[CHAR] Masks & Magic: The Awakening

Guild Leadership & Staff

Sir Aldric Vale – Wielder of Clarent, the Peacebringer Blade
The acting Guildmaster of the Order of the Lake. Once a decorated hero under a corporate guild, Aldric turned his back on the profiteering system after witnessing what it cost in lives and truth. His sword, Clarent — said to be the twin of Excalibur — embodies redemption and restraint. Aldric believes a true hero’s worth is measured not in victory, but in the courage to stand against corruption.

Mara Hensley – Wielder of the Spear of Nemain
A former professional athlete and now the guild’s assessment overseer, Mara’s calm, commanding presence makes her the first and most intimidating judge of new recruits. Her spear vibrates with the spirit of Nemain, a Celtic battle goddess — it senses deceit and weakness of will. Mara’s approval is rare, but when given, it carries genuine pride.

Dr. Theo Brandt – Rumored to have once wielded Prometheus’ Flame
The benefactor’s chief researcher and liaison to the guild. Always impeccably polite, always watching. He never reveals whether he’s Awakened — though whispers say he once held a weapon tied to the stolen fire of Prometheus. These days, he devotes himself to cataloging Awakening patterns for “philosophical research”… though his smile never quite reaches his eyes.

Gareth “Gearbox” Linnet – Wielder of the Hammer of Goibniu
Head of the Support Division, medic, mechanic, and the guild’s beating heart. Gareth can fix just about anything — machinery, bone fractures, morale. His mythic hammer sparks with divine craftsmanship, capable of repairing metal or mending wounds alike. You’ll always find him with a grin, a wrench, and at least two cups of cold coffee nearby.

Selene Arora – Wielder of the Mirror of Nārāyaṇa
Leader of the Public Relations Division and one of the most composed people in the Order. Once a journalist, now the face that helps the public trust the Awakened. Her enchanted mirror reflects truth and deception alike — both literal and metaphorical. Selene believes in transparency and grace under pressure, though she’s known to strike fear into liars with a single glance.

Senior Heroes

Isolde Crane (Expert) – Wielder of Durandal
Known across the guild as The Silver Warden, Isolde is one of the last veterans of the chaotic first months following the Awakening. She is stoic, unshakable, and fiercely loyal to the ideals of the Order. Her sword, Durandal — the paladin’s blade that never dulls — shines with divine steadiness, reflecting her faith in humanity even when she doubts herself.

Ronan Keel (Adept) – Wielder of Caladbolg
A frontline fighter with a temper as sharp as his sword, Ronan is the embodiment of brute honesty. He speaks bluntly, fights fiercely, and cares deeply — though he’d rather be seen angry than kind. His weapon, Caladbolg, is a blade said to cleave hills; it grows stronger when he fights for others and weaker when driven by rage.

Nadiya Noor (Expert) – Wielder of the Veil of Scheherazade
Once a street vigilante, now a hero and strategist within the Order’s PR division. Nadiya’s weapon — a silken veil of illusions — weaves stories into reality, turning words into shifting truth. Elegant and razor-sharp in her composure, she teaches younger heroes how to master both their image and their heart.

Fellow Recruits

Elias Tran – Wielder of Hrunting, the Flawed Blade
A kind but anxious recruit whose Awakening left his neighborhood scorched and trembling. His weapon, Hrunting, was once Beowulf’s blade — renowned, yet infamous for failing when it mattered most. Elias took it as a sign: even the greatest heroes stumble. He fights to prove that failure doesn’t end a story — it’s where one truly begins.

Kira Voss – Wielder of the Twin Blades of Bellona
A confident, sharp-tongued duelist whose energy fills every room. Kira treats the guild like a proving ground — she fights to be the best, though no one’s sure who she’s trying to prove herself to. Her twin blades, forged in the name of the Roman goddess of war, grow faster and deadlier with each strike, feeding on her relentless drive.

Sarah Oaks - Wielder of the Unknown
A quiet, unassuming recruit with an unshakable composure. She claims her weapon is “too dangerous to draw,” saying it reacts violently to conflict and that she fears harming others with it. Instead, she relies on her enhanced strength, speed, and an almost miraculous ability to recover from injuries. She fights barehanded, using a hybrid of martial arts and instinctive motion — elegant, efficient, and oddly precise.

