[CHAR] In Search of Gaea A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure (REBUILD)
- Post-Apocalyptic
- Fantasy
- Casual
- Advanced
- Steampunk
- Small Group
- GM DruSM157
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Mcmolly D-List Cryptid
Member
Seen
6 hrs ago
Kaitha Morro
20
Female
The Sea of Stars
Moon (Shadow)
- Negative Space: Embracing her aether sign, Kaitha becomes a blot, enshrouded, coated as if by ink and shadow. Pitch drips from her form, liquid dark that slithers back to her as quickly as it hits the dirt. All that remains are two glinting white pits for eyes, which seem paradoxically bored into her, and also detached, moving about her head freely to grant her a wider degree of vision. In addition to making her an absolute nightmare to look at, this ability grants Kaitha a slight enhancement to her speed and strength.
- Flitter: Only usable while in Negative Space, Flitter allows Kaitha to make herself just that much harder to hit. Her umbral edges blur, her steps stutter and she moves like a smudge, or the shadow of a nightbird passing overhead.
- Moonlit Confessional: When she was young, Kaitha would sometimes hear whispers in the dark. It was only much, much later she discovered that, with focus, she could speak back to it. While the dark never answered, she did find some use in sending her shadowy messages to others, who would hear her distorted voice crawling from the dark.
Spirited, thrill-seeking, and in desperate need of some good friends, Kaitha is a an outgoing and curious person by nature. However, growing up in such an isolated place with few people willing to associate with her means she’s still learning the ins and outs of proper socialization. Sometimes she speaks when she shouldn’t, others she’s silent when she ought to speak.
While not as deeply spiritual as some of the people from her home, she still shoulders a few quasi-religious eccentricities. As well, though she likes meeting new people, and isn’t normally one to judge, she isn’t shy about espousing her disdain for the empire.
For centuries, the great beast called Aephel, and the shell-city atop it, drifted along the Sea of Stars’ border, patrolling the few and dangerous routes to its neighbor, the Lost Sea. Aephel’s people were as enigmatic as the fog they watched, remaining largely isolated from the rest of their own nation, as well as the nations beyond. Those few outsiders who anchored there, did so briefly and would describe the culture as insular and arcane. They were largely self-governing, but frequently ceded authority to an organization of warrior priests called “Aephel’s Choir,” or, more colloquially, just “The Choir.” While not outright hostile, Aephel’s cold and unwelcoming nature towards outsiders ensured that little else was learned of it.
Kaitha, however, learned plenty.
Although they did not worship it, Aephel’s people regarded the moon in a way many would comfortably describe as “religious.” They took guidance from the waxing and waning, from the tides, even from its reflections. Omens both good and bad were derived from every facet of its being, and among them, to be born under its aetheric sign was considered great.
Most often.
Born under the vermillion light of a harvest moon, Kaitha was not what many would consider a lucky child. In fact, the word used most frequently was “cursed.” It didn’t help that her mother, Petra, was head of the Choir, and would for the rest of her days fight tooth and nail against the notion that her position should be forfeited to someone with children who were less doomed.
Kaitha grew up under scrutiny from not only the Choir, but the people of Aephel in all. When misfortune befell them, without fail there would be whispers of fated calamity, and now and then there were more heated calls for Petra to resign—calls which were quickly and severely silenced. Rather than cave to the pressure and become a recluse like her late father, or a cold statue like her mother, Kaitha did what plenty of high-spirited youths would do in her shoes: rebel.
Aephel prized solitude, so Kaitha socialized—as best she could. Whenever the rare visitors would anchor, she would talk with them and hear their stories of excitement and adventure. She would join diving crews plundering areas nearby on Aephel’s ceaseless journey, and return each time to the same scornful glares and pointed whispers she would have gotten anyway. People said she was shirking her duty, besmirching the Morro name; they would use it to justify never letting her into the Choir, as if they were ever considering it. She trained anyway. Petra would never let her daughter go to waste no matter what the others thought. Kaitha might never wear the diving habits of the Choir, but she would protect Aephel and the Sea of Stars just the same.
