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[OOC] Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour Page 3
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Terry Bogard The Hungry Wolf
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2 mos ago
@Terry Bogard
New one looks good, you have my approval.
waiting for @Letter Bee and his opinion
Aw, thanks! Sorry if I misunderstood a lot of stuff yesterday lol
Terry Bogard The Hungry Wolf
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2 mos ago
@Terry Bogard, Approval Two given. You can post now.
And thanks! Will be posting it on the Characters section ASAP
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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0-24 hrs ago
Tuan's player, Hyperion, has left; after a private talk, we have decided that his presence in my RP and its associated Discord Server won't serve either of us.
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Terry Bogard The Hungry Wolf
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2 mos ago
Tuan's player, Hyperion, has left; after a private talk, we have decided that his presence in my RP and its associated Discord Server won't serve either of us.
Ah, mb. That’s quite unfortunate.
But anyway, can I have Raja in the fifth mission if possible? I’m about to read the entirety of it after this.
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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0-24 hrs ago
<Snipped quote by Letter Bee>
Ah, mb. That’s quite unfortunate.
But anyway, can I have Raja in the fifth mission if possible? I’m about to read the entirety of it after this.
Yes. We can pretend he's been there all along.
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Terry Bogard The Hungry Wolf
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2 mos ago
<Snipped quote by Terry Bogard>
Yes. We can pretend he's been there all along.
Dope. I might like to discuss more details with you and the others regarding the fifth mission on Discord right after this. I’ll be working on my first post in no time.
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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<Snipped quote by Letter Bee>
Dope. I might like to discuss more details with you and the others regarding the fifth mission on Discord right after this. I’ll be working on my first post in no time.
Sure.
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ctrlsaltdel
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9 mos ago
Hey all--I'm so sorry, but real life responsibilities and general life pressure have caught up with me in such a way that it makes sense for me to take an indefinite hiatus from the board. I'm not sure when or if I'll be coming back, so please don't wait on me. Feel free to use my character in whatever way you like in my absence.
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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0-24 hrs ago
Hey all--I'm so sorry, but real life responsibilities and general life pressure have caught up with me in such a way that it makes sense for me to take an indefinite hiatus from the board. I'm not sure when or if I'll be coming back, so please don't wait on me. Feel free to use my character in whatever way you like in my absence.
Thank you; it means a lot you told us.
Ducksworth Quack.
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11 hrs ago
My second character for your consideration!
V.2!
V.2!
 | _______________________________________________ LEVI ORIENKO LEVI ORIENKO Name: Levi Orienko Faction: Independent Rank: - Nationality: Ukrainian Age: 17 Sex: Male Height: 5'6" Weight: 132lbs (60kg) Eyes: Green-gold Physique: Wiry, scarred, restless Hair: Deep brown Skin: pale Colour: c2b280 |
N O B L E A R M & A P P E A R A N C E :
N O B L E A R M & A P P E A R A N C E :
N O B L E A R M & A P P E A R A N C E :
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Kami-Kunai (aka as White Fang, Belyy Klyk (russian)) - Levi’s Noble Arm takes the form of a Kunai folded from pale paper. Its surface is matte and smooth, yet the edges taper to impossibly sharp creases. Every line of the blade and handle carries the geometry of a fold, as if it had been shaped by careful, deliberate hands. The material looks fragile, too light to harm, thin like notebook stock, weightless in the air, yet it carries itself with the gravity of steel. In hand, it balances perfectly, never bending, never tearing. When light catches its surface, the seams gleam faintly with a slightly metallic shine.
N O B L E A R M R A N K :
N O B L E A R M R A N K :
N O B L E A R M R A N K :
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- Power: D
- Speed: B
- Range: B
- Persistence: A
- Precision: D
- Potential: B
N O B L E A R M T Y P E, E L E M E N T, & R A N G E :
N O B L E A R M T Y P E, E L E M E N T, & R A N G E :
N O B L E A R M T Y P E, E L E M E N T, & R A N G E :
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- Type: Ranged/Utility/Support
- Element: Origami
- Range: Medium/long
N O B L E A R M A B I L I T I E S :
N O B L E A R M A B I L I T I E S :
N O B L E A R M A B I L I T I E S :
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- Duplication
- Kami-Kunai can be duplicated and controlled just like the original, being able to be shaped and modified as willed by Levi.
- Shape and Form
- Can be folded, bent, and refolded into such shapes as birds, blades, sheets, ropes, masks, keys, etc.
- Forms behave as expected - Bird flaps/flies, rope can tighten, etc.
- Shapes can change mid-use - Birds turning to sheet etc.