Juniper “June” Mallory – Wielder of the Tonberry Lantern (Inverted)
A compassionate healer whose lantern burns with cold, silver light. Where the original Tonberry’s lamp heralded doom, June’s reveals the pain others hide, allowing her to heal wounds that have long scarred. She is patient, gentle, and selfless to a fault — but haunted by the one life she couldn’t save before her Awakening.

Rashad Edden – Wielder of the Chain of Andvari
Once a rising star at a corporate guild’s marketing division, Rashad saw firsthand the rot beneath their hero façades. His weapon, a chain of runes named after the cursed hoard of Andvari, binds magic, greed, and deception alike. Practical, sarcastic, and tech-minded, Rashad uses his power to restrain rather than destroy.

Outsiders & Secondary Figures

Mr. Avery Finch – The benefactor of the Order of the Lake.
Rarely seen, but his presence touches everything the guild does. Charismatic and eccentric, Finch seems equal parts idealist and schemer. Rumors claim he’s seen the vision at the lake himself — though no one knows whether as a chosen hero, or merely a man desperate to be one.

Captain Jonah Redd – Wielder of the Spear of Achilles (Prototype)
A government liaison assigned to monitor the Order. Polite but calculating, he’s both ally and threat. His weapon is an artificial replica reverse-engineered from mythic residue — powerful but hollow, a symbol of humanity’s attempt to control what it does not understand.

“Echo” – Wielder of the Sword of Damocles
A rogue hero who drifts between guilds, ally one day and ghost the next. Their spectral sword manifests only in moments of mortal danger, hanging invisibly above its wielder like a warning. To some, Echo is a myth. To others, a reminder that every hero’s glory carries its own peril.

Rumors

Sir Aldric Vale
“They say his sword used to be Excalibur’s twin. Clarent, the blade of peace. Heard it was the sword that betrayed Arthur — and Aldric’s trying to redeem it.”
“He turned down a government contract worth millions just to keep the Order independent. Some call it noble. Others call it stupid.”

Mara Hensley
“You ever notice how her spear hums before a fight? That’s Nemain — the spirit inside. It can smell fear and lies, or so they say.”
“She failed one recruit years ago. The kid died on their first mission. That’s why she’s so damn hard on us.”

Dr. Theo Brandt
“The benefactor’s pet scientist? He’s polite, but there’s something off about him. I saw his hand glow once — just for a second.”
“Some think he’s researching how to create Awakenings. Others think he’s trying to stop them. Maybe both.”

Gareth ‘Gearbox’ Linnet
“Guy can fix anything. Weapons, bones, your bad day. There’s this rumor that when his hammer sparks, it heals your spirit too — like, literally.”
“He jokes a lot, but once, someone mentioned a failed mission. He went quiet for the rest of the week.”

Isolde Crane (The Silver Warden)
“You can still see the burn marks on her armor from the first Awakening riots. She’s been here since the beginning.”
“Her sword Durandal’s said to contain words etched into the metal — stories of heroes long gone. She reads them before every mission, as if reminding herself why she fights.”

Ronan Keel
“They say Caladbolg grows weaker the angrier he gets. I’ve seen it — sword goes dull like it’s ashamed of him.”
“Once, he got so mad in training, he cracked the floor — then fell to his knees apologizing to the blade. Nobody laughed.”

Nadiya Noor
“She can make you believe anything with that voice. Heard her weapon literally turns lies into illusions.”
“If she tells you a story, pay attention. Every one of them’s a warning, even when it sounds like a fairy tale.”

Mr. Avery Finch
“He’s the money behind everything, right? Some say he’s just a rich dreamer. Others say he’s seen the lake himself.”
“Once, during a toast, he said ‘The woman smiled at me, but she didn’t hand me a weapon.’ Nobody knew what to say after that.”

Captain Jonah Redd
“Government watchdog. Pretends to be friendly, but you can feel the leash every time he’s in the room.”
“That spear of his isn’t an Awakening — it’s tech. Shiny, strong, and soulless.”

Echo
“They show up when things get bad. Then vanish again. No one knows what side they’re on.”
“Someone once said the Sword of Damocles doesn’t belong to them — it follows them. Like it’s waiting for their mistake.”