Things changed when she was eighteen. An argument with her mother saw Kaitha once again abandoning her duties to go play at adventuring with passing divers who were predictably and thoroughly disturbed by her, but she didn’t care. She was gone for days, living a life she only dreamed could be real, and when the fun was over, and it was time to go, she was struck with the same sinking melancholy that always followed her home.
Only, there was no home.
Kaitha saw it on the horizon, how Aephel was tilted in a strange way, how the water was darker and the fog—gods, the fog. It rolled down from on high, and though she could not see it she felt in her the fear of something very small standing before something utterly titanic. The loudest sound Kaitha had ever heard exploded through the air, louder than any thunder crash or tidal wave, a sound she could never truly describe but which would remain with her in her mind forever.
When the fog cleared Aephel was gone. Her mother, her home, the Choir, all of it was just…gone. They found wreckage in the waters, little of it salvageable and none of it bearing any hint as to what exactly had happened. She found a diving habit, and a Choir weapon, but otherwise Kaitha left the remains of her home to sink.
Afterwards, Kaitha stayed with the divers until they reached the Sea of Ancients where, with nowhere else to go and no other prospects, she joined the Diver’s Guild.
Kaitha’s habit isn’t just for pretending she’s part of a dead order that shunned her for her entire life—it also serves as a diving suit, and is perfectly functional in combat.
Her weapon, a saw-bladed staff, was designed mainly for use against the creatures of the Mother Ocean, but works just as well on anything else she can dig its teeth into. Durable and deceptively lightweight, it can even be used underwater.
Lemons Resident Of The Bargain Bin
Member
Seen
8 hrs ago
“I don't know where I'm going, but it's not back.”
Tella Lecta Lumia
24
Female
The Imperial Sea
Sun (Fire)
Tella's skill in using aether is fairly weak compared to many others her age, and certainly worse than most others who trained for six years in the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets, then four years in the Imperial Naval Academy. She was never very good at using it, so she mostly ignored it, dismissing it as a weakness that could be compensated for by her other strengths. Though she's been working to remedy this in recent times, she's still fairly unskilled. Competent enough to not be called a novice by any stretch, but certainly not enough to be called skillful.
What command she does have is almost strictly offensive in nature, though it does carry a few additional benefits. Her principle usage of it is to enhance her expertise in swordplay, though there are a handful of other uses she's found and basic pyrokinetic powers such as lighting campfires or burning ropes.
In addition, she has the peculiar talent to manipulate her own body temperature. While it's not exceptionally useful much of the time, it has its niche on the open seas, and it's most definitely saved her life on at least one occasion.
What command she does have is almost strictly offensive in nature, though it does carry a few additional benefits. Her principle usage of it is to enhance her expertise in swordplay, though there are a handful of other uses she's found and basic pyrokinetic powers such as lighting campfires or burning ropes.
- Blade-Conjuring - Far and away her most advanced technique and the only one that could be classed as skillful, Tella practices this regularly in order to maintain some level of consistency in it. With a flick of the wrist, she conjures a short blade made of solidified flames into her offhand, switching fluidly from a one-handed duelist's stance to one more fitting of a sword and long dagger. She can also throw the blade, which to her is functionally weightless; it maintains its form until she ceases concentrating on it, at which point it disappears in a flash of light.
- Sword-Wreathing - Much simpler than her Blade-Conjuring is the basic ability to surround her sword with an aura of fire. While not much more powerful on a base level, it allows her to also project the fire a little ways away with a strike, extending her reach and causing painful, if superficial, burns. It also has a not-insignificant effect on the thought processes of an opponent; a sword spontaneously lighting on fire is certainly cause for some consternation.
- Flame-Casting - The most basic of the combat techniques at Tella's disposal, this is exactly what it sounds like. She can project motes of flame, or a fast, narrow stream. As her skill is lacking, she can't keep it up for very long, and the flames are fairly weak. But, as with Sword-Wreathing, it is excellent for superficial burns and distraction.