- Control and Command
- Has intuitive awareness of everything the forms touch, see, or hear, like extensions of his own senses
- He does not need to maintain line of sight to manipulate his forms
M I S C A B I L I T I E S :
M I S C A B I L I T I E S :
M I S C A B I L I T I E S :
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- Able to speak Ukrainian natively, Russian due to his time in capture, and English
- Birdwatching
- Observation - He's always watching. Small details like nervous tics, weight shifts, patterns, rarely escape him.
P E R S O N A L I T Y :
P E R S O N A L I T Y :
P E R S O N A L I T Y :
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Levi is first and foremost an observer. His eyes never stop moving, tracing patterns in behavior, in sounds, in shadows. Years of captivity carved into him the habit of noticing everything, because survival often depended on it. He is guarded to the point of severity, speaking little and offering even less of himself. What words he does share are sharp, deliberate, and efficient, often carrying the clipped cadence of a second language. In English he tends toward simple phrasing, dropping articles here and there but never fumbling. He rarely contracts words, preferring directness over fluency. In his native Ukrainian or in Russian, he is smoother, more fluid, but he seldom has reason to use them.
Despite his silence, Levi is not empty. Beneath the taut surface lives a restless creativity, the echo of the boy who once made birds to perch on his shoulders and paper planes to dance in the air. His mind still bends that way, endlessly inventing, reshaping, improvising. He can see ten ways through a problem where others see only one. Yet this creativity carries a shadow: he is haunted by the memory of when his toys became weapons. Sometimes he indulges in childlike play, a bird resting on his hand, a kite drifting in the wind, but guilt follows swiftly, as if he is not allowed to be a child any longer.
Trauma left him resilient, but it also left him raw. He flinches at the sound of footsteps in hallways, recoils from chains, and dreads confinement above all else. Pain itself does not frighten him, he endured too much of it in captivity to be cowed by it now, but the thought of helplessness, of waking up caged once again, terrifies him more than death. This fear lives under his skin like a quiet vibration, always humming. His body never quite relaxes; his stance is always a little too tense, his shoulders a little too drawn. He rarely sits still. Fingers tap, fold, or twist bits of paper unconsciously. His sleep is shallow, broken at the smallest sound.
Socially, Levi is polite in a detached way, as if manners are armor rather than kindness. He rarely engages warmly, though he is not openly rude unless pushed. Trust comes slow, if at all. Authority especially makes him wary; uniforms and orders are just chains in another form. Still, he is not joyless. Every so often a dry, almost sardonic humor slips through in a wry remark. When it does, it’s darker than expected from a boy of seventeen, but it reveals a quick wit and a tongue that knows how to cut.
To strangers, Levi feels unsettling. There is something too sharp-eyed, too poised in him for someone his age. To allies, he is useful and loyal if that trust is earned, but difficult to draw close. To enemies, he is ghostlike, hard to catch, hard to see, his presence often felt more than it is witnessed. To himself, he is a paradox. He is both the child who longs to play and the survivor who can never afford to. He is both the creator and the weapon. Like his Noble Arm, he folds himself into whatever form is needed, holding the shape as long as survival demands.
Despite his silence, Levi is not empty. Beneath the taut surface lives a restless creativity, the echo of the boy who once made birds to perch on his shoulders and paper planes to dance in the air. His mind still bends that way, endlessly inventing, reshaping, improvising. He can see ten ways through a problem where others see only one. Yet this creativity carries a shadow: he is haunted by the memory of when his toys became weapons. Sometimes he indulges in childlike play, a bird resting on his hand, a kite drifting in the wind, but guilt follows swiftly, as if he is not allowed to be a child any longer.
Trauma left him resilient, but it also left him raw. He flinches at the sound of footsteps in hallways, recoils from chains, and dreads confinement above all else. Pain itself does not frighten him, he endured too much of it in captivity to be cowed by it now, but the thought of helplessness, of waking up caged once again, terrifies him more than death. This fear lives under his skin like a quiet vibration, always humming. His body never quite relaxes; his stance is always a little too tense, his shoulders a little too drawn. He rarely sits still. Fingers tap, fold, or twist bits of paper unconsciously. His sleep is shallow, broken at the smallest sound.
Socially, Levi is polite in a detached way, as if manners are armor rather than kindness. He rarely engages warmly, though he is not openly rude unless pushed. Trust comes slow, if at all. Authority especially makes him wary; uniforms and orders are just chains in another form. Still, he is not joyless. Every so often a dry, almost sardonic humor slips through in a wry remark. When it does, it’s darker than expected from a boy of seventeen, but it reveals a quick wit and a tongue that knows how to cut.
