shutter" effect of the wings opening and closing rapidly help to aid in confusing a target of this effect. This ability can't be used too often, due to how the actual muscle and cell linings work within the Moth-folks wings. It's used to either dazzle light sensitive prey/predators or work as a distraction for group hunting. [hr] [h2][color=f7941d]Magic Profile[/color][/h2] [b][color=f7941d]Magic Lv:[/color][/b] 5 [b][color=f7941d]Spellbook:[/color][/b] A small notebook for the breast-pocket. Brown leather-bound with tan vellum pages. Notes and schematics poke out in places, with noticeable loose-leaf papers tucked against it's spine. A shimmering gold gear is emblazoned onto the cover. Smells faintly of oil and lit candles. [b][color=f7941d]School of Focus:[/color][/b] WORKSHOP MAGIC [color=f7941d]Spells:[/color] [color=f7941d][h3]Lesser Spells: (3)[/h3][/color] Ricochet: Implanting this spell into a bullet, Simon may create a magical "mirror" of sorts. When this bullet reaches a certain distance decided by Simon, it will bounce of an instantaneous reflective surface of magic. Depending on the angle this may allow Simon to hit multiple enemies or make shots that would be impossible by mundane means. The bullet cannot travel farther than it's usual 80 feet, and he has to be able to see the point of reflection on moment of firing. Double-Time: This spell kicks Simon as well as his weapon into a higher gear. For a short moment they receive a burst of speed, allowing Simon to attack twice in the span of time he would usually attack once. Brain-Drain: This spell increases the speed at which Simon can comprehend and intake information. He often uses it to speed along the invention or upgrading of items. This can also be used though to take a comprehensive look of a battlefield or collection of enemies in an instant. Continuous use of this spell in a row will cause great headaches, and in the worst documented case even nosebleeds. [h3][color=f7941d]Medium Spells: (1)[/color][/h3] Animate Arms: This spell allows near instant construction of small clockwork turrets. These are automated turrets running on magical energy. They decide on who is friend or foe based on Simon's perception. They will fire on enemies with rapid needle projectiles within 25 ft. They cannot be moved after created and immediately fall apart after using their ammunition, or after 1 minute. The parts are not created, and Simon must carry them at all times. Cannot create more than two turrets, the turrets must be within 10 ft of each other. They will fall apart should Simon leave a 30 ft radius of either turret. They are not particularity resilient, and will be destroyed with ample force. [hr] [b][color=f7941d]Misc Battle Info:[/color][/b] Simon fights from the back-lines, supporting his allies with high damaging and precise shots. His style is to be efficient rather than overwhelming; will use his fire to corral enemies towards advantageous positions for his allies. While he lacks many spells or machinery that can do this to start; his plan is to create drones that might take the brunt of damage instead of his friends. All in all he hopes to be the ultimate backbone for his party of ruffians. [hr] [h2][color=f7941d]Your Tale[/color][/h2] [i][color=f7941d][h3]"This is your tale, this is the sounds, and the tale you tell:"[/h3][/color][/i] A woman sit's against the wall on the head of her bed. Cross legged in a night-gown, she smoothly pens words into a fresh journal. A recently filled clone of this book sitting atop some other tomes on the table at her side. She is a younger woman, though her eyes speak of experience, full not only with knowledge of life but a bright thirst for more. Sweeping across the curving letters she made she smiled softly to herself, a familiar sound of clinking, metal on metal lightly emanating from a room over. Her hair and skin were pale white, with inhuman eyes and features denoting her Bug-Folk heritage. Her eyes seemed to glow lightly in the dimmed candle-lit room, she found little trouble navigating her language onto the page. Her thought pouring into it, he hand never stopping. [Hider=Travel Log Day -1:] [color=f6989d]"We're finally taking off! Leaving the safety of the barrier to forge a path back to a forgotten home! It's so exciting, I'm just itching to leave in the morning. I'm supposed to be the sensible one and yet I'm too excited to sleep. Germaine seems to be on edge too, although I can tell he's less excited and more anxious; but what else is new? He's been sitting at his table taking apart and putting together my rifle for hours now. I swear, that thing never misfires and yet he's always so worried about it. I appreciate his care but he still needs to learn to roll with the punches; you can't be ready for everything. Although if there was one things I'm worried about, it's our boy. What if he gets sick and we