In addition, she has the peculiar talent to manipulate her own body temperature. While it's not exceptionally useful much of the time, it has its niche on the open seas, and it's most definitely saved her life on at least one occasion.
Tella has much to think about right now, and it's not hard to tell. Though for much of her life she carried an intense conviction with her, manifesting in an easy, almost arrogant confidence, this has been shaken if not completely shattered of late, resulting in an existential dread and a terrible lack of purpose. The burden of expectation from her instructors that once weighed heavily upon her has been replaced with an expectation that she burdens herself with, and heavily. Owing largely to that expectation, but also due to the haughtiness that once dominated her, she was never the most smiley of women. Now, she doesn't talk much, other than to give cursory responses, though she's very polite when she does.
All of that is fairly surface-level: the look on her face, the set of her shoulders, her silence, and the troubled air around her. But any more than a cursory examination will additionally reveal a strangling undertow of confusion that runs just under the surface, pulling her along with it. She is hesitant to make quick decisions much of the time, expressing a great deal of doubt in her ability to choose the right path unless she has a great deal of time to think it out and weigh her options.
But further beneath it all—beneath the pressing self-doubt, beneath the weight of the shattered shards of her confidence, beneath the confusion of what she should do and where she should go now, beneath the distracted hush, beneath the expectations that she burdens herself with—she is still the same Tella that once sparred with naval officers and soldiers, pushed herself to the point of breaking and beyond, and pulled through the Naval Academy with flying colors. And in moments of extreme stress, the questions that she spends so much time thinking about silence themselves and she is fully in the moment, making snap decisions like she was born to, pushing herself past any expectations that she puts on herself, and showing the steel-hard resolve that still forms the very core of who she is.
All of that is fairly surface-level: the look on her face, the set of her shoulders, her silence, and the troubled air around her. But any more than a cursory examination will additionally reveal a strangling undertow of confusion that runs just under the surface, pulling her along with it. She is hesitant to make quick decisions much of the time, expressing a great deal of doubt in her ability to choose the right path unless she has a great deal of time to think it out and weigh her options.
But further beneath it all—beneath the pressing self-doubt, beneath the weight of the shattered shards of her confidence, beneath the confusion of what she should do and where she should go now, beneath the distracted hush, beneath the expectations that she burdens herself with—she is still the same Tella that once sparred with naval officers and soldiers, pushed herself to the point of breaking and beyond, and pulled through the Naval Academy with flying colors. And in moments of extreme stress, the questions that she spends so much time thinking about silence themselves and she is fully in the moment, making snap decisions like she was born to, pushing herself past any expectations that she puts on herself, and showing the steel-hard resolve that still forms the very core of who she is.
From the very beginning, Tella's life was one of privilege. The only child of the wandering trader Sohge Lumia and Lecta Tilme, only scion of a vast mercantile empire in Galma, she was incredibly spoilt and rarely ever heard the word 'no.' From a very young age, it was taken for granted that she would eventually take over her mother's family business and carry on the Tilme legacy of merchants. But as she aged, she began to feel...uncomfortable. Constrained. Shackled. Though she had everything she asked for, there was something missing. And only when she was out with Sohge and caught sight of an Imperial Navy vessel disembarking did she realize what it was.
Her parents were aghast when she told them at a very young age that she planned to enter the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets and forbade it immediately. But she would not be dissuaded. She insisted. Day in and day out. And her parents, spoiling her even then, eventually caved. They would pay her way through the Academy for Future Cadets. They would even finance her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, if it came to that. As long as she was ready to do that for life.
As a child, she didn't recognize the veiled threat behind it. And as she aged and went through her six years of education in the IFAFC, especially later on, as she developed more physically, she began to feel a fierce pride that she would one day be part of so noble a cause. The entitlement of a child of massive wealth turned to the confidence of someone who felt that she had truly found her place in the world.