To strangers, Levi feels unsettling. There is something too sharp-eyed, too poised in him for someone his age. To allies, he is useful and loyal if that trust is earned, but difficult to draw close. To enemies, he is ghostlike, hard to catch, hard to see, his presence often felt more than it is witnessed. To himself, he is a paradox. He is both the child who longs to play and the survivor who can never afford to. He is both the creator and the weapon. Like his Noble Arm, he folds himself into whatever form is needed, holding the shape as long as survival demands.
L I K E S :
L I K E S :
L I K E S :
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- Birds
- Quiet places
- The wind
- Firelight
- Small, harmless tricks
- Music
- Autumn
D I S L I K E S :
D I S L I K E S :
D I S L I K E S :
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- Enclosed spaces
- authority figures
- bright lights
- cruelty
F E A R S :
F E A R S :
F E A R S :
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- Confinement
- Being forgotten
- Attachment
- Being made to be a weapon
B I O G R A P H Y :
B I O G R A P H Y :
B I O G R A P H Y :
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Levi was born in Ukraine, in a small town where his earliest memories are of wind, fields, and the sound of birds at dawn. His family was ordinary, not rich, not poor, and he was an ordinary boy until the age of nine. That was when he awakened his Noble Arm.
His father had died only weeks before, and the house felt heavy with grief. One afternoon, Levi watched Naruto with his younger cousins while his mother struggled with calls about the estate. When he found her crying at the kitchen table, he felt something shift inside him. He was only a child, but in that moment he decided he had to be the one to hold the family together. The thought clenched like a fist, and when he looked down, there was a kunai in his hand, solid, gleaming, real.
Startled, he ran to his cousins and showed them. They gasped with delight and begged for their own. So he tore sheets of paper and began folding, making clumsy little replicas to hand out. Kunai, shuriken, birds, planes, his cousins laughed, and soon Levi laughed with them. What began as a single weapon became play, and the play shaped the weapon in return. By the end of that year, his Noble Arm no longer appeared as cold steel alone, but as folded shapes that could cut, fly, or cling as his will directed. It was his toy, his secret, his wonder.
But Noble Arms are rare, and their bearers are valuable. It did not take long for word to spread, and where word spreads, so does war. Soldiers came, not from his homeland but from across the border, men with hard eyes and foreign commands. Levi was taken. He was only nine.
The years that followed blurred into one long captivity. A cell became his world, its walls closing in on him. Guards and handlers sought to break him, to twist his plaything into a weapon. They hurt him, starved him, demanded he use the folded blades to kill, to scout, to sabotage. Sometimes he refused, sometimes he obeyed. Each time he resisted, he paid in blood and bruises. Each time he obeyed, he lost a little more of himself. He learned quickly that silence was safer than defiance, that patience was stronger than rage.
Even in hell, he played. Quietly, in corners, he folded birds and kites when no one was looking. They were his secret, his reminder that he was still a boy. But play became survival. The kunai that once awoke in his hand had become many shapes now, shuriken, sheets, nets, birds, tools that fed him, shielded him, or bled others at his captors’ command. The origami was no longer just play; it was the only language he had left.
At fifteen, Levi escaped. It was not a single daring act but a long preparation, a slow burn. For months he tested locks with paper picks, memorized guard routines through the eyes of his birds, and mapped vents and exits. When the moment came, he struck without hesitation. A sheet smothered one guard, a shard slit the throat of another, and another... His folded blades blurred cameras, riled up dogs, and cut open fences. Alarms rang behind him, but the forest ahead was quiet. For the first time in six years, he was free.
Now seventeen, Levi is still carrying the boy he once was and the survivor he became. He does not fully belong to either. To most, he is unnerving, a teenager with eyes too sharp, too still, shaped by suffering. To himself, he is something stranger: a creator whose creations kill, a child who learned to play with death. He walks with it always at hand. His story is still being written, one fold at a time.
His father had died only weeks before, and the house felt heavy with grief. One afternoon, Levi watched Naruto with his younger cousins while his mother struggled with calls about the estate. When he found her crying at the kitchen table, he felt something shift inside him. He was only a child, but in that moment he decided he had to be the one to hold the family together. The thought clenched like a fist, and when he looked down, there was a kunai in his hand, solid, gleaming, real.
Startled, he ran to his cousins and showed them. They gasped with delight and begged for their own. So he tore sheets of paper and began folding, making clumsy little replicas to hand out. Kunai, shuriken, birds, planes, his cousins laughed, and soon Levi laughed with them. What began as a single weapon became play, and the play shaped the weapon in return. By the end of that year, his Noble Arm no longer appeared as cold steel alone, but as folded shapes that could cut, fly, or cling as his will directed. It was his toy, his secret, his wonder.
