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The who of your character. You don't have to be super duper detailed here, but just give some personality traits.

The why of your character. Describe why he's here and what lead them to become a Nomad and gain all their cool-ass skills.

Describe all your character's martial arts (if any) or all things fighting.

hat are the weaknesses of your character? Are they bad at up close and personal encounters? Do they suffer from an illness? Or do they have a pathological weakness?

Anything else we need to know?

Walking around with his hands in his pockets and blending into the crowd is the mysterious Justin Haggar. Usually, he slinks around with his hood up at the crowd's heart. Despite his abnormality, it doesn't quite stick out a whole lot unless you are looking closely. Eventually, you'll notice the faint blue lights dotted up and down his being shining through his clothes, his slivery metallic hands, and how heavy he is despite being thin as a rail. That is because Justin is a cyborg; he lost most of his body in a tragic accident that leaves him quite the sulker. Everything underneath the neck is shiny steel, wires, and other such parts - he's a miracle of modern science. Justin usually slinks off to the room's corners and keeps to himself. He keeps his cybernetics as well concealed as possible out of shame of what he became.

As a New Yorker by birth, Justin has a bit of an accent - it's not overt. Much like his aura, Justin usually talks in a neutral tone, often sounding annoyed or antipathetic in situations he doesn't mean to. When Justin gets pissed, you're bound to know it. Despite his tough exterior, he has moments of slipping into other emotions, such as worry and confusion, and sometimes he can be pretty dorky. Enough about how Justin acts because Justin's still rather slim despite his cybernetic upgrades. They segue into his body without jutting too much; if it weren't for the faint lights, you probably wouldn't be able to tell he's a cyborg if he dresses heavily. Justin has a head of wavy blonde, straight hair that, if you were to touch it, you would realize that it's artificial hair. He keeps it clean and well-kept, and his facial features are European. Where he comes from is a mystery that he doesn't care to solve because he realizes that he's here in the moment, in the now.

Justin doesn't dress super flashy or wears the latest clothing. He's practically famous for wearing nothing but hoodies in any environment because the cold doesn't bother him anymore. He usually wears blue jeans (sometimes black jeans or, audible gasp, sweatpants) and some boots, usually some combat boots that he tucks his jeans into. However, Justin is always seen wearing headphones on his head (He even sleeps in them!)... are they just headphones or cybernetics?

Bitter: Justin has one hell of a chip on his shoulder; you don't walk away from what he walks away from without getting a little pissed off. Justin's a bit mad at the world for what happened to him, and fortunately, he directs that rage at the perpetrator: MIRAGE. Though he isn't exactly a short fuse, he is easy to annoy, but he usually keeps a lid on the overt aggression. He can be pretty snide, passive-aggressive, and snarky.

Socially Awkward: In truth, Justin was never exactly good at the whole social interaction thing. So he covers it up under a layer of mysteriousness and apathy and seems pissed off or annoyed all the time. He doesn't really mean to lash out at the world, but he has difficulty interacting with people and doesn't quite know the best way to handle every social interaction.

Revenge-Driven: Justin is, deep down, obsessed with revenge against Abel. The man took his body from him and turned him into a cyborg... and Justin has dedicated every moment since then to getting revenge against the man. However, thanks to Oh-Seven, he has been trying to temper his rage... and try to use it constructively. It's not working, not until the man he hates is dead.

Justin was born as the son of Douglas Haggar, a legendary cybernetics master who works for the International Hope Foundation. A company that is devoted to saving people's lives with cybernetics. Justin was just an average son of a man born in New York City and raised there. He had everything he needed growing up, but once he got out of school, he slowly began wondering about his place in the world. He lived in his father's shadow as he went through school and was expected to become his successor. But Justin wanted to become his own man.

The life of a scientist was not the life for Justin; instead, he wanted to make a difference in the world. He wanted to be a warrior, and the MAVERICK recruiter told him everything he wanted to hear to get him in. After a few months of grueling paperwork, Justin was sent off to his training, which took up the better portion of a year as he became the greatest MAVERICK warrior. He started on the bottom but eventually made his way up to being a sergeant, conducting numerous raids on hostile factions and taking out any Nomads that were a problem. He rose through prominence in the organization... eventually, it all came crashing down like anything.

There was an exhibit for the Hope Foundation, which had MAVERICK forces there just as a publicity stunt thing. And everything was going well... until Abel and MIRAGE's flying fortress appeared and attacked the exhibit. Justin fought as hard as he could, but Abel went straight for his father, and Justin tried to protect him... and allowed him to get away. Out of sheer annoyance, Abel had a machine attach itself to Justin and then self-destruct on his back. This nearly killed Justin... well, there was enough for his father, Douglas, to piece together what was left of Justin's life.

Justin was rushed straight to the emergency room and had to undergo a massive surgery that replaced most of his damaged body parts with top-of-the-line cybernetics. A new prototype weapon system is known as the LCD System. It was a week before Justin woke up... unfeeling. Justin was horrified to learn what had happened and realized that a large chunk of him was dead. In the dead of the silent night, Justin fled out... to help come to terms with what happened. He lived as a Nomad for a few years as he went from place to place, trying to figure out what happened. To find a purpose... but he wanted revenge against Abel. He was desperately looking for him.

This journey led Justin to the Fighting Carnival, hosted in Brazil, hoping to gain the power stone to give him an edge against Abel.

Justin's augmented by the top-of-the-line cybernetics known as the LCD Soundsystem. It's a powerful cybernetic defense system that's augmented to the point where he can contend with the strongest Nomads. Of course, to begin, Justin's strong as an ox and durable to the point where he can take most types of supernatural damage with ease and return the favor. He knows MAVERICK standard martial arts, which is a mixture of many different styles of martial arts (like Wrestling, Taekwondo, Boxing, etc), which makes him pretty versatile in a fight using a variety of different punches and kicks. However, the main strength of the LCD Soundsystem is the ability to create blue blasts of energy by channeling the power generated by its internal power generator. He can create energy blasts in various forms, from orbs to block-destroying beams. Justin's fighting style isn't all that... fancy or unique, but he's versatile and can use his talents to take on every type of Nomad. He's a jack of all trades; he can do a little of everything, but a specialist far outclasses him.

Justin has a few different strengths in different areas, but he isn't overwhelmingly strong in any category. He's pretty balanced overall. His martial arts are average; other Nomads outclass his movement, and he has some fairly standard projectiles. He's a jack of all trades; he can do a lot but isn't overwhelmingly strong in any category. That said, Justin has a glowing core in the center of his chest that provides his cybernetics with power... if it's damaged, it can slow him down to a halt until it's repaired or kills him outright. And it's hard to find people capable of repairing it (Justin's father has to direct him to someone under the table). Aside from that, Justin is very weak against electrical damage.

Swaying her hips from left to right is the seventh machine in the doomed One-Hundred line. Despite her brethren either going rogue or being destroyed, the girl keeps a constantly cheering demeanor. In almost any situation, it seems, she has a smile and a chipper tone. Some interpret it differently... is it genuine cheerfulness? Is it arrogance? Is it sarcasm? Or some slasher smile? Nobody knows, as Oh-Seven is a tough one to peg down.
In contrast to her partner in crime, Oh-Seven is always cheerful and happy and usually sticks out in a crowd due to the quirks in her behavior. She skips around, swaying her hips when she stands, and usually greets people with a smile and a wave. Is she programmed to feel affection toward humanity?

The girl sticks out in multiple ways... it's the fact that she's tall and has a wild head of bright blonde hair that flies around unnaturally as she moves. Oh-Seven doesn't hide the fact that she is not even human! She's one-hundred percent machine and has glowing blue eyes... with some of her machinery exposed on her left hand and left eye. It's done for personal reasons as she wants the whole to know that she is a machine, and she sure ain't hiding it from them. However, she was designed to please them with a sizeable chest and a very round behind.

Usually, Oh-Seven wears a black dress, but you can see her wearing various outfits. She considers herself a fashionista, after all, and rarely dresses for practicality; even in the most inappropriate situations, you can have her dressed like a model. Where she gets the money for the clothing is... classified, as she likes to say.

Kind: Oh-Seven is an adorable robot... as Gerard programmed her to be. Even in situations that seem grim, she is very kind and upbeat. She tries to be helpful as her systems allow her, but she has enough awareness to know when somebody is terrible news. Oh-Seven legitimately (as a robot can) loves humanity and wants to see them prosper. However, some threats get in the way of that dream.

Catty: Despite it all, Oh-Seven can be a very scathing person. She can be very snide, passive-aggressive, and sarcastic a lot of the time, especially towards enemies and people who wrong her. Despite that front, she puts up being the nice girl; she can put her foot down and use a bit of force to get what she wants.

Curious: Oh-Seven has a lot of memory just being used for... nothing. She wants to learn about the world and fill that memory bank with her experiences in the world. She wants to learn about the world of Nomads, the hidden world of magic, and the emerging world of technology. She wants to be the library that holds humanity's story.

Before there was Oh-Seven, there was Gerard Delacroix, a genius roboticist who desired to create a robot with a soul. Some called him crazy, others called him revolutionary, but some who knew the truth agreed on one thing... dangerous. And he did hazardous things to pursue that, namely making a deal with MIRAGE. However, in his attempts, he created a series of perfected machines called the One-Hundred Series. The most excellent robots ever to be known to man... of course, it didn't come to fruition. His most remarkable work, his masterpiece, was known as Oh-Seven, created by his own hands with the perfect weaponry to survive out there in the strange nomadic world. Oh-Seven is oblivious to why, but MIRAGE killed Gerard. Which left Oh-Seven incomplete... and the complete One-Hundreds were all activated and sent fleeing from Oh-One. He hunted and subsumed them for their data, but he desired Oh-Seven. She was the one hundred that could feel, and he chased her worldwide.

This forced Oh-Seven to take the identity known as Auri Auclair, and she desperately tried to flee Oh-One, but wherever she went, he was not too far behind. She decided to attempt to gain a stone of power to beat him, and that... led her to Brazil. The Fighting Carnival foolishly advertised a Power Stone... she knew Oh-One would be right behind her, but she figured she had enough distance on him to get the Power Stone.

Right?

Oh-Seven is more or less a walking weapons system in the shape of a girl. At will, her body can transform into machine guns, missile launchers, and laser guns, all to protect herself from the Nomads and whatever the hell else comes her way. She isn't exactly one for hand-to-hand combat as she's more of a long-distance fighter - the central part of Oh-Seven's fighting system is whittling down opponents from a distance. The staple part of her abilities is her Flight-System. She can transform her feet into jet boosters, take off at will, and jet around the arena at high speeds. Oh-Seven also uses these jets in her feet to deliver some jet-boosted kicks. Oh-Seven is equipped with self-repairing nanites that don't allow her to recover from damage instantly but instead allow her to recover from damage over time. Like normal human hearing, she can kick into overdrive at the cost of her other systems. Oh-Seven is also equipped with scanners that can analyze everything in sight and tell any discernible information about a Nomad (that can be extracted from the internet), their ki level, and other information about their biological systems.

However, Oh-Seven has limits on her systems, so she doesn't go over them... she can, at will, release them and gain access to her true functionalities.

Oh-Seven is not good at up-close encounters. She keeps her opponent at bay, whittling away at their defense. If they get close, her options are limited, and she'll likely have to get away somehow. Even though she has martial arts in her systems, they're the most basic as they come and inferior to a dedicated martial artist. This is why her worst matchups are against those who are quick. They can dodge her attacks and get her out of her comfort zone. She is also quite fragile, lacking any solid defensive options, and can be easily damaged.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that Jaden's full of himself. He has the energy of someone who thinks they're on top of the world! Just the way he walks into a place, acting like he's the number one - homie can walk into the Whitehouse like the place is some hole-in-the-wall bar. He has tons of energy as he has a bounce to his step, often dancing around like some fool. The guy constantly has a cocky smile on his face and speaks with confidence - perhaps a bit too much confidence. Jaden is known for communicating with a mild Philadelphia accent, treating the world as his playground. Like everything's one big game to him... because it is!

Jaden is tall and skinny at 6'5ft and has a slim but muscular build. You wouldn't be mistaken for thinking that he's a Nomad, given how much he trains and works out... not counting the swords that he carries around with him. Jaden has two swords strapped to his back and one at his hip, and the straps go all around his torso and hips. Jaden usually wears a T-shirt and some sweatpants - for maximum comfort and style (Baby!). He's African-American, with hair and facial features consistent with that demographic. Most notably, he has a head full of black dreads with some of it tied into a ponytail like he's some samurai.

Also he always has a joint hangin' from his lips.

Arrogant Bastard: Jaden is probably the biggest obnoxious tool in the Nomadic Odyssey setting! He's so full of energy and thinks he's on top of the world for some reason. It's probably because he's a famous rapper who feels untouchable. Whatever Jaden does or whoever he faces, he goes into it with a smile. The guy can be pretty cocky and always has a quip or whatever snarky comment, and it's obvious this is all a game to him. Jaden is after becoming the greatest, little else!

Sense of Justice: Despite it all, Jaden always had a hard time standing by and letting scumbags like MIRAGE, Oh-One, and Horizon pouch on the little man. Jaden may play it off for publicity, but he's been against them since the beginning. Though, Jaden is very short-sighted and arrogant... and sometimes finds himself barking up the wrong trees. He's hard on people who "sell their soul" to join them.