don't have medicine? What if I miss the only shot that matters? What if Germaine's machines falter, and something sneaks into our caravan? Ah, I shouldn't worry so much; our little cog is made of sterner stuff than that. I've seen him land face first so often since he's gotten his wings, and he's never cried once. ... I hope we're doing the right thing. It's hard to say whether the risk to our immediate family is worth the risk to our people as a whole... Ah, I really should get some sleep now. I'll write up another update when we're [i]actually[/i] on the road." -Sera[/color] [/Hider] A small family of three, with three wagons left the Galaxy Villa; treading a near forgotten path taken generations ago by other non-humans to find respite from the wilds, within those walls of magic. [Hider=Travel Log Day 001:] [color=f6989d]"As to be expected thing's won't be as simple as we'd hoped. We'd spent too long in between the planning and preparation stages before our departure. The gaurd we spoke to on our way past the cities walls informed us of some pretty severe flooding of the great river near Star City. We'll have to take the longer way towards Cosmo, re-supply there and then hope to cross through the cold forest taiga. The wetlands must be rather treacherous this time of year as well... If only time weren't such a factor perhaps we could have waited some months before leaving." -Sera[/color] [/Hider] A figure sits among some boxes, metal crates filled with different small gears or brass piping. Pulled over to the side of the road, a caravan of three covered wagons is shaped into a "U" formation, wrapping under a large tree providing some pleasant shade in the surprisingly harsh sun. an odd metal desk that seemed to unfold like an accordion was being set up, the man on the box moved it with familiarity and ease; as he should, considering he designed it. A father and husband, the man had broad shoulders though an overall thin figure. His eyes were etched with nights spent working, and his hands stained with traces of oil and soot. He differed from his wife and child, being of Bug-Folk origin, though taking after a different species altogether. The mantis man had startling eyes of bright yellow, light greenish skin and a thicker carapace over his arms and hands. The concentrated look in his eyes, and seeming unbreakable crinkle of his brow made him seem far more disagreeable than was true. Once he set his custom workbench out over his lap, he withdrew a small leather tome from his breast pocket, and took a small metal pen to it's pages. [Hider=A note is found in the margins of an odd blueprint:] [color=00a651]"We've been traveling for nearly a week now. We're going slower than I hoped; the horses seem to have trouble with all the metal we carry. Sera's note taking is becoming infectious. I find myself contemplating making entries like she does, and I fear I may be doing it as we speak. Of course we're not speaking, I am writing. It's sunny today, far more than anticipated with all the rain as of late. It's a nice change of pace I suppose but I'm not fond of the heat. Sera and Simon are enjoying the clear sky. We've stopped by a small lake to cool off. People are funny creatures. We complained so often on our trip about the rain, and now that's it clear we go swimming. Well, they do at least. I have machines to work on. I would never forgive myself if these turrets failed when it mattered. The rain is threatening their more intricate circuitry. Good to have a dryer day like today to fix things."[/color] In the corner of the sheet, a signature denoting a capital "G" is found. Depicted to look like a small gear of a sort, teeth running along it's rounded side. [/Hider] [Hider=Travel Log Day 011:] [color=f6989d]"Another rainy day, it's really coming down. The water pelting off of the canvas roof would be relaxing in any other situation. We hardly managed across the first river in our path. The bridge was still standing though some heavy flow from a mountain was bringing down dirt and logs. I thank whatever gods exist for not letting it break until we were over. Our little boy is scared of the thunder. The poor thing has been shaking at my side for hours. It's later now and he's still with sleep, but my heart still feels heavy. Every day I have to remind myself that this is for his good as well, but the guilt of dragging him through this is getting a lot to bear. No matter. When we're all settled in our new home, we'll do everything to keep him happy. An entire community will be in our debt; and I'll make sure he is able to enjoy their appreciation." -Sera[/color] [/Hider] In the dark of night, a crackling sound was all it took. One misstep and a loud shot rang out, metal barrel screaming with heat. A sharp whine of pain, and the feral dog went down. [color=f6989d]"We need light Germaine! They travel in packs!"