[Yankee]

Cade Sinclair: Svalinn

Basic Information

Name: Cade Sinclair
Age: 23
Gender: Male

Appearance (Before Awakening):
A fair-skinned, lightly freckled young man with an athletic body type built through sports like wrestling and soccer, as well as stolen gym time. He stood about 5'10 (but told people he was 6'), with deep brown eyes and a mop of red hair. His style mostly consisted of shorts, hoodies and athletic wear, though with a surprisingly stylish bent when he can afford it.

Appearance (After Awakening): (In full)
His hair and skin grew slightly paler, duller (save for a bold streak of new color), while his eyes turned a bright, ethereal icy blue. When he goes full throttle it's almost like halos of light form around these eyes, sun through ice.

His body filled out more, he became a little broader, and patterns took shape on his skin. These curling, cold to the touch, angular feathered designs take up the entirety of his back, tapering off as they reach down his hips, his biceps where they crest over his shoulders, and his hair line as they crawl up and around the nape of his neck. At first glance they might appear to be bright white tattoos, but with a closer look it easily becomes apparent that it's a layer of frost embedded in his skin that at times grows or contracts a little but never disappears.

He also grew a little taller, though to his dismay still hasn't broken 6'. Still lies about it. His sense of style hasn't changed much, though he now always dresses more warmly. Like gloves and thermals throughout the year warmly.

Awakening Details

Vision: "Can you save even these people?"

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and would ever see. She stepped towards the shallows framed by a bright sun and rippling golden grass, ice peaked cliffs and warm fertile volcanic soil. She raised her left hand from the water which shimmered with silvery light. She raised her right hand which rippled with reddish heat. She held out the left, an invitation and a challenge. She held out the right, and her eyes suddenly flickered to the space at Cade's side. He looked too, eyes widening in shock.

"Oh my, this is unusual..."

Rank: 1st...?

Summoned Weapon

• Svalinn - Nordic Myth

Lore & Power

Origin Story: The shivering shield of the goddess Sól which hangs in the sky before the sun in Norse mythos. It protects the earth as a whole, allowing humanity to withstand the sun's rays. If it should ever fall, as told by Odin, the entire planet would burn.

Relative Strength: ★★★★★★★✩✩✩
A myth with old, deep roots, concerning the protection of all creation... but in reality it has left the minds of most people and has been overshadowed by more contemporary legends.

Manifestation:
A massive circular iron shield, just over 4' in diameter. It is absolutely as heavy as it looks, though for Cade it might as well be just a big frisbee... since it floats, moving in tune to his will. When manifested but at rest, it hovers at his back. It is slightly concave, and on its face are concentric circles that radiate out from the center where a bubbly depiction of a sun is etched. Within each ring various runes are deeply carved, growing more numerous and elaborate as they reach the final ring on the shield's edge. When Svalinn's chilling magic is used the runes glow by stages according to its output, though even when not actively in use it is so cold to the touch that it can affect the air around it. It also affects Cade himself: he can wield the weapon perfectly fine alone, but if his sister isn't around to thermoregulate him then his frost layer builds up, slowing him down and otherwise negatively affecting his body.

Attributes

• Might: ★★★✩✩
  Already fairly strong as an athlete and vigilante, his Awakening just kicked it up a notch. His weapon is no sword of destruction, but getting domed with a two ton slab of iron still really hurts.
• Agility: ★★✩✩✩
  Not having to worry about lugging said two tons around means his speed doesn't suffer, and the shield is decently swift as it moves. Not the speediest, but good reflexes.
• Endurance: ★★★✩✩
  It's not like Cade has tested it (lies, he totally has), but Svalinn is practically indestructible. Cade himself is not, though Awakening has made him a lot tougher in general.
• Presence: ★★✩✩✩
  He has a strong will, but that's about all he has. It's through his willpower that he forces out his confidence and heroism. He's still working on everything else.
• Instinct: ★★✩✩✩
  A honed intuition since childhood with some experience in getting into fist fights, his instinct is higher than a newly Awakened but far still from that of a trained combatant. He'll get there, though.
• Resonance: ★★★✩✩
  Cade was meant to be a 2nd Rank, with two weapons that would balance each other out and a strong potential for growth. He still has that potential even with only Svalinn, and his resonance level means his side effects are not as pronounced as a certain someone else's.