When she left the Academy for Future Cadets, though, her parents made good on their veiled threat, delivering unto the now nominally adult Tella an ultimatum. They would pay her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, as they'd promised. They had so much money now they had little else to do with it. But if afterwards, she committed to the Navy—if she chose that path over their own mercantile empire—then she was a Lumia no longer. A keen sense of betrayal and anger poured through her, and she narrowed her eyes at them. They treated her like the twelve year old that had entered the prospective cadet's Academy still. And then turned, and marched to her new Academy.
After four years, she graduated, and entered the Navy proper. By this point, she was a hardline Imperial zealot. The rest of the world was ignorant, and they needed to be civilized and enlightened by the Empire. They would thank them eventually. And Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best, and a threat to life at worst, if they woke up something deep down that shouldn't be woken. People that shouldn't be allowed to live. Expansionist. Arrogant. And skillful enough in martial combat to back up any threat she made. So did her parents, cutting her off permanently from the family fortune. But she cared little, twenty-two years old and flush with pride as she sailed on her first mission as a true member of the Navy, to the Frozen Sea.
It was to be her last as well.
In the depths of the Sea, their ship was suddenly smashed to bits as the Frozen Sea Leviathan assaulted this intruder to its domain. Thrown into the icy waters—without her armor on, luckily—only Tella's strange ability to increase her body temperature saved her from an agonizing death immediately. And she would have died regardlesss, if the Diver vessel the Dragon's Tooth hadn't pulled her nigh-unconscious body out of the water and taken her to Windkeep to nurse her back to health. Tella's mind, already shaken by the loss of not only the ship, but the entire crew, was deeply confused. Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best and a threat to life at worst. Yet here she was, still alive. And all thanks to Divers. And the strict orthodoxy of the Empire—its rules, its strictures, its edicts and expansions—suddenly seemed to fit too tightly.
Desperate to repay the captain, she offered her unconditional services to him. To repay him not only for saving her life, but for all that the Imperials had said about Divers. She served him as a crewmember for three months, and found herself, against all odds, finding a dim enjoyment in life as a Diver, and the freedom it offered. But little enough, still broken as she was. Working in the great Diver's Guild city of Makrus for many months, she was eventually allowed to set off with a crew. She still felt the cloying guilt, still felt the need to give recompense to Divers. But more than that, she craved the manual labor that came with it. The repetitive tasks cut her mind free to think. She had a lot to think about. And she would have plenty of time to think about it on the Sharkfin.
Her parents were aghast when she told them at a very young age that she planned to enter the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets and forbade it immediately. But she would not be dissuaded. She insisted. Day in and day out. And her parents, spoiling her even then, eventually caved. They would pay her way through the Academy for Future Cadets. They would even finance her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, if it came to that. As long as she was ready to do that for life.
As a child, she didn't recognize the veiled threat behind it. And as she aged and went through her six years of education in the IFAFC, especially later on, as she developed more physically, she began to feel a fierce pride that she would one day be part of so noble a cause. The entitlement of a child of massive wealth turned to the confidence of someone who felt that she had truly found her place in the world.
When she left the Academy for Future Cadets, though, her parents made good on their veiled threat, delivering unto the now nominally adult Tella an ultimatum. They would pay her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, as they'd promised. They had so much money now they had little else to do with it. But if afterwards, she committed to the Navy—if she chose that path over their own mercantile empire—then she was a Lumia no longer. A keen sense of betrayal and anger poured through her, and she narrowed her eyes at them. They treated her like the twelve year old that had entered the prospective cadet's Academy still. And then turned, and marched to her new Academy.
After four years, she graduated, and entered the Navy proper. By this point, she was a hardline Imperial zealot. The rest of the world was ignorant, and they needed to be civilized and enlightened by the Empire. They would thank them eventually. And Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best, and a threat to life at worst, if they woke up something deep down that shouldn't be woken. People that shouldn't be allowed to live. Expansionist. Arrogant. And skillful enough in martial combat to back up any threat she made. So did her parents, cutting her off permanently from the family fortune. But she cared little, twenty-two years old and flush with pride as she sailed on her first mission as a true member of the Navy, to the Frozen Sea.
It was to be her last as well.