But Noble Arms are rare, and their bearers are valuable. It did not take long for word to spread, and where word spreads, so does war. Soldiers came, not from his homeland but from across the border, men with hard eyes and foreign commands. Levi was taken. He was only nine.
The years that followed blurred into one long captivity. A cell became his world, its walls closing in on him. Guards and handlers sought to break him, to twist his plaything into a weapon. They hurt him, starved him, demanded he use the folded blades to kill, to scout, to sabotage. Sometimes he refused, sometimes he obeyed. Each time he resisted, he paid in blood and bruises. Each time he obeyed, he lost a little more of himself. He learned quickly that silence was safer than defiance, that patience was stronger than rage.
Even in hell, he played. Quietly, in corners, he folded birds and kites when no one was looking. They were his secret, his reminder that he was still a boy. But play became survival. The kunai that once awoke in his hand had become many shapes now, shuriken, sheets, nets, birds, tools that fed him, shielded him, or bled others at his captors’ command. The origami was no longer just play; it was the only language he had left.
At fifteen, Levi escaped. It was not a single daring act but a long preparation, a slow burn. For months he tested locks with paper picks, memorized guard routines through the eyes of his birds, and mapped vents and exits. When the moment came, he struck without hesitation. A sheet smothered one guard, a shard slit the throat of another, and another... His folded blades blurred cameras, riled up dogs, and cut open fences. Alarms rang behind him, but the forest ahead was quiet. For the first time in six years, he was free.
Now seventeen, Levi is still carrying the boy he once was and the survivor he became. He does not fully belong to either. To most, he is unnerving, a teenager with eyes too sharp, too still, shaped by suffering. To himself, he is something stranger: a creator whose creations kill, a child who learned to play with death. He walks with it always at hand. His story is still being written, one fold at a time.
C U R R E N T G O A L :
C U R R E N T G O A L :
C U R R E N T G O A L :
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- To remain free and never be caged again.
- To free those who are caged where he can.
- Find meaning beyond survival
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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0-24 hrs ago
@Ducksworth, Approval One. Now to make someone to be his boyfriend.
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Letter Bee Filipino RPer
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Appearance:
Height: 5'7|Weight 65kg
Height: 5'7|Weight 65kg
Name: Barham Mainyu (Free Spirit in Persian), birth name Barham Cooper
Age: 17
Nationality: Iranian (Exile)
Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Tavar Tabus (Peacock Axe), as in the picture.
Noble Arm Rank:
Power: B
Speed: C
Range: D (S; C or sometimes B when using Rainbow-colored Flash)
Persistence: A
Precision: C
Potential: C
Speed: C
Range: D (S; C or sometimes B when using Rainbow-colored Flash)
Persistence: A
Precision: C
Potential: C
Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee, Electromagnetism (Light, Radio Waves, Electricity, and Magnetism), Close-range.
Noble Arm Abilities:
Rainbow Colored Flash - Bahram can create holographic projections of feathers around himself that explode into multicolored light; he has no other illusionary powers. This is one of his few ranged combat options unless he brings a gun.
Tap into Wireless - Bahram can intercept and decode wireless signals, whether radio or internet, thus allowing him to intercept communications.
Magnetic Repulsion - Bahram can control magnetic fields and turn them into a shield that protects him from solid objects and energy attacks alike; this bubble of force extends only a meter or two away from him.
EMP Axe! - Bahram's Axe can give off an electromagnetic pulse that can hurt humans, but is more damaging to electronics not specifically hardened or insulated against such a strike. And by that, Bahram is lethal against drones, electronic security systems, and vehicles... assuming he can hit them.
Misc Abilities: A skilled wielder of the battle axe, Bahram is also an artist (painter) and a singer, fluent in Farsi, English, Syriac (including the liturgical one used by Persian Christians), Greek, and Arabic. He is also a V-Tuber in his spare time. He is also a trained mercenary, competent in shooting, melee and unarmed combat, and survival in urban or rural environments.
Personality: Bahram was raised among mercenaries, and it shows. He believes that everyone, whether Arms Master or Non-Arms Master, has their worth, and that power or lack of it is no excuse for not contributing. By the same token, no one is confined to the place they start in, and no one should be; everyone should be given the chance to advance. The dark side of this is that he is frustrated and confused by those who are content with a 'subordinate' place in life, especially if they have the talent and drive to pursue a higher position. He sees contentment as the same as complacency, which will one day threaten the safety of the content.
An exception he makes is for trauma victims, those who have gone through horrors and lived nightmares, and thus deserve rest and reward for their sacrifices, especially ones they were not forced to make.
*Likes: Levi Orienko, Chocolates, Painting.
*Dislikes: Laziness, Complacency, Confinement.
Fears: A world where everyone is locked into 'their proper place'.