Guild Information

Heroic Alias: 'Svalinn'
Guild Assessment Result: --
Affiliation: If there is one good thing that the mega-corps have done for the world, it is the creation of the guilds. Though its only been a year, Cade has seen their positive impact for himself. Add the fact that they're the only real way make use of his power without risk of being slapped with a criminal charge or lawsuit and it means that Cade is essentially all-in on guild work, even if their sponsors are suspect to say the least. The Order of the Lake claims to be different, but though Cade is relatively loyal to it he isn't dumb enough to trust said claim at face value.

Background

Personality:
Cade is competitive, critical, and confrontational. He has none of the charm one might expect from a traditional hero, but god damn if he doesn't pretend that he does. He attempts to come off as someone with a cooler head than he has, but needless to say he does a poor job of it. He likens himself to a leader but is the type to unintentionally sabotage others in the field by always going to grab the spotlight. He thinks he is better than everyone else. Scratch that - he is better. He has to be, because if he isn't then what's the point?

For a guy who's awakened weapon is a giant shield meant to protect people, it's sort of funny that there's probably a big does not play well with others notice stamped across his guild file. Hopefully they were nice and wrote teamwork needs improvement instead. Since he lacks true charisma his cocky attitude often rubs people the wrong way, especially if they're able to tell that his self-confidence is rather forced. His cheeky grin just a little too tight. It does not come easily to him, but then again, nothing ever did.

To say that Cade is emotionally closed off would be correct. He is not as trusting as his sister, and not as friendly either (he tries, sometimes). He grew up with a lot of hidden frustrations that he had no outlet for, artistic or otherwise, and he still harbors some of them. There is one person who he can never seem to hide even the smallest thing from, but he tries not to rely on her too much. He doesn't want -doesn't need- to rely on anyone. Because they should be relying on him.

Despite all of the evidence pointing towards a conclusion that Cade is abrasive at best and an asshole at worst, he is trustworthy and responsible enough that even strangers can, in fact, rely on him. To be useful, needed, and important to people are desires he holds in his heart even if at times he doesn't directly acknowledge them. He hates to see people hurting and tends to shoulder any and every burden himself. It may prove difficult, but over time it might be possible for his teammates to see the softer, caring, more playful side to him that he normally only shows to people he loves.

On Awakening:
It's been a couple months since Cade awakened. He actually finds it pretty sweet. Now his path is decided for him, or... more like a role he was destined for has finally appeared. Even though the other half of his Awakening was interrupted, and now he's always just a little cold at minimum even when he isn't using Svalinn, and his body gets tense, stiff, and wracked with shivers in the aftermath when he does if he wasn't close enough to CC, and he's been more prone to getting sick...

It's worth it.

And is he proud of CC for being able to utilize that sword and choosing to help others with it, like he's doing with his shield? Of course he is! She's amazing (don't tell her he said that). But is he also feeling conflicted because Lævateinn was meant to be his? ...yes, of course he is. He is equal parts guilty and jealous, his frustration over both the good and the bad sitting dense in the pit of his stomach.

History:
The Sinclair family was definitely not expecting twins. With their budget they would have struggled to support a third mouth let alone a fourth, but it wasn't exactly something that they could control. Even while living in a metropolis waylaid by corporate price gouging, corporate wage theft, and of course corporate controlled rented flats they chose to keep them. Somehow they'd scrape by.

And they did, for a while. It took years following Cade and Cecilia's birth for things to really go south. The latest round of layoffs had come for their father's job, and suddenly living on one parent's measly paycheck wasn't going to cut it. Yet the job market was brutal, especially for anyone with a shred of pride still left in them. Repeated failure, a sense of emasculation, and escalating arguments between husband and wife led to a building resentment that finally saw their father throw up his hands and walk out. To this day he hasn't come back. Their mother scrambled to make ends meet, taking extra shifts and part-time jobs, but there were too many months in missed rent and no extended family to fall back on. Eventually the kind, hard-working woman had to pack her kids up and leave. They lived in and out of shelters until their mother could secure a tiny, cheap apartment for them.

