[color=9E6A29][CENTER][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220724/d79e75616657b4a28692ebddb3c3a001.png[/img][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][center] [img]https://i.ibb.co/0hX0wQF/Briddell-Shaded.jpg[/img][color=2E2C2C][sup]_______________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center][hider=// INFO][indent][sub][b]P E R S O N A L D E T A I L S[/b][/SUB] [sup] [b]Full Name[/b][COLOR=white] - Briddell Loethwynn[/COLOR] [b]Age[/b][COLOR=white] - 45[/COLOR] [B]Gender[/B][COLOR=white] - Female[/COLOR] [b]Vocation[/b][COLOR=white] - Sentinel[/COLOR] [b]Nationality[/b][COLOR=white] - Scila[/COLOR] [/SUP][/indent][/hider] [hider=// PERSONALITY][indent][SUB][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/sub] [sup][COLOR=9E6A29][b]Misanthropic[/b] [COLOR=white]Briddell doesn't like people. Or perhaps it would be more apt to say she doesn't like [i]humans[/i]. Owing to what happened to her beloved children, she professes loudly and often that she absolutely [i]loathes[/i] human beings. The world is falling to pieces, and yet still—when there are Hunters that give up everything they are to protect them—they find a way to be cruel.[/COLOR][/COLOR] [COLOR=9E6A29][b]Protective[/b] [COLOR=white]Briddell is not one to let others take a hit if she can help it. She's stronger, she's tougher, and the pain only stokes her Gift. She will go out of her way to leap in the way of anything that might threaten her comrades, or, if she has time, to raise a wall of earth and stone before them. And despite her distaste for humanity, she places saving lives above all other duties of a Hunter for some reason...[/COLOR][/COLOR] [COLOR=9E6A29][b]Kind[/b] [COLOR=white]Perhaps it's because she can't [i]really[/i] bring herself to hate them. As deeply as she buries it, as much cynicism and anger she layers on top of it, Briddell cannot hide the simple fact that she is [i]kind[/i]. Openly so to Hunters, a bit more...complicated for humans, it doesn't matter. It is simply who she is.[/COLOR][/COLOR] [/SUP][/indent][/hider] [hider=// GIFT][indent][SUB][b]G I F T[/b][/sub] [sup][COLOR=9E6A29][b]Crisis Kinetics[/b] [COLOR=white]Briddell is a kinetic person, always physical, always moving, always striking. And her Gift fits that [i]exceptionally[/i] well. With every strike she takes, every lash of the Void or flame that sears her flesh, her Embersoul burns that much brighter within her chest. And as it does, she strikes ever harder. With each hit she takes she moves faster and hits harder, growing more and powerful as she takes more and more hits (resetting, of course, if her Ember needs to revive her). She can release part of this energy into brief, powerful bursts of heat from her body, dimming some of the power she gains but letting her dart across the ground, slip to the side in a quick dodge, leap into the air, or slam down with all the power of a rockslide. The sheer, shattering force this allows her to bring to bear cannot be understated. This is the source of her crushing power. This is her Gift.[/COLOR][/COLOR] [/SUP][/indent][/hider] [hider=// EQUIPMENT][indent][SUB][b]E Q U I P M E N T[/b][/sub] [sup][COLOR=9E6A29][b]Fists Like Meteors[/b] [COLOR=white]Briddell is a bit of an outlier, in that she doesn't actually have a single set weapon at all. Rather, she fights almost exclusively with her geomancy. Though it's versatile, able to create walls, blades, and crushing prisons (among others), she has one very much preferred form: a pair of massive gauntlets inches thick that completely enclose her hands and forearms, ripped straight from the earth beneath her. As one might expect, they are very heavy. And therein lies her secret. She uses her muscles to pilot them, certainly, and she is very much not weak. But she commands them with geomancy as well, fighting as much with her mind as her muscles. But even so, they remain versatile. While she prefers to keep them in their fist forms for ease of use, she is quite practiced at manipulating them on the fly. Most commonly, she disassembles them and reforges them in front of her as a stone shield, or she channels her Gift through a fist, launching a hail of deadly stone shrapnel. All that being said, this power is worthless where there is no stone for her shape. And though that's uncommon, it certainly isn't impossible.[/COLOR][/COLOR] [/SUP][/indent][/hider] [/cell][cell][b]Physical Description[/b] [color=white][indent]The first thing that people notice about Briddell is how [i]imposing[/i] she looks. Nearly six feet tall and very muscular and well-built, she very much looks the part of the frontline brawler that she is. A pair of narrow dull yellow-brown eyes that show a deep dissatisfaction with the world—and beneath that, a profound sorrow—sits beneath shoulder-length hair, strands split between a rich chocolate brown and a gleaming golden-blonde. She leaves it loose-hanging and tangled almost all the time, though with some brushing and styling it cleans up rather nicely. She carries herself proudly, but the tightness of her muscles and the lines on her face show the anger that boils underneath her skin. She dresses in a traditional Scilari style done up in black and red-brown for the most part, but has cut a great deal of her clothing down to make it both less restrictive of movement and less terribly hot around the burning heat that is her Embersoul. On the occasion that she ever runs into polite company, she carries an equally traditional Scilari shawl-robe that drapes long sleeves over her arms, but leaves her hard shoulders exposed. [/indent][/color] [b]Character Conceptualization[/b] [color=white][indent]Briddell grew up in a Scilari