Hidden 4 yrs ago 3 yrs ago
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Zeroth







Cast of Characters | PCs

Unit 01
Xalese Taala Höl @TGM
Kalian Bel Cyris II @Feyblue

Unit 02
Aurora Lune de Realis-Donati @Hero
Erik Nyqvist-Åkderfeldt @Sloth

Unit 03
Sirius Leverant @Asura
Eyrie Schemacloves @Xiro Zean

Unit 04
Cincinna Siloux @McMolly
Seiichi Cepheid @WXer
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Hidden 4 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by mickilennial
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mickilennial Gowi Reinkarnated

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago





“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re my partner? You? I want a refund.”
Xalese Höl, to her co-pilot

Personal Dossier

Name
Xalese Taala Höl

Age
19

Gender
Female

Origin
Luytenia, Luyten System

Appearance
Xalese stands at around 5’3”, she’s shorter than some of her contemporaries at Taiyōtawa Academy, though she doesn’t think much about it. Her appearance resembles her homeworld of Luytenia with her hair being white like the snow-covered terrain and her eyes an icy gray-blue. Her build itself is well-toned, a testament to her childhood being dominated by education in military academy to military academy. Her composure is often reflective of disinterest and disdain, carrying herself with a sense that nothing going on around her is important enough to illicit a response. She rarely smiles or even scowls yet she carries weight with each step she takes. When she speaks people often listen due to how uncommon it is that she’d utter a response beyond factual observations.

Her attire when out of uniform is decidedly simple and conservative. She does not wish to stand out nor bring attention to her physical features.

Personality
Ese is cold and abrasive, often looking like she has no interest in the conversations and people around her. Some people perceive this as a sharp arrogance given her bloodline.

Such people who think that are morons. Ese could care less about who is better than who. She’s worked her entire life following orders and doing her best, not for some ill-conceived notion of being the best or living up to her parents but simply it is all she knows. She thinks people are stupid, loudmouths, and all sorts of thing but it has nothing to do with a prescient arrogance. She’s not arrogant, or even particularly confident. She just feels like there are certain personalities and traits she cannot stand. For her to speak up about it rather than ignore it would take a deal of pressure, though there are certain exceptions. When she feels that threshold reaching to a certain point she will turn from icy to downright bone-chilling. Despite her smaller stature and feminine appearance she can wield her presence like a weapon. Few people who have crossed her tend to want to illicit such reactions.

Still, she’s not needlessly prickly. She knows how to be pleasant, it’s just hard for her to be perceived as nice by nature of her burying most of her emotions, anxieties, and vulnerabilities to where she doesn’t have to deal with them.

Background Information
Xalese is the progeny of two Valkyrie-1 pilots by the name of Ilexander Höl and Taala Viranova. As such Xalese grew up as a child starstruck in wonder, looking up to her parents as she found herself stranded on the snow-capped surface of Luytenia, raised by her maternal grandparents.

It would be an optimistic, albeit envious childhood up until the snow-haired girl was nearing her ninth birthday. The Battle for Sirius Prime was the largest gambit that the Confederacy took part in for years and while the battle was successful it came at the cost of “Geirdriful”, the Valkyrie of which her parents commanded. Joy was ripped from Xalese’s heart and her child-like admiration of the Valkyrie Program and the Confederacy as a whole was changed in an instant. Her parent’s funeral didn’t make things much better as speeches talking of their great sacrifice and how it was an honor to serve by their side were uttered by other pilots and the commanders who orchestrated them in an unwinnable gambit. Ese was nine-years-old. She couldn’t contemplate tactical appraisal. All she knew was that it wasn’t fair.