For Cade, still only a child then, he had to step up. He was now the man of the family. His dad was weak, a quitter. Not like mom, not like CC, and definitely not like him. He had to protect them all from pushy loan sharks preying on the poor, from thieves and creeps that skulked about the city day and night. When he got old enough he took odd jobs too, anything to help out even just a little. He liked to think his efforts really helped his mom so that she could rest easier knowing that every time she had to leave the twins alone that they'd be alright so long as Cade had anything to say about. They were on their own together more often than not after all, when they went to and from their crappy public school and when they waited for mom's shifts to end at home. As they grew up things got easier, all three of the Sinclairs working their asses off to get to a better place. By the time Cade and CC were in their final years of high school it seemed to have paid off; with Cade actually able to work part-time himself their mom didn't have to handle everything alone, and CC had even landed a scholarship for college.

Things were changing for the better, but there was a weird new twisted feeling in Cade's gut. He and CC had been extremely close growing up; they'd had to share everything out of necessity, and really only had each other to rely on, on top of being twins. And now she was going to head off to college for her art, a passion she shared with their mother that the woman had needed to give up. That similarity Cade didn't have had already driven a little bit of a wedge between his mom and himself, hastening her son's independence, but if it was going to mean growing apart from CC too... then what was he supposed to do? What did he even want out of life? He'd done great in his school sports teams (the ones that hadn't kicked him out for his attitude), but wasn't scouted. He'd made sure to keep his grades up near the top of his class, but he wasn't even close to valedictorian. There were many things he was good at but none he was best in, though not for lack of trying. He didn't have something that he wanted to truly chase.

So he applied for a grant, and after being surprised that it was given it to him, simply followed CC to further education. When he told her it was because he was worried about her going off on her own, it wasn't totally a lie. He took only the bare minimum amount of classes, spending more time working and putting money into the siblings' shitty shared room on city campus. Discontent but not quite able to place the feeling, Cade used what free time he had on certain extracurriculars. The kind that involved going out at night with bandanas wrapped around faces and baseball bats with words like justice written on them.

It was easy for Cade to fall into the vigilantism movement. He was an effected and frustrated youth. He had seen the city's bad side over and over, but he'd also met the few on the good side, and it was clear to him which one he'd rather be on. It started with coming upon a mugging while walking home after a night class. He wasn't a child anymore, he could provide tangible help - so he did. He returned to the apartment with a bruised cheek and split lip, but had ended up with a grateful new friend. The guy asked Cade to join a small posse to help make sure his girlfriend's boss never harassed her again, which they did by putting the man into a hospital. And from there recruited to larger movements, participating in more organized action under cover night. And, sometimes, even just solo rocking a scarf and goggles as he acted as free campus security.

It was something. It provided a decent physical way to de-stress, a little feeling that he was doing some good. He couldn't exactly get away with making up excuses for the wounds he returned home with, especially after the whole 'Awakening' thing started and it turned out a gaggle of well-meaning citizens was no match for one dude with a glowing sword. They'd barely escaped with their lives. These new ridiculous 'villains' had been showing up more an more, and it pissed Cade off that they were using their weird powers for petty things.

It sure would be nice to get one of those glowing swords himself though.

That night had been particularly rough. Cade made CC promise not to tell their mom, and in turn promised her that he'd be fine. This was all fine. It was something. He was doing something. Eventually, even if only a little, he would help make the city a safer, better place. For everyone, for CC - as long as he could make sure she'd always be there, could keep her safe--

"Can you save even these people?"

Motivation: It is, a little bit, what he's always wanted to do. Besides, why would he hurt people when he could help them instead?
...besides the villains he'll be fighting of course. Perpetuating the cycle of violence is based when its against unrepentant evildoers.

Optional:
Side Roles: Journalist sounds fun, so if needed I can certainly play a journalist every now and then! Also wouldn't mind playing a villain or two, minor, recurring or otherwise.

Theme Song / Quote: TBD

[Lemons]

Cecilia 'CC' Sinclair: Lævateinn

Cecilia 'CC' Sinclair

23 Years Old • Female

---

Basic Information

Appearance (Before Awakening) CC is rather tall for a woman. At 5'10", she was always glad she could meet her brother's eyes level instead of having to look up at him. She has fair skin spattered with freckles, and had a long mane of gleaming coppery-red hair that she was immensely proud of. Her face is sharp and angular, set with eyes that were a deep, expressive brown, and often wears a smug smirk, because that's frankly just the person she is. She had slender arms, ending in delicate hands with slim, dexterous fingers, all the better to hold a brush. All that said, she's not weak, she has tight, wiry muscles. But of course, she's not a body-builder or anything. Just...not soft.