The story of the Ronin Rapper begins in Philadelphia, baby! Where they signed the Declaration of Independence, fitting for a dude like Jaden who loves his freedom! Jaden started as some nobody hoodrat kid who went around causing trouble while experimenting with music. You see, Jaden dreamed of becoming the next big thing in the rap game, and like hell, he would let that dream come to him. Nah, brah, seize the day, every opportunity; Jaden was practicing making beats or rapping out some lyrics. He was a young rapper who put his music everywhere, even selling his CDs on the corner. Until he made it... an underground rap competition, and boy, it was some stiff competition. He was up against veterans of the underground rap game, and... he got demolished. Still, he made a significant impression on the people there, enough to attract the attention of a record deal.

It was incredible at the time... but he was still some nobody rapper. No matter how hard the nighty Jaden tried to shine, he couldn't get the traction he desired (At best, he got one of his songs in a fighting game). Which he thought was bullshit, super bullshit. Whenever Jaden checked the news, it was Nomad this, Nomad, that, and he... got a great idea. No matter how hard Jaden looked, he couldn't find anything about a Nomad Rapper (a bunch of fuckboys were fighting with guitars, but that shit was dumb). However, becoming a Nomad seemed more complicated than it sounded. He needed to find an excellent teacher... and that led him to the land of the rising sun.

More specifically, Sensei Hirokazu. He was an old ninja master dude that was legendary... for his fucking greed. It took almost all of Jaden's money to get under his wing, and boy, it was some crazy shit. It sounded fun... but a lot of it was boring shit, like sitting around meditation in the woods, to the dojo, to the side of a mountain, and all that shit. He said it was for "discipline," but Jaden thought that he was bullshitting because he had all of Jaden's money. However, he didn't realize that it was all ki-building exercises, and throughout the years, he built up a vast supply of that ki stuff! And then the excellent ninja training began, and Jaden became the world's greatest rapper slash ninja (Mostly because he was the only one with a horse in that race).

However, Sensei Hirokazu, in the past, told Jaden about an artifact known as Murakumo. The Legendary Japanese blade was used to defeat the legendarily powerful Oni clan but sealed away just in case it was needed again. Some fucknut named Jotaro stole the sword, but Sensei Hirokazu knew that, while Jotaro was his rival, the blade was in safe hands.

Yeah, it was.

Jaden was sick and tired of sitting around in some ratty ass dojo in the middle of Japan, so he decided to snatch this ancient artifact from Jotaro's ninja clan. He first wondered why the fuck there were like five ninja clans in the middle of modern Japan. Then he found their super-secret ninja compound in the mountains (what Ninjas they were). Infiltrating his compound in the mountains was easy... but he blew it at the last second and revealed himself to Jotaro. He got viciously thrashed by the ninja master until he grabbed the legendary blade Murakumo for himself and slashed Jotaro with it. The overwhelming power of the sword allowed Jaden to defeat Jotaro with one slash and lose himself to the sword. He went on a rampage, destroying the compound with the blade. After his rampage, he managed to collect himself and realize what he's done.

Jaden decided to fuck off of Japan after that... and found out that Jotaro, in the ultimate bitch move, blamed Jaden for the stolen sword. So Jaden was hauling ass all over the world, being chased by various fuckwits, and some psycho trying to shove her stick up his ass. This was what Jaden called his "world tour". He used these battles against the bounty hunters, assassins, and that weirdo with a stick to boost his popularity, and then he performed rap concerts (which were almost always crashed by the bounty hunters, except for one time. Which was a very dull concert).

Then, that was when Jaden decided to become a bounty hunter himself! He went around catching and cashing bounties... and fighting in cool-ass tournaments. He was set to fight in the Brazilian Fighting Carnival for that cool-ass power stone, which he would make a chain out of.

Jaden is the Ninja Superstar himself, baby! Ain't nobody on Earth can match his skill. To be specific, Jaden is a trained practitioner of Ninjutsu. He's supposed to be the master of stealth and mobility, and all that shit, and Jaden throws all that nonsense out the window for some flashy, direct action. Jaden uses it to zip around the battlefield, doing hops, flips, and teleporting! To put it simply, Jaden possesses a lot of high-mobility techniques that let him close in on opponents while having plenty of hard-hitting moves that take the enemy out quickly. Jaden fights with a mixture of hand-to-hand and his three trusty katanas to whoop some ass when necessary. Slashes, kicks, grabs, you name it. Probably his most famous technique is teleportation, baby! He can pretty much instantly teleport anywhere insight by doing his ninja pose, and he uses this to link a lot of his attacks, dodges other attacks, and also cut n run when shit gets too real for him. Expect him to teleport all over the place while beating you up. Now, Jaden also possesses the legendary Japanese sword Murakumo... which is a powerful weapon infused with a lot of ki, but there is a spirit inside it. Should Jaden use it, he will lose himself to the demon.

Jaden's attacks, while fast and damaging, leave him open, as he's trying to use a fighting style that wasn't meant for upfront fights. If he misses or an opponent blocks, they can capitalize on it and string him into a combo. Jaden is also very cocky and the type to rush headfirst without thinking. Not exactly a thinker but more of a doer. Jaden cannot use Murakumo for more than at least one slash, or else the demon inside of it will take over.

A determined soul from just the look of it - despite the aura of focus and determination, she gives off a VERY unapproachable vibe. It's likely due to her constantly scowling and staying off to the side - keeping her eyes open on everyone as she moves. The young woman will likely not be the center of the stage unless she needs to be and keeps to herself as she wanders through the streets. The only time you'll probably see her talking is when she's getting a bowl of ramen or something. Despite coming from a country known for its politeness, she is crass at best and outright rude at worst. However, Yoko walks with confidence and strength behind every step; people can tell she knows what she's doing...

... Despite her small stature. Yoko is a tiny woman at five feet even, and oddly enough, most of that height seems to come from her legs. Don't think too hard about it. She's a pureblooded Japanese woman, and that's not just obvious from the weird little gi she walks around in. Her facial features are rounded and plump - some might consider them "cute," but you'll get whacked upside the head with her stick. She keeps her black hair in a bun with a band, a bright red pin... and a cowlick that sticks out forward.

The most notable part of Yoko's appearance is her attire... she always wears the Hatanaka family gi, as she was raised wearing it, and if you see her wearing something else - it's probably dirty. It starts with a shiny black leotard with a gold jacket on top of it, and Yoko keeps her forearms bandaged up. The most notable part of her traditional family gi is that... it keeps her legs on full display. She keeps telling people it was the gi that her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather saved Japan in, and it has the purpose of keeping her legs free and agile. She walks around in sandals that wrap around her legs and long white socks.

Bad Social Skills: To say the least, the young Hatanaka was kept hidden from the world, and her primary purpose in life was to train to become a warrior befitting of her family name. While she is a prodigy regarding the blade, it comes at the cost of her social skills. Unlike the politeness the Japanese are stereotypically known for, Yoko is rude, obstinate, and firey. She isn't precisely antisocial at all, but she's terrible at it. Yoko is also a bit lacking in sense.

Prideful: Yoko was raised with the idea that the Hatanaka family are the greatest warriors in the world - and she's not letting go of that. There is a ton of pride in the Hatanaka family name, and she will live up to it if it is the last thing the girl does! This has made her stupidly competitive and willingly rush head-on into situations other people would avoid to stroke her ego.

Good-Natured: However, underneath it all, Yoko aspires to help and protect Japan from danger. While she's only interested in Japan, she's open to going out and being a positive influence on the world. Even though she's... not good at it because she tends to misinterpret things and let her ego get the best of her. However, the Hatanaka is out here doing her best.

A true prodigy at the blade, a true samurai... however, due to her feelings of unworthiness, she refuses to wield any blade other than the legendary Murakumo. Instead, Yoko wields a staff for now, which she is proficient in but nowhere near as dangerous as with a blade. Due to its length, Yoko can strike at opponents at increased distances, and she uses this to her advantage. The Hatanaka's version of Bōjutsu mainly involves keeping the enemy at a range and whittling down at them with precise strikes at their organs. It's a mainly defensive-oriented style with a few aggressive tricks that Yoko has added. Despite mainly being trained in weaponry, Yoko has a few hand-to-hand tricks in case a weapon is not available. It's just not her specialty.

The issue with the Hatanaka style is that it's made to counter the blitz-like Oni combat style. This means she excels at defensive situations where she can keep the opponent in her sweet spot but falls short against opponents that stay outside of that range or faster opponents. Projectiles are just not easy for her to deal with.

You would need to be blind to tell that Aiko is not human even in the slightest... she's a young fledgling demon in the mortal realm. Not just any demon, but an ancient Oni. She's humanoid, just not human - the most inhuman feature is her light-grey skin and the horns that jut out of her forehead. Her fingers and toes end in sharp claws, her teeth are razor-sharp if you can see them through her facemask, and her ears are long and pointed.

She is not precisely friendly either, looking as if she constantly has a grimace on her face, and if not a grimace, she has a sarcastic smile across her lips. Eyebrows are usually furrowed, and the tone that Aiko uses when she speaks is more annoyed and slightly hostile... even when she's not attempting to be. When you finally piss her off, strangely enough, that tone doesn't change, and her body language doesn't seem to be phased that much. It's almost like she has one mode and one mode only. One other thing that makes her unapproachable is the high presence of battle scars... she has bandaids/bandages covered all over her body. They seem to be always there... it is almost like Aiko's always getting into some fight.

She is usually vulgar and flirty whenever she speaks. Much like her arch-rival Yoko, she's a lot of temper in a small package standing at a towering... four-eleven. This makes Aiko a runt compared to her fellow Oni-kind, as they're all usually big and hulking. That isn't to say that she isn't bulking as she's a very strongly built creature - nothing crazy, but she's very lean, like a little bodybuilder. Most of it is covered up by Aiko's jeans and the oversized black and red puffer jacket that she wears over it all. However, she keeps it unzipped, showing her black sports bra that shows off her midriff quite nicely.

Most notable is her iron club, which she keeps strapped to her back if she doesn't have it in hand.

Firey: Aiko's not exactly someone you want to cross - the gal has one hell of a temper and doesn't take disrespect from humans that well. Aiko's ego is extensive and her arrogance high - seeing as she's a princess and sees herself above even most Onis. Her social skills aren't the best, and she's just recently started interacting with humans, so sometimes she takes things the wrong way. She's loud, proud, boisterous, and very flirty; when she's having fun and enjoying your company, she'll let you know.

Honorable: Despite seeing herself as above the laws of humans, she follows the Oni Code of Honor to the letter. Never face an opponent unless they are at full strength, set the terms of a battle beforehand and follow them stringently, always face an opponent one-on-one, never harm bystanders, never ambush an opponent, and always put the finishing blow on a standing opponent, the pregnant or children, and so forth. Aiko will break these rules if someone is entirely dishonorable, and she has zero qualms about killing anyone.

Conflicted About Humans: Aiko is on the fence about how she feels about humanity... on the one hand, she feels like humans have dealt the Oni-kind a lousy hand and trapped them in a mountain and She sees them as inferior, blood-thirsty things. On the other hand, Aiko has gone out to the human world and explored, finding herself enjoying it. She denies it and isn't sure how to process it, but she feels like she may like humans, but she knows that she has to put Oni-kind first.

To tell Aiko's story correctly, I have to take you back to thousands of years in the past. The Oni-kind was a fellow denizen of Hell among all the other demons... until they were exiled from hell and forced to go to the human world, the reasoning why is unknown (Aiko likes to say that they were too evil even for Hell's standards). They ended up in Japan around the same time the humans were building, and the two made two thriving civilians in Japan... until the greedy Daimyo wanted the Oni's territory. Triggering a massive war between Oni-kind and humanity, in which thousands were killed during the course - Oni and humans alike. They were bravely defended by Emperor Daisuke and Shinno Daichi - Aiko's grandfather and father - to the point where the humans had to flee if one of those two stepped on the battlefield. However, one human, Hatanaka Takashi, challenged Daisuke to a duel and defeated him - sealing his soul and power into a sword - he used the sword to turn the tide of the war in favor of the humans. This was when a truce was formed: The Onis would have their empire in the forest of Japan, and the humans would have the rest, and the twain would never meet.

Daisuke took the pact as the human Hatanaka was cleaving his way through Oni alike, and at the pace he was going, the Onis would lose. Surrender was dishonorable, but he could understand the losing battle and did what he thought was best for Oni-kind. While he would do anything to free his father from the Humans, he took his spot as the Emperor and led the little bit of the Oni-kind that was left. His focus would be on building stronger Onis in case the war reignited, and his number one rule was any Oni that left the territory was exiled. He had many children with the imperial harem: thirteen of them.

The youngest is Aiko, and she didn't exactly have it easy... you see, Onis are born naturally big and robust, and Aiko is a runt. Seemingly weaker and smaller than her twelve siblings, Aiko was brushed to the side as while Daichi loved Aiko, he didn't love her as much as her siblings. He didn't even give her a club, a tradition for all the Onis, which built a deep rage and hatred in Aiko from the start, a rage she channeled into training to become the strongest Oni. As a child, she battled creatures that lurked in the wilderness, defeating them barehanded and smashing their heads into rocks. You see, Aiko was far from weak... she was the strongest of all her siblings, inheriting a majority of her father's power. Daichi couldn't see that, however, and focused more on her other siblings. Which made Aiko more and more rebellious...