In the depths of the Sea, their ship was suddenly smashed to bits as the Frozen Sea Leviathan assaulted this intruder to its domain. Thrown into the icy waters—without her armor on, luckily—only Tella's strange ability to increase her body temperature saved her from an agonizing death immediately. And she would have died regardlesss, if the Diver vessel the Dragon's Tooth hadn't pulled her nigh-unconscious body out of the water and taken her to Windkeep to nurse her back to health. Tella's mind, already shaken by the loss of not only the ship, but the entire crew, was deeply confused. Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best and a threat to life at worst. Yet here she was, still alive. And all thanks to Divers. And the strict orthodoxy of the Empire—its rules, its strictures, its edicts and expansions—suddenly seemed to fit too tightly.
Desperate to repay the captain, she offered her unconditional services to him. To repay him not only for saving her life, but for all that the Imperials had said about Divers. She served him as a crewmember for three months, and found herself, against all odds, finding a dim enjoyment in life as a Diver, and the freedom it offered. But little enough, still broken as she was. Working in the great Diver's Guild city of Makrus for many months, she was eventually allowed to set off with a crew. She still felt the cloying guilt, still felt the need to give recompense to Divers. But more than that, she craved the manual labor that came with it. The repetitive tasks cut her mind free to think. She had a lot to think about. And she would have plenty of time to think about it on the Sharkfin.
- A standard-issue Imperial saber that rarely leaves her side. Almost unused in the fashion that the Imperials intended for it to be used, but occasionally used in her time as a pseudo-Diver to fend off roving pirates or overcurious creatures.
- A knife kept behind her belt as a basic tool, and a weapon of last resort. She typically doesn't use it in her offhand, preferring Blade-Conjuring for that purpose. Very useful as a utility knife when underwater.
- An expensive sapphire earring given to her by her parents for her tenth birthday. As much as she could sell it for, it's the one remnant of her childhood that she can't bear to part with.
- A simple rebreather. Secondhand and obviously repaired multiple times, but serviceable nonetheless. She purchased it with her rapidly dwindling money in Makrus. Essentially required to work as a Diver.
Nearly everything else she had on her, all the expensive trappings that she'd retained and gleaming Imperial affects, she either lost in the catastrophic crash, gave in gratitude and regret to the captain of the Dragon's Tooth, or pawned off in Makrus to afford a slightly nicer living situation.
Yankee God of Typos
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
C r u s A c o s t a
“What can I say? I'm charming and irresponsib- I mean irresistible.”
Name
Crus Acosta
Age
Eighteen
Gender
Male
Home Sea
South Sea
Aether Sign
Sun (Wind)
Aether Abilities
Crus' Aether abilities are extremely minor. The most he can do at the moment is create a breeze. At it's strongest Crus can use it to give himself a tailwind and move faster while using less stamina, or to give himself a push through the water while swimming. Most of the time he uses it instead to cool himself down, cheat at tops, or passive aggressively knock things over. His control is poor when his emotions are high.
Personality
On the surface, Crus is a bit of a people pleaser. A young man with a warm personality. He is friendly and playful, and never shy around strangers. He acts much the same whether around old friends or new acquaintances, and he doesn't discriminate. He enjoys chatting, and to that end he can be a bit pushy. He likes prying, and especially likes getting his way. Crus isn't one to give in easily, and that extends to much more than just personal relationships. He has a stubborn streak a mile wide that helps him to chase his wants and goals even when the going gets tough, but he's patient enough to play the long game too.
Crus can be irresponsible. If he doesn't want to do something, he tries to find a way out of it. This doesn't particularly mean that Crus is lazy - he's done his fair share of hard work during his life, but the weight of responsibilities, of people relying on you, makes him uncomfortable. For that reason he doesn't make many promises to people either. A promise with Crus is a rare thing indeed.