Most of her clothing has some kind of paint stain somewhere on it, ranging from little specks along a hem to an enormous neon-blue splash across almost the entire front of a white tanktop that she kept because frankly she thinks it looks cool. She has a slender athletic build, and has a tendency to bounce her knees or tap her feet. She's fond of makeup, treating it as an extension of her art and herself as a living canvas.

She carries herself with a bouncy, energetic stride, like she's listening to a nonexistent playlist, and had a habit of snapping her fingers to the beat, whether 'the beat' even existed or not.

Appearance (After Awakening) CC has had one of the more obvious changes in her Awakening. To start, her copper hair brightened into a vivid flame-red, and her brown eyes ignited into an unnatural searing orange. When she's exerting herself, and her heat is rising, they blaze with their own firelight.

But, debatably more noticeably: both of her arms--on her left, from the elbow down, on her right, the entire arm up to the shoulder--have gained the appearance and texture of black stone, running with cracks and veins of bright red light. Like cooling lava. They glow in low light and have their own heat. Not hot enough to give you blisters upon touch, but more than hot enough to be uncomfortable. Like touching the hood of a black car in hundred-degree weather.

Even for her, actually.

It makes things like showering a constant trial, and sometimes she still puts a hand on her hip and is rewarded for her reflex with that sharp burning discomfort. She dresses more sparsely than she used to. Even long-sleeve shirts are often uncomfortably warm for her now; she lives firmly in the "tanktops or tee shirts and shorts when it's ten degrees outside" area. She's still a fan of makeup, but not being able to comfortably touch her face has certainly made it more difficult. She occasionally still tries to snap her fingers, but being made of stone puts a dent in that for sure. Unfortunately, without these hands she probably wouldn't even be able to hold Lævateinn.

She's also not as tall as her brother anymore, and she is not happy about it.

Awakening Details

Vision: She was just putting the finishing touch on a painting she'd worked on for weeks, just the last few rays of light from the clouds left. Tongue sticking out in concentration, she brought the brush up one last time...

"Oh my, this is unusual. How did you get here?"

What? Huh? Where was she? What was going on? The feeling of sun on her face and grass beneath her bare feet, breezes tickling her back with her hair, the crisp clean smell of the air, the soft susurration of the lakeshore softly lapping...

And the impossibly gorgeous woman who was standing before her. She stared back, utterly bewildered. Part of her wanted to answer: 'I don't know!' But somehow speaking to her like that felt against all the laws of nature. So instead, she turned to the person that was somehow standing next to her.

"Cade, what the hell is going on?"

Rank: Functionally a 1st Rank, technically half of a 2nd Rank (more on that later).
Summoned Weapon(s)

• Lævateinn - Norse Myth

Lore & Power

Origin Story: Lævateinn is a weapon shrouded by mystery and the long passage of time. Many interpretations have come and gone. Including the sword of the fire giant Surtr.

And it is clear that is where CC's Lævateinn finds its origin. A great blade wreathed in impossibly hot flame, raised at the gods to herald the end of all things.
Relative Strength: 7 - Well-known enough to have infiltrated pop culture and the collective consciousness, but it's no Mjolnir.
Manifestation: Lævateinn is an enormous greatsword longer than CC is tall with a hilt of size to match. The blade is as red as her new hair, and the great hilt and guard are the black of volcanic basalt. It glows brightly with a violent light and can be set aflame at a thought (sometimes. More on that later). If people with no measure of resistance touch it, it will inflict severe burns almost immediately, it outputs a tremendous amount of heat.
Attributes