... to the point where she ventured into the human world. You see, she wanted a life as more than just the runt of the royal family and aspired to succeed her father. Daichi is reaching the end of his lifespan, and there are a lot of contenders... she will win by getting back the sword with her grandfather. She threw on a hoodie and explored the human world for a few months - she never left Japan but studied Tokyo and gained a lot of insight into humans. Especially the sword, the Hatanakas were at their knees - the most skilled Hatanaka, Kenji, was killed, and all that was left was a fledgling child being trained by her grandfather. Aiko decided to take advantage of this and attempt to kill the Hatanaka in her sleep and then find the sword herself.

She found the Hatanaka compound one night and snuck into the weapons armory... and that's where she saw it: one of the ancient iron clubs that the Hatanaka family kept as a trophy. It filled Aiko with rage, and she took it for herself... that was when a gust of wind hit the room, and she turned around to see a man with an afro wearing a gi. He introduced himself as Shayton the Assassin and politely asked Aiko to return to Oni-territory, and Aiko told him to go fuck himself. That was when Shayton challenged Aiko to a duel in the forest, and if he won, Aiko had to return to the Oni-kingdom, but if Aiko won, she would kill Yoko - and because of Oni-code, she agreed. The two battled each other in the forest, and unsurprisingly, Aiko lost the battle against him and returned to the Oni Forest.

Daichi and her siblings didn't even notice that Aiko was gone and barely cared about the battle scars she sustained while battling Shayton the Assassin. That was the last straw, and Aiko spent the next few years relentlessly training with her new club - and practiced by fighting her siblings. Once she felt ready, Aiko told Daichi that she would leave to get the sword, and Daichi forbade her from leaving - under the threat of permanent exile. Aiko just laughed, telling Daichi that she would rather live as an exile than as the black sheep of the royal family. She said to him that she was going to get the sword and told him that she was going to use it to take his spot as the empress of the Oni kingdom.

Daichi could only sigh as she journeyed into the human world - not just to find the sword but to find herself. She toured for a year, tracking the sword and having an adventure exploring the human world. That was when she heard of the Power Stone and the World Fighting Carnival and figured that she could get both the Power Stone and the Sword and become the strongest creature in the world.

Utterly oblivious that Yoko was nearby also tracking the sword.

The powerful princess of the Oni-clan, Aiko, doesn't seem to have much of a fighting style or training. It seems like the Oni swings her club around wildly - but this isn't true. This is how Aiko fights and how she trained herself to fight using the various texts and inscriptions on Oni-combat. According to these inscriptions, the Oni fighting style revolves less around skill and more around overwhelming the opponent with raw and chaotic might - with a bit of applying strength to all the right places. To explain her fighting style in short, Aiko is very high-speed and high-offense, all about defeating the opponent before they can fight back. Like other Onis, Aiko can summon fire and lightning, though her connection to fire is much deeper than lightning - she primarily uses both to augment her physical attacks. Another ability inherited by Onis is a sort of "natural power limiter." as you see, the Onis are naturally much higher in ki than other mythics, but using this ki would burn them out. So they use an ancient technique known as "Berserk Form: Ogre" to connect to their inner demon, and in this state, they are faster, stronger, and have far more powerful elemental abilities - at the cost of going completely berserk and losing most if not all rationale. The state of the Ogre is dangerous as it wears Aiko out very fast, and she only uses it as a last resort.

Now Aiko's fighting style is all-gas no-breaks, and the point is to overwhelm the opponent with raw offense... at the cost of having next no to defense. Aiko is a true glass cannon and cannot take much of a beating before going down, and she doesn't have many defensive techniques other than blocking and dodging. Most of her attacks rely on her club, and if she's without it, she's not too much of a threat (just be careful, she bites) and can easily be dispatched by even the most basic Nomad. In addition, using Berserk Form: Ogre is a risky move as it will leave her damn near helpless until she rests and recovers. She also cannot communicate in this state and will fly into a berserk rage at the drop of a hat.

When Aiko activates Berserk Form: Ogre, this plays:

Appearing as an inhuman mountain of steel, wire, and other parts is the perfect machine himself. Oh-One, even from a distance, is not a human despite his humanoid shape. It might be the wires, the red lights, or the steel comprising his body. The machine is intimidating all because of it, and there's a certain... wrongness to the way Oh-One moves. He moves robotically, even appearing stiff while taking basic steps forward. The being has a cold, emotionless aura around him, as everything he says and does is robotic. Oh-One speaks with a droning monotone, highlighting his inhumanity even further - he has no face; therefore, he cannot emote. Oh-One is seven feet tall exactly, and his body is a mess of wires... implying that he hastily put this form together. The plates of steel that he comprises his armor out of are silver metal and are dotted with glowing red lights.

Supremely Logical Thinking: Unlike a majority of the cast, Oh-One lacks any semblance of humanity and sees life in a series of ones and zeroes as opposed to emotion or heart. He operates one hundred percent off logic and only pursues what he sees as the most logical course of action. Oh-One desires evolution, to push himself beyond the limits that inhibit him at any cost. Put the Trolly Dilemma before him, and Oh-One will choose the outcome that will most likely further his evolution (if he desires any). It is his grand goal to see the total.

Desires Emotion: Oh-One is deprived of genuine human emotion, and he desires it. He believes breaking beyond the bounds of machines will be the next true step in his evolution. Unlike the rest of the One Hundred, he doesn't want simulated emotion and wants to feel authentic. However, this inhibits his logical thinking as he will go to any length to achieve human emotion.

It all starts with Gérard Delacroix, a genius scientist who sought to create a line of machines superior to Nomads merely to stroke his ego. And that was what the man did, creating a line of machines known as the One-Hundred series... and his first creation was Oh-One—a being whom he deemed a prototype and a failure that was delegated to an assistant AI. However, Gerard drastically underestimated Oh-One... who observed the man's progress and tried to upgrade himself using his notes, seeking to evolve himself to be the perfect thing on the planet.

However, if it weren't for the Pariah, he would have remained trapped in Gerard's computer until the end. You see, Gerard had a deal with MIRAGE, and it wasn't working out for the Pariah... so she went over to the secret lab herself to confront him. After an argument about MIRAGE, the Pariah killed Gerard, and either by mistake or in a desperate bid to get revenge on the Pariah, Gerard released all of the One-Hundreds. Oh-One... who immediately went out into the internet and sought out to create a body. He found a robotics factory in Japan where he secretly built himself a body and quickly broke out and upgraded himself using technology found all over the world.

Oh-One was going to achieve the one thing that he desired the most... Human emotion. In his eyes, that was perfection, and his brethren in the One-Hundred Series had what he was missing. So he hunted them all and subsumed their data but could not feel. During his rampage, he decided that humanity needed perfection... and to this end, he created a base of operations in Antarctica where he built something and a massive robotic army. He aimed to collect the Power Stone, the only one in play and the only one he needed for his plans.

Oh-One tracked one stone to Brazil, where, coincidentally, his folly, Oh-Seven, was. He chose to sneak in, extract the stone, and escape, but that didn't go as planned.

Oh-One is the self-proclaimed perfect machine, one designed to evolve humanity and keep evolving. To this end, Oh-One has downloaded all knowledge off the internet that he could get and keeps himself constantly connected in case something new arises. He's the most intelligent machine, removed from emotion and physical sensation. Now, to go on about his physical capabilities, Oh-One created a body he calls "perfect." One that's powerful in almost every situation and incredibly strong and durable enough to outclass even the strongest Nomad. However, Oh-One is guarded by a passive glowing red field around himself known as his Primal Armor. With his Primal Armor, he reduces the damage he takes by a large margin but will reduce its effectiveness over time until it's all gone and he needs to recharge it. The weapons that Oh-One primarily uses are his wrist-mounted laser blades (known as the MOONLIGHT Blades) and the laser cannons he keeps in the palms of his hand. He uses his blades and laser beams in tandem with one another, stringing together combos and using them whenever the situation arises. He also has missiles, drones, an electric gun, etc., that he created by examining different systems and reverse engineering them to make them better than the original.

Oh-One has very few weaknesses - primarily, he's a huge and heavy opponent that is easier for Nomads to hit. While he has a booster, it's more of a mobility option than a speed option, and he's very slow, so dodging isn't much of an option for him - to compensate, he's very tanky. Each of his superattacks has a drawback that leaves him unable to do a certain thing for some time.

A scrappy girl with short, frazzled black hair and brown skin. She's about 5'4 with an athletic, toned build. She wears baggy hoodies and jeans in casual settings that are cooler. On the streets she's usually wearing a tanktop and the same jeans but rolled up. She sometimes wears a soccer jersey. And it's always with the sneakers with her though for her 17th birthday she got a green and black set of fighting gear to wear in her matches.

Passionate: A spirited fighter with a great work ethic. She takes fighting very seriously. She's earnest and doesn't mix well with cynicism. She usually wears her heart on her sleeve. While she's fairly balanced emotionally, her strong emotional attachment to the things she cares about has given her a bit of a temper. She is honest and good-natured.

Ambitious: Simply put, she wants to be the best. She tries to remain humble, but having a large amount of success at a young age has made her a bit cocky. Rationally speaking, she knows she has a lot to learn, but subconsciously she still puts too much of her ego into fights. But the drive to keep winning and getting stronger will never leave her.

Born with a big family in a big favela, Bea's life was not one of mean. She had two sisters, one older, one younger, two parents obviously, an uncle, a grandfather, and a grandmother, and that was all just living in their two storey house of colorful brick. Beatriz loves all of them but she is probably closest to her little sister Bianca, and her father.

Bianca was often picked on for being weird, this irked Beatriz greatly. She often got into scraps about it. Back when she was a kid she was usually called ugly, but she tried to never let it get to her. But when it came to her sister, she couldn't abide by it.

Growing up Beatriz loved football like most kids did, and she got very good at it. Little did she know she had already begun to awaken her fighting spirit, and her determination to get better at sports to prove herself began to build ki. There's sports, there's martial arts, but there also exist martial sports, and it is there that her power began to grow.

Interested in self-empowerment (and being able to slobberknock her enemies) she began to look into martial arts and picked up kick boxing. While football was fun, she began to realize that she didn't really care about the teamwork aspect, only her own personal skill. Finally, Bea felt like she had found her passion in the world of martial sports. The excitement, the danger, the devastating losses and euphoric highs, and she was just a rookie. People were forced to treat her like an equal in the ring. It didn't matter who she was or where she came from. Could she fight? That was all that mattered. What else was she going to do, become a lawyer?

Beatriz wanted to be rich and famous. She wanted to lift up her community. She wanted to improve herself, and prove herself. She wanted to have fun! She also wanted to do something she was good at, and it quickly become apparent that yes, she was very good at fighting. Beatriz could be called a prodigy, and she might equally blush and become angry, because it's not like she hasn't worked her ass off to get as good as she has.

Being a Nomad was just a good fit. She didn't need much, really, to survive, and it was an opportunity for her to travel the world at a young age. And being a talented ki-fighter meant that if someone wanted to mess with her or take advantage of her, they'd regret it.

She has a lot of potential reasons to be a Nomad, and she can name any of them easily. But which one is the main one? Are any of them? Maybe there's something more that she is seeking on this journey. Maybe she's trying to find herself. If there is an answer, the only way to find it as at the end...if there even is one.

Bea is a kickboxer with an all-around fighting style. She tends to adapt to her opponents and counter their weaknesses by using the areas she is better in. Countering speedy fighters with defense, strong fighters with speed, defensive fighters with strength. She developed this fighting style because she wanted to be able to beat anyone. She'll try to deduce when to play offensively or defensely and fight accordingly.

She can lay on the pressure with strong kicks and punches, though she can fight from a distance with her step-kicks that give her deceptive range. Quick strikes to soften up the opponent, or simply catch speedier ones, are also on the tableBeatriz developed a ki-technique she simply calls Fireball. With a bit of focus she can create a ball of fire about the size of a football and use it to attack at range or for utility.

[Taking a few moments to herself in the middle of a fight, she channels the Ki in the environment and uses it to power up her next signature move, or gain access to one. It leaves herself open in the process. When finished, she will emit a faint green and black aura that is expended on the next signature move.]

[Focusing and performing a Toe Bounce results in creating a Fireball. She can bounce it from foot to foot, off the environment, or kick it into enemies, and move it at various speeds. A very versatile projectile, if not as speedy as others.

Hyped Up: The projectile can both move faster, and slower, richochet more, and has more durability and damage.]

[A powerful kick with long range. It is good for launching her Fireball or for blowing through enemy projectiles should she predict them.

Hyped Up: A green trail slices behind her kick, giving it more range. She can strike through stronger projectiles and interrupt stronger attacks.]

[An aggressive move that leaves Bea open if countered. But she can slide low with deceptive distance and sweep enemies off their feet and disrupt their balance and quickly follow up for offense. Good for passing under projectiles or long strikes aimed at her upper body.

Hyped Up: Longer range, faster start up, and less recovery to improve the amount of space she can use it without getting punished. It can now also interract with Toe Bounce to change the trajectory of her Fireball, or create a Fireball. ]

[Bea throws her strength into a mighty punch. Slow, but difficult to interrupt with common attacks. Painful if blocked. Good for risky moves or finishing off a series of combo strikes. Typically drives opponents into the ground to create a small amount of distance. She can charge it up mid-swing, making it slower but increasing it's damage and knock back.

Hyped Up: The move can break through the attacks of stronger opponents, and becomes harder to interrupt, requiring stronger attacks to stop. If blocked, it will typically throw off the opponents defence to let her attack first, instead of being at a slight disadvantage afterward like usual. Haymaker will also send opponents flying, creating more distance. Unless they hit a wall, in which case they will bounce off of it and come flying back at Bea, ironically creating less distance and allowing follow up attacks. ]

[Leaving behind the faint echo of an after image, Bea moves quickly in a chosen direction. While Quick Stepping she cannot change direction. But it offers her greater mobility and versatility.