Bio: Bahram was born to two mercenaries in a Private Military Company called Broken Sword, whose founders, Dean and Parizade Fowler, believed that the differences between Arms Masters and Normal Folk can be bridged not by erasure, but by cooperation and the sharing of rewards. Arms Masters had magical powers, but Normal Folk had an underestimated advantage: the stability that came from being allowed to grow at one's own pace. By combining the strengths of both, Broken Sword can achieve results that most PMCs or even actual states would envy.
Thus, Bahram was raised to be ambitious, but also to contribute. Any hint of laziness was frowned on, but so was any hint of overwork. Bahram valued his free time as a result, and he dedicated it to painting, singing, and video games. This did not stop when he gained his Noble Arm, which in turn was after a surge of joy in learning that his parents had helped the company land a contract with the United Nations as an entity.
However, his Noble Arm started out weak, with its Potential being high, but locked behind... something. Nevertheless, Bahram proved to be useful in a support role, to the point where he served a key role in the destruction of the Nineveh Province of the Hammer of Masters' Malikate. Broken Sword proved the truth of their ideals then, breaking numerous Hammer and Disabler forces and eventually helping in the Great Purge that helped the Big Three destroy the Hammer of Masters and the Disablers as political and military forces.
Then his life changed further when, on a mission, he met Levi Orineko, who was surviving and also busting some sort of Russian installation or other. The circumstances were vague, but he and Levi worked together, he had a crush, and his Noble Arm grew stronger due to his experiences and realizing that he liked Levi, like, really liked him.
Now he wants to meet the Ukrainian again, and following rumors that the latter will be in the Philippines, he has asked to be sent to work together with him...
*Current Goal: Get Levi Orineko to join Broken Sword, also, have a date with him.
Military or Civilian Rank: Specialist.
*Optional
@Gerlando, @Ducksworth (As I made this character with his permission).
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Doll Maker I am the pestilence that walketh in darkness
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5 mos ago
Is this rp still open to new memebers?
1x Thank
Lloki Keep calm and ship Loki
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21 days ago
FINALLY, Lukas is HERE!
Thanks so much to @Ducksworth for helping me put this together! I really hope he will be accepted soon so we can start playing! I am super sleepy so I am going to bed now. Take care everyone!
Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Lukas’ Noble Arm is a razor sharp marble finger knife that glimmers faintly like labradorite. It comes with a black harness type of sheath that can manifest anywhere on his body, like his torso, legs and arms, making it a friend to its cause, namely discretion. Lukas named it Marble.
Noble Arm Rank: B(S)
Noble Arm Type: Adaptable mysticism. Psychic. Metamorphosis.
Enhancement: Lukas can momentarily(a duration of 15 min ish?)enhance his and others’ strength and speed. Can do this several times.
Tactile telepathy: With undisturbed touch and target failing mental resistance, unsuccessful mental resilience, Lukas can cipher through a person’s memories.
Illusions: The ability to make others see or experience things as real. Basically, Lukas’ psychic energy forms an imagined appearance on the surrounding surface, that will challenge the target/s psyche through their senses, f eks sight, taste, smell, hearing, touch.
Awareness of baleful intentions: This means simple mischievous pranks up to sinister scheming or actions.
Hypnosis: Lukas can attempt momentary control of another person through undisturbed eye contact. He can also simply leave a command behind. The victim’s mental resilience, Lukas’ concentration, length of eye contact, and setting they are in, contributes. Lukas needs more time with his target the more he asks of it.
Others:
Kinetic energy: Create barriers and projectiles with kinetic energy.
Bodymorph: Alter his body shape or form. Depending on the amount of change it takes more or less time. Changing to another humanoid takes about 30 seconds.
Personality:
Composed, brave, and cunning. Thoughtful, witty, and friendly. Prideful.
Likes:
Playing games with friends. Partying. Hugs. A good hair gel. His Noble Arm. A hot aromabath. The children’s show: Inspector gadget. Peach fruit.
Dislikes:
Dry alcohol. Raisins. Being underestimated. Reality shows. Smugness.
Fears:
Locked in sterile isolation rooms. Being robbed of his senses.
________________________________________________________
Current Goal: Escape slavery
Black cell Rank: Covert Operative
Optional:
Knowledgeable; after years of espionage Lukas has intel on many things some people would kill to know.
Thanks so much to @Ducksworth for helping me put this together! I really hope he will be accepted soon so we can start playing! I am super sleepy so I am going to bed now. Take care everyone!