Though stubborn and bullheaded in most things, when it comes to interpersonal conflict Crus will deflect, get defensive, and offer platitudes before anything else. If he can avoid a scrap he will, but his small amount of pride won't let him back down if things get physical. Of course, most conflict of that nature can be avoided by either telling the other person what they want to hear, or by cutting into them with sharp words. Just have to know who you're fighting with. Maybe under different circumstances, Crus could have been quite the manipulator. Might still turn out that way, but at the moment he prefers getting what he wants by taking care of it himself. By the way, Crus is also a pretty talented liar, but he's honest more often than not. That probably makes it all the harder to tell when he is lying.
History
On the island of Ororuel in the South Sea, the Acosta family served as governors for the last few generations. It's household housed the former chief Asabien, his son and current chief Barachel and wife, and of course Crus: only son and future chief. There is a certain charm and excitement knowing you're destined to lead people, to take over the family mantle... but as Crus grew up, the feeling wore off quickly.
Though the tradition was to continue with Crus, he consistently fell short of his family's expectations. He had no motivation to take over the position, no interest at all in politics, and did not show any inkling of the skills needed to act as chief. He was a hard worker, so long as it was work he was interested in doing, and carrying a community on his back was not. Instead, his heart was set on adventure. Since early childhood he was the type to feed into his curiosity, leading faux adventuring teams made of the community's kids to discover all their island had to offer. First hand experiences with flora and fauna dealt life lessons in the form of scars, but Crus always went back for more. He was a hands on learner. Traditional classes were never for him, and he shirked many meetings with tutors in favor of outings into nature - whether it be into caves, climbing hills, or diving underwater. If he could touch it, he wanted to know about it; the how, why and when. Philosophy, law, diplomacy... those weren't physical things, and so didn't interest him in the slightest. History was about the only thing he wasn't able to touch that he felt worth learning about. His antics were tolerated as a child, but as the years passed it created a tension and dissonance between himself and the island's older population, including his father and grandfather.
Elders of the island grew worried of the family's future, and considered another one taking over. Anxious, and frankly irritated at the prospective young chief, they openly talked about their concerns and scorn. With each other, with their families, and of course to the chief himself who would hear every complaint and bring it back to his own family.
By the time Crus was a teenager, the friction surrounding him was well established. That time in a person's life is already chaotic and confusing enough, but Crus spent it torn between not wanting to disappoint his family or his community, and wanting to stay true to himself. He'd known for a long time that he didn't want to take on the mantle of chief, and though no amount of pushing, smothering, or convincing would change his mind he let people believe that it might. The time Crus spent in the village was filled with lies, platitudes, and avoidance. At home it was arguing, simmering anger, and strained smiles in between moments of familial love. There was a lot of sneaking off to forget about his duties for a while, a habit he'd never shaken from childhood, but whenever they could his father and grandfather would keep Crus on a short leash. More lessons, more scars.
Whenever he get away, Crus spent most of his time outside of the village. For one, his peers and the younger members of the community still adored him (at least the ones that hadn't taken their elders' mumbling to heart). Playing, helping, or just chatting and relaxing were his favorite pasttimes, besides exploring. Having long since scoured every nook and cranny of Ororuel, more often than not Crus took to the ocean. He pretended to be a Diver and brought back shells, coral, and all kinds of trinkets from the sea bed to give to the little ones - especially his new little sister, whom he could never be upset with. There had been a particularly difficult period of time when it came to light that his parents had been trying for another son. Though it ultimately failed of course, the tactic actually worked for a while, but eventually the frustration caught up with him and Crus disappeared for a few weeks. It was during that time he'd taken a boat out and let the sea's current take him wherever it willed. He slept under the stars, rocked by ocean waves, and eventually drifted to an patch of sea wholly unfamiliar to him. Under the water he ended up coming upon something interesting: the ruined remains of some ancient vessel, half buried in the sea bed and completely covered over with barnacles. What was it? Where did it come from? How had no one found it before? Surely if they had, he would have already known about it. Inside the wreck beside little animals making it a home and trinkets destroyed by time, was an ornate bident. Though crusted with mollusks it had not rusted. Crus' eyes shined at the sight of it, and of course he took it back with him to the surface.