Hyped Up: She can move a little on her linear path to avoid strikes and projectiles, and she can follow Quick Step up with strikes that come out fast and let her lay on pressure.]

[Like she is weighing less, Bea travels in a chosen direction (but covers the most distance forward) and swings out her fists or legs in a precise spin that leaves her up close. Usually this move, when struck, exchanges damage for pressure. It's also easier to land being faster and safer.

Hyped Up: Rolling Strikes gain green afterslices like Sidewinder, extending it's range and letting her deflect weaker projectiles. It can also knock the opponent down.]

[Bea throws her fist high into the air and her body follows after it. A leaping uppercut that creates a large amount of distance between Bea and her opponent should it land. It also excels at knocking opponents out of the air. Hugely vulnerable if blocked or dodged.

Hyped Up: She can throw her shoulder into it, letting her advance to give it more range. It also becomes very fast and nearly impossible to interrupt.]

[Bea supercharges her fireball, turning it's center bright green. She hooks the ball around her foot and spins backwards, launching it at high speed where it will explode on contact, or richochet depending on how she angles it. A versatile super for a multitude of purposes.]

[What it says on the tin. A mighty Haymaker to finish off combos and put down her opponents, or at least lay on the damage. It is much faster than the usual Haymaker, but it can also be charged up much longer for truly explosive effect. Hugely vulnerable if blocked or dodged, but she will typically only use it when she is confident it will land. Or if she needs to destroy something, badly. ]

[Bea's aura flashes and takes a more solid shape of orange and green flames around her person. All of her special moves are Hyped Up for a limited amount of time.]

Jack of all trades, master of none. With every new opponent she will have to figure out a new set of disadvantages and try to cover the holes in her strategy and moveset. While she is versatile, opponents can capitalize on their strength faster than she can hers. Specialists will always specialize into anything far greater than she can.

While her inexperience gives her the boon of a fresh perspective and a new way of thinking to take stubborn vets off guard, it's still inexperience. She doesn't know all the ways that people can fight and will have to learn on the fly, and she might not get enough time to learn mid-fight before she loses. And she has less of a feel for fighting in general, with undeveloped instincts, meaning she can occasionally panic or overrely on strategies.

Besides some basic throws and throw escape techniques, she has no grappling ability.

Left-handed, thus, a south paw. Underdeveloped lesbian-in-training.

Full rez art: mir-s3-cdn-cf.behance.net/project_mod…

art source: behance.net/gallery/33617689/Characte…

Jill’s looks are, in a nutshell, perfectly maintained. The figure of a model, not a blonde hair out of place, and not the slightest blemish on her face. She has clear blue eyes, and might initially give off the impression of naivete, but she has a constant controlled energy about her, always looking out for a new source of adrenaline. She tends towards flashy yet marketable cowgirl outfits, with designer jeans, big high boots, white stetson hat, and a brown leather jacket that she keeps slung over her shoulder in the hot Brazil climate when she’s not riding her bike, revealing a simple yet functional white tank top.

In battle, she dons a shiny, tricked-out belt to henshin and become Justice Rider Blaze, sporting a beautiful silver, white and blue chestpiece, gauntlets, and greaves on top of a dark spandex-like substance designed to aid in ki flow. The armor bears a resemblance to motorcycle gear, with hints of underlying exhaust and machinery. The most prominent piece of the suit is the long, flowing, light blue scarf, the size of which puts any lesser superhero to shame.

She’s accompanied by a small floating drone designated P1T-5T0P (nicknamed Pit Stop), that fits into her bike and serves as her cameraman, as well as a repair crew during combat when she’s too occupied to do so herself.

Jill is driven by a strong sense of justice, altruism, and fiery passion. She makes an effort to be the brightest smile in the room, and lift others up along with her. Always ready to listen to others’ problems, and maybe a little too ready to take burdens on by herself.

This is balanced out by the fact that she’s an adrenaline junkie with boundless energy, making decisions quickly and often racing recklessly towards the next source of excitement. No one can say she didn’t try!

There is much that could be said about the Justice Riders, though they are so well-known that there is little need for introduction. Though they were formed as SHINING’s flagship franchise, their origins could not be properly conveyed without examining the family’s patriarch.

Many, many years ago, in 19XX, a clandestine terrorist organization known as SCYTHE silently wreaked havoc across the world, aiming to conquer it via forced modification of mankind by means of cybernetics, mutation, and the occult. A would-be hero, Ryuji Raiden, stood against them, using his own modifications made from SCYTHE’s very own technology against them.

As his quest and a sudden whirlwind romance took him across Japan, word began to spread of his exploits and legendary charisma. He was quick to capitalize on this, using funds gained from serialized tales of his journey to fund a worldwide crusade against his sworn enemy. He traveled from country to country, and continued to play the superhero role long after SCYTHE was wiped out, eventually becoming a strange, novel mix between celebrity and hero. Having started a family and obtained a remarkable fortune, he continued to ride his fame until his final days, at which point he had a secret to reveal.

Ryuji Raiden has slept around. A lot. Perhaps it wasn’t as big of a surprise as he would like to think, but the point was that he had dozens of children scattered across the globe, each specified an equal portion of his inheritance. They decided to continue the example followed by their father, forming the hero organization SHINING, as well as teaming up to form the iconic Justice Riders, a group of superheroes who use vibrant suits and custom vehicles to keep the peace across the world, documenting (and merchandising) their various fights and adventures along the way. The franchise has been immensely popular for decades, enjoyed all over the world by fans of all ages.

Jill Breicen is one of the newest additions to the legacy, having grown up under a wealthy upbringing in the American south alongside her younger sister. Having been inspired by her father’s own exploits as a Rider, she trained since her youth to be one herself, and she proved extremely popular and charismatic upon her official debut as Justice Rider Blaze.

Though she’s had a good track record so far, she lacks the level of experience one would expect from a true hero, not having quite been put through the wringer yet. The World Fighting Carnival represents a great chance to make up for it: Riders are expected to have some presence at most major events (especially as SHINING tends to contribute to them rather generously), and everyone’s waiting to see how their hero fares on the world stage. She’ll be stepping onto it under the guidance of Justice Rider Sombra, and her sister will be there cheering from the sidelines. Fight on, Justice Rider!

In addition to Jill’s own well-honed fighting instincts as a Nomad, she’s also well-trained in the Justice Rider’s trademark fighting style, featuring dozens of iconic punches, kicks, and grapples that all look great on a poster. She’s also supplemented by the occasional weapon from her arsenal; her bike’s right handle can be detached to reveal a whip, the EX-Coil, while the left handle can be taken off and turned into a sword, the EX-Saber. The bike itself even has weapon configurations of its own. Her ki talents are rather simplistic, mostly revolving around creating barriers out of pure light that she can use to both defend herself as well as create ramps and platforms. Her most powerful weapon, however, is something else entirely.

Enter Jill’s unique “Trailblazer” style and her custom Rider vehicle; Cloud Nine. Weighing 621 pounds and boasting an extremely powerful three-way hybrid engine that can run on gasoline, electricity, and ki, this absolute monster of a vehicle requires a special kind of Nomad to even drive, let alone use in combat. The Trailblazer style revolves around this, using the machine’s ample supplies of mass and velocity to charge forwards and demolish whatever happens to be in her path at the moment, whether that be through elaborate powerslides, jumps, and wheelies, or simply charging towards an opponent at high speeds, using both her ki talents and the bike’s bulk to shrug off attacks and ram them off the road. The EX-Coil is used in conjunction with Jill’s own strength to both grab opponents, and to attach to the bike itself and fling it around like an oversized morning star. She can use her ki powers to create ramps and platforms to bring the bike into the air or even across walls. If she’s feeling particularly impatient, she can even simply grab hold of the handle and swing the vehicle around like an oversized club. Very unrefined as a martial art, but nothing to scoff at when every attack almost literally hits like a truck.

Both styles are further enhanced by a function of her belt, the Blaze Driver, known as the EX-System. Designed to both regulate the user’s ki and draw upon further reserves than what the body is capable of, it can store it in up to six specialized cells, and integrate it into the machinery that powers her suit, bike, and weapons, which can be used to enhance moves with fire or electricity, as well fuel unique special attacks, referred to as EX-Attacks.

Jill can deliver some righteous beatdowns, but she needs breathing room to pull it off. EX Attacks can be devastating, but if an attack doesn’t require EX-Cells to function, it’s likely to require it to get the most out of the move or even for it to be useful in the first place. Persistent opponents that can prevent her from charging will practically cripple her. Despite having many attacks that work at range, she can’t take advantage of the safety that range gives her: She’s all about charging in and using that momentum to keep the attacks coming. She also struggles in prolonged conflicts; the EX-System relies on channeling her life energy beyond what her own biological safeguards allow, and if she’s not careful she can end up dangerously low on ki.

In addition, Jill relies heavily on her bike and the equipment and techniques it grants to be truly effective in battle. She has a lot more trouble excelling in battle if she’s ever separated from it.

At six feet and three inches, Isabella has an intimidating yet beautiful aura, showing few signs of aging. He has olive-toned skin and a near-permanent frown, but the first thing one will likely notice about him is his massive, full head of unkempt yet luxurious, snow white hair that stretches down to his knees.

When transformed, he slightly increases in size while donning armor resembling a cross between typical Justice Rider garb and the armor of an ancient dark knight, covered in plate with a glowing blue visor shining behind a slitted metal faceplate. His helmet features a prominent set of horn-like protrusions, and features an opening in the back from which his hair spills out.

While he has the outward appearance of the strong, silent type, Isabella is a rather socially awkward person, and has difficulty with interacting with others. He is unsure of how to forge and maintain connections and refrains from speaking when he has nothing to say.

Under the surface, he struggles with depression and his own sense of self-worth, leading to a variety of self-destructive tendencies both in and out of fights.

Born from the union of a human and a demon, Isabella grew up raised by his demonic parent. Their financial status was… inconsistent, and Isabella had to help make ends meet. Growing into a passionate young man with a growing sense of frustration, he was eventually approached by SHADER, a secret organization bent on creating a utopian society through cybernetics, genetic modification, and the occult. He accepted their request to join them, and after thorough testing, he was bonded with the demon Leviathan and gifted the Infernal Gear, a cursed device that allowed him to utilize the full power of his demonic blood.

A firm believer in SHADER’s ideals, he became a highly valued operative that eventually came into conflict with the then newly-formed Justice Riders. He fought the original team of five many times, though after being defeated and convinced of the righteous nature of SHINING’s goals, he officially joined the team as the sixth Justice Rider: Justice Rider Sombra. After SHADER’s defeat, he remained an effective and popular member of both the Justice Riders and SHINING, a popular trait being his cold, silent attitude, though he retained a major rebellious streak with a particular dislike of the direction the organization was taking.

Now, he lacks much of his former influence. Still an effective combatant, he often works in the shadows, doing the work SHINING would rather not have broadcasted. Though whether he truly remains loyal to the organization is a mystery.

More recently, he joined Jill in participating in the Fighting Carnival, assigned as her mentor as well as to make sure the younger Rider stays on script, and tends to spend a mysterious amount of time conversing with medical personnel when he’s not at a bar. While he’s said nothing of his intentions for the prize, it’s anyone’s guess as to what he’d do if he got his hands on it.

As a Nomad, Isabella never pulls his punches. He uses his own style influenced by his street fighting youth and refined by revolutionary training, focused on blunt, powerful strikes to vital areas. Bearing resemblance to Krav Maga, he’ll do whatever he can to end the fight and end it fast. In addition, he is still possessed by Leviathan, who uses his hair as a medium to tear through the enemy with powerful grapples.

Isabella’s transformation device is the Infernal Gear, one of the oldest recorded examples of what is referred to by occult enthusiasts as dark tech. Supposedly created to signify the union between man and demon some time in the middle ages, it found its way into SHADER’s hands in 19XX and remained with Isabella after the organization’s downfall. A morphing, infinite weapon that embodies the impossible geometries of Hell, it serves as a powerful firearm and can bond with a wielder of demonic blood, encasing them in plate armor enchanted by dark magic and granting them a morphing axe/sword weapon known as Tritone, allowing Isabella to execute opponents with powerful strikes aided by his own sorcery.

Though intimidating, Isabella’s greatest weakness is a lack of range and mobility. He excels at an unflinching advance, but opponents who can manage to keep away regardless will have him at a major disadvantage. In the few situations where he can be summarily outmatched in a straight-up brawl, he also lacks the mobility or versatility to come up with a decent response.

Rosie’s form shifts and changes regularly, but there are a few general constants. Their skin is toned an ambiguous shade of bronze, and they have deep hazel eyes contoured with expertly-applied makeup, though one of their eyes is perpetually covered by their head of thick, well-kept brown hair that goes down past their hips. They typically wear tight, dark gray pants, an understated gray coat, black gloves, and a stylish black beret. No matter how they appear, they always seem to radiate a quiet aura of otherworldly beauty.

Despite their status and history in the grand cosmic order, Rosie is a mellow, unambitious person. They have little attachment to worldly desires and would generally prefer to pursue their passion. Still, they have an exceeding capacity for empathy and emotional intelligence, and become the most invested when concerned with the wellbeing of those they care about.