Tollus Viranova, her grandfather, a former ICW pilot could only reinforce that point as she was told to pick herself up. If she was to avenge her parents or live by their memory she should swallow her melancholy and move forward. It was a cruel lesson to teach to a nine-year-old, but it was a lesson she came to know well when she was sent to a military boarding school with little time to grieve. Compartmentalizing her issues, Ese held onto her feelings of resentment as she buried anything resembling emotion. She came to believe that showing weakness was a flaw and that emotions were weaknesses. The drill instructors made sure to program that in her head. This did not change as she got older and moved to another academy for cadets. She remained quiet as she focused on aptitude and academics. The time she got off she spent back with her grandfather. She had no friends or other family that she knew of. She never resented her grandfather or the military academies she was sent to. Holding onto something her mother told her when she was seven she kept her goals in check; the words that echoed being “Everything in life is a teaching moment”.

Eventually her academics came to a fitting conclusion when her scores netted a cursory letter from Taiyōtawa Academy. With accreditation pointing toward ICW management and piloting she spent the first year alongside other notable cadets in her age bracket like Kalian Cyris II and Heres Konicek. Before the year was over the three of them were called up to meet with Dr. Prixmila Donati and before she knew it she was following in her parents footsteps training as part of a new generation of would-be Valkyrie pilots.

With her now paired with Heres she hopes in her second year to unravel what it means as it appears she and Heres are some of the only ones who had made the cut for the program in their group. Perhaps the new batch of first-years of the academy can bring a well-needed life to the program.

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
TC

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■■□
Composure | ■■■□□
Endurance | ■□□□□
Instinct | ■■■■□
Intellect | ■■■□□


Hidden 4 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Feyblue
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Feyblue Lord of Floof

Member Seen 4 mos ago






“Oh, trust me, I'm just thrilled to be partnered up with you, too. Now do you wanna help, or did'ja just come here to complain about it?”
Kalian Bel Cyris II, to his co-pilot

Personal Dossier

Name
Kalian Bel Cyris II. He commonly goes by Bel.

Age
19

Gender
Male.

Origin
Agria, AKA Tau Ceti E, Tau Ceti System.

Appearance
When one envisions the son of a hero, Bel probably isn't the first person to come to mind. Standing at the fairly average height of five feet, eight inches, he doesn't exactly have the towering stature or striking looks one might anticipate. His face appears to still be clinging desperately to the last vestiges of its baby fat, with surprisingly round cheeks and a somewhat dull and narrow rather than sharp and chiseled jawline. His nose is low and small, and somewhat round and buttonlike in exactly the manner one might expect an overly affectionate grandmother to find quite pinchable. He has a very prominent forehead - some might call it a fivehead - framed by the short-cropped bangs of his dark, straight, and routinely messy hair, and particularly emphasized by his high-set brow. Neither of these features, one might add, do much to detract from the rather defined contour of a set of bold eyebrows that seem so prone to frowning that you could swear them to be somehow magnetically attracted to his bright, clear blue eyes.

These eyes are, in particular, the crown jewel of his face, with a mature, focused look that perhaps, in some sense, rescues his countenance from looking wholly childish. They have a fascinating sort of energy to them, seeming to shimmer and shift with the slightest change of expression in a way which is wholly captivating. Were the rest of his features half so enthralling as his eyes, there could be no doubting him to be handsome. Nevertheless - particularly when he smiles, revealing almost equally bright rows of white teeth - he could be reasonably called somewhat attractive, or at least cute - a word which he himself would surely never tolerate.

His skin is relatively clear apart from the occasional pockmark, mole, or scar from carelessly scraping or cutting himself by accident upon some jagged piece of metal while working. Having spent his life largely either in space or underground, his skin is unsurprisingly rather pale. Nevertheless, despite his somewhat aloof lifestyle, he's in decent physical shape, probably from hauling around machine parts here and there, or from helping his family stock their small shop back when he lived with them on Agria. Nevertheless, he's less buff than he is simply thin, and as such doesn't exactly have the most imposing sort of figure.