Lukas Lightbringer
| ______________________________ | ____________________ | ________________________________________________________ Height: 187 cm Weight: 86 kg Name: Lukas/Lyanna Lightbringer Gender: bigender Age: 25 Sexuality: Attracted to males Nationality:Norwegian Faction:- Blood type: A Birthday: 09.12.1997 Western Zodiac: Virgo Eastern Zodiac: Ox |
Lukas Lightbringer has Scandinavian fair skin, and blue eyes. Raven black hair, and handsome features. He’s athletic and lean.
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Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Lukas’ Noble Arm is a razor sharp marble finger knife that glimmers faintly like labradorite. It comes with a black harness type of sheath that can manifest anywhere on his body, like his torso, legs and arms, making it a friend to its cause, namely discretion. Lukas named it Marble.
Noble Arm Rank: B(S)
Power: B
Speed: B
Range: D
Persistence: B
Precision: B
Potential: C(S- Condition to be met: Necessity+desperation, with some alignment with his theme)
Speed: B
Range: D
Persistence: B
Precision: B
Potential: C(S- Condition to be met: Necessity+desperation, with some alignment with his theme)
Noble Arm Type: Adaptable mysticism. Psychic. Metamorphosis.
Abilities
Abilities that require touch:
Enhancement: Lukas can momentarily(a duration of 15 min ish?)enhance his and others’ strength and speed. Can do this several times.
Tactile telepathy: With undisturbed touch and target failing mental resistance, unsuccessful mental resilience, Lukas can cipher through a person’s memories.
Range of 50 meters abilities:
Illusions: The ability to make others see or experience things as real. Basically, Lukas’ psychic energy forms an imagined appearance on the surrounding surface, that will challenge the target/s psyche through their senses, f eks sight, taste, smell, hearing, touch.
Awareness of baleful intentions: This means simple mischievous pranks up to sinister scheming or actions.
Close range abilities:
Hypnosis: Lukas can attempt momentary control of another person through undisturbed eye contact. He can also simply leave a command behind. The victim’s mental resilience, Lukas’ concentration, length of eye contact, and setting they are in, contributes. Lukas needs more time with his target the more he asks of it.
Others:
Kinetic energy: Create barriers and projectiles with kinetic energy.
Bodymorph: Alter his body shape or form. Depending on the amount of change it takes more or less time. Changing to another humanoid takes about 30 seconds.
Highly perceptive and deceptive.
Polyglot
Behavior Analyst
Knowledgeable about human anatomy, and first aid
Musical
Breaking into places or things. Or brains, lololol.
Hacking
Acrobatic
Swimming, and holding his breath for 5 min
Improvising weapons
Wielding barrots, handguns, knives and snipers.
Close combat: Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, Hapkido and Krav Maga.
Pool
Dart
Card Games
Pranks.
Polyglot
Behavior Analyst
Knowledgeable about human anatomy, and first aid
Musical
Breaking into places or things. Or brains, lololol.
Hacking
Acrobatic
Swimming, and holding his breath for 5 min
Improvising weapons
Wielding barrots, handguns, knives and snipers.
Close combat: Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, Hapkido and Krav Maga.
Pool
Dart
Card Games
Pranks.
Personality:
Composed, brave, and cunning. Thoughtful, witty, and friendly. Prideful.
Likes:
Playing games with friends. Partying. Hugs. A good hair gel. His Noble Arm. A hot aromabath. The children’s show: Inspector gadget. Peach fruit.
Dislikes:
Dry alcohol. Raisins. Being underestimated. Reality shows. Smugness.
Fears:
Locked in sterile isolation rooms. Being robbed of his senses.
________________________________________________________
Bio:
Lukas was abducted from a bad neighborhood at age 13, as one of many children meant to manifest their Noble Arms for the service of their kidnappers.
After being groomed into settling at the new “training center”, and threatened into cooperating, Lukas did not complain. He had regular meals, better housing, and ambitious schooling. With inspirational, however mean, superiors, and a few close friends, however different, Lukas was close to thriving. He endured three years of increasingly harsh treatment, as he failed to manifest his NA again and again. It was not until someone else, with the same interests, infiltrated the facility. They proved far worse, but they made Lukas develop his NA right away. Upon arrival, they already pushed Lukas into a decision of saving himself by murdering his two closest friends.
On their way out, Lukas was given an underlying message to murder his new commander. Confused and frightened about why, and why they took him forcefully even though he had surrendered his service to them, Lukas finally understood. As there were cameras in the exit wing, he, for some reason, needed to make it look like he was still loyal to the training center that had first kidnapped him. Shocked at the faith the new commander had in him, and terrified of why he risked his life, Lukas was both sad and relieved after murdering him. The sixteen year old could only hope his new faction would approve of his actions. Leaving the corpses behind after a small panic attack, Lukas considered his option of complete freedom. What if he just ran, and didn’t abide by any of their wishes? Terrified of who or what would come next however, Lukas carefully continued down the hallways with the stolen handgun.