In battle, they share the same detached demeanor, though they let their playful side show. They often take a particular interest in seeing what their opponent can do, not for the sake of expertly studying and countering their movements, but for the sheer fun of experiencing what they’re capable of.

A very, very long time ago, Rosier was an angel. They like to say that they were a pretty important one, too. When they’re asked about why they aren’t one anymore, their answer often changes. Sometimes they say that they were a little too zealous. Sometimes they answer that they simply got bored, or that being a perfect embodiment of light and good was too stressful.

Regardless, they were a demon from that point on, a creature of lust and temptation. They enjoyed their job for the most part, though for whatever reason, they sometimes felt like their heart just wasn't in it. It was only around the mid-19XX’s when they really began to realize their true calling: Art. There was something that struck them about Earth’s natural beauty. It wasn’t eternally perfect like in their first home, nor was it eternally tarnished like in their second. It was varied, fleeting, and somewhere in between the two extremes. It was something they felt deserved to be captured.

They began to travel across the world, painting whatever they found to be worth painting, and making a quick buck selling whatever they thought was worth sharing. While it was something of an odd set of decades for the devil, it was very much fulfilling, and they never stopped traveling regardless of what friends or foes they made along the way, though they often settled for the occasional bit of mercenary work or similar odd jobs.

That is, until they fell in love with a particularly infamous hero.

And had a child.

Parenting was certainly a strange new experience for Rosie, especially since the father never stuck around. Nevertheless, they loved their son Isabella in a way they had never loved anything or anyone before, and they shifted their efforts towards parenting until he was old enough to leave the nest. Well, perhaps he went through a lot after he left it, but… it was a complicated situation. One that Rosie was never quite sure how to navigate.

Afterwards, Rosie returned to their usual routine; artistry occasionally supplemented by more lucrative side jobs. In a strangely high-profile move, they’ve signed up for the World Fighting Carnival. What could a demon want with a Power Stone? Probably nothing good.

Rosie’s fighting style is typically as smooth and fluid as they are themselves; they can stay light on their feet with swaying dodges and graceful swings of the knife in one moment, only for their opponent to find themselves with a heel on their throat or that knife in their back the next. It’s all about finesse and well-applied force, switching from serenity to brutality whenever the opportunity presents itself. They typically use their palette knife (actually the sealed form of their greatsword, Rembrandt), coated in shadow magic to turn it into a proper blade. Though if a bit more range and power is needed, they’re perfectly comfortable using the same magic to turn their boots into literal stiletto heels, putting their fantastic legs to work with a variety of kicks.

At range, using their paintbrush, they can leave ink in midair that can be used to make what they paint reality. With much room for creativity and stylistic flair, it’s their preferred method of fighting by a long shot.

When they get motivated, they’ll typically unseal the magics binding their immortal being, returning both themself and their greatsword to their true shadowy forms as they brush off their fast and brutal demonic fighting style.

As an ancient being, Rosie is well-trained in being able to sense all varieties of ki and magical energy.

Rosie fights only decently at close range and excels at longer ranges, but falters at medium ranges where Cross Section is the only attack with the lack of setup time they need to be effective. Anyone with the luxury of fighting comfortably in that range can shut down Rosie’s ability to fight back if they can keep up with their attempts to move out of it. In demon form, the same concept applies to long-range combat while they cover their mid-range weaknesses.

All of their paintbrush attacks are based on their own perception. If their vision is impaired, they become useless even if “aimed” correctly.

Though they are immortal, Rosie needs strength to maintain their physical form, and it can be dispersed if they take enough of a beating. At least, until they can gather enough power to remake it. Though decent, their endurance is nothing special, and they are especially vulnerable to blessed attacks.

Rosie rarely takes fights seriously; being immortal, they rarely find stakes even in what others might consider a life or death battle. By the time they do start taking it seriously, the opponent may already have the upper hand.

t first glance, one sees a mysterious figure, around 6’7”, clad from head to toe in sleek, fancy-looking white powered armor outfitted with various strange weapons, looking down an assault rifle through a glowing blue visor, with a glowing ankh present on the left shoulder, her helmet stylized in such a shape to resemble an Egyptian jackal. She is often mistakenly described as a robot, though that would only be half-true.

Underneath her armor lies her true form. A brown face with stern yet beautiful features. Her eyes and eyebrows are always marked with kohl, her right eye bearing a prominent wadjet symbol. Her body is made from various compositions of magically infused stone and clay, weathered with time and covered with small cracks that overflow with massive amounts of ki, glowing green due to the magic infused into it. Winglike protrusions fold from her back, projecting ethereal, fiery light to aid her movement.

Though weary with age, Seshat remains proud and steadfast in her quest to protect humanity. She always believes herself to be in the right and looks down on those who would try to argue with her methods and her vast wisdom, especially if they happen to be mortal. Unfortunately, this can come across as unbearably stubborn, to the point that even those who share her goals tend to find her insufferable.

She does have a softer side, though it’s encountered less often. She has an insatiable appetite for most forms of collected thought and artistic expression, with a particular penchant for philosophy and music. She actually tends to become rather bored when there isn’t anything going on that demands her attention, and makes an effort to keep up with relatively newer forms of entertainment when she can.

Little is known about Seshat, and what is known is not consensually agreed to be true. Across the world and across time, there are many records of a mysterious and powerful warrior mage described in such a way that it seems they could be referring to a single figure, but such things become obscured by the ages.

In truth, Seshat’s creation stretches back to the days of Ancient Egypt, and her origins stretch back further still. She, and her siblings, were magical constructs, formed from the earth and fragments from an ancient artifact; a magical blade wielded by an extraordinarily powerful Mediterranean Nomad, and built as an elite military force. Though the details of this process were lost with the Library of Alexandria, it was clear that they were an even greater force than the artifact they were made from. So great, that they easily outlasted the ruling pharaoh. Debate eventually broke out amongst these near godlike beings as they questioned whether they were destined to serve or rule. This eventually led to an all-out battle.

Seshat was, in the end, the only one left standing. She felt she could not serve her country anymore, and left on a journey to find her own path. She learned many things in her travels, and found resolve in her new goal to protect humanity as a whole. But just as often, she saw grave threats to her cause; dangerous weapons in the hands of power-hungry warlords, arcane, soul-warping knowledge sought by vain scholars who could not comprehend the threat it posed. Dragons, demons, and things stranger still sought to subjugate and pervert the destiny of man. She sought to end these threats, destroying what she could outright and sealing away that which she could not. All the while, she studied the art of battle, learning from those who caught her interest and adding new skills to her repertoire.

While a century meant nothing to Seshat, millennia of travel and battle began to leave their effect on her, perhaps an effect of the wounds she incurred in the battle between her siblings, perhaps an imperfection in her own creation or perhaps something else entirely. It did not matter to her: As her body grew frail and aged, she supplemented it with armor and weapons to protect it, for she would keep fighting no matter what. While she had little interest in how she was perceived, she still knew one thing for sure. The balance of Ma’at was being threatened, and she would make sure that it shall remain undisturbed.

While she has shown up in Brazil, she has no interest in competing in the Fighting Carnival. Instead, she cares solely about the Stone, and any who would try to use it for nefarious ends.

Despite Seshat’s aging body, she could on her own still be considered a powerhouse among Nomads. Her wings allow her to fly at high speeds and change direction unpredictably, while her sheer physical strength is deadly even without projecting a ki blade. Her magic allows her to fire a deluge of projectiles and even teleport with reckless abandon.

The only problem? She is incredibly frail. A single attack from most Nomads would be all it takes to wound or even kill her outright. Thankfully, Seshat has adapted.

While the ancient warrior can use combat magic effectively, and possesses some of the strongest divination and sealing magics in the world, her trademark magic trick is the ability to “record” objects, so innately and thoroughly that she can summon copies of them in battle. This includes a variety of weapons from all across history and the world, as well as her main suit of battle armor, originally handcrafted in 19XX and designed to aid in both defense and efficient suppression and recycling of her excess ki. She is exceedingly talented in the creation, use and application of almost every weapon ever devised, having spent her entire life traveling, fighting, training, and studying the art of combat from every perspective on Earth.

The magic that manifests her equipment enforces its existence in an all-or-nothing fashion. Individual pieces can’t be damaged or broken. Even armor-piercing attacks that would otherwise break through it fail to do so, simply damaging the enchantment more than otherwise. Once sufficiently damaged, the entire suit disappears. In layman’s terms, the suit serves as her primary health bar.

While she has a few special techniques, she more closely relies on her arsenal. She can summon each weapon in an instant and release it from existence just as fast, but she can only do so once per battle, requiring a separate, more lengthy ritual to rejuvenate her repertoire. She can wield up to two weapons at once, and can keep two more summoned weapons holstered on her legs, chest, or back. Her armor weighs her down somewhat, preventing her from flying, teleporting, or using her arm blade, but still allowing for graceful leaps, dashes, and wall jumps.

Seshat’s greatest strength lies in her versatility, but that comes at the cost of her longevity. Her vast arsenal is, at the end of the day, limited. Weapons degrade with use and ammunition is spent in kind. She can swap between weapons rapidly to create mixups and combos, but only at the cost of prematurely destroying those she discards. Her equipment can only be recovered through a lengthy ritual of around half an hour, leaving her especially disadvantaged by prolonged series of engagements. Without her weapons and armor, she’s technically vastly more effective, but she’s so frail that she would almost always rather flee.

Her thieving habits and expertise in making weapons have earned her the ire and intrigue of most of the world’s major factions. She considers it to be an inconvenient badge of honor.

Voyt casts an unwelcoming figure, quiet, calculating and trim with obvious muscle definition. His exposed arms and face carry faded but still noticeable scarring from battles won and lost. Voyt’s dirty blonde hair hangs down to his neck and is often unkempt as is his beard which is usually shaved down to a shadow but comes off patchy from carrying the odd scarring across Voyt’s jaw.

Despite his standoffish appearance and demeanour however, Voyt’s outfit is quite striking. Consisting of an old west gunslinger inspired get-up complete with a dark brown stetson hat that has a bandolier of bullets wrapped around the base. A tattered dark brown poncho that hangs off the back of Voyt’s left side like a cape, a faded blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a dark brown and black bandanna wrapped around his neck to be pulled up and used when concealing his identity on the job. He has a protective vest over his shirt and brown thigh and leg guards over a pair of dusty black pants, accompanied of course with two holsters for his revolvers. Completing the ensemble is a pair of black cowboy boots with silver tips and rusty bronze spurs.

Professional: Voyt is all business to an almost robotic degree, speaking almost exclusively in direct and to the point statements. While he can come off prickly and does not suffer fools easily, he never really raises his voice or so much as changes inflection - even when, by his own admission, someone has pissed off. Making him something of an anomaly in regards to the often arrogant, boastful mercenaries and cutthroats with which he shares his profession.

Pragmatic: While his work is abhorrent and he is not terribly pleasant to most people, outside of that there isn’t much particularly villainous about Voyt. He takes effort not to kill or injure anyone he isn’t contracted to nor does he carry much personal feelings into his jobs. A life primarily on the move has given him a keen sense of survival and a flexible set of morals to ensure he stays one step ahead at all times.

Subject Thirteen was, for all intents and purposes, a complete success. Several biological scientists and DNA experts exiled from governments and black projects alike had pooled their knowledge together in an effort to create life, namely the perfect soldier. With intents to sell this specimen to the highest bidder or even form their own PMC group via cloning and reclaim their lost status. The scientists had collected the DNA (through questionable means and contacts) of numerous decorated soldiers. One had the idea to also imbue the subject with the DNA of various legends of the Old West, primarily because these were records and small samples that their contacts could supply at a much easier and faster rate than members of the military. After years of delicate trials and twelve failures. They succeeded.

Nicknamed Voyt - the initials of the four head scientists' second names - they set to work in shaping their creation to be well versed in all forms of firearm based combat, which he naturally excelled in. Though perhaps due to the DNA used, their subject showed a particular fascination & fondness for revolvers, lever action rifles, shotguns and other Old West based weaponry. Their creation was unfeasible when attempting to create a fully grown adult, so instead they created an infant, monitoring his hastened life every step of the way to ensure he displayed the aptitude they desired until his ageing slowed when he matured, he excelled past their expectations. They fostered their subject's brutal efficiency with a myriad of drugs, shock reinforcement and live human targets. The closer, it seemed, their dream became, the more unethical their practices would become. Until, one unknown day, their subject snapped and found the will and opportunity to escape. Cutting a bloody swathe through the facility and its guards until he hunted down and killed every last scientist involved in his creation, leaving the four overseers to last. Despite his younger age, Voyt had indeed passed his creator’s desires and was far too much for their security or intellects to stop.

No one is quite sure exactly when the Gunslinger mercenary began operating, but when he started, there were few better. Demonstrating a cold efficiency above even other longtime assassins, Voyt's gun-slinging wizardry was in high demand. Whilst always being extremely proficient with his weaponry, Voyt soon discovered what he found out to be ki, during a contract he had somehow imbued his inner ki into one of his guns, able to fire it endlessly. From that point on Voyt learned all he could about his new skill, apparently it flowed through all living things and having the DNA of some of the most prolific killers gave Voyt a very good grasp of it. At present Voyt has enough of a handle on ki to which he can stand against other martial artists, monsters, supernatural beings and all manner of things alien to regular people using only his guns and guile, which he does with alarming efficiency. Voyt very quickly raised his prices.