orphanage from ten years old, one of the countless children of the Great War. The matron of the orphanage, one Ina Tamwell, is still the kindest person she has ever met. With a full orphanage—twenty children—she still managed to give them all the attention that they wanted and the food that they needed, and always had a smile ready. The orphanage, positioned almost directly on the border of Scila with Midnos, never had a vacancy; whenever a child died, was adopted, grew up, any way of leaving, there was always another to fill the gap. Despite all of her siblings vanishing, Briddell grew up as a cheerful, helpful child. She had never been close to her parents, and they certainly hadn't been close to her; all she really had from them was the name Loethwynn, and so Ina was, as far as she was concerned, her real mother. So shouldn't she help with the chores? As she grew, that helpfulness and desire to help her mother matured into a deep sense of responsibility. Ina had put her heart and soul into raising them, and though none of her original brothers or sisters were still there, even as she aged past childhood and into her adolescence, she remained. Not out of a feeling of obligation, but a genuine desire to help her adoptive mother as much as she could. Ina wasn't getting any younger. Her strength was beginning to flag, and she could no longer give every child of war the attention they deserved. And then, when she was sixteen years old, the sun stopped shining. From the darkness beyond the pale came the ravening Void. And though the war came to an end, there was still no shortage of orphans. Two years later, before the Hearths had been conceived, Ina—she was over sixty by then—took a fever that would not break. And though she tried her hardest, Briddell just...couldn't help her. With their guiding light gone, the children—some too young to realize why the sun wasn't rising anymore—began to lose that spark of hope that had always defined Ina's orphanage. So Briddell, unwilling to see them lose anymore, stepped forward. The Tamwell Orphanage became the Loethwynn Orphanage, and though she was barely more than a child herself and the days of plenty were long gone—the nice meals that Ina fed them all those years ago were nothing but a fading dream now—she gave it everything she had. It was at this time that she began to really practice her latent geomancy in earnest, determined to keep the fires of her home burning bright. Years passed, and she came into her own as the new matron, taking a fierce pride in being called "mother." Strong and protective, she sheltered all of the children under her wings as best she could. With the advent of the Hearths, the Void wasn't so bad. Ina took care of her at the epicenter of a colossal war. There was no reason she couldn't do the same for her children. She knew, sure as she knew her own name, that this was what she was meant to do. And then—a full twenty years after the Eclipse—a renegade group known as the Red Branch came to the border, let by a man named Fray. She didn't pay much attention to their machinations; she was busy enough as it was. But then it became worth paying attention to when the Red Branch was destroyed. Midnosian pyromancers roamed the streets of villages, burning them to the ground and stacking blackened bodies high. Fires in the night no longer brought comfort, only another threat to contend with. And the region—already under a very tenuous peace before—was destabilized completely. What knifes-edge peace there had been before was thoroughly shattered, and her beloved children were left in ever more danger. The Red Branch had ruined the land, ruined the people, ruined everything. Everybody was in danger now, and it was all the fault of Fray. And with all the chaos, she became sure that her natural geomancy just...wasn't enough. And though she spent the next five years deliberating and weighing the odds, she knew in her heart what she needed to do. And so she left her protege, the next director of the orphanage—a girl eighteen years old now who she'd raised nearly from birth she'd named Eva, and a budding powerful pyromancer in her own right—in charge, and traveled to Kethiline. She knew what being a Hunter meant. No taste. No sleep. A soul replaced, and condemned to die. And, of course, an eternal engine of pain burning within her for the rest of however much 'life' she had left. But, if it meant she could keep them safe for one second longer...no price was too high. Two weeks. She was only gone for two weeks. But when she came back to the region, which was only barely managing to knit itself back together in the loosest sense, she found the Loethwynn Orphanage—her beloved, and her home—in ruins. And worse...all of the children were gone. There was nothing left for her here. Her life—what remained of it—was shattered. The agony coursing through her was all for nothing, wasn't it? And a fierce hate for humans was kindled in her heart. She couldn't protect the children she'd spent her entire adulthood raising. And it tore her up inside like nothing else ever could. So what was she to do, now, with a long, empty unlife ahead of her? With nothing left but the clothes on her back and the stone beneath her feet? She would travel, fighting the Void wherever she found them. And searching. Searching for anybody who had some information about her children. They couldn't all be dead. She would never believe it. And if she ever found the ones who took them—who had taken her life and torn it to pieces—she wouldn't hesitate to [i]bring down the mountain upon them[/i].[/indent][/color] [b]Other Information[/b] [color=white][indent]TBD [/indent][/color] [/cell][/row][/table][/COLOR]