• Might: 5 - It's a huge fuckoff fire sword. Each strike would already be a volcanic eruption, even if it didn't improve her physical strength by a large amount. But because it did she'll obliterate anything you point her at.
• Agility: 1 - But that's only if she can hit it. CC never meant to be a hero, so she's entirely untrained in combat; and she has a very large weapon, so quick maneuvering is something that she really has to get the hang of.
• Endurance: 2 - This requires a bit more explanation. 2 is the level for purely her physical endurance, as a distance runner (though of course running and swordplay require very different muscle groups). But most of the time--that is to say, unless she's fighting alongside Cade who can thermoregulate her--she sits squarely at a 1. The limit on her combat isn't usually physical exhaustion, but heat. With a body that was never adapted to wield Lævateinn until it suddenly dropped in on her, it builds up heat quickly, and she can't manage exertion AND its heat for too long before she starts suffering from heat symptoms, rapidly escalating from heavy sweating to heat stroke if she doesn't manage it properly.
• Presence: 4 - Overconfident and cocky though she may be, her outgoing nature and extroversion collide to give her a kind of magnetic personality, even if she can be obnoxious at times. Her 'heroic ideal' may be atrophied, as she never intended to be one; but even so, she has an undeniable force of personality. And she's headstrong and stubborn, so even without a strong heroic ideal, her willpower is undeniably strong.
• Instinct: 2 - Not to belabor a point, but she never intended to be a hero, and so her training in any kind of combat is nonexistent. She's saved from a 1 purely because she's fairly quick-witted and observant to begin with, so with any luck she'll get better here before too long, she's a quick learner.
• Resonance: 1 - Cecilia was never meant to wield Lævateinn, and it knows. Consequently, their connection is tenuous and unstable at times; like, for example, lighting on fire without her actually meaning it to. It reacts strongly to her emotions, and it will remain as such until she earns its metaphorical trust. The is also the source of her inability to properly modulate her temperature while in combat.

Guild Information

Heroic Alias: 'Lævateinn'
Guild Assessment Result: [placeholder]
Affiliation: Cecilia doesn't care much for the guilds at all. But Cade does, and she cares a great deal for Cade. So she's loyal to the Guilds strictly by proxy.

Background

Personality: CC has a very particular personality that people usually either love or hate (or hate to love). She's overconfident and cocky, and a smirk is a constant fixture on her face. But she's also highly social, very extroverted and outgoing. She makes friends easily, even if sometimes she can have some trouble keeping them for any length of time. She has a blindingly bright smile, even if a lot of the time it's rooted in being way too confident and probably being punished for it in some way.

That being said, all the easy (and obnoxious) confidence of CC's outward personality can't fully get in the way of a major cardinal piece of her: she is kind. Fitting a bit into the jerk-with-a-heart-of-gold archetype, as much as she'll preen, or poke fun at other people in a way that some might find mean-spirited, if she finds someone in need, she'll still put herself out to help them. This isn't helped by something that her brother has cautioned her about endlessly: she is trusting to a fault. Suspicion isn't something that plays heavy on her mind when she's meeting anybody for the first time, partially born from that sheer confidence. It has definitely gotten her into trouble before, but it's still just as present.

The last major piece of her personality is her relationship with her creativity. For those who only know her as a bit of a massive pain in the ass, it can be a bit of a shock the first time they see her buckle down on one of her pieces: in a vast departure from her cockiness, she is serious about her art. If she wasn't, she probably wouldn't have gone to school for it. The constant haze of heat that surrounds her hands mean that it's difficult for her to get close to the canvas without ruining the oil paint that she most often uses, and of her Awakening, that's the part that bothers her the most. She spent four years studying how to paint, and now her whole life's been turned upside down without even being able to paint in the style she knows. It's always been an important outlet for her negative feelings, and having it suddenly locked off really isn't good for her mental health.

History:

The Sinclair family was never the best off.

Living in corporate hell as they did, their decision to have even one child was one they came to after extended deliberation. What they did not expect was for their one child to become two. Their money was already tight; after all, it wasn't like there was generous maternity or paternity leave. But against advice, they chose to keep both children. They'd make it work somehow.

And they did, for a while. Cecilia and Cade didn't have a childhood of plenty by any means, but they didn't go hungry or have to skip schooling to work as kids. It was during this time--when two paychecks kept life stable for the twins--that CC first saw her mom painting. It was a passion of their mother's, but with the two of them, she'd been forced to almost give it up. But she still found time, once every blue moon, to pull out her watercolors and spend a few precious minutes with her art.