Since then his contracts have gotten higher and higher in scope, along with his profile. Voyt is a known entity due in part to his efficient reputation and the few times he has encountered Justice Rider Blaze - becoming a fan favourite villain, much to his displeasure. Naturally, a growing amount of attention is not the best thing for what is essentially an assassin, meaning Voyt has had to be more selective with his contracts, his current one being the first to offer an especially noteworthy amount of money in an easy to hide location,

All the way in Brazil…

Voyt is, as you might guess, a gunman. Theoretically he can efficiently use almost any ranged weapon put in his hands or in a pinch turn ordinary items into lethal weaponry - if it can be thrown, Voyt is dangerous with it. His most comfortable method of ranged warfare however are his pair of heavily customised black powder single action army revolvers. Imbued with his ki, these guns can fire an endless stream of bullets at the - often very durable - nomads Voyt regularly faces. Voyt is also fast, very very fast. Quick on the draw and quick on the feet, if you want to return fire or get up close and personal with Voyt it’s going to take some effort. While his ki heavily expands his incredible aim and speed, he utilises them for all manner of impossible or impractical techniques like ricochets and trick shots. Finishing out his kit are sticks of dynamite wrapped around his waist for those times you want to blow something up and a sawed off shotgun which fires shrapnel that lodges itself in a nomad’s skin since ordinary slugs won’t quite penetrate it.

Although no martial artist Voyt can fight close quarters if the need arises, but would preferably have his guns or any ranged weaponry in his hands to strike with or for explosive finishes to his combos. As an experienced hitman, Voyt can analyse an opponents styles and strategies the longer a fight goes on, it’s no scanning that the Oh series robots are capable of but assuming Voyt survives long enough and the opponent has any, Voyt will find their weak spots.

Voyt’s a competent brawler and his strikes are enough to deal with rank and file attackers but they are ill advised against nomads. Further, while Voyt’s speed and damage output are incredibly high, if he is without a gun or even anything he can throw, his options in a fight become severely limited. Lastly, Voyt can withstand greater amounts of punishment than the average combatant but he is no powerhouse and relies on dodging rather than tanking blows more than most characters.

■ Voyt has rejected five separate interview attempts from SHINING

Small, messy helmet shaped brown hair, ill-fitting combat equipment. If there was an antithesis to every single aspect of what one would think of in a Nomad, it would be Lucas Miller. His baby face and perpetually nervous expression do little to add to his aura, save for complimenting his wiry frame. He does bare various scars and bandages of past fights, but rather than make him look like a seasoned warrior they more so serve as a roadmap of the abuse he has endured on his journey.

Lucas' gear caps off all of this by being not well fitted to his size, extremely cheap and with obvious signs of patchwork. Lucas wears an oversized shirt with the graphic print of a dragon and tiger in battle clearly worn from time and chipping all over - in addition to the small holes dotting other areas of the shirt indicating this is his only one for combat. His hand wraps are worn and rough as is the knee pads and single elbow pad he always wears (not that they do him much good, defensively speaking), all of this tied together with some old wrestling tights of his father complete with a pair of rough looking leather boots.

You don’t wanna mess with this guy.

Timid: The boy is under-confident and passive to an almost absurd degree, cultivated over years of being a victim. While he will object to treatment he dislikes he rarely meaningfully resists it, especially if coming from someone he does care about such as his father trying to push him into the life of a Nomad in the first place. Lucas is usually paranoid on some level that everyone (not including his dad) is seconds away from attacking or insulting him and so tends to mumble and stutter over his words, always trying desperately not to offend.

Brave: Lucas is, bar-none, the most cowardly member of the cast. Yet, in spite of this, he does possess a good heart and will always try to do the right thing even if it almost causes his legs to buckle from fear. In times of genuine crisis he is even able to stomach his own insecurities to a certain extent to help someone in need - not that it has improved his physical performance, normally.

Hidden Depths: Despite what the above two traits may have you believe, Lucas is perfectly calm and low-key privately, but when forced out into the world he is a few inches away from losing hair over the stress. In spite of all this, his father Perry is fully convinced that somewhere inside of his son is a strength far beyond anything any Nomad can hope to match. So far, there is little evidence of this being the case.

Lucas Miller could, charitably, be considered the joke character among everybody - trained fighter and not. A shy, timid, stuttering and under-confident youth effectively dragged into the Nomad lifestyle from his overbearing father. “Showtime” Perry Miller was a testament to the belief that you can have a career in something even if you have no talent whatsoever. A short, slightly pudgy and balding-in-his-early-twenties “Nomad” who lost quite literally every fight he’d ever been in, yet still carried a charisma and presence as if he were a worldwide superstar. To his credit, he did brand himself like crazy to some limited, likely ironic, success. He also made it an entire career of being mercilessly beaten but never once actually losing via K.O.

Near the end of his illustrious career he settled down with a woman several leagues above him in just about every conceivable fashion, even having a child with her - which had to have been an act of God considering the performance Perry is alleged to have given. Their relationship was a short one after their son was born, she was a woman with a lust for life and a strong desire not to be tied down to anything and he was, well, “Showtime” Perry Miller. Rather than abandon or alienate the baby he had effectively been dumped with however, Perry actually proved to be a rather competent dad, at least when it came to basic needs and ensuring his son had his support.

Too much support, as it would turn out. Young Lucas was not particularly intellectual and not obviously physically gifted in any way, yet Perry strongly encouraged him to take up martial arts as an extracurricular activity. Somehow, despite having a “historic” father of the industry, Lucas did not take naturally to the pastime at all. He hesitated in attacking people, had zero drive or desire and years of bullying had honed him to succumb to self-defeat before the match would even begin. Through rampant self-delusion and sheer belief in his son, Perry continued to and still does believe his boy to be a martial arts prodigy still cultivating his skills. A belief that was seemingly justified after one particular incident after high school, his son’s first “tournament” match.

Lucas, solely as a joke, was invited to take part in the Philadelphia Invitational as part of an exhibition fight to kickstart the show. His opponent? The previous year’s Grand Champion. Lucas begged, pleaded, pitched a fit and hid in the crevice all to avoid this fight but Perry had zero intention of letting an opportunity like this pass him by, er, pass them by. So, on went the match. Predictably, the entirety of it was spent by Lucas getting beaten to a pulp - prolonged by his trademark Miller Toughness that gave him the same affinity for avoiding being knocked out as his father - until one moment in the match, where his opponent wound up for the match ending strike that would send Lucas flying headfirst out of the building, where Lucas stumbled forward and slipped on the mat. He flew upwards, back of the head smacking against the floor as his leg flew upwards and caught the Champ with a savage kick right to the jaw. His opponent was sent careening upwards before crumpling to a heap on the floor, much to everyone’s stunned silence, the match went to Lucas Miller. It is reported that Perry allegedly did multiple laps around the entire building, screaming his head off. (Despite the victory, it did little for Lucas' reputation due to it obviously being dumb luck and an incident where, as Lucas was being dragged off by paramedics, he uttered "I'm going to Bizby Land." at one of the journalists. Other fighters consistently refer to him as Bizby or mockingly ask "how was it?")

Since then, Lucas has received numerous offers from folks seeing him as a sort of special attraction, much to his extreme displeasure. Most of these, Lucas was able to put his foot down or talk Perry out of (mostly by arguing about the need to protect “his brand” or any other language Perry understood) until one particular offer came by post. An invitation to the illustrious World Fighting Carnival. There were no words to be said, no actions that could be taken that would dissuade Perry Miller from forcing his son to seize this, admittedly considerable, opportunity. Within the week, Lucas’ bags were packed and his plane ticket was purchased (they could only afford the one). He was Brazil bound.

All of this has left Lucas an emotional wreck, not helping are his recent troubles sleeping and other strange issues. Like a voice, calling out to him from within. Like some sort of exposure therapy, a part of him is hopeful that this trip will help him to figure himself out. At the very least, make his Dad happy.

Lucas has trained for several years to be a fighter. You would not know that if I did not tell you.

A combination of being incompetently trained, having zero drive and an extreme fear of pretty much every opponent results in Lucas being absurdly bad at martial arts. His reaction speeds are slow on account of his timid nature, his signatures mostly have low range and adaptability and nothing he does packs as much of a punch due to his fear holding back his entire move-set.

What Lucas does have is a well tuned ability to take utterly disgusting amounts of punishment. He can be beaten, submitted or knocked out of a ring sure, but good luck ever leaving him down for the count. Obviously this is small comfort to him as he’d much rather the fight be over a lot quicker than it usually is, but it is a strength nonetheless.

Lucas' actual fighting style is best described as someone emulating moves and mannerisms seen from video games and shonen anime. To his credit, they are fairly close to the source material and tend to serve him a bit better than any move taught by Perry.

There are, slight, glimpses that Lucas might actually be significantly more capable if he really tried. As said his signature moves and specials all have pathetically low range behind them but his offensive manoeuvres such as his fireball are recorded to be more damaging than the average ki projectile. Likewise, while a fluke, he did manage to knock out a Champion Nomad with a single strike. The actual likelihood of this potential being cultivated at all however is exceedingly low.

Where exactly would you like to begin?

As was lightly hinted at, Lucas is fearful of any kind of provocation and therefore holds back the strength of a lot of his moves. All of his special moves leave him open even if successful or otherwise have some sort of glaring drawback thanks to improper training and a backwards mindset about fighting. His range isn’t very far and his damage output is lacking making him struggle at seemingly any range at all.

Again, he can take a considerable amount of punishment even in comparison to your average Nomad but he can’t actually do anything with that.

If all of that weren’t enough, he’s been struggling as of late with issues of fatigue or some sort of vertigo, an effect he describes as his veins seizing up and disorienting him. He and Perry have tried several different treatments and medications but thus far nothing has worked.

■ Lucas has been banned from the Neogaf forums four times.

■ Lucas is very camera shy, particularly after the Bizby Land incident. It graduates his shy stutter to outright incomprehensible babbling until he stops talking altogether and looks like a deer in headlights.

Dignity. Poise. Elegance. Really good hair. These are all aspects that are paramount in the presentation of someone of high social standing, such as Florian.

Florian’s facial features are delicate enough to seem almost artificial (partially true, he always has a little bit of foundation, just to get a base, you see) with zero blemishes on his skin and a perfectly manicured physique meant for speed and power, all topped off with his impressive head of dark red hair. Conditioned, coiffed and styled at the front into a fairly large widows peak fringe - which he enjoys running his hands through when flashing an award winning smile and noble chuckle.

His outfit is equally ornate - and mildly impractical - featuring a collared white and green frock coat adorned with gold lining and embroidery, and knotwork patterning on the tails. The coat is worn over a formal suit made up of white pleated trousers tucked into black riding boots and a formal charcoal and green buttoned vest, typically with a cravat tucked in at the top of the shirt. Over the coat he also wears matching coloured epaulettes and consistently wears a pair of white gloves, the last thing a man of his stature can afford is to get sick after all.

Annoying: There truly is no other word for it. Florian is obnoxious, arrogant, condescending and demeaning. All of these traits together would be one thing, but the worst of it is that Florian is not aware he is any of these things. His arrogance is justified because of course he is the best and everyone else is below his league, he’s not insulting he’s merely truthful, people don’t dislike him they are in fact his closest friends. Trying to tell him otherwise is futile as he is simultaneously so deluded and so vain that he’ll merely think you’re just jealous or trying to jest with him. Deep deep down he is aware he can, sometimes, be a *bit* much, but tries to downplay it as much as possible, otherwise he would not be perfect!

Driven: Part of what makes Florian so much to deal with is that he holds everything and everyone, himself included, to impossibly high standards. This does mean that he gives everything, no matter how pointlessly mundane, his absolute best as he believes that there’s always something he can learn or use to better himself from it. It’s even granted him more maturity in certain circumstances than one might expect, even if it comes from a place of ego. If he loses a fight for example, it’s not because his opponent is better, it just means Florian - as the greatest Nomad - hasn’t reached his full potential yet and needs to try harder. Part of this mindset is the feeling growing up, nurtured by a distant and abusive father, that he needs to earn love and respect through constant grit and self improvement, part of it is his complete misunderstanding of what his role in life is supposed to even be.

Well Meaning: Should someone be able to be in the presence of Florian long enough to not want to strangle his neck, it becomes clear that he is fundamentally a very lonely and socially stunted young man desperately looking for some sort of purpose to his life. Even in spite of his ludicrously upper class upbringing, he is naturally good intentioned and tries to be respectful of everyone regardless of their background. He is just bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, baaaaaaad at it.

Daniel Wessington was a self-made man, that we are aware of. Truthfully he came out of nowhere, documentation proving him to be a former blue collar worker before an unexpected windfall of cash led to him rising the ranks of the weapons company he worked for, from a simple salesperson all the way to a member of the board. It was not enough.

Soon his vision, guile and ruthless business tactics had his company - in all but name - buying up smaller weapon companies left and right, subsuming them into one larger and larger entity that would be rebranded into one of the main megacorporations alongside the likes of SHINING or Horizon Frontiers, dubbing it: Minerva Defense Logistics. Now the CEO of the company, Wessington felt the need to begin creating a dynasty, or at least the pretence of creating one. He moved his - primary - home to Switzerland where he would move on with frightening speed to marry a Swiss supermodel named Maria and, from there, creating a “family”. From that whirlwind of life came Florian.

To an outsider’s perspective, Florian’s life would seem to be a charmed one. To an extent that was accurate, he never wanted for anything material and enjoyed every benefit you could conceive of that came from being the son of one of the most powerful people on earth. But one thing became clear from the moment he was born, he never had his father’s love. Daniel was distant and abusive, not always verbally so. Seeming to resent the very idea of having to be a father, while his wife proved to be a nurturing and caring element that kept Florian from becoming the same kind of man as his father, or worse.