When he came back up to his boat he found an ambush of people from his village waiting to take him back. He supposed he'd been gone a little too long this time. Once returned home he found that his family eased up on him a bit, afraid to lose him for good. The relationship with his family had improved, but it felt like a false sense of security. He placated them more often than not, pretending to come around to the idea of being chief just to keep the peace. Over the next few years Crus merely tolerated living on the island that seemed so small now, preparing for the inevitable but looking for a way out.
And then, when news reached their little island that a Diver crew would be stopping by on their way to some newly discovered ruins, Crus fought to hide his excitement. He kept it cool, acted disinterested, but in reality this was his chance. Real Divers, the kind that explored all the world's oceans and went on all kinds of adventures, coming to his home?
What else could he really have been expected to do, besides stow away aboard the Sharkfin?
Gear
Crus has carried that bident he found for years, clinging to the little sense of adventure it brought him. In addition he also carries a simple rebreather, a small knife, and a woven bag - all things he uses while exploring. Besides that he carries some primitive beigoma, doubling both as his favorite game and as a little keepsake of Ororuel.
Taka The Last Son of Vegeta
Member
Seen
1 mo ago
Kaminari Kiryu
“Names don't matter. What's important is how you live your life.”
Name
Kaminari Kiryu
Age
18
Gender
Male
Home Sea
The Dragon Sea
Aether Sign
Sun - Lightning
Aether Abilities
Kaminari has trained his body under the martial arts of his father and Gale, learning how to use aether rather late in his training. He is the least experienced in real combat unlike the rest of the crew, only being allowed to fight if it is necessary. Gale's training has helped him create ways to use his aether to supplement his martial arts while being useful for every day purposes. As it stands, Kami is hardworking Diver with fists of steel and feet of lightning.
Lightning Skates: Lightining Skate is a unique technique that enhances the user's speed and creating unique ways to attack. More specifically, the user lines the bottom of their shoes or feet, if bare-footed, with a thin film of Lightning Aether. After the bottom of the shoe is coated with lightning, the user's speed on foot increases substantially. As a result, it as if the caster is skating across the ground. This spell holds a similar setup compared to when Kaminari enhances his limbs with lightning. Due to the complexity, Lightning Skate cannot be used in conjunction with Lightning Touch.
Lightning Touch: The most basic of techniques, but the most creative in Kaminari's arsenal. With a deep breath, Kami channels his aether into his hands/feet, casting streams of electricity around his hands/feet, thereby increasing the resulting damage when striking targets. Due to the natural effect accompanied by being struck by lightning, Kaminari can shock his targets. These shocks can potentially cause a momentary stun but, it's a rather low chance.
Lightning Tether: Shifting lightning through his hands/feet, Kaminari can touch an object, or person, leaving behind a mote of lightning, creating a tether between him and the object. The tether is solid, yet retains the property of lightning. A current is charged into whatever it touches, allowing Kaminari to change the polarity of the object, either pulling himself to the object and vice-versa, similar to magnetism. The tether cannot shock the things it touches as that requires too much from Kami.
Personality
Kami is a guy with very kind heart and pure intentions. Despite any troubles at his life, he continues to keep his smile truly alive and sincere, in order to seal the hope and strength in himself and in others. Kaminari is a protective and supportive one; even if he doesn't know how to help, he will do almost anything to help his friends or unknown-to-him and innocent people. He respects all the people that surround him, even the pirates though this respect differs from how Kami attends the usual people and Divers. He is quite polite, trying not to be rude in conversations and/or when he is in a bad mood. He is a calm individual, which can not be driven crazy or become mad easily. On the other hand, if somebody turns him up to the boiling point, then you surely can begin your preparations for the worst things ever. But, reaching the boiling point is a hard enough task. To mention other things, he is very kind and compassionate and somewhat very impressionable at someone's bad times and eventually often can not simply withstand the burden of other's troubles even if they aren't connected to him directly and he doesn't help them due to different circumstances.