Well, until she couldn't anymore.

After their dad walked out on them following his layoff and constant arguments with their mom, CC's comfortable life shattered. In the ensuing maelstrom of missed rent and financial ruin, CC grabbed one thing, half out of impulse and half out of a desire to go back: the watercolor palette. She was an emotional wreck during their series of moves in and out of shelters. But CC had always known what Cade was thinking, and she saw how much pressure he put on himself, even if he was just kid like her. And her mom was stretching herself so thin she barely had time to do anything at all outside of working and sleeping. So she decided right then and there that she wasn't going to be someone that they had to just...take care of. She was going to be someone who could take care of herself so they didn't need to. She wasn't gonna cry, ever.

It was a childish promise that she inevitably would never be able to keep. She wasn't like Cade. She was awful at hiding any of her emotions, wore what she was feeling on her sleeve more often than not. She definitely cried, and not infrequently. But that stubborn insistence gave her enough of a foothold on emotional stability that she could get through school. It let her spend her time at home with Cade waiting for their mom to come home. It let her poke fun at her brother now and then, because she could feel some of the fun burning out of him and the thought scared her more than she ever let him know. The two of them were almost always together; at school, at home, in the same bunk bed, on the weekend, they were like each others' shadows.

By the time the twins were in high school, life had gotten a little easier for them. Working their asses off meant that their mom could finally take a well-deserved rest after raising two teenagers on her own. Things had reached a kind of stability. She took her schooling as seriously as she could. But Cade always outstripped her in grades, because at night, after her part time job, when he studied, she would take that same palette of watercolors out and paint. Night after night, even when only a fragment of pigment was left in each cup. Then she took the plunge to take some of the money that she'd earned, go out one day, and buy some brushes and a set of cheap oil paints. Her grades...really didn't improve. At all. But her art did. She blossomed, really starting to develop her own style and come into her own as a painter. And her obsession with painting didn't go unnoticed. When the final year of high school came and she dared to apply to art school...

Well, she definitely cried when she told her family she'd gotten a full ride.

She also cried when she learned that Cade had gotten a grant to go to school too. She hadn't let him know, obviously, nor their mom; but the idea of leaving both of them to go live off on her own scared the hell out of her. She'd never not, of course; she knew that her mom had wanted to study art when she was younger, and was determined to be the artist that she never could. But it didn't make it any less scary. So Cade being there with her would make her feel so much better.

The second she got the chance, she buckled down and applied herself like she'd never applied herself before. Flew forward in ever class; her childhood had given a work ethic that some of the other students there could only dream of. Now that she was finally free to spread her wings, she lunged forward at every chance. She did feel bad, though; because she was focusing so hard on her studies, Cade didn't have time to. After all, someone needed to keep the place they lived functional. It was a constant guilt that dug little fishhooks into her skin. But, she rationalized, as soon as she graduated and started working as an artist proper, she could start really making some actual money and pay Cade back for all he'd done.

And then, of course, the dumbass had to start getting into vigilantism. The first time he'd come back to their dorm with his face busted up, she'd just about had a heart attack then and there. She wanted more than anything else for him to stop. What if he got hurt? Like, not a black eye hurt, but hurt hurt? But she knew her brother. And he knew that the bonehead wasn't going to stop if she asked. So all she could bring herself to ask was for him to be careful! The idea that he was in danger weighed on her mind constantly. But she still flew through school, graduating summa cum laude with high honors. She did her best to ignore the news every time vigilantism came up, especially after the advent of Awakening. Every time she thought about it, there was a painful squeeze in her chest. It started to leak into her mind when she was working on art, too, now. He was in danger, wasn't he? All the time. She wished she could do something. Wished she could help him somehow--

"Oh my, this is unusual. How did you get here?"

Motivation: She didn't want this. She certainly didn't ask for it. But it happened. And with her boneheaded brother constantly throwing himself at danger, what kind of sister would she be if she didn't use her new big fuckoff fire sword to help?

Optional

Side Roles: (Do you also want to play a supporting character — civilian, journalist, opportunist, etc.?)
Theme Song / Quote: (Just for flavor if you like.)

[Haha]

Eleanor Lindel: Red Riding

Click?

_______________

---

Name: Eleanor Lindel