R A C E : Tabaxi C L A S S : Rogue A R C H E T Y P E : - A L I G N M E N T : Chaotic Good B A C K G R O U N D : Pirate
S A V I N G T H R O W S
s t r e n g t h
prof. d e x t e r i t y prof.
c o n s t i t u t i o n
prof. i n t e l l i g e n c e prof.
w i s d o m
c h a r i s m a
S K I L L S
prof. a c r o b a t i c s prof.
a n i m a l h a n d l i n g
a r c a n a
prof. a t h l e t i c s prof.
prof. d e c e p t i o n prof.
h i s t o r y
S K I L L S
i n s i g h t
i n t i m i d a t i o n
prof. i n v e s t i g a t i o n prof.
m e d i c i n e
n a t u r e
prof. p e r c e p t i o n prof.
S K I L L S
p e r f o r m a n c e
prof. p e r s u a s i o n prof.
r e l i g i o n
exp. s l e i g h t o f h a n d exp.
prof. s t e a l t h prof.
s u r v i v a l
P R O F I C I E N C I E S A R M O R : light W E A P O N : crossbow · hand · longsword · rapier · shortsword · simple weapons T O O L S : navigator's tools · exp. thieves' tools · vehicles (water) L A N G U A G E S : common · undercommon · thieves' cant
A T T A C K S U N A R M E D S T R I K E 5 · +3 · 2 b l u d g e o n i n g C L A W S 5 · +3 · 1d4+1 s l a s h i n g D A G G E R 20(60) · +5 · 1d4+3 p i e r c i n g R A P I E R 5 · +5 · 1d8+3 p i e r c i n g
F E A T U R E S E X P E R T I S E (class)
Proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check made for two chosen proficiencies (sleight of hand, thieves' tools).
S N E A K A T T A C K (class)
Once per turn, deal an extra 1d6 damage to one creature hit with an attack with a finesse or ranged weapon if there is advantage on the attack roll. Advantage is not required on the attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 ft. of it, that enemy isn’t incapacitated, and there is no disadvantage on the attack roll.
T H I E V E S ' C A N T (class)
Learn thieves’ cant, a secret mix of dialect, jargon, and code that allows for hidden messages in seemingly normal conversation. It takes four times longer to convey such a message than it does to speak the same idea plainly.
D A R K V I S I O N (race)
See in darkness (shades of gray) up to 60 ft.
F E L I N E A G I L I T Y (race)
When moving during combat, move speed can be doubled until the end of the turn. Once used, this trait can’t be used again until a turn has been spent with 0 movement.
C A T ' S C L A W S (race)
Climbing speed increased to 20 ft. and claws are natural weapons that deal 1d4 +1 slashing damage, instead of the normal bludgeoning damage for an unarmed strike.
C A T ' S T A L E N T (race)
Proficiency in the Perception and Stealth skills.
B A D R E P U T A T I O N (background)
No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a civilized settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.
P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T
Mist stretches the truth for the sake of a good story.
I D E A L S (neutral)
People. He's committed to the people he can call friends and not to the ideals of the lifestyle he may or may not be emulating.
B O N D S
He has a paramour, somewhere, whose eyes nearly stole him... or maybe she did.
F L A W S
He can’t help but pocket loose coins and other trinkets he comes across.
O B S E S S I O N (race)
His curiosity is currently fixed on a location.
Q U I R K S (race)
Mist is a font of random trivia from the lore and stories he's discovered.
H I S T O R Y
Most of Mist's life has been on the move. In fact, all of it has. His mother gave birth to him while travelling. His friends were made and forgotten in single days. His first theft was from a shop in a town ten miles away from where his family had decided to finally stay... and subsequently left because of him. The last time he was ever 'home' was at the age of 9 when he'd let himself wander for too long and fallen in the arms of men less benevolent than the ones he knew.
Life only sped up from there. Forced to work to make up for the items he'd attempted to make off with. Work he was only too happy to oblige when the alternative was losing an arm. When business began to fail, he was sold off to help keep some place he didn't really care about afloat. His buyers cleaned him up, taught him some minor life lessons... and then let him get kidnapped?
Life on a ship was odd... but fascinating to the young boy and he very quickly acclimated to a world that was constantly on the edge. He learned to sail. Learned to navigate. Learn his way around every inch of his seaworthy vessel. Learned to read the weather. Learned to read the sky. Learned to read the people around him. He was a natural with others. Quick with his tongue and knew how to spin a good tale as his life had already begun as one. Seeing the world also helped add a lot of flavor. Being good with people also meant he held all the cards when it came to information.
Information that would lead him to a woman, to fortune and eventually... crewless.
He's let himself wander again and found himself... here.
E Q U I P M E N T 0 bp 0 sp 10 gp 0 pp
A R R O W S x20 B A C K P A C K B A L L B E A R I N G S x1000 B E L L C A N D L E C L O T H E S (common) C R O W B A R D A G G E R x2 H A M M E R L A N T E R N , H O O D E D L E A T H E R O I L , F L A S K x2 P I T O N x10 R A P I E R R A T I O N S ( 1 D A Y ) x5 R O P E , H E M P E N (50 feet) R O P E , S I L K (50 feet) S H O R T B O W S T R I N G x10 T H I E V E S ' T O O L S T I N D E R B O X W A T E R S K I N
G E N D E R : Female A G E : 21 H E I G H T : 5'8" S P E C I E S : Tiefling
A L I G N M E N T : Lawful Good
A P P E A R A N C E :
A rather odd looking tiefling, Sana is tall and lithe. Tinged pink. Her horns have been filed down and shaped in such a way that they became uniform. They were then dipped in gold by her denomination to better represent her church. Her hair is of a natural pink color with golden highlights and her eyes are naturally a pale milky white.
Her vestment is fitted and dark in color to represent the home of her deity. It follows tightly the contours of her body down to her waist where it then flairs out and opens at the front before dropping to the ground, the hem coming to within inches of the ground. The lining on the inside is reminiscent of a starry sky and if one were to look closely enough, they'll notice the stray light catching on minuscule reflective stitching, like spots of light not unlike stars in a constellation. This vestment with some edges adorned in gold, sits on top of a chain shirt hidden from view.
During the day, Sana will pull her hood up. This hood has slits cut into it which allow it to be pulled past her horns. It's then secured in place with a clasp.
Dark leather breeches and boots provides a measure of protection and comfort and finishes off her look. A shoulder holster tucked under her vestment, but within easy reach, holds two daggers. A scabbard holds a rapier to her hip.
Song of Rest While out of combat, Sana can play a myriad of soothing tunes with her Lyre, the melody imbued with the healing magics of her deity. During this time, smaller wounds begin to slowly heal. The effect takes at ten minutes of play and continues until the music is interrupted.
Steps of the Brave passive When in the cover of night, in darkness or in dim light, Sana is blessed by her deity with an inner strength and resolve. She can move much faster and cannot be frightened or caught off guard. Additionally, she is able to see in this darkness or dim light without aid.
During the day, this strength and resolve wanes bordering on being sapped. She often wears a hood at this time to ease this effect and help her feel closer to Celestian, a decision that heavily impedes her perception.
Twilight Sanctuary Striking a specific note on her Lyre will ignite a number of etched runes on the instrument. For the next few minutes, a sphere emanates from Sana that is filled with dim light. This sphere keeps Sana at it's center, following her if she moves.
Allies within this sphere are granted protection against the next attack in the form of a dimly lit aura that surrounds their body. After being struck, the aura will fade. Furthermore, small wounds are closed while inside this sphere and allies cannot be frightened.
Interrupting Sana during this time will end this effect.
Midnight Shroud passive Sana's particular flavor of the spell Darkness allows a number of her allies to see through the dark, allowing for attacks on blind enemies or, as the name suggests, a shroud to conceal themselves within without hindering their eyesight.
Divine Strike passive Having a strong connection to her deity allows Sana to imbue her blade with Celestian's power. At night, any weapon Sana wields that she's familiar with gives off a soft radiant glow. Attacks with this weapon are more potent than normal ones.
During the day when her connection is weakest, she loses this boon.
B R I E F H I S T O R Y :
Sana hails from a church of Celestian. A faith built around the god of knowledge, travel and the cosmos. A devout acolyte, she strives to build upon these cornerstones of her beliefs through the work she does in the aid of others. Missions to far away, unknown lands play a large part of this.
Word has recently reached her congregation of something dark and mysterious stirring in a land known as Barovia, a little known region to them. Sana has been sent to gather more information, give aid where she can and report back what she finds.
L U N A R A " L U N A " E D S E L L "Show me something." T H E M E
A G E : 25 S E X : Female E L E M E N T : None
A P P E A R A N C E :
Red, naturally curling hair that hangs to her mid back, framing a porcelain face of soft features and emerald eyes. She's quite beautiful, if she'll allow herself to admit it. Luna is trim. Lithe. Lively. Stands at an average 165cm. It isn't entirely noticeable under her thicker layers, but she's taken pains to care for her body.
Luna has always been one for comfort over anything else. On cold days, she's in a beanie, a hoodie, jeans and maybe boots. Colors don't always match but on a good day, they will. When the sun's embrace is strongest, she's content with a loose shirt, jeans again and slip-ons or sneakers.
H I S T O R Y :
Luna doesn't speak of home. Not often. She's more content in living in the now, capturing each new moment she experiences when she can. However, the clues pointing to her history hang in her little apartment in the city.
Paintings, done in her hand, meticulously recreate... the city of Goaling. Crowded and dirty and suffocating. A desert ocean. Vast yet abandoned. A golden sea threatening to spill from the frame and fill the entire room. A forest. Deep and dark and lonely. Light filtering through the canopy above illuminating the a world of lush green. An image of three individuals. Faces unremarkable and in matching garb. Two of the figures clearly adult and one smaller looking child. A boy.
Born to a poor family, one with little ambition to claw their way out of the little corner of the world they'd comfortably stuffed themselves into, Luna began life with eyes untrained to the color of the wider world. This would ultimately become the fuel to drive the life of a soul that never wavered in one place too long. Her appetite for the world was a ravenous one and her family recognized it immediately. When not at home, which was often enough, she could be found exploring the city. Memorizing the shops lining every dusty street. The smells of the bakery on the other side of town. The feel of the sand on her skin at the edge of the dessert to the north. The taste of water in the air in the forest to the south. The way her heart beat in her chest when she was chased into an alleyway by the Wulang boys... and how good it felt to scratch the smiles off both of their faces. Then, she'd take these memories and bring them home, spin a tale for a father and mother who were too weary by days end to find their own adventure. They loved her however, and wanted nothing more than to feed the spirit that would one day take her far away from them.
Their first gift to her was the most important of her life: A set of wax crayons. Six colors.
After studying to become a journalist, Luna moved to the city with the love of her life, her camera. She landed a job that allowed her the freedom to travel, see the world and continue to tell stories about life through her lens. Being an intern at Shinobi News Network was exactly where she wanted to be... for the most part.
She keeps the best stories to herself and her blog.
S Y L A R A " S Y L A R " C A S C A D A "Let's talk."
A G E : 24 S E X : Male H E I G H T : 5'11" W E I G H T : 155 H A I R C O L O R : Black E Y E C O L O R : Brown
S K I L L 1: Pick-pocket lvl 1 S K I L L 2: Precise Shot lvl 1 A B I L I T Y : None R E L I C : None
P E R S O N A L I T Y :
From the onset, Sylar is as callous as his men are cruel. On deck his demeanor is that befitting of his rank as captain of his ship. He's the authority that's meant to keep his men in line. The eyes meant to see ten steps ahead. The ears meant to pick up everything and the mind meant to shift through the rumors and find the truth. Being a pirate is one thing. The life of such, though hard, only becomes easier as one hardens himself. To be the captain of a crew of pirates however, your skin must be unbreakable. So Sylar is. Tough, unflinching in his rule. Unflinching in his judgement. Never second guessing himself and always sticking to his word. He's honorable in that sense but also feared in the same way. If he says he's going to do something... he will or die trying.
At least that's the facade he puts on while walking the deck.
Behind closed doors, Sylar becomes a little more aloof. Like an adult that hasn't completely grown out of being a child, a tendency made harder to avoid considering his age and that of the one person closest to him. When around Sybil, Sylar is truly himself... which means he's rather stupid. Sometimes forgetful. A little too curious and a little too excited to challenge those around him. Sometimes the word he intends to stick too leads him into trouble and it's Sybil who pulls him back and reminds him that he's only human. She's his guide and he's her shield.
H I S T O R Y :
Sylar began life at sea at a young age. Having been an orphaned child, he was picked up by a group of sailors looking for cheap labor with no ties or family to burden them. Sylar was the perfect choice, not only because he fit both those criteria but also because he actually wanted to work. A job meant life and a job on a boat meant a life of freedom. He acclimated himself to the jobs required of him rather quickly, picking up every manner of odd task from food service to look out to cleaning... everything. It was tough but he didn't care. He wanted to remain and so he constantly stove to prove that he belonged.
During one such voyage out at sea, Sylar discovered a stowaway. There in the lowest deck of the ship was a small redheaded girl with a peculiar bracelet around her wrist, a girl who'd managed to climb aboard during a visit to the mainland and remain unseen. It was no easy task to complete considering the size of the crew on board and yet, here she was, hunched over with a sack next to her and her eyes peering at him through the crimson of her hair. He didn't know it yet, but the burning feeling in his gut was the first spark of attraction.
What followed was a week of trying to keep her hidden. He would sneak food and water down to her. Keep her updated on where they were and how long it was before they made land fall. He'd promised to at the very least get her off the boat safely. Although these men were in the employ of the governed, they were still privateers and there was no telling what they'd do to Sybil if they found her. Of course, some of the more observant men of the crew noticed Sylar spending more time than usual below decks and eventually Sybil was discovered. Thanks to the girl's gift however, and unbeknownst to Sylar or anyone else, the crew was persuaded to take her in.
History would repeat itself five years later when their ship is over taken by pirates. The last two survivors after a rather bloody battle, the captain takes an interest in the both of them after having watched them prove themselves capable of surviving in fire. He adds them to the crew and fives years later is replaced by Sylar with Sybil as his first mate.
S E X : Male A G E : 20 H E I G H T : 5'11" S P E C I E S : Human
P H Y S I C A L A B N O R M A L I T I E S : Scarring reminiscent of a projectile entry point centered on the chest area. The single wound is a little less than an inch in diameter.
E X T R A : Volunteered. Nick is fairly good with a mandolin, likes his fruit, likes his drink, likes his women and knows his poisons. Is also new to the area and unless anyone is extremely well traveled, would not recognize his face.
D A M I E N A N N E L O U I S "You haven't lost yourself. Not yet." Theme
G E N D E R : Male A G E : 28 A L I G N M E N T : Guild R A N K : Lieutenant
B I R T H M A R K :
The mark starts from his left hip and climbs the length of the side of his body, the branches and leaves splaying across both his abdomen and lower chest and across parts of his back.
M A G I C : Classified
P E R S O N A L I T Y : Personable. Approachable. Friendly. Traits given the nature of his work outside the guild. Damien is charismatic but in such a way as to avoid arrogance. Confident as is needed given his rank within the guild and the leadership that is required of him. Nurturing due to all the above. These traits go hand in hand with a natural sense of focus and drive.
He's a Louis first and foremost. Heir to a family fortune and a legacy with which he has been trusted to uphold and continue. His work ethic reflects that. He's extremely business oriented. Is always looking toward the future and trying to solve today's problems from the inspiration he draws. Calculated and thoughtful with his decisions given that they tend to affect more than just himself.
H I S T O R Y : Born and raised in New York, New York. Damien has been a lieutenant of the guild since he was 25, a member since he was 14 and has been practicing to be a mage since he was the age of 9. As a Louis, it was expected of him since birth to follow in the footsteps of his family and take on the responsibility of protecting the world from the exposure of magic on their way of life. To do anything less was out of the question. As such, much of his youth was spent with his head in books, learning of the history of the world of the Magi and its use and disuse. Understanding its application in the development of modern technology and where its been applied today. Discovering what's next for magic and how to usher its ever changing presence into a less than tolerable world. It was this focus on studies that opened up the door for him to run the family business.
Outside the guild, Damien runs MELD, taking over as head from his father when he turned 20. Operations are hidden within Louis tower, a massive skyscraper which stretches toward the sky near the center of New York city, piercing through the horizon from every angle.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S :
O T H E R : MELD
Science was always a point of contention when it came to its involvement in magic, even before the art was pushed into the shadows and while most tried to keep the two separate, the Louis family realized that science would be the bridge to connect their two worlds. Medicine became their focus and over the course of a few centuries, they came to own the largest biomedical research and development corporation in the world, MELD. Damien's interests lie specifically with the development of advanced prostheses and the application of it's benefits within and without the Magi community.
J O H N D E L " J A Y " S T E R L I N G "War will pay for people and people will pay for relief from war.'" T H E M E
A G E : 17 S E X : Male S E X U A L I T Y : Heterosexual R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S : Single O C C U P A T I O N : Full Time Student / Aspiring Entrepenuer C L A S S : Junior C L I Q U E : TBD A P P E A R A N C E :
Short dark hair, heterochromia, just a sliver of facial hair to frame a strong chin. Jay has a lithe build and the subtle form of man who takes care of his body but doesn't make a sport of it. He's healthy, eats well and regularly works out thanks in part to his father's stressing a taste of the military life.
His clothes are usually neutral and dark. Black jeans most days and blue jeans or khakis the rest. When he's not in a shirt, he's in a button up and when he's not in a button up, he's got himself a sweater and a leather jacket.
W H O A M I
Q U I R K S :
D R E A M S :
Make his own shadow instead of living under one. Aspiring to follow his father and mother but at the same time, avoid becoming either of them. Be a living example that good can exist in the world without the expectation of something in return. That good can exist in the world without the need to lie to obtain it.
Dangerously close to becoming good at what his father does. He's a natural at it and ultimately he doesn't want to be. His greatest fear is the growing realization that he'll have to be the thing he hates.
Doesn't like closing his eyes when in the shower. He's learned early on that his imagination is unsettling detailed.
P A S T
H I S T O R Y :
Everything in Jay's world comes down to three things: War, lies and money. The three go hand in hand, feeding off one and consuming the other. Three points on a circle that can never stop spinning with Jay at the center. His father is head of "Sterling Group", the largest Private Military Company in the world. Based out of the US, the company has offices dotting the globe and contracts with the world's leading military. His mother is the founder of "Swan Song", an Outreach group specializing in countries torn apart by war. Missions typically reach out to the same countries Sterling Group is stationed for obvious reasons: People need to suffer before you can offer relief. That is the foundation for the Sterling Family's fortune. A religion that believes in one truth: War pays for people and people pay for relief from war. This is the life Jay is born into.
At age three, Jay learned early on that his parents would never be around. They traveled constantly, his father's work taking him to countries at war and his mother to the same countries after they'd torn themselves apart. Like clockwork the two of them were. When one was home, the other was away and vice versa. They seldom had meals together, rarely spent time together as a family and only on occasion would they come together in support of their son. They just never had the time and as Jay moved away from the life of a toddler to that of a quickly growing child, he would come to realize that time is forever short.
Age six and the Sterling family of three became a family of four. It baffled Jay if he was to be honest. "When did they find the time to make me a sister?" Kara "Kay" Sterling would be the newest addition to the Sterling Family and with work ever calling the parents away, they would need to hire a caretaker. Enter Ben Wallace. Ben would become the closest the two children would come to an ever present father figure. Not that their actual parents were horrible people. They genuinely loved their children but were simply never home at the same time. Ben was loyal, caring, a confident for Jay whenever he was having a shit day. He would took care of Kara and look after Jay for the foreseeable future.
At nine years of age, his father and mother took time away from work, for the first time ever, to connect with a son and daughter they wanted to get to know them better. They did this... by slowly introducing their work to them. Jay started at the shooting range, was quickly moved on to self defense, and finally received an in depth look into the history of war and the role his father and mother played in it. Kara mostly just spent time with mom. By the time Jay turned 12 and Kara 6, he'd pull the trigger on every gun his father owned, could successfully disarm someone swinging a knife in his face and could name every country Sterling Group and Swan Song had visited and what they'd accomplished there. It was a lot to take in for a budding teen but it was also the lessons that would come to define who he wanted to be... and it was definitely not his parents.
The Sterling Family would eventually move to Beverly Hills as Jay crested into his 15th year. He'd finish off the last couple months of his Freshman year at BHHS, brushing off skills as a software engineer he'd picked up from anther school and signed up to join the Water Polo team for the following year. Although not exactly trying to be incognito, he didn't really ending up on anyone's radar. His Sophomore year however was very different. He quickly learned that High School was simply another war that needed to be fought and BHHS was ground zero. Cliques, social ladders, those teens who excelled and those teens who lived off the back of others. This all seemed rather familiar and something he wholeheartedly wanted to avoid. The best way to do that? His father would tell him to help someone win the war and bring it to an end. The rest of the year was spent learning the different sides and picking his way carefully through it. At the top of the ladder were the HOT girls and opposite them was well... no one. He'd learned that years ago there had been a group of guys who'd banded together by chance and had stood up against their predecessors, The Unholy Trinity. The legends. The Elites. All believed to be myths up until Damien O'Connor. Word was he planned to make a comeback and Jay knew all too well what happens when you help someone in a war and when you also help those affected by it. If he played his cards right, the outlook for his Junior year? Profit.
But is that really what he wanted to do?
A C A D E M I C S :
E X T R A C U R R I C U L A R A C T I V I T I E S :
Varsity Water Polo Team. In line to become captain.
Volunteers at the Swan Song soup kitchen.
Works at Sterling Group training facility. Because of his father's semi strict regiment growing up, Jay is fit enough to take part in some of their training exercises. Otherwise he is mostly there to learn in a logistics capacity. His experience there so far and the recent pushes in virtual technology, a field passionatly explored by his sister, he's begun developing a virtual training program of sorts.
B E S T & W O R S T S U B J E C T S :
Best: History, Computer Science Worst: English
E X T R A N O T E S :
T I M S T E R L I N G :
Father of Jay, Kara and his work of passion Sterling Group. Tim is stern but fair, passionate and strong, a leader and a fighter through and through. In his younger years he'd figuratively and literally bled for the red white and blue, earning a purple heart in the wars of the middle east after taking a bullet in the chest. He went on to take part in the conflict against North Korea in the aftermath of the second Cold War and the following skirmishes with neighboring territories thereafter. Never quite able to leave a life as a warrior behind, he went on to found Sterling Group, enlisting a number of men from his special forces unit to create the ground floor. His company took off rather quickly thanks in part to years of experience on and off the field and in time, he was able to purchase some of the competition.
H A N N A H S T E R L I N G :
Mother of Jay and Kara and founder of Swan Song. Hannah met Tim when she was on outreach under a different company name with a specialization on getting their soldiers whatever they needed. Their love story is nothing to swoon over. They met and they clicked. After a couple of heated nights spent in the same bed, they eventually decided that they wanted the other... forever.
The decision to step away from her previous employers and start her own company was in response mostly to the fact that her husband was always on the move and not always where the rest of her soldiers were. She wanted to keep an eye on him but also wanted to continue to help those in need. Swan Song offered her both. The ability to travel to worn torn countries, to help those effected by the war and make sure Tim wasn't getting himself in over his head. The donations from people and government alike are enough to keep her operation going and then some.
K A R A S T E R L I N G :
Daughter of Tim and Hannah and younger sister of Jay. Kara is a force all her own. Smart and collected like the rest of her family and wise beyond her years, she's cut out her own niche in her school and plans to do the same when she finally enrolls in BHHS. At night and at the center of another wold entirely, Kara is a celebrity having found success in the robust ESports scene.
She's managed to keep her two lives separate and very few in the real world know who she is online, her brother being one of them.
B E N W A L L A C E :
Longtime caretaker and butler to the Sterling family. A father figure to both Jay and Kara when their parents are away from home. Ben is loyal to a fault, cares deeply for the well being of the Sterling family, especially that of the Sterling children, and... is the best driver in the business. Ben's skills include cooking, cleaning, singing and dancing, translations and more.
S T E R L I N G G R O U P :
Private Military Company founded by Tim Sterling following the conflict surrounding North Korea and her allies. Sterling Group is based out of the US with it's new headquarters and training facility situated just outside the city of LA and offices in 29 countries around the globe. As of late, the group has become a conglomerate after having purchased four other PMCs. Current contracts with various governments have been valued between $500 million to near a billion dollars.
S W A N S O N G :
Charity and Outreach group founded by Hannah Sterling. Swan Song has received national attention for their work in 3rd world countries providing aid to the victims of war, especially in areas where fighting had not ceased.
Their main office is in New York but a satellite was setup in LA as well as a soup kitchen and center for finding jobs for the unemployed.
Face Claim: Josh Keaton | Text Color: bdbdbd | Dialogue Color: ffffff
"These memories are like fading stars... every single one. But that?... That's my favorite. Brightest little fucker in the sky." Theme
:.Born As.: Claritie Vale
:.Also Known As.: Clo formerly Claudette Whiting formerly The Crow formerly The Third Harpy
:.Appear To Be.: 22
:.The Doctor Said.: Female
:.I Swing Towards.: Men
:.What You See.: Clo stands at a height of 5'8" and weighs in at a healthy (if not a slight trim) 145lbs. She's has a light build but is strong enough to carry her own in a fight and is adept in combat enough to use her opponents weight against themselves, especially if they heavily out weight herself. Her hair is of a pitch black color, her eyes of a prominent golden, her skin smooth with a slight and somewhat uneven tan thanks to her protective wear. Her attire usually consists of thin jackets or shirts and durable robes that allow her body that luxury of breath during heat and thicker articles of the same clothing (including jeans, her favorite) when the temperature drops below comfortable. Her lower limbs are usually covered in comfortable boots that can weather travel across long distances. Atop her clothes (and at times underneath) are layers of thin plated armor salvaged from various places and off a number of people. This includes abdominal and chest, lower leg and armor that covers her left arm. They provide both protection and double as a means to help hide the scars left by the three day war.
:.People Say.: First they say "Hi!". Then they say "Hey!" a little louder than the first though she manages to ignore it anyways. Once a much gentler soul, the culmination of a number traumatic events have changed Clo and not all the changes are for the better. As an older and more mature woman, she's become more abrasive than usual; a little more impatient. Perhaps a side effect of the personality she had as a child resurfacing after the wounds of a war, the pains of which were similar to her upbringing. However the Clo that emerged somewhere in between the now and the past still remains. She's adventurous and more often than not will attempt to take a path less traveled. She's come to appreciate respect although there's still the inkling of having issues with authority in her somewhere. Having grown up some, she's managed a balance of fun and danger with the virtues of patience and wisdom.
Besides being hot headed at times, a potty mouth and a generally more spirited person, Clo is also a very passionate woman. There are things in her life she cares deeply for seeing as how she doesn't have much to call her own. Her past is one of those cherished belongings and the places and people who hold court there are the pieces to the puzzle that make up whats left of her family. She's protective of them even if they don't know it.
This need to protect extends, oddly enough, to a buried sense of justice. As she's grown up, and with a work employment history that includes ample time as one of three guardians to a city, the instincts to preserve remnants of right and wrong have remained with her. She will lend a helping hand to those in need when able and will at times go out of her way to stop those who would bring harm to others.
Sometimes her solution to any given problem is permanent.
:.What I Like To Do.: Stargaze. Still a favorite pass time of hers. Just as when she was barely able to walk, Clo calls out to the stars every night, saying hello to each by name.
Train. Not so much her skills with a blade but those abilities granted by her gift. She also practices flight with a single wing. Ultimately shes found herself limited to the sustained glide and the assisted leap.
:.Profession.: formerly a Harpy of Paradise Lands
:.The Past Was.: Clo's early life was tumultuous and confusing. She was brought up in slavery having never known her real mother and father. Instead she was sold to various owners and made to do their bidding. Fortunately most of the men and women who would call themselves masters over her were kind and gentle souls, everyone save for the last. An abusive man, Clo grew to hate him and in time that hate became the fuel that fed the fires to rebellion and would ultimately lead to another life. This new life arrived in the form of two girls.
Ramera and Anora Whiting were the angels that came down from heaven to save her from her hell. Together they took part in a coup with the other enslaved metahumans and succeeded in rescuing the younger girl. The sisters later adopted her, gifting her with their last name, and the three of them traveled to a rumored land where others of their kind resided and where they could find safety from the dangers of a dying world.
Paradise and it's mother Ravenia accepted Clo and her sisters with open arms. Over the span of a few years and within the protection of the city's walls, they were nurtured into strong young women and in time would prove themselves more than just beings blessed with a beautiful complexion and magnificent wings. Thankful for their salvation in their new found home and more than willing to do their part in gratitude, the three sisters would step up to become the next Harpies Three. Of course, with Ramera and Anora both being older than Clo and a slight more mature, they became guardians of the city first. Clo continued her growth until she too was offered a position among her sisters and she fell into the role with pride.
For a time they lived and thrived. Splitting their shift into three with Ramera in the morning, Anora in the evening and Clo at night, the three would work tirelessly as the first line of defense against the threat of the living and the dead alike. They excelled as Harpies and would have continued to do so... if not for the unexpected twist of fate.
The arrival of two children changed everything and would be the spark that would ignite several years of turmoil for Paradise. In short, a combined force of two raiding parties with numbers in the hundreds would converge on the city and wage a war against Paradise and her peoples. The conflict was a brutal and long one and would culminate in a three day siege, a battle that would would see the death of many who called Paradise their home. Ravenia herself would be captured and tortured only to return with their leader's severed head. To make matters worse, the other major antagonist to take part in this war would turn out to be none other than Clo's father, Cypher Vale. Their meeting would be a turning point in her life and his last words would leave her... searching.
Clo would eventually leave Paradise after the war's end and would spend the next five years wandering the dead world looking for answers.
:.The Proud.: formerly The Third Harpy
:.A Glorious Gift.: Clo can control one very important aspect of inanimate objects: Time. All objects within close proximity of her (a distance of 5 feet from her outstretched arm) can be pushed forward or backwards on it's own timeline. For example if one were to throw a lemon at her head, once the object is within range, she can push it's timeline forward and cause it to begin to decompose until there is nothing left. As everyone is birthed and eventually dies, so too does matter. When in direct contact with an object, she can see it's past, where it's been, who's handled it, etc. However glimpses into the future are fuzzy at best as it is every changing. Clo's gift does not effect living beings, animals or the living dead neither can she travel forwards or backwards in time.
Having spent time training this gift over the last five years, she's developed the ability to "pulse" her time manipulation. A single wave of time dilation that travels outward from the center of her body with a maximum range of 10 feet. She can only do this once per day but all non-biological objects within the area of effect fall under the same rules of time manipulation as above.
:.What I Have On Me.: 9mm Pistol (No ammo) Sword Ceremonial Sword Pack containing food, water and various other tools necessary for survival.
:.Who I Know.: Ravenia Rose "She was... probably still is the leader of Paradise. We'd call her "Mother". Not entirely sure why but that's just how things were when I arrived and I never bothered to ask you know? It never really bothered me. In fact, when I think about it now, it made me... happy. I never knew my mother and Ravenia was the one to step into that role for me... for everyone. Sounds fucking stupid I know but... like I said. I was happy."
Ramera Whiting "The light that always pointed home when I'd wandered too far... and I did that a lot mind you. And I don't mean just out into the fucking waste like an idiot. I did that too but I mean as a person. When I'd forget myself or forget the people around me. Forget that I had a family, a mother, a sister, people looking up to me. She'd remind me that I was no longer a child alone who had to look out for myself. That I was a girl growing into a woman who would be called upon to guide others. It was a lot to ask at times and when I was originally given the opportunity to be a Harpy I didn't quite understand. But it was because of Ramera and herself that I finally decided to step up. And of course she'd remind that she loved me. I needed that."
Anora Whiting "So when I'd finally find my way home following Ramera's light, there was the warmth of home that made me stay. Maybe it was because we were both the younger sisters in our little trio but Anora was always there to comfort me when I'd gone and done something stupid. Ramera would play the older sister, scold me, teach me, loving me in her own way as any older sister should. Anora would be there to... fucking analogies: If I'd fallen, Ramera would tell me why so It wouldn't happen again. Anora would be the one to catch me. She was warm, loving, selfless. Together they were the embodiment of the kind of person I wanted to become."
:.Blood.: Cypher Vale "My father. A bitter sweet reunion is the result of his assault on Paradise. He was different than I imagined him to be I guess... Well besides wanting to kill everyone I once knew and loved, he just... looked different. I don't know, in my mind's eye I saw someone else. Then again when I think about it, I could almost see myself in his own. Anyways our meeting was brief. It was the middle of a siege after all and he'd been wounded by one of his own. He was just lying there against a rock, back turned to the others and his eyes on my home and I remember that there was this... sullen look in his eyes. Then he saw me and... he just... he just stared for the longest time. Didn't say a thing like he was thinking of something or trying to accept... everything. Then he said some shit. Stupid mother f-...
He's dead now. I think he's dead now."
:.Behind The Scenes.: Clo's wing is usually tucked neatly behind her back and secured there via leather straps. In this way they can be concealed and make mobility a much simper task for her. A single button, when undone, will release the wing from it's confines and allow some flight and added dexterity.
Clo's Undead kill count is in the hundreds. 326 to be exact. Clo's kill count for the living (was living) is 11. It's climbing at a steady pace as she continues her search.
The left side of Clo's body is covered in some parts by burn marks. They become heavier as they travel down her arm to her hand. Most of these marks are now covered in tattoos and those are covered by her armor. It's one of the reasons she only wears a gauntlet over her left hand. There is also a slight bump along the blade of her shoulder where her destroyed left wing was amputated.
Preferred method of transportation is her motorbike. She doesn't like cars or anything confining for that matter with the exception of the straps holding down her wing.
:.Born As.: Claudette Whiting :.Also Known As.: Clo by those closest to her, "The Crow" by everyone else. :.Appear To Be.: 16 :.The Doctor Said.: Female :.I Swing Towards.:Men
:.A Glorious Gift.: Clo can control one very important aspect of inanimate objects: Time. All objects within close proximity of her (a distance of 3 feet) can be pushed forward or backwards on it's own timeline. For example if one were to throw a lemon at her head, once the object is within range, she can push it's timeline forward and cause it to begin to decompose until there is nothing left. As everyone is birthed and eventually dies, so to does matter. When in direct contact with an object, she can see it's past, where it's been, who's handled it, etc. However glimpses into the future are fuzzy at best as it is every changing. Clo's gift does not effect living beings, animals or the living dead neither can she travel forwards or backwards in time.
:.The Proud.: The Final Harpy
:.People Say.: A bit of a pottymouth. Clo was by far the odd ball when it came to the Harpies Three. The Mother's choice to appoint her as watcher on the wall wasn't entirely understood at first. Before she'd been selected, she was just a normal girl who'd survived the Red Waste fighting for her life everyday just like everyone else. The years outside the walls made her a bit calloused. In short she was a softy for sure but had a unusually hard outer shell. As such she had problems with authority, problems with people trying to be a little to kind to her, problems with people who were obnoxiously kind. It was often one would find her mouthing off to another over something simple. However it was this anger, this heated will that was her most redeeming quality. When that energy was focused, she became a deadly weapon, smart, cunning, quick and at times ruthless. Her adoptive sisters took an interest in her right away. Even today despite her somewhat callous nature, they can still see the damaged little girl inside. In the end all she needed was a place that she could call home, some place that was safe... that she could help make safe. When she'd finally fallen gracefully into her role as protector of the city, she'd become a little more open, a little more optimistic.
Two people hold their own place in her heart. Anora and Ramera, her adoptive older sisters. She looks up to them and it's because of their love for her that she's slowly crawled out of the dark place she used to dwell.
:.The Past Was.: ((Being collabed with Luminance and Trillion))
:.Behind The Scenes.: Self administered piercings to her ear, usually of a dot design.
:.People Say.: What do people say about the King of Hearts? Well... most try to rationalize the way he is by summing him up into a one word package: caring. He starts by disarming you with words, using a talent of tongue to pick the locks around a man's guard. Once he's found you open he begins to read the story scrawled across your chest, flipping through the pages until he finds your heart. There... where blood meets, where the muscle pumps life through the rest of the body, he takes a hold and doesn't let go... you can't let go. He tells you that you're safe and you believe him. It's here that he begins to mend what's broken, revive the person inside until they can walk on their own again. In this way they become his and in this way, they become a part of his family. It's invasive... perhaps dark... but in his mind and in the minds of those that follow him, it's safe.
What else do they say? Well perhaps he's not limited to a single word. Cold is another label to aptly describe him. If there is weakness in his men, he'll expunge it with prejudice. If there is a threat to his family? He'll eliminate it. If someone turns against him... he'll punish them, deliberately. It's in such conditions that his men grow strong, hardened, and loyal.
When he's not dealing with people, he's dealing in knowledge. Not only are his people growing in the wild to be strong and hard, they also find themselves growing smart. It's often you'll find Cypher buried in books, either reading or reading to others. If he's not reading, he's hunting, teaching those around him how to kill for sustenance. When he's not hunting... he's killing, teaching the most important lesson: to take another's life.
:.The Past Was.: As a child, Cypher's hold on life was a struggle. He was born sick, a side affect of the poison that blanketed the air. Even as the years ebbed away what radiation remained from the war, there was still trace amounts in the Earth that had an effect on those cursed with living. It had an changed people, for the better... and worse. Cypher saw more of the latter. He'd been raised at a time when metahumans were common knowledge but remained a rare sight. There were stories floating around, tales passed from dense roves of survivors that caught the ear of a curious boy. A man who could glow, another who could ingest anything. There was the stranger who could ignite any object on a whim and the woman... a "Mother" who could summon water, the element of life from nothing. Back then they'd been simple stories... but these stories held within them a strength that Cypher hadn't yet known. Hope was a rare gift that no one could give but everyone sought after and in these stories was the hope people had been looking for. And so, it was in pursuit of this fabled "Paradise" that he and his family set out. His mother; ever beautiful, gentle and wise, always trying to see the light in the dark. His father; strong, intelligent and steadfast. He was the example of a man that Cypher hoped to one day become. Finally his older sister... and odd child but just as wise as his mother and who shared in their parents love for himself. They together with a ragtag group of survivors began the trek across the dead waste to find life.
Life however is rarely, if ever forgiving and the Earth never forgets. Neither would Cypher.
Today, Cypher travels at the head of a large group of survivors outside and far away from the walls of Paradise. They move ever closer...
:.Behind The Scenes.: Large scar painted vertically across his back. It's starts from the left hip and spreads as it travels toward the head, ending at each shoulder blade.
Name: Koeska Age: 25 Sex: Female Element: CLOSE YOUR EYES Home: Lower Ring Profession: BREATH SLOW
Appearance: 5'5" with a slim build. Soft face of light complexion, brown eyes and black hair. Koeska is usually seen in jeans with the bottom edges of her tank top tucked into the waistband. She'll often wear a thin jacket with the sleeves rolled up around the elbows or a sweater vest. Her gloves run up the majority of her forearm and there is a set of odd metal contraptions that are attacked to the back of her wrist via leather straps. Covering her feet and the lower half of her legs up to her knees are a pair of sturdy boots.
Personality: Koeska is for the most part quite chipper and optimistic. Playful most of the time and teasing the rest, she's learned to navigate the simple maze of man's mind in this way and get whatever information she wants. To make matters worse she's easily sly and coy and very persuasive. Intelligent in her use of verbiage and body language to achieve her goals. Most find it hard to determine exactly what it is she's thinking and it's completely impossible when she's in form.
Despite the way her personality can fluctuate based on any given situation, a skill as she's labeled it, when she's around certain people she finds that she's much more caring than usual. The only man she can truly label a friend for example brings out the good in her that she seldom shares with others. She can at times put the interests of those around her first even if there is no obvious benefit for herself. In a way, she kind of takes pride in that.
Stance on Benders?: She believes that benders are a people who mean well cursed with a gift that brings death to those around them. Although she wishes there were less permanent means to solve the bending problem, she understands that ending their life, one life, will save millions of others.
In her mind, benders struggle the same way she did once as a resident of the Lower Ring, they simply have no means of being BREATH DEEP
History: Koeska was born and raised in the Lower Ring to a family of poor upbringing and a short sighted future. Both of her parents worked and spent much of the day away from home leaving a young girl to fend for herself. It was out of necessity, and mostly because the woman they'd placed in charge of her couldn't keep her in check. Koeska had an odd habit that made it particularly easy to avoid others and sneak into, or in her case, sneak out of any particular place.
Freedom awarded her with the real world and the chance to mature well beyond her years into the strong spirited and yet very mischievous girl she is now. She learned early on that there were two ways to go about getting what she wanted: She either took them by force, or she convinced the other party to give it to her. She found she was skilled at both. Burglary for her came naturally and when that didn't work, her natural talent of tongue, her good looks, and a bit of bribery went a long way.
However it was during one of these acts of thievery that ultimately got her into a pile of shit she wasn't prepared for. She tripped RELAX AND LISTEN He took a liking to her and decided to recruit her into the LSF instead. At such a young age however, the training would prove to be strenuous... almost too strenuous. After having skipped out on many years of school, she was fed a curriculum at an accelerated pace. Daily lessons were then accompanied by physical training that pushed her body beyond their limits. Finally, the TO THE SOUND She would eventually pass and become one of the most revered members of the LSF team, second only to Cypher himself.
Name: Cypher Age: 27 Sex: Male Element: CLOSE YOUR EYES Home: Middle Ring Profession: BREATH SLOW
Appearance: Standing at 5'9" and weighing in at 160lbs, Cypher is just under the required imposing figure that most men in the business of security already have. He sports a clean shaven head and strong facial features as if cut from stone. Blue eyes, sharp nose and sharper edges around his chin all lend to a look that is rather easy on the eyes. He attracts women with relative ease though his attitude his the wall that eventually turns them away.
His usual attire while on the job consists of a thin form fitting upper shirt and dark cargo pants or black jeans. Combat boots ensure he remains comfortable while on the move. His firearm is carried on his person via shoulder holster and he often wears leather gloves for comfort, protection, and a better grip on his gun.
He does not like to wear the exoskeleton that most other LSF agents utilize and does without it whenever he can, even if using one would significantly increase his surviving a given situation.
Stance on Benders: Put simply, Cypher means to see all benders BREATH DEEP and moves to compete this one way or the other.
Personality: Cypher is a bit rough around the edges. Perhaps its the job or maybe that’s how he’s always been but he’s never found any relief in being kind to those he’s had to kill. He's learned that hinting at any amount of hope doesn't benefited anyone, least of all himself. And so, since the day he was born he’s been every bit as abrasive as ever. Blunt. Straight to the point. Business as usual. His job only makes it all the more necessary to keep all optimistic feelings at bay and keep dominion over his team with a strict demeanor.
Focused more than anything else, when given a task he strives to complete it doing whatever it may take to get his job down. It’s what he knows and he knows he’s very good at it. He's very meticulous on the details. He knows that everything means something and that something can lead to a break in a chase he's been looking for. He is after all a hunter of sorts, a profession that requires a certain skill set. Determination, patience, a trained eye to pick out what's important from a mess of unnecessary noise. He's also quite perceptive, able at times to see the truth of a situation when the job calls for it.
This perception bleeds into his social life. Others usually find it hard to keep the man engaged in a conversation when he knows so much of the truth. They understand he's blunt and doesn't like to waste time and so small talk and a bit of verbal foreplay isn't his thing. He cuts straight to the point though Koeska has been helping to coax him out of the habit and into more of the social butterfly he should be.
Koeska is a member of Cypher's team and one of his closer friends. It's with her he finds himself at the receiving end of a brother/sister like relationship. It’s the only kind of familial relationship he shares as he is the only surviving member of his family. Although at times he finds it more annoying than anything, it's benefited him in more ways than one and he's come to appreciate her care.
History Born to a noble house. Cypher received an early and vigorous education on all things from history to the social arts. He's surprisingly academic if one pays close enough attention. From a young age he was engaged and found studies came easier to him than most. When outside of school, his parents were sure to put him in the forefront of their households public eye to ensure that his transition into a socialite was smooth. He was a natural and would have easily surpassed his peers... if RELAX AND LISTEN
His parents were killed in a simple Satomobile accident. There was no drunk driver in the other car. There was no zen involved, no benders, no idiots without licenses. In the end, the accident came down to simple human error. Some man in a big rig hadn't noticed the red light. Maybe he was distracted, maybe he just wasn't paying enough attention to the road but he decided to continue through the intersection and plowed through the other car in his path. Cypher's parents and the metal frame around them were obliterated...completely.
Immediately after, Cypher's housing situation changed though his social status remained the same. He was moved into the care of a TO THE SOUND a couple who lived in the Upper Ring and advised the king. They added political issues to his education with a very strong emphasize on antibending. With little else to hold on to but the truth that bending was the reason the world had burned and with no other outlets to focus the anger inside him that had built up since his parents death, he turned to a life of hunting benders.
He was trained at the age of 18 for the RSF and quickly moved up their ranks from the Lower to the Upper Ring until, because of his adoptive family's connections, he was recruited into the LSF. OF CLEAR BLUE WATER He now leads the team and it's several members, continuing his fight against the bending menace.
Name: King Wu VI Age: 36 Sex: Male Element: None Home: Palace in the Upper Ring Profession: King of the Republic
Appearance: Much like his forefathers, Wu has dark brown hair and green eyes. His skin however is of a slightly lighter complexion and he’s fairly tall standing near 6 feet. Still quite skinny however. Clean cut with distinct familial facial features, Wu has the flat elongated nose, pointed chin, large ears and eyebrows that are only just slightly thicker than average. He dresses in a suit and variations of green ties instead of the jewel adjourned threads that have been passed down to him.
Personality: After twenty years on the throne, the fire that initially drove Wu to take his place at the head of his people has begun to die out. Wu’s time as King has left a weight on his shoulder that has only gotten heavier with each passing year. He means well but he understands the reason why the world is the way it is… and more importantly he understands the specific role he's meant to play in that world. He rules his people fairly yet strictly making sure that the people are happy but always remember the conflicts of the past. He doesn’t want history to repeat itself but at the same time he secretly doesn’t want his people to continue living the way they are… making him a very conflicted person.
Besides the growing distaste for his full time job, when not hampered by matters of the City, Wu is generally a positive man. The few who manage to catch him when his mind is not occupied with a thousand things tell of someone who still finds time to enjoy himself and the life he's been given. He shows great care for those subjects closest to him, taking a personal interest in the matters of others when he feels they need it. His people share in his love and even those convicted benders are shown a fair amount of grace... though it doesn't get them very far.
However he must constantly remind himself of his place and balance the good with the just and the necessary. Although he enjoys and lives his life he also understands that his life was never his own.
Stance on Benders: He's read the history a thousand times, knows every move of the war from from every nation back to front. Understands the why and the how and the who and then when and the what. Back then the Bending nations were ready to kill in the name of finding the Avatar and that kind of thinking had to be stopped. Wu understands. But there is always two sides to every story and sometimes at the end of the book, you find out there is another.
Wu believes that Benders, like every person bender and nonbender alike, have the potential to do just as much good as bad. However he knows that not everyone can share the same ideology as him and resort more often than not, resort to their basic instinct of survival when they come across a threat. Fight or flight is a mechanism that inhabits every living creature and the human race exhibits it wonderfully. To prevent that, Benders have to be the issues that everyone can rally against.
Benders are the issue.
History: Wu was born in the year 307ag, a good 63 years after the last great war. He grew up near exclusively in the palace and was always surrounded by those politicians that ran the world… and the children that would run the world after them. Wu’s position had been made clear early on: That the fate of the Republic would eventually rest in his hands and he would have to care for his people when the time came. He took too his predestined life with a vigor rarely seen.
Lessons started early in his life focusing on the history of the world and why he lived in what was now considered the very last city on Earth. He learned of the hard decisions his forefathers had to make for the preservation of humanity and for peace. He learned that in time he too would have to make those same decisions and would have to live with the consequences… for better or worse. He learned that his life was not merely his own but also that of the people he ruled. His future would prove to be trying but the rewards would be immense. Of course as he grew older, the real lessons, those lying underneath the ones he was taught as a child became clear. There were lies around every corner in the world and for the betterment of the Republic, it was his responsibility to uphold those lies.
His rule for the most part was unremarkable due in part to the fact that the laws already in place were simply enforced. He himself made sure of it. Benders were hunted and eventually killed as were criminals. There was little tolerance for violence of any sort though the with Lower Ring being so far out of reach of the shadow of the King, crime was still quite rampant. By doing his best to keep with the laws, there were no revolts during his reign, no wars to be waged, no major pressing political issues to dictate. It wasn’t until he was left to think for himself that he’d begun to second guess the way of the world and realize just how much of each was actually taking place.
Sure he’d never truly stood among his own people but he’d seen them in the flesh. Men and women were brought to his attention on a consistent basis and each of them… had a story. They didn’t tell it but he could see it in their eyes. They brought him pieces and over time he put together a full story. His people were safe but they were left wanting… like there was a hole that needed filling.
He felt he had to do something. Perhaps it was his turn to make a tough decision for his people, like his fathers before him.
Name: Gru Race: Grumbler Profession: Fighter Inventory: Epsum and Epsum's pack. Description: Gru is a smaller giant by comparison to others of his kin but at a height of 8 feet he is still a towering and imposing figure to most. Like the majority of his race, he is of grey coloration with skin like sheets of rock flaked around his arms, chest, shoulders and down the length of his back. They function like armor and as these "plates" fall off over time or from some other means of abuse, they are slowly replaced. They're also quite itchy and Gru will often be seen scratching at their callous surface and picking at the skin around their base. Gru is slightly heavier than other's of his kind given his shorter stature but stands more upright than most despite his stout belly. From his waist hangs simple yet worn leather and hide wrappings that offer some form of modesty despite the rest of his body being almost entirely naked. It stops just above the knee and is thick enough to deter small or dull blades and some projectiles.
Gru has a soft round face that is only slightly chiseled around the chin and nose. His head is entirely devoid of hair and over his left eye and brow is a noticeable and vertical scar. However, with the large white pupiless eyes not unlike that of a child, some of his kin actually see him as adorable.
Across his torso is a rather magnificently emblazoned tattoo of black color. Though it's specific history and meaning has been lost over time, the beauty in it's design is readily apparent. A sunburst of sorts with black rays that split into multiple pieces of blocky uniform shapes. They travel out to the midsection of his front and back in a patterned unison.
Fashioned to his back is a cradle of sorts. Leather straps have been slung over the giant's shoulders and across his midsection and hold his automaton in place. Riveted to these straps is the hide and leather satchel where the machine's torso rests. With no further room left in the cradle, it's right arm rests loosely to the side next to the pack that carries his belongings and it's head sits above it all. At first glance, Gru simply looks like a Grumbler and a pack full of treasures... or full of trash trash.
Due to events preceding this journey, Gru has also lost the ability to speak coherently and has settled for moans and groans and shrugs as his primary form of communication.
Optional Questions: What is your characters crime? Ignorance Favorite poem? The words once used to describe the beauty of the poems Gru once wrote has long since been lost to him. What do you treasure most? Greens mostly... and Epsum? Given the choice, how would you die? Epsum asked him once. Gru just shrugged.
Name: Epsum AKA Sum Race: Automaton Profession: Tinkerer
A magically infused pistol that summons ammunition and does not require a reload. The "magazine" holds up to six rounds and takes about one minute to summon a replacement. Any kind of external force that cancels magic will render the weapon unable to reload. Cannot be fed conventional munitions."
-Small water skin x5 -Adrenaline syringe (Military grade) x5 -Blister pack of two pills worth one days nutritional value x5 -Suture kit x2
The Surveyor of Land and Air Partner. Top left of Epsum's head (tip of head down to just below the left eye) can detach and be dispatched to survey an area. This half cannot communicate save for "blinking" of the eye but can be used to scout out a path ahead or lead someone back to him. SLAP can be separated for as long as needed and is often used to help Gru find food.
Coin Purse - 500gp
Given the nature of his skill, he can and has made a pretty penny. Given the nature of his condition, he doesn't make it as fast as he would like.
Description: Epsum is an Automaton. What was once a machine who stood tall among his peers has since been reduced to nothing more than his upper torso, his head and his right hand. The rest of his body has been lost to oblivion never to be recovered. By some unknown means he's found himself fused to the back of Gru, his wires and metal casing having become entangled in the plates protruding from the giant's back and some of the clockwork that at one time gave his legs life are now fixed permanently to his host. The entire network of wires, metal and plates aren't the easiest on the eyes and so to compensate, Epsum, with the help of Gru, fashioned a cradle of sorts. Leather straps have been slung over the giant's shoulders and across his midsection and hold the automaton in place. Riveted to these straps is the hide and leather satchel where Epsum's torso rests and where the gruesome nature of their bond is hidden from prying eyes. With no further room left in the cradle, his right arm rests loosely to the side next to the pack that carries their combined belongings and his head simply sits atop it all, an ever watchful sentinel and an over talkative parasite. At first glance, the pair do not appear to be a pair at all but one Grumbler and a pack full of treasures... or full of trash trash.
Hanging from the pack and stuffed inside is a collection of automaton parts that "Gru" sells for coin among other things. Some of the pieces are used for self repair while the most valuable are collected and kept. During his down time, Epsum will often fashion objects from the parts he's collected, tapping into ancient and ageless knowledge to create simple reinventions from a time long forgotten. Perhaps you need a spoon that can turn into a small knife. Maybe you need goggles that protect from dust but also allow you to see the world hidden away on it's surface. Maybe you just need new shoes... that make you jump twice as high as you could before. Epsum knows how to make these things... with the right materials and of course the right price.
Epsum is made of a durable metal alloy that is a few shades lighter than his larger rocky host. Much less humanoid than his upgraded and better preserved counterparts, Epsum sports a rather blocky head with eyes hidden behind thin sheets of metal that slide vertically and act as his eye lids. His pupils light up as does his mouth when he speaks, even when there are no "lips" to physically represent his voice. Epsum is also very vocal and will usually talk for the both himself and Gru. He has a healthy sense of humor than can at times be dry but is meant as a way to help make others feel comfortable around the two.
Optional Questions: What is your characters crime? It's specific enough that it haunts him but is not enough to deter him from his end game. He has one last project to complete and if that means he'd have to do what he did second time, he would in a heartbeat... if he had one. To be extremely vague, it's considered a crime against humanity.
Favorite poem? Not one to dabble in the art of the tongue, Epsum normally doesn't take to such sweet pleasantries. However, every now and again, Epsum has caught Gru... humming. A soft and gentle tune that although formless and naturally lost in translation to Epsum's less inspired mind, conjures the need words to coalesce. As if willed on it's own... a story begins to unfold but is left unfinished with Epsum at the end of the pen.
A hand made of stone, A day and a night, A little alone, A little more light.
What do you treasure most? His other half. Given the choice, how would you die? Giving birth to new life.
F A C A D E : Easily approachable. Well organized. Warm. Good sense of self. Smart. Fairly... average as far as strangers are concerned and that means easily blending in not that it's intentional of course. His mind is usually on the more important things in life rather than whether or not he sticks out. That's about as much as one can guess from a first impression.
Without speaking to him.
Once he opens his mouth, he's a font of information. He's lively. Excitable. Charismatic. A natural conversationalist. He enjoys the adventure a good conversation will take him on and will often find the time to send others on that journey as well. Get him to talk long enough and they may also learn that he's less organized than he tries to make himself out to be.
C O R E : Adventures don't just begin and end with the lives of the people he surrounds himself with. There are some strange happenings going on and Mochi wants to know about it. It could make for a good story later on.
This CS is heavily reliant on bbcode. It may not display properly on your device or browser.
K A E D E , M O C H I Z U K I "What's your story?" Theme
D E S C R I P T I O N :
S E X : Male A G E : 20 H E I G H T : 5'11" W E I G H T : 155lbs
Mochi is the guy you run into all the time at the coffee shop, mostly because he works there. Tall and lithe. Weighing in at a slight less than average one hundred and fifty pounds. Black hair, hazel eyes framed in blacked rimmed glasses, light skin that is ever so slightly kissed by the sun. He's usually one to keep things as business casual as he can, which he really can't, in an attempt to keep the appearances of a man more focused than he knows he really is. His clothes, even as well fitted as they are, tend to move on their own, as does his hair, and glasses, and his belongings whenever he puts them down. The only thing as stagnant as the lifestyle he's chasing is his life. Tenoroshi can do that to people.
Despite appearances leading to assumptions of a lack of drive, Mochi is quite diligent when it comes to his work and studies. He's managed to remain top of his class and keep a healthy social lifestyle. When his head isn't in a book, he's actively keeping in touch with friends, keeping up with the happenings in far off places and trying to find what adventure he may in this confined word of his. When not getting lost in the musing of a young adult, he's making coffee. Good with his hands, good with machines and good with people, his work ethic has seen to his promotion and after a year on the job, he now manages his own team of baristas.
When the facade of a man meant for better things becomes to great a weight to bear, or when at home, he sheds this skin to the young adult still a boy dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts smeared with print. Sometimes wrinkled.
W O R L D B U I L D I N G ( N P C s )
K A E D E , N A K A N O
T H E S I S T E R "Wake... UP!"
Mochi's headstrong, smart beyond her years, little sister. Not surprisingly, she's better put together than her older brother. Having used him as her reference in life, a wall with which to catch most of the wrongs ahead of her and her guidance when it came time to choose a path to follow. Her love for her older brother is as genuine as is his adoration of her.
At times, she's trying to care for him when he's too busy to care for himself.
T A S H I R O , F U K U D A
T H E B E S T F R I E N D "Time to go to work."
The best friend since youth. While Mochi often feigned at discipline, Fukuda had no need for a ruse. He lived it thanks in no small part to his upbringing. The two of them helped each other find the middle ground in their ways of life. Mochi often reminded Fukuda to have a little fun while Fukuda kept Mochi from having too much.
Fukuda works part time, attending classes with Mochi during the day and devoting what he could in the afternoon to his father's company
A S A M I , N O M U R A
T H E C O W O R K E R "Your face. It's crooked."
The coworker. She arrived at the coffee shop only a few months ago but has already left a lasting impression on everyone here, employees and customers a like, not least of which has been Mochi. She's at times blunt. Slightly forward. Can be deadpan but always manages to somehow skirt the line of doing all of the above too much. In fact, she's managed to hold her position at the register since her start, meeting and greeting customers despite her odd mannerisms. Mochi can't tell if it's because she's perfected this balance of being strange yet acceptable, or if he just wants her around. cafe
'Nora' does music on the side.
W O R L D B U I L D I N G ( P L A C E S )
H I N A T A
T H E C A F É Coffees and cakes. And breakfast.
Nestled along the border of the Northern and Northwestern districts is Hinata, a furiously popular coffee shop thanks in no small part to exclusive recipes, good management and it's prime location. With hot drink and food prepared in time for breakfast every morning, those commuting from the suburbs of the West make a quick stop at the café before finding their work North. Early morning hours means even the early birds can catch their worm.
The café is owned by Ike Otake. A woman who is as fierce as she is beautiful. She's begun to travel in search of profitable business ventures in other countries with an eye for expansion. There are currently six employees working for her, two of which are Mochi himself and Nora.
N I C H I B O T S U
T H E B A R Drinks and sushi and other small bites.
A favorite spot for both Mochizuki and Fukuda since they were both old enough to buy their own drinks, Nichibotsu is located in the center of the Northern District and is popular for plates that are highly regarded as the best in Tenoroshi, a charismatic bartender and live music.