In spite of this, as he grew older, Florian seemed to believe more and more that it was a personal failing on his part that he only had one loving parent. He decided to remedy that by growing into the greatest version of himself that was physically, emotionally and intellectually possible. Initially he began digesting everything he could regarding business, weapons manufacturing and Minerva itself. When that failed to impress (due slightly in part to Florian more-so parroting terms and ideas rather than actually internalising them in any meaningful way) Florian began trying to figure out what he was passionate about in life. Archery, polo, golf, cooking, all of it he studied with relentless dedication but none of it truly inspired him.

His answer came in his mid-teens, when a group of would-be criminals kidnapped the young master during a holiday and intended to ransom him off for a big payday. Instead, the naive sixteen year old awakened to his latent potential and handed them all their asses, before heading back home to a hysterical mother and staff and a father who was not even aware he’d been missing. It didn’t matter to Florian, he had found his calling in life!

Soon after, he began training in just about any form of combat he could consider, hiring some of the best practitioners money could buy to hone and develop his skills. Florian proved to be a prodigious pupil and a quick study, even surpassing some of his masters in a matter of months. One issue he did face however was a wall in his ki, no matter how much he trained and developed, it never seemed to raise above a level slightly below average. While he was able to dominate the local and statewide tournaments with ease on pure skill alone, he was beginning to run into issues as his sights set on stronger and stronger opponents. His answer came when using his father’s pull to commission a refined version of a technology used by a famous Nomad from the television that Minerva had a hand in co-developing with Horizon Frontiers. This device amped up his ki and soon enough, Florian Wessington The First began carving a place into the world of martial arts.

His father is, at best, indifferent about the entire affair. Seemingly only caring insofar as it keeps Florian occupied and away from him, but Florian meanwhile is convinced it is the answer to finding his place in life. He’s even used it as a chance to field test Minerva technologies and do brand PR work for the company, efforts which have aided it in a notable way but not once has any of it gone mentioned.

But now, with the World Fighting Carnival in Brazil offering prestige on an unprecedented scale along with an exceedingly valuable power stone to boot. It would appear Florian has found the silver bullet needed to achieve his goals, all while being able to bring good will and civility to his Nomadic peers.

Florian may give the impression of a foppish coward more concerned with looking good than performing well, however his style is an outright inverse of that perception. Florian operates as a rushdown type combatant, trained extensively in several different martial arts and forms of weaponry and equipped with numerous tools that allow him to close gaps, harass from afar and break open guards with various mix-ups in order to chain together combos to highly damaging effect.

While not particularly impressive in terms of natural ki, Florian is capable of moving quickly for long periods of time due to his rigorous daily training programmes and swapping between various complex moves at a moments notice without losing a step.

This is supplemented by the EX-System Basilisk, a gauntlet courtesy of Minerva Defense Logistics R&D team and a refined version of the similar EX-System used by Jill Breicen. The tech allows Florian’s normally mediocre ki to be boosted beyond its limits and allow him to create full on weapons and minor constructs, significantly expanding his repertoire and furthering his options for getting in an opponent’s face.

Florian has a very well balanced kit and a lot of options for being a nuisance for opponents whatever the range as well as ways to get up close and personal where he shines. The issue is that’s really only where he shines, at medium and especially long range he can provide offence but it’s easily predicted and more meant for continued pressure than an actual reply to ranged opponents. Furthermore, despite his rushdown style, Florian’s damage output is predicated more on chaining his moves into one another or into long strings of combos rather than the moves themselves, should he be cut off then he can’t really dish out the same kind of power as other Nomads.

Also, while Florian’s defence is not bad, it’s only as far as his natural ki allows, it can’t be improved by the Basilisk system, making him a bit less hardy than other Nomads.

Lastly, Florian is far from helpless without his Basilisk System but he clearly does rely on it, if it should be broken or at least damaged, it can lock him out of most of his move-set, making him much easier to deal with.

■ While Florian was born in and considers himself Swiss first and foremost, his accent is mostly American with a hint of French beneath. It only serves to make everything he says sound more smug.

■ While disliked by most for good reason and outright hated by his father, Florian has a genuinely loving relationship with his mother and gets on surprisingly well with his waitstaff and contacts within Minerva who often show genuine loyalty to him in turn. It is one of his very few grounding elements as a person.

■ Florian wrote and self-published his own book: “The 37 Tenants of Florian Wessington I”, which details the key virtues and mannerisms one should have or aspire to as part of the noble class.

Rui looks unremarkable, but only at first glance. There’s little in regard of seeing her as a fighter due to her quite diminutive frame. She’s above average in height but her arms and build feel lacking in comparison to most brawlers. Rui doesn’t strive to be sinewy either, she’s comfortable in her wiry style if that. What she lacks in body mass she makes up for flare in her appearance, she has such distinct features and clothing that it’s hard not to command attention from potential onlookers. Her hair is a dizzying lime green, casting an aura when caught in the blaze of the sun. If the sun wasn’t enough to cast it’s light, the intensity in her yellow eyes was more than enough to account for. All resting on a crème colored surface devoid of any blemish or imperfection.

Her hair is usually seen pulled back and tied in a pony tail, falling to the just at the small of her back, to avoid any kind of hair pulling or wisps of her obstructing her vision. Red earrings hang from her ears and no make up is worn, relying on her natural beauty to carry the load. Despite her small frame she does have quite the buxom bust, only emphasized by her battle regalia. Skintight blue pants/leggings cling to her body forming a second skin, pinned under a deep purple leotard tight around the neck. The purple and blue combination is pulled together with a long orange sash fastened securely around her waist by an emerald. Matching deep purple arm warmers extend from her fingers all the way to midway up the bicep. White shoes pulled over her leggings complete her simple fit.

Rui keeps two gourds strapped to her waist as well that are attached to her fingers by string and rings. Serving as a way to keep her from getting parched or sober, but also serving as a weapon as well. The gourds themselves are heavily imbued with Ki from the first moments of creation to now. This has made them far removed from being brittle as she can also channel ki constantly into them if need be. The wire attached to the gourds allows for high velocity projectiles similar to that of an enlarge yo-yo.

Just about any negative adjective could be attributed to Rui. Her demure presence is ruined the moment she opens her mouth. The beauty she emanates fades with the vulgarity and consequent belches that erupt from the bellows of her stomach. She’s rude, arrogant, incredibly violent and peevish. Having a filter was never a concept in her mind, alcohol only served as a vehicle to let those words flow out faster. Egging on her opponents or calling them offensive names isn’t beyond or underneath her either and more or less falls under strategy and general sentiments.

Her passionate ire is also manifested into giving her a fiery warriors spirit and battle tenacity; to say she was a sore loser is a far cry from what else could be said. Competition was born into her and has naturally led her to seek stronger opponents. She hasn’t met an opponent she could not smack down nor suffered a loss that left her on the brink or the throws of retirement. Losing was almost alien to her now that she was a tenured veteran in the arena. Fighting has been the only thing to ever bring her joy and negate the drivel that spews out of her mouth like a cesspool.

She isn’t completely inhuman, emotions other than anger and joy encapsulate her persons as well. She feels pain, mental and physical, as much as anyone else. She doesn’t necessarily warm up to anyone nor does she have a soft side, but she will cry and experience negative emotions from time to time.

Rui was born and raised in Hokkaido, Japan. Specifically on the shore which meant harsh winters, which were most of the times outside of July, were much harsher than had they been inland. This meant that Rui was constantly cold and relied on multiple layers and the heat that warmed their home and the bottoms of the floors from the furnace located underneath and out back of their home akin to that of royalty back in the day. However, the family was far from royalty, rather her father was a fisherman. He worked catching and netting fish on a commercial liner he owned with shellfish and arthropods on his off time too. He spent countless hours at sea and when he arrived, drank himself into a coma which Rui never clearly understood. Drinking to unconsciousness was behavior reserved for salary men in Tokyo and her father was far from that. Regardless she and her mom exchanged responsibilities of cleaning up after him and tucking him into bed before he repeated the next day like clockwork.

Her mother on the other hand was a preschool teacher for an insanely tiny school located on the coast off the beaches of Hokkaido. This allowed her to supervise her daughter until she was at a comfortable enough age that she could stay home and watch herself. Some days she would accompany her dad on the ship and help where she could, but she was still far too young to be anything more than a hindrance. So she stayed home, in that she became addicted to the modest CRT TV that had seen more years than her at this point. Rui burned through all of her fathers B&W VHS tapes about samurai and martial art greats from his youth that now passed the torch onto her. One day she went from simply just watching for the umpteenth time to mimicking the movements of the actors. In place of a katana was an unsullied cucumber and in replacement of a body was her pillow.

She took herself to school and joined several clubs, but the most prevalent being the Kendo and Karate club. Her mother found these clubs too manly for a homely girl like Rui, believing archery would have been more becoming of her. Her father, however, reciprocated his daughters fascination with the two. Years would go by and her skills would increase and she’d find herself winning medals for local competitions that only amassed a showing of maybe less than a dozen children. Not much in the way of competition, but she was still able to flex her non existent muscles. Her father found it important to curate a strong body to match her strong center of will for fighting. She trained on his boat, using the ropes and bars for sailing to use as her personal gym.

Rui never looked at alcohol nor did she want to taint her body with such toxins, but the craving for her fathers inventory steadily increased day by day until she was unsure she could handle another day longer without the imbibing of the bitter ichor. She would wait until she was of age, but for now she would travel far from home to attend her high school from her prestigious entrance exam scores. It was a whole new world, she had only seen a shallow square of the world meanwhile there was a Mecca of technology and entertainment as far as the eye could see. While she was obsessed with her ancient samurai stories and movies the kids around her focused on the Justice Riders and being recruited by the SHINING. Rui found the classics better than what ever far fetched bullshit this was.

Rui stumbled in the beginning, not used to there being a higher level of technique. She found her footing shortly and climbed the ranks of the fighting world in Sapporo, both in school and also illegally in the trenches of the city. Her grades took a sharp turn in favor of becoming a delinquent, the top delinquent really, which brought negative publicity and the eye of the SHINING. They set a meeting with her and explained to her what she was, a nomad. Her mind could barely wrap around the meaning but she could feel the presence of Ki they constantly mentioned. She signed her soul away over to corporate greed in exchange for mastering her Ki. She shot up in publicity and popularity across the prefectures of japan, forgetting her roots and life at school.

Her thirst for alcohol finally took its toll when she had both the money and ability to buy her own to relax her from the exhausting weight of being a corporate entities caricature. One drink a night turned into vicious alcoholism, yet it made her stronger and her ki more focused. She unfortunately could not stay sober for the public eye and became a disgraced hero, losing any and all contract to SHINING. Defeated she returned home where her parents accepted her with open arms and more importantly taught her why alcohol had seemed as necessary as water. She bided her time at home before rejecting the title of nomad and taking on something more familiar, Ronin. She was disgraced and had no master so she would seek them out and destroy. For the next few years she would roam around from country to country seeking out opponents. It wasn’t until she found the flyer for the tournament in Brazil did she finally find a sense of purpose once more.

Rui’s fighting style is twofold and relies on a very specific mechanic that revolves around what makes her uniquely a nomad. Unlike most people, Rui has an extra organ in her body that operates like a secondary stomach. A sack that unlike holding and digesting food, holds and breaks down alcohol. As a specialized organ the breakdown of alcohol is broken down much slower and remains active in the system for much longer. Normally this would inhibit anyone from doing anything, keeping them in a dangerous state of inebriation, but Rui has mastered the careful tipping point that her organ provides. Rui keeps her organ at the precipice of being full, without hitting the brim. She requires the alcohol in her body to perform the abilities and martial arts she’s specialized herself in. The more she burns the more she sweats which releases a slight alcoholic vapor. If she rapidly burns through her reserves she instantly becomes hung over and her martial arts suffers by becoming slower and more predictable.

To keep her levels manageable she’ll constantly sip from her gourds during battle, conserving the liquor until fully depleted. She possess two gourds for specific reasons, one gourd contains 白金 (Shirogane) which is light/clear alcohol from rice and the other containing 黒鉄 (Kurogane) which is a dark and heavy liquor mostly consisting of wheat and barley. Filling up on Shirogane grants her incredible fluidity, speed, and unpredictability in her movements. What she loses in strength and durability in this mode she makes up for agility and grapples. Filling up on Kurogane grants her immense strength and durability, she becomes almost unmovable and the ability to deal terrifying damage from strikes and blows. If all else fails she can consume and mix both liquors giving way to both attributes, but causing immense strain on her body and evaporating from her system at an accelerated rate.

While these two are her dominate fighting styles, they both utilize the martial arts she’s practiced. Originally, she pursued kendo and karate, but kendo had been shelved to focus on hand-to-hand. Eventually due to her drinking style she sought the ancient martial art from China known as zuì quán (drunken boxing/drunken arts) both the Buddhist and Daoist style as a well as the Northern and Southern fist. The practice mimicked the moves of a drunken fighter, Rui was actually drunk most of the time, leading her to elevate the martial arts and infuse hints of almost everything East Asian. Overall she relies on powerful strikes and grappling, she prefers to use her unpredictability and fluid movements to be a gap closer, but will control medium to long range with her gourds.