History
Unlike his parents, Kami was not born in Xian, rather he was conceived upon the Dragon Sea, on a ship captain'd by Himund Gale. Kami's father,
The life of a diver was not one well suited for a child and yet Kaminari became attached the idea of a Diver, a hero that protected the seas. Raito, and Gale began to teach the boy how to handle being a Diver, as even they knew that he would follow in their footsteps, but they were careful to never let him close to danger. The crew looked out for the boy and his ill mother, becoming a family in the meantime. A family that would soon endure a tragic loss.
The night came long as everyone slept, Kaminari running around the deck with Gale watching over him. A cannonball ripped through the ship, alarming the crew. Pirates had come to get revenge for their captain. A battle would ensue that left Gale's crew on the losing side, a ship 3x the size stood before them. Fate had deemed them a sacrifice to satiate the pirates, until Raito took action. His prowess proving to be legendary, facing them down near single-handedly. A demon of the seas, he boarded the pirate ship. He knew that couldn't escape the dreadnought, so he took it upon himself to give his crew time to escape. His goodbye was short, but he knew his family would understand, Kaminari screaming for his father. The loss was grave and not even time could heal this wound.
10 years passed after that fateful night, Kami never forgetting his father's sacrifice, but he was not the only loss that the boy would face. Melia too would eventually pass away, her body growing too weak to sustain herself. Kaminari had to face life without his parents, instead being raised by Huminid Gale, a foster father who treated the child like his own. The boy was the cusp of becoming a man, ready to face the world as a Diver like his parents before him.
Gear
Kaminari does not carry much besides the usual diver equipment. There is only three things that he keeps on him. One being a customized pocket watch that his father once used and the other two are twin katanas that are family heirlooms from his mother.
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 _______________________________________________ - Full Name - Marina Sorellia Byl Alias - Marina Watercrest Age - 24 Gender - Femme Home Sea - Imperial Sea Aether Sign - Moon (Water) - A Dolphin's Madness Marina was already a girl who was… a bit bold in her academy days. She was thrill-seeking, loud, cheerful, and assertive. Her penchant for messing with people and laughing it off has not changed, though she has become blatantly less stable after all of the endeavors she has survived as a diver. After staring death in the face twice one could say Marina has lost her wavin’ mind. She has become rattled and fascinated with the oblivion of death and seems obsessed with facing it again. It can be pretty unnerving. Independent Heroine Marina seeks to be seen as great as she feels she is. She hates comparisons to her father and mother, no matter the intention. She still has much to achieve and one day people will see her more as the spawn of her parents and the legend-in-making that she feels she has the potential to be. The Greatest Diver on Aruth Marina’s confidence and assertions have always been encouraged. Growing up in the Imperial Sea as the daughter of one of the most prolific admirals in the world and possibly the greatest diver-adventurer of her generation, Marina’s parent’s pedigree has always inspired her to think like she was the greatest creation in all of the seas. This has not changed since Marina abandoned the Imperial Sea and sought to become her own woman. Actually, it’s gotten worse. | Aether Abilities Marina’s aether abilities are enhanced by the moon. Specifically, she specializes in the manipulation of the element of water. Marina learned to tap into her aether abilities when she was but a small child, though she was no prodigal genius. Everything she has achieved has been done with a large quantity of hard work and a small degree of talent. This hard work was supplemented by Marina’s attendance as a student of the Imperial Fleet Academy based in proximity to the imperial capital. Though despite having a well-trained connection to her aether sign, Marina still tends to struggle regarding her focus and nerve. But the moon has blessed the purple-haired young adult nonetheless, enhancing Marina’s abilities as a diver and combatant; she envies those who are talented artificers and aether engineers given that she lacks the patience for such things. Marina as an aether user can be aptly described as a utility specialist, which in short means that most of Marina’s combat prowess is done practically rather than magically. Aether exists to enhance Marina’s skills as a diver and adventurer, though in a clutch situation she can be pushed to using her more esoteric abilities that are better suited to combat. Some common aspects and techniques she is prone to utilizing include the following:
Character Conceptualization TBD REWORK |
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