[/color] The man had been asleep seconds before, rushing up from his weary state he moved to flick the lamps on. With a simple flip of a switch small caged bulbs running along the lengths of the carts lit up one by one. Each one casting another myriad of shadows across the nearby foliage of the forest. With deeper insight into the greenery, pairs of reflected eyes could be seen within view. The family wasn't alone, and of the two; their group was less hungry. [color=f6989d]"Time to move. I'll watch out left, keep your machines on the right and back end! Shout if you need me."[/color] The rifle-woman slid the bolt action lever back on her weapon, a metal casing clattering to the wooden floor bellow. A small figure clung to his mothers boot, the young Simon shook, his teeth clicking slightly in his skull. He knew his mum wouldn't miss, but she said there were a lot of them. It was always a lot. This whole trip was a lot. His little mind couldn't understand a lot. Not yet. [Hider=Travel Log Day 017:] [color=f6989d]"We survived an ordeal a few days back. I've kept from writing it until now, I don't know why. Perhaps I was scared of committing to paper. To admitting our mistakes in such a permanent manner. We're traveling faster now, but we're also getting more desperate. We lost a cart to the woods, full of metal and food; it was enough to keep the pack of beasts at our heels, rather than our throats. I wasn't fast enough to keep them all away, and I suffered for it. My left arm took a horrible bite, I can't lift my rifle properly now. I was stupid and I might have cost a lot of people the help we promised to bring. I am so tired now. I don't know how husband stays awake so often. I'm used to camping out for the right moment, the right shot. But this is a tired I am alien to. My heart is faltering, my mind exhausted. Ah well, no going back now. This will be the last I complain on these pages. I'm the spine of this family, I can't break. It's only uphill from here, happiness is on it's way. I'm sure of it. "[/color] -Sera [/Hider] [Hider=A note is scrawled overtop a dirt stained page. The design underneath deemed a failure.] [color=00a651]"The damn things broke. We can't stop to fix them, but the river crushed my turrets with their choppy water. Sera's arm isn't looking any better. What have we doomed ourselves to?"[/color] A familiar "G" symbol, marks the page. [/Hider] The only things Simon can remember are the claws. Three nails, sharp and jagged, raking across his body. Whatever it was, it was big yet fast; he didn't even see the thing before feeling the scream of pain across his abdomen and face. Just below his eyes, across his chest and above his waist three bleeding streaks sent him flying backwards. Off of the cart, away from mothers protection. His head struck a rock, and he was taken by the blackness of unconsciousness. While his mother and father, were simply taken. ---------- The two cart caravan was stopped by heavy mud and displaced tree roots. Pulled up from the earth by the wrath of a storm, the gnarled tree took hold of the left-side front wheel. The clattering of metal, wood and loose contraptions sliding into each other awoke something within the woods. It's hard to say exactly did what happened that night, the only survivor awoke in a warm bed, staring at a ceiling that was new to him. The young moth child didn't take to the news well. An older woman offered him a new life, tender care and a family. And he refused. For three nights and days, he refused. Continuously clambering out bed, hitting the floor and re-opening stitches the boy refused. Life could not change, not so quickly, not to unfairly. He wouldn't do anything to accept it. If he refused enough, it couldn't be truth anymore. He was offered soup, hearty yet easy to eat. He refused. He was offered fresh bandages, clean and willing to help him heal. He refused. Until Simon could not anymore, he refused. He was offered a new life. He was offered warmth, friends, a place to build, unity, aid, clean water, fresh food, stability. Everything he missed, everything he yearned for on the road. ... He refused. [hr] Years later, Simon sat at the bedside of Gertrude. The woman who took him in and cleaned his scars, who slowly healed the marks both physical and of the soul. She and her children, were with Simon already half as long as he was with his first family. In Francis he found stability, Maybell curiosity, Archibald positivity, Valeo a will to live, Rhaya strength, Astrae kindness and Sith wonder. In Gertrude he had found true, unconditional love. Here they were, safe and happy. Yet time was cruel, while being infinite it was oh so limited. She was sick, he was told she would die. ... He refused. [hr] [color=f7941d][b]Theme Song:[/b][/color] [Url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNunc0UN2Jo]The Sound of Something Clicking Away.[/url] [/Hider]