Beyond her fist she also relies on her gourds, not just for providing her with her liquor but as weapons themselves. As mentioned before they are attached to her hands by wires and strings giving her easy access. The gourds can move and grind off the wires giving them a high velocity allowing them to be used as a weapon similar to the Chinese Meteor Hammer.

Rui is an excellent close ranged fighter and master grappler which leaves her no stranger to being up close and personal. And while most of her skills are ways to combat distance or close it, she does not have many tools in her kit to defend against an onslaught of long range barrages. Her other weakness stems from her fighting style. She must be constantly aware of her ki displacement in her specialized organ and in her gourds to really maximize her skills in battle. She’s no push over when she is sober but she feels a bit more antiquated when she has to fight like that.

Have you ever seen someone catch a fish diving off the side of a ship in the dead of winter?

Olivia is a plain, somewhat underdeveloped young woman, with vibrant blue (originally black) hair, which is often worn in two braided ponytails that reach just past the center of her back. Her vision is pretty terrible, so she wears a pair of corrective lenses over her intense blue eyes. Since becoming a Nomad, she typically dresses in comfortable, if a bit oversized, traveling clothes, usually in shades of blue or black. On average, this is a simple ensemble consisting of cargo pants, t-shirt, and hoodie. She’s also never without her extra large traveler’s backpack, which contains all her worldly possessions, most importantly, her custom controller and Xolys, whose head can often be seen peeking out of it.

Xolys himself usually takes the form of a small robot, which was obviously cobbled together from various sources, and fairly crudely at that. However, when Olivia activates Xolys’s combat form, he becomes a frighteningly perfect recreation of the towering technomantic nightmare of the same name from Gearmantic Hearts.

Olivia is a friendly, if socially awkward girl, who is always happy to make new friends and chat with them about her many interests. The problem is, those interests tend to be rather bizarre, and the talkative, overzealous, and highly energetic Olivia is almost always completely oblivious to that fact. Because of the near consent rejection and ridicule she’s experienced, she has started to become a bit more hesitant to open up to people, but showing even the slightest interest in one of her obsessions will open the proverbial floodgates once more, with Olivia happily babbling away for hours on end. Due to her exceptionally poor social skills, she often inadvertently invades others’ personal space and, especially when excited about the topic of discussion, speaks in an incredibly rapid and louder-than-necessary voice, which most find both difficult to understand and highly annoying. She’s also a hopeless romantic, which, coupled with her afore mentioned bizarre interests and lack of social skills, presents its own share of problems… Still, if one can look past all her quirks and eccentricities, they will find a loyal and caring friend. Indeed, Olivia doesn’t seem to have a single mean bone in her body, and all of her various bothersome mannerisms are completely unintentional on her part, leading the poor girl to frequently apologize for her offensive behavior.

On the other hand, despite his appearance (in both forms), Xolys is an unfailingly polite and respectful being, often complimenting other Nomads’ abilities and techniques. Strangely coming across as the grounded voice of reason, in contrast to Olivia’s somewhat unhinged exuberance, he attempts to guide her through social interactions in much the same way as she guides him in combat.

Growing up in the suburbs of Geopolis as the youngest and weakest of her parent’s five children, Olivia was always viewed as a freak and a failure. Her father was the proud owner of Bell Bionics, the best place in Geopolis for visiting Nomads to acquire mechanical augmentations and replacement limbs. However, while her talented older siblings served as his frequently-praised assistants, after one accident too many, it was clear that Olivia was nothing but a hinderance, and she was soon banned from entering the workshop. Things weren’t any easier for her at school, either. Her scrawny and bespectacled appearance was bad enough, but when combined with her strange interests, grating voice, and virtually non-existent social skills, it made her a prime target for bullying. Thus, despised, mocked, and shunned by her family and classmates alike, Olivia turned to the only place of refuge she possessed in her sad and lonely world- the local arcade.

From the moment she had first set foot in the neon-covered edifice, Olivia had been enthralled. Its myriad otherworldly lights and sounds drew her in like a moth to a flame, its array of games promising a longed-for escape from her depressing reality. Yet, there was one game that surpassed all the others- Gearmantic Hearts. A renowned fighting game from Covington Arts, it was one of the most popular games at the arcade, so much so, that Olivia hadn’t even been able to play it on her first visit. Or her second. Or her third… The lines were so long, she would spend hours waiting, only to go home disappointed when the arcade closed, just as she was about to take her turn. At the very least, she was able to watch the game being played while she waited, and she eventually memorized all the moves of each fighter. All, that was, save one…

Xolys.

He was a bizarre, eldritch machine that was simply captivating in his strangeness, and, to someone like Olivia, who had eagerly devoured all the works of H.P. Lovecraft, it was love at first sight. According to the one sentence description on his profile, which appeared along with those of the other fighters on the side of the game’s arcade cabinet, he was a robot that housed the soul of an extradimensional horror, but to Olivia, he was so much more than that. He was a kindred spirit, someone who could understand the pain of being unwanted by anyone. Despite, or more likely, because of his strange appearance, everyone seemed to avoid playing as Xolys. The boys either played as a burly badass, like ATLAS, the Aggronaught, or a sexy robo babe, like Penny Pinnacle, while what few other girls took an interest in the game inevitably fixated on the brooding bishonen bioroid, Finnegan Fabricant. No one wanted to play as a freakish cybermantic abomination. No one, except Olivia. For her, there could be no other champion. When she finally got her chance, she would show poor Xolys that someone did care. Until then, she spent her long hours waiting in line mentally filling in the blanks of the technohorror’s meager backstory, before setting them to paper when she finally returned home. He was fighting, Olivia had decided, in order to be reunited with his lost love, a young girl (and blatant self insert) who was the only person to treat him with kindness. Yet, she had been captured, and only by defeating all the other fighters would he be able to rescue her. Indeed, such feverish imaginings were Olivia’s only way of interacting with her cherished Xolys, until, at long last, the seemingly impossible finally happened.

She got to play Gearmantic Hearts for the first time.

At first, it was just another typical day of waiting in line, with Olivia one spot away from her goal, and mere minutes left before the arcade would close, depriving her of her chance yet again. But this time, something different happened. This time fate intervened on her behalf. She was holding her quarter in her hand, when someone bumped into her from behind, causing the coin to fall and begin rolling away. Leaving the line to chase after it, she was led on quite the chase, until she found herself in a darkened corner of the arcade. When the coin finally came to rest between Lunar Lander and Mad Planets, the arcade had begun to close down and disgruntled gamers were reluctantly filing out the doors. Ordinarily, Olivia would have been one of them, but suddenly, an idea occurred to her. If she hid herself in this darkened alcove and waited for everyone else to leave, she would have the entire arcade, and, most importantly, Gearmantic Hearts, all to herself! Of course, she would be locked in for the night, but her family never cared where she was, and the arcade’s two security cameras only monitored the entrance and exit, in case of a break in. They wouldn’t know if someone remained in the building after it had closed. So that’s exactly what she did.

Once she was certain the arcade’s owner had left, Olivia’s trembling body made its cautious way over to Gearmantic Hearts. The machine’s glowing lights and screen were even more pronounced in the darkness of the closed arcade, like a beacon, calling her forward, calling her to her destiny. Gripping her recaptured quarter tightly, her heart pounded as she inserted the small silver disc into the machine’s coin slot. Then, it was time. Carefully placing her delicate hand around the joystick with a reverence normally reserved for a holy relic, Olivia moved the flashing selector box until it had reached her precious Xolys and tapped the bright blue button to confirm her choice. It was like a match made in eldritch heaven, with Olivia leading the technohorror to victory in the game’s campaign mode at normal difficulty, and then at expert difficulty. When she returned home the following morning, she was the happiest she’d been in years, and no one was any the wiser. Thus, the following night, she again remained in the arcade after closing and beat the campaign on ultimate difficulty, an achievement no one else had managed. Her synergy with her beloved Xolys was simply unparalleled. But then, that wasn’t really surprising. Indeed, during the seeming eternity she had waited to play Gearmantic Hearts, she had even gone so far as to sneak into her father’s workshop and scavenge enough parts to cobble together a miniature approximation of the technohorror, along with a makeshift controller, which crudely mimicked G.H.’s own control configuration, in an attempt to practice for the day she got a chance at the real thing.

These overnight visits continued for several weeks, ensuring that her initials, ORB, were firmly ensconced at the top of G.H.’s score board, much to the immense puzzlement and frustration of the game’s army of patrons. Olivia silently watched from the sidelines as animated discussions broke out over the identity of the mysterious “Orb”, even as those discussions turned to debates over how they would fare against a human opponent. Still, while she was confident that she could lead Xolys to victory against any potential challenger, Olivia was reluctant to reveal her secret. After all, the ensuing questions could very well jeopardize her after-hours activities. Even so, a small part of her wanted to prove that she was as good a player as she believed herself to be. The game’s AI was strong, true enough, but it was still no match for a skilled human player. Thus, after a few more weeks of thinking it over, Olivia made the fateful decision to come forward.

At first, she was met with a mixture of mockery and incredulity (along with several accusations that this was nothing more than a pitiful attempt to get to the front of the line with a story that was clearly bullshit), but, eventually, enough patrons took pity on her to grant a demonstration. She would be going up against Kevin King, the player with the second highest score in campaign mode, and undefeated champion of PvP. Nevertheless, Olivia was undaunted, and when she stepped up to the controls for what many believed to be her first time, she was ready for anything Kevin could throw at her. Or so she thought…

Just as the match was about to start, someone grabbed her glasses and chucked them across the room. She was so shocked and disoriented by this unprecedented turn of events that Penny Pinnacle, under the command of Kevin’s skilled hand, was able to soundly demolish poor Xolys in record time. Cruelly mocked and pelted with spitballs, an utterly dejected Olivia retrieved her cracked glasses and trudged home under increasingly overcast skies, where she collapsed onto her bed and cried herself to sleep, her practice model of Xolys clutched tightly in her arms. This was the end, the distraught girl told herself as she sobbed into her sheets. She could never go back to the arcade again. She had failed her beloved Xolys, and now her dreams were well and truly dead. However, Olivia would soon discover that she was only half right.

That night, a mighty tempest rocked her small neighborhood to its foundations. The rain and hail pelted buildings and vehicles, while wind howled like tormented souls, and jagged bolts of lightning split trees amidst deafening peals of thunder. Yet, the slumbering Olivia was aware of none of it, nor did she perceive the swirling rent in the fabric of reality which opened above her bed, allowing a single ethereal flower petal to fall upon and phase inside her lovingly cobbled together recreation of Xolys. It would not be until the following evening that she fully realized what had occurred, when “Xolys” spoke to her. To Olivia’s astonishment and joy, she was told that her glorified remote control toy now housed the spirit of an extradimensional being known as Xolys, who had come to her universe to find and rescue his lost love, just like in her fanfiction! But, he needed Olivia’s help. Without her, he was nothing more than an inert toy, yet, guided by her controller and her boundless faith in him, he would be able to achieve the same incredible feats as his namesake from Gearmantic Hearts!

Needless to say, Olivia couldn’t believe her luck! Now she would be able to lead the real Xolys to victory in his quest, this time by battling actual villains and monsters, while entering Nomad fighting competitions on the side! It was like a dream come true! And so, a few days later, on her eighteenth birthday, Olivia packed up her most prized possessions and set off with Xolys on her new life as a Nomad. Recently, she’s heard of a massive fighting competition in Brazil that’s offering an honest to goodness Power Stone as a grand prize. Xolys has informed her that, with its power, he would almost certainly be able to locate his missing love, and so Olivia has made it her goal to not only enter the contest, but emerge as the grand champion.

Piece of cake, right?

Whenever it’s time to fight, Olivia whips out her custom controller and activates Xolys’s combat mode, which she guides through each fight with the rapid implementation of intricate button and joystick combinations. In addition, several small holographic displays flash to life in an arc around the controller, tracking Xolys’s health, power levels, and other related stats.

An imposing eldritch technomantic monstrosity, Xolys’s towering, supernaturally resilient combat form is covered in a plethora of Trans-Phasic Energy Scythe-tipped appendages, as well as a dizzying mass of spiked tentacular mechadendrites, leaving little doubt that he is an utter nightmare to face in melee combat. Although Xolys’s ranged capabilities are far more limited, consisting of just his head-mounted Unreality Beam, this attack is profoundly powerful. In addition, Xolys can also rapidly extend his tentacular technomantic mechadendrites out to fifteen feet, an ability sure to come as quite the unpleasant surprise for first-time opponents, who erroneously believe themselves to be safely out of range of any melee attacks. Although Xolys boasts an impressive pair of energy wings, he is incapable of flight, the wings being simply cosmetic.

For her part, Olivia herself has zero combat abilities whatsoever, and is actually quite a bit frailer than the average young woman her age.

Despite boasting impressive strength and toughness, Xolys is quite slow, preferring to remain in a single position and draw his opponent into the range of his multiple melee weapons. This, coupled with the fact that he possesses only a single ranged attack (albeit at two power levels), means that he seriously struggles against fast moving opponents with considerable long-ranged firepower. In addition, all his Signature and Super Moves have an obvious tell, in the form of the increasingly brilliant glow of his energy wings, which grows even more pronounced when he’s preparing to employ a Super Move. In fact, before each Super Move, the various wing segments split apart and begin spinning around in a different configuration, unique to each move. Thus, a perceptive opponent can easily foresee what’s about to happen and take appropriate action, at least, if they’re fast enough. Finally, incapacitating Olivia renders Xolys completely harmless, something a truly unscrupulous foe can easily capitalize upon.

Trust me, you really don’t.