He’d moved faster than he’d ever thought he could. He’d sliced his friends’ throats in cold blood, with a small knife that had appeared out of nowhere, at the moment he had made the terrible decision. “The last one standing comes with us,” they’d been told. For some reason Lukas knew they would not change their minds about setting the unarmed teens up against each other, so Lukas took it upon himself to make the swift decision, for them, and himself. It surprised Lukas when he realized he’d just developed his NA, a small shiny black finger knife, when on standby resting in a hidden sheath under his clothes. Fear of the new commander’s intentions made it vanish, but when discreetly told to fight the mercenaries, it manifested again, however secretly, so Lukas could focus on wringing free before using the men’s weight and weapons against them. After slipping out of their grips, and grabbing a gun before falling with his back to the floor, Lukas shot them one by one.
The fatherly smile of encouragement haunted Lukas’ mind as he looked out for more mercenaries. He had shot the commander twice because of it. Once with obedience, and lastly with horror.
Lukas realized he could further lean on his ability to deceive. He tricked the next enemies into thinking the infiltration had failed, and used his state of shock to make them underestimate him. He shot them, and moved on after dropping the guns on their corpses. What more could he do? He wondered. It seemed it came to him as he went on. Something was stirring. He started to feel unstoppable. What more could he do?
The next men who came running were guards from the facility, who knew Lukas as a student. They had managed to come to his aid. Lukas used their concern to his advantage, and as a seemingly lost and frightened student, he started leading them towards the gym, where his first murders had happened. He noticed their knives tucked nicely against their hips while walking between them. Finding the opportunity too easy, Lukas easily grabbed them, and stuck them deep into each soldier’s side. Their groans did not bother him. It had started to become music to his ears. He smiled with an ominous feeling of power, and sliced their bellies open before watching them fall to the floor before him.
In a state of madness Lukas dropped the knives and chuckled erratically out of breath. He can’t recall much after that, only vague memories of shots being fired at him once outside in the dark, and that lifting his arms blocked bullets by forming an invisible shield. He remembers confusion when looking up, noticing he was unharmed, except for a shot to his left arm. The excessive use of his newly manifested Noble Arm made him pass out from exhaustion. Vague memories of people scrambling to take him away carries into flashes of street lights, and the inside of a makeshift ambulance.
What followed was indeed ten times, if not more, worse. For three more years he was interrogated, experimented on, groomed, brainwashed and tortured, in between honest attempts at honing his NA powers. He cooperated as much as his personal agenda allowed him. His personal agenda was simply to keep anything he could, to himself. Anything at all. He played around with half truths to hone his deceiving ability, which seemed to please his new commander. The two formed a complicated bond, as none lowered their guard, while also finding a twisted form of familiarity in each other. He was forced to call him “Dad”, “Father,” or “Sir”. The terrifyingly cunning man was there to make sure Lukas was well trained, content, and within their grasp, under their control. Lukas grew bitter and resentful, yet strived for the small amounts of approval he could only get from his “Father.”
It was at 19 years old Lukas settled with and accepted he was to be a weapon. An agent. A spy. Assassin. Tool. Following orders was his reason to live. He got so used to surviving the game that he stopped caring whether it was for bad or good. He went on undercover missions that lasted for weeks, months and one time, almost a year. He was celebrated to the point of jealousy from his peers. No one of them truly liked Lukas. He was more alone than ever, and material goods stopped pleasing him. At age 22 he was sent on his biggest mission yet. It was a long term mole operation, where Lukas was meant to be a spy for the enemy. Double agency. Lukas never got any real friends because of this, which worked for both sides.
Now Lukas Lightbringer is only waiting for a signal. A message. The 25 year old internally hopes to be free one day, or to have someone nicer to be his superior.
Lukas was abducted from a bad neighborhood at age 13, as one of many children meant to manifest their Noble Arms for the service of their kidnappers.
After being groomed into settling at the new “training center”, and threatened into cooperating, Lukas did not complain. He had regular meals, better housing, and ambitious schooling. With inspirational, however mean, superiors, and a few close friends, however different, Lukas was close to thriving. He endured three years of increasingly harsh treatment, as he failed to manifest his NA again and again. It was not until someone else, with the same interests, infiltrated the facility. They proved far worse, but they made Lukas develop his NA right away. Upon arrival, they already pushed Lukas into a decision of saving himself by murdering his two closest friends.
On their way out, Lukas was given an underlying message to murder his new commander. Confused and frightened about why, and why they took him forcefully even though he had surrendered his service to them, Lukas finally understood. As there were cameras in the exit wing, he, for some reason, needed to make it look like he was still loyal to the training center that had first kidnapped him. Shocked at the faith the new commander had in him, and terrified of why he risked his life, Lukas was both sad and relieved after murdering him. The sixteen year old could only hope his new faction would approve of his actions. Leaving the corpses behind after a small panic attack, Lukas considered his option of complete freedom. What if he just ran, and didn’t abide by any of their wishes? Terrified of who or what would come next however, Lukas carefully continued down the hallways with the stolen handgun.
He’d moved faster than he’d ever thought he could. He’d sliced his friends’ throats in cold blood, with a small knife that had appeared out of nowhere, at the moment he had made the terrible decision. “The last one standing comes with us,” they’d been told. For some reason Lukas knew they would not change their minds about setting the unarmed teens up against each other, so Lukas took it upon himself to make the swift decision, for them, and himself. It surprised Lukas when he realized he’d just developed his NA, a small shiny black finger knife, when on standby resting in a hidden sheath under his clothes. Fear of the new commander’s intentions made it vanish, but when discreetly told to fight the mercenaries, it manifested again, however secretly, so Lukas could focus on wringing free before using the men’s weight and weapons against them. After slipping out of their grips, and grabbing a gun before falling with his back to the floor, Lukas shot them one by one.
The fatherly smile of encouragement haunted Lukas’ mind as he looked out for more mercenaries. He had shot the commander twice because of it. Once with obedience, and lastly with horror.
Lukas realized he could further lean on his ability to deceive. He tricked the next enemies into thinking the infiltration had failed, and used his state of shock to make them underestimate him. He shot them, and moved on after dropping the guns on their corpses. What more could he do? He wondered. It seemed it came to him as he went on. Something was stirring. He started to feel unstoppable. What more could he do?
The next men who came running were guards from the facility, who knew Lukas as a student. They had managed to come to his aid. Lukas used their concern to his advantage, and as a seemingly lost and frightened student, he started leading them towards the gym, where his first murders had happened. He noticed their knives tucked nicely against their hips while walking between them. Finding the opportunity too easy, Lukas easily grabbed them, and stuck them deep into each soldier’s side. Their groans did not bother him. It had started to become music to his ears. He smiled with an ominous feeling of power, and sliced their bellies open before watching them fall to the floor before him.
In a state of madness Lukas dropped the knives and chuckled erratically out of breath. He can’t recall much after that, only vague memories of shots being fired at him once outside in the dark, and that lifting his arms blocked bullets by forming an invisible shield. He remembers confusion when looking up, noticing he was unharmed, except for a shot to his left arm. The excessive use of his newly manifested Noble Arm made him pass out from exhaustion. Vague memories of people scrambling to take him away carries into flashes of street lights, and the inside of a makeshift ambulance.
What followed was indeed ten times, if not more, worse. For three more years he was interrogated, experimented on, groomed, brainwashed and tortured, in between honest attempts at honing his NA powers. He cooperated as much as his personal agenda allowed him. His personal agenda was simply to keep anything he could, to himself. Anything at all. He played around with half truths to hone his deceiving ability, which seemed to please his new commander. The two formed a complicated bond, as none lowered their guard, while also finding a twisted form of familiarity in each other. He was forced to call him “Dad”, “Father,” or “Sir”. The terrifyingly cunning man was there to make sure Lukas was well trained, content, and within their grasp, under their control. Lukas grew bitter and resentful, yet strived for the small amounts of approval he could only get from his “Father.”
It was at 19 years old Lukas settled with and accepted he was to be a weapon. An agent. A spy. Assassin. Tool. Following orders was his reason to live. He got so used to surviving the game that he stopped caring whether it was for bad or good. He went on undercover missions that lasted for weeks, months and one time, almost a year. He was celebrated to the point of jealousy from his peers. No one of them truly liked Lukas. He was more alone than ever, and material goods stopped pleasing him. At age 22 he was sent on his biggest mission yet. It was a long term mole operation, where Lukas was meant to be a spy for the enemy. Double agency. Lukas never got any real friends because of this, which worked for both sides.
Now Lukas Lightbringer is only waiting for a signal. A message. The 25 year old internally hopes to be free one day, or to have someone nicer to be his superior.
Current Goal: Escape slavery
Black cell Rank: Covert Operative
Optional:
Knowledgeable; after years of espionage Lukas has intel on many things some people would kill to know.
3x Like
GM
Letter Bee Filipino RPer
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
@LladyLloki. Approval One given. We'll talk more about Lukas' faction later.
Lloki Keep calm and ship Loki
Member
Seen
21 days ago
1x Like
coGM
Gerlando The Unchosen One
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
@Ducksworth
sorry for the delay, Levi is officially accepted
sorry for the delay, Levi is officially accepted
1x Like
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