More often than not, he's seen wearing a variety of nondescript hoodies, t-shirts, jeans, and slacks - usually blue, white, red, or gray if he can help it. However, he's particularly often seen simply wearing a hoodie over some casual clothes patterned stylistically like a flight suit, with some simple bits of padding tacked onto them for effect, but coupled with a significantly finer white and red jacket emblazoned with a red delta logo. While this logo was adopted by his engineering group, it was originally the personal crest of his mentor and role model, Captain Asher Zaren, from whom he received the jacket as a present from his days as a pilot. He wears it with pride out of reverence for his mentor, and is seldom seen without it.

Personality
Bel could perhaps best be described as a walking contradiction. At a glance, one might describe him as cheerful, confident, and carefree. He's perpetually irreverent and casual, making light of almost any situation and thus finding something in it to amuse himself. He always seems on top of his game, ready for anything that comes his way. And yet, he's also aloof in a sense, as he stubbornly refuses to seriously engage with... well, almost anything, really. His constant joking hides a tendency to seldom treat any matter seriously. This isn't to say he's indecisive or cowardly, however. If forced to address or answer to a challenge head-on, he'll tackle it as best - and as quickly - as he can, all while making it seem effortless. And yet, his reluctance to answer seriously when questioned or rise to the occasion when called hints at the fragility of his ego.

In this sense, he's quite the rebellious teenage spirit. He doesn't like being compared to others, because regardless of his relative competence, he seems to expect he'll be looked down on or spited. And yet, given how hard he tries to look like he's not trying, he also clearly values his reputation. He wants to be praised, or, failing that, to be told that what he's lacking is motivation and effort, not talent. When one figures this out, he's surprisingly easy to lead on bit by bit, as he'll sometimes forget that he's supposed to seem unconcerned when he thinks he's doing well. In these cases, his enthusiasm and pride are clearly quite genuine, and are so earnest that one might find them quite charming in spite of his sometimes obnoxious behavior. The problem is, once he's had time to calm down from his high of pride, he goes right back to being just as affectedly unconcerned as ever.

He's very slow to trust people, and tends to think the worst of almost everyone he meets, always expecting some hidden agenda guiding their actions, and trying above all else to avoid being a pawn in their game. He values his independence very highly, such that he's even hesitant to speak warmly of others, much less be known to have helped them, lest they realize he actually values and admires them. He hates talking about anyone's problems, let alone his own, and as such, can seem quite cold-hearted. And yet, perhaps the one he's trying to deceive is himself, not wanting to admit that despite his desperate efforts to be his own man, utterly unfeeling and unconcerned with the affairs of others, he's actually not as terrible a person as he pretends to be? In truth, what really frustrates him so much in hearing the feelings and hurts of others isn't that they're bothering him and wasting his time with something he doesn't care about, but rather that he can't offer a solution to those problems - a fact he's all too familiar with in his own family life.

His family is, in a phrase, both the root of his many neuroses, and the only exception to them. When it comes to the Keliath family who raised him, he's easily embarrassed by them, but unmistakably warm towards and respectful of them, particularly his mother Anda. However, if there's one thing that makes him go from merely aloof to actually hostile, it's his father. His personality seems to do a complete 180 whenever the elder Kalian Cyris comes into the picture, and he becomes incredibly cold, bitter, and outright angry. Above all else, never compare Bel to his father, especially if that comparison is unfavorable. Doing so might make you an enemy for life.

In short, while he's in some senses kind and devoted to those he truly cares about, Bel is nevertheless a perpetually rebellious teen with severe trust issues, a short temper and a fragile ego - a faker who can't be honest with himself and his own feelings, much less express those things to others. Treat him well, and he'll probably consider you a friend, even if he won't say so. He's not, perhaps, what one would expect of the son of a hero, or of an aspirant hero himself. But he'd probably say that those expectations are ridiculous. Utter selflessness and honesty? Giving up one's own life for the sake of those one doesn't even know? Allowing one's self to be merely a tool, a sacrifice, for the sake of all those cynical adults who play good people like pawns in their big game? His world has never been so big as all that. So long as he's not hurting anyone, and the people close to him are happy, then all the rest will follow - even if he no longer has a place to return to when the fighting's done.

Background Information



Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
Physical Coordinator

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■■□
Composure | ■□□□□
EnduranceA| ■■■□□
Instinct A| ■■■■□
Intellect | ■■■□□
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Mcmolly
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Mcmolly D-List Cryptid

Member Seen 20 hrs ago





*Enthusiastic finger guns*
Cinny, to her copilot.

Personal Dossier

Name
Cincinna "Cinny" Siloux

Age
18

Gender
Female

Origin
Mālum, Teegarden System

Appearance
For a space hick, Cinny is a bit of an anomaly. Living in the near-perpetual shadow of her system’s only habitable planet, she lacks the stereotypical awkward tan and sun-bleached hair of farmers from other, more standard planets. She is in fact rather pale, without freckles or blemishes apart from calloused hands and the occasional scar from dealing with varmints and other unwanted guests. Her attire certainly fits the bill however, finding comfort in old staples like overalls, boots, and gloves, though she’s had to give most of that up since joining Taiyōtawa Academy.

Cinny is average in height and surprisingly middling in weight, due to poorly-paying work and the rule that it was generally bad business to eat the crops you were selling. Nevertheless, she’s no twig to be blown over; there’s a deceptive amount of well-worked muscle on those bones as well as the wherewithal to use them.

Personality
Despite growing up in the dark, Cinny is possessed of a near-invincibly sunny disposition. Friendly, empathetic, and trusting to a definite and undeniably detrimental fault, she is at once easy to befriend, and difficult to be rid of. She prefers the company of others, partly because she genuinely enjoys being around people, and partly because she utterly despises being alone.

Unfortunately, this craving for companionship is hindered a bit by the fact that Cinny has said perhaps six words in the past four years. She was never a particularly talkative child, but following the murder of her brother and loss of her home, Cinny has rarely ever been able to utter a word in the presence of anyone, even just herself. Medical evaluations have pinned the condition as concretely psychological, but despite the numerous reminders that “it’s all in her head,” and the urging that she needs to “move on,” she hasn’t. She can’t.

Thankfully tablets, text-to-speech, and good old pen n’ pad have gotten her along, and she’s even taken up learning some rudimentary signing. However, were it not for the fact that the link between Coordinators is largely mental, she’d likely have no place in Taiyōtawa or Project Valkyrie.

Background Information
Cincinna was born on Mālum, and was eight years old when she discovered from her brother, Ptolemy, that its full name was Mālum floresco in umbra, “The apple that grows in the shade.” He’d said it with such distaste that she understood immediately why he chose to go by “Lem,” and shortly thereafter, she shortened her own name to “Cinny.”

Life on Mālum was peculiar, floating in the shadow of the system’s only other planet, Ventus, (which itself had some overly-long, descriptive name amounting to something along the lines of, “the sun’s favorite child,” despite that it was arid to the point of uninhabitability.) Cinny’s home was draped in perpetual shadow, with its brightest hours coming, ironically, during the rising of the moon. But Mālum persisted and thrived in its own way. Its soil was rich, and the crops it yielded grew with astounding speed so long as they were not exposed to direct sunlight. As such, Mālum found itself a small yet lucrative niche acting as a source of food for the Confederacy.

And as with anything of value, there were people seeking to steal it.

The Siloux farm was among Mālum’s most successful, owing to a long lineage of seasoned farmers, honed techniques, and a ridiculously fertile span of land. Ptolemy was the eldest of two children, and was forced to take responsibility of the operation as well as his young sister when their parents passed. In addition to keeping the small yet loyal group of farmhands organized, the duty also fell upon him to protect his land from the array of predators set upon it, man and beast and machine alike. But Lem never cracked under the pressure.

Pirates were simple enough to handle. Lem was an ace with a gun, and a born leader, and so it was that time and again a band of marauders would sail planet-side, try their hand at driving the Silouxs off, only to be thrown back into orbit with their tails between their legs.

Ascendancy meddling came in more nuanced forms, the most dangerous of which was the introduction of strange, predatory species. Alien beasts from other worlds more vicious than most anything the generally docile and dark planet had to offer would occasionally, "spontaneously" appear to wreak havoc near and around the farm.

Lem brought Cinny into the fold then, and she held a gun long before she ever handled a plough. It took years of practice, many mistakes, and more than a few acres of ruined crops, but eventually Cinny got the knack for hunting in the dark. It necessitated a bestial instinct and awareness, patience, the reflex to pull a trigger quick and the discipline to make a steady shot. By the time she was teenaged, she was patrolling the farmlands with the rest of the perimeter wardens, fending off whatever strange, snarling things came out of the shadows. Whenever she made a clean kill or earned a new scar, she’d come home to boast about it to Lem.

One day a man came to the farm. He had a fancy ship, but no guns and no crew ready to storm the farm. Lem invited him inside the small estate, and Cinny listened through holes in the floorboards as the two of them discussed, as the man said, “business.” He claimed to have the utmost respect for their family, for what they were doing, said he understood what drove them to protect their land so fiercely. He used a lot of big words to offer empty platitudes and make vague threats. Ultimately, what he did was offer Lem a choice: take a ludicrous amount of money and leave the farm, or face severe consequences. The war was cold, he’d said, but not snuffed.

Lem politely told the man to leave or he’d shoot him. The man left.

He came back in a mech weeks later, with a dozen small ships at his back. Cinny and the farmhands took up arms and prepared for the worst. Instead, Lem marched right up to the big, iron foot, and demanded the man meet him. To Cinny’s shock, the man did. He came right down in his fancy pilot clothes with a gun at his hip, and he and Lem had long words, too far away for any of them to hear.

At length the two of them stood apart, Lem just inside the farm’s line, the man just outside of it, with the moon high above them booth. They drew, two gunshots cracked the air. Lem dropped and the man did not.

Minutes later the farm was put to fire. Some of the farmhands tried to intervene, but were shot down with half the honor and twice the ease as was afforded to Lem. Cinny was dragged away kicking and screaming, screaming so loud she thought she might’ve torn her throat apart trying to deny the reality of what had happened. She screamed and wailed to go back and help Lem, to save the farm, until eventually she was only whimpering, and then, finally, she was silent.

The next time she opened her mouth was years later, when her school’s counselor came to her, concerned, asking if she really wanted to enroll somewhere like Taiyōtawa Academy now that she was graduating.

She said: “Yep.”

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
PC

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■■□
Composure | ■■□□□
Endurance | ■■■□□
Instinct | ■■■■■
Intellect | ■□□□□

Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Sloth
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Sloth The Potato Salad of People

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Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Asura
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Asura bitch you almost got blood on my timbs

Member Seen 3 days ago

Sirius Elhart Leverant




“You're either with me or against me. Pick one.”
Sirius, to his partner

Personal Dossier

Name
Sirius Elhart Leverant

Age
18

Gender
Male

Origin
Ares

Appearance
Standing at 6' 1", Sirius strikes an imposing figure and damned if he'll let anybody ever forget that. It goes without saying, therefore, that he possesses a carefully cultivated physique to match his stature—his build is lean and sinewy, like that of a finely tuned predator. But his frame is far from the only thing to be intimidated by. Everything about Sirius, by design, is meant to be striking. The sharp, well-defined profile of his face. The pale alabaster of his skin. The wild locks of jet black hair that contrast it so well, messily styled this way and that. His eyes are perhaps among the most prominent of his characteristics; two piercing silver spheres that stare intensely upon the world, reflecting the many hues of his many emotional highs and lows.

Child of privilege that he is, Sirius takes great pains to dress well when outside of his school uniform. His wardrobe is almost exclusively monochromatic in color, consistency of far too many shades of black and grey, just like his own features. Buttons ups, fine trousers, vests and jackets, hats and scarves. One could certainly poke fun at the effort he puts into looking good, in spite of his own macho tendencies. Such mockery matters not to him. All that matters is achieving his goal: never be forgotten.

Personality
Many words can be used to describe the tempest that is Sirius. Fiery, domineering, tumultuous, possessive, driven. He is incredibly competitive, aggressive in his pursuit of his goals, voracious for the praise and admiration of those around him, and more than willing to crush any and all who he deems obstacles. Wildly independent, he bucks under authority, desperate for the ability to control his own destiny yet shackled by his deep-seated need to be validated for all his fight. His world exists starkly in blacks and whites: there are those who are beneath him, and those he has yet to place beneath him, with little room in the middle for equals who hold neither sway over him, or who he holds no sway over. The need to conform to this unhealthy, superiority driven world view leads him to acts of cruelty and excess, but also forms the backbone of his implacable willpower, one of the few positive traits he exhibits with any regularity.

Background Information
Sirius is the most recent scion of the Leverant family, whose name may yet remain middling to the greater Confederacy, but looms tall in the history of his clannish home-world, Ares. Descended from the first jingoistic leadership of their nascent world, the House of Leverant rules among six other aristocratic families on the aptly named Council of Seven, the hereditary government which has led its populace to prosperity and strength across its nearly four hundred year history. Established by exiled officers after a failed coup on their homeworld of Mars, Ares held fast to a hawkish military tradition long before its first colonists realized the mineral wealth its surface possessed, and the potential for manufacturing such vast resources enabled.

It was these things—the staunch militarism of its populace, and its capacity to arm that populace—that made Ares an essential bulwark against the Ascendancy during the war some forty years ago. The men of Ares held an ever-shrinking line against the swarms of Ascendancy ICWs until the Valkyrie Program brought an armistice to the wartorn Confederacy. Men like Sirius' grandfather, now among the Confederacy's Admiralty for his hard-fought contributions to the war effort. Men whose legacies have molded Sirius since the day he was born.

As the youngest son of the current head, expectations of greatness and the dutiful acceptance of those expectations were to be second nature for him. Just as they were for his brothers, father, uncles and grandfathers before him. From his earliest years he was expected to thrive in all which he applied himself to, to struggle and fight and win for the sake of the family name and the world they represented. It worked, to a point. He learned the dogged resolve necessary to clinch victory from the jaws of defeat, even in the most trivial of competitions or tasks. He learned to assert himself against those he considered adversaries, to make it known his will was the one to be bowed to. He learned a lot of things, but perhaps chief among them, he learned resentment.

Sirius became something of a black sheep among his family as he grew from boy to teen to man. He came to hate the regimentation of his life, the expectation of deference to the greater good of the line. He lashed out, battled against his father and brothers, alienated himself from them even as he worked himself so hard to match—even exceed—their expectations and deeds. If he wished simultaneously freedom and their approval, he would earn only one upon coming of age: a spot at the prestigious Taiyōtawa Interstellar Piloting Academy set him free of familial machinations on Ares. A thinly veiled exile, ostensibly to pursue his talent as an ICW pilot.


Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
PC

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■□□□□
Endurance | ■■■■■
Instinct | ■■■■■
Intellect | ■□□□□
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Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Hero
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Hero Sincerest of Knights

Member Seen 3 days ago





“Try to keep up, okay?”
Aurora de Realis-Donati

Personal Dossier

Name
Aurora Lune de Realis-Donati

Age
19

Gender
Female

Origin
Terra Nova

Appearance
Standing at five feet six inches, Aurora is a young woman who carries herself with grace and dignity at all times. Her heart shaped face adds to her attractiveness, her big, chocolate brown eyes makes her expressions stand out. She sports an extremely curvaceous body, her fair skin is flawless and her long, brown hair is always shiny--it's obvious that she takes pride in her appearance and takes very good care of herself. Everything she wears from head to toe probably costs more than anything most can afford, as she wears only the finest.

Personality
Aurora is the best of the best and would rather you don't go forgetting it. The word 'tact' doesn't exist in her dictionary, speaking her mind freely and disliking it when she's told to do otherwise. She loves playing coy and plays the part of a flirt well when needed, although she prefers making people chase her. The only thing she likes more than people telling her how beautiful she is is getting as much praise as possible. Her tendency to hone in on people's weaknesses and her delight at exploiting them tend to make people very wary of her. Nevertheless, her bravery is second to none, having no fear of the unknown and is more than willing to jump in headfirst into any new challenges.

Background Information
The marriage of the heir of the Realis Holdings to the Donati Corporation's heiress was celebrated as a union of two industry giants. While the two remain separate, the family is united through Aurora. Of course, a marriage of convenience can only be tolerated for so long, especially with the disappointment concerning heirs; both camps had hoped for a male heir. After fourteen years of pampering their princess and readying her for a life of luxury, everything was tossed aside at the arrival of a bouncing baby boy.

Since she was no longer needed, Aurora decided to make herself useful by using her talents elsewhere; in her mind, if she could prove herself by becoming a successful pilot and make a name for herself, then she wouldn't need anyone.

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
TC

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■□□□□
Composure | ■■■■□
Endurance | ■■■■■
Instinct | ■■■■□
Intellect | ■□□□□
Breasts | ■■■■■■


Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by WXer
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WXer オラ・オラ・オラ!

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago





“We both can talk. We just don't think you're worth the time."
Seiichi Cepheid, on behalf of his co-pilot

Personal Dossier

Name
Seiichi Cepheid

Age
18

Gender
Male

Origin
Oppnaris, Kapteyn's System

Appearance
The dim light of the ancient Kapteyn's Star leaves the inhabitants of its system with a paler pigmentation when compared to those living under more vibrant suns. Yet, Seiichi's flawless complexion is unlike most others on his planet as he has never had to work manual labour a day in his life. Born in the upper class of a planet named after hope, he has always been swaddled in hand-woven, loose-fit blouses dyed to match his hair as a symbol of his opulence. On top of that his full wardrobe includes all the bells and whistles: silk pyjamas with his initials embroidered on the lapel, three-piece designer suits constantly adjusted by a tailor before every major event, and even literal bell and whistle accessories that dangle on his sides.

In most physical metrics, he is the definition of acceptable though he is conscious of his height of 5 feet and 6 inches. While he can't do much about that, his consistent routines of calisthenics have given him a somewhat lean yet durable build to withstand the stress of piloting his assigned Valkyrie.

Personality
Seiichi might seem sombre, guarded, and cold to strangers. Coupled with his innate lack of respect for niceties due to his upbringing around duplicitous socialites, he leaves quite a stand-offish first impression. While this is definitely true even for his friends, once he opens up, they also know that he is quite supportive, empathetic, sanguine and just a bit indolent. There is only one perplexing aspect of his personality and it's that he is actually quite impatient though it only manifests in short verbal quips he delivers with a lethargic lack of enthusiasm.

With all of this in mind, Seiichi is most comfortable when he in the sanctity of his personal quarters by himself, gazing at his ceiling while recordings of old tango music quietly play in the background. However, he doesn't dance to the music. In his dreams, he is the artiste creating the composition which live on in the hearts and minds of others.

Background Information
When the first colonists had arrived on the planet previously known as Kapteyn B, they had made the promise that hope and opportunity would always be available to those that called it home. However, as time passed, it became clear that the tremendous potential of the star system capital would never be realized as they wasted away due to economic stagnation caused by corruption, ineptitude, and nepotism. The upper ruling class were content as their land holdings generated enough wealth to keep them afloat, though never to the extent of those in more prosperous planets. To no one's surprise, it would be the working class that bore the burden of this grandiosity. A tale as old as time, no matter where one grows up in the universe.

Yet, this fragile facade of peace within their society would fracture the moment the Ascendancy arrived within the system. The endemically corrupt elected government had been overthrown in a coup before a single invading soldier had landed on their soil. In its place though was a political machine with a fresh coat of paint but all the same cogs running it underneath, eager to accept the conquering force with open arms. Granted, a few figureheads were executed but it had worked tremendously as a patriotic frenzy rejuvenated the spirit of Oppnaris under the banner of jingoism. While the common folk had not broken free from their chains, they could now blame their enemies in the Confederacy for their failings.

Seiichi would be born into this environment as the son of a provincial finance minister. While the title does not sound prestigious at first, it basically meant that they were free of ration laws and could access illegal markets with no consequence. Their embezzlement-fuelled estate gave every advantage Seiichi could ask for but a sense of unbelonging always made its presence known to him, with his childhood peers always giving him preferential treatment lest they be investigated by the state secret police. Ultimately, this drove him to pursue hobbies that did not require the presence of others, with music capturing most of his attention.

When whispers of a coming ceasefire had become common knowledge, pro-democracy military cliques had seized the organs of the state once more and restored the previous regime to the best of their abilities so that they may return to the Confederacy. They had promised fair elections when order is restored but instead they had brought about chaos and anarchy to society. The patriotic frenzy of its citizens had now given way to domestic terrorism as high profile politicians found themselves slain or abducted. The various thugs that acted as the state's official hit squads also turned to organized crime as their services were no longer needed in an official capacity. And of course, the economy continued to plummet as inflation rose faster than their currency could manage. These spectres loomed over everyone's head but Seiichi had found a way to not only escape the planet's plagues but keep face while doing so.

Hope and opportunity had come in the form of Taiyōtawa Academy's Project Valkyrie.

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
Tactical Coordinator

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■■■■■
Endurance | ■■□□□
Instinct | ■■□□□
Intellect | ■■■□□

Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Xiro Zean
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Eyrie Schemacloves




“I believe in the good within you. One day, everyone else will see it too.”
Eyrie, towards her partner

Personal Dossier

Name
Eyrie Schemacloves

Age
18

Gender
Female

Origin
Boletus, Kepler System

Appearance
Usually, Eyrie's clothes consist of long-sleeved shirts that hide the skin up to her wrists, yet she doesn't attempt to conceal her legs in a similar manner, donning skirts when she's able to instead. Though her outfits commonly exhibit desaturated colors, mostly shades of grey and dark blues, the brightly red-framed glasses that sit upon her nose draw attention to her snow white hair and dull green eyes. The only significant features of her appearance.

Personality
Eyrie is an optimist. A gross overestimation, but the closest word to how she sees the world. It isn't confidence that drives her thinking, as her ability to argue is next to non-existent, nor is it an overestimation of the future, which would've been a symptom of pride. Rather, Eyrie merely believes that things will eventually sort themselves out, a baseless hope that allows her to get through each day. No matter what happens, no matter the struggles, the future is always capable of bringing light into her world. Any victory, no matter how small, is a victory, and she will treasure every single one.

Background Information
On Boletus, a world where a bigger population than most results in bigger problems, The Schemacloves family barely scraped by. Living day by day, paycheck to paycheck, the young Eyrie was merely happy to be alive. To her, they had everything they ever needed, no matter if she would sometimes have birthdays go by uncelebrated or merely acknowledged with a cupcake and a single candle. Her parents worked hard, she could understand that, and the discomfort of a usually empty household was worth the happy moments that lightly sprinkled her life.

She did not expect the sudden bomb dropped upon her a certain night, that she would be shipped to a different system to study in the most prestegious school in the known universe. Eyrie couldn't imagine a world outside of the city she lived in her entire life, yet she knew any sort of disagreement would be met with indignation, merely by the unsettling light within her parent's eyes. A desperate air that rolled around their home, an atmosphere she purposely ignored every time she heard the shouting in the middle of the night about bills and impossible future plans. Something she understood, deep down, was somehow her fault.

So when they asked, no, commanded her to excell at Taiyōtawa Academy, all Eyrie could do was bow her head in defference, no matter the emotions that swirled within her gut.

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
Tactical Coordinator

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■■■■□
Endurance | ■■□□□
Instinct | ■■■■□
Intellect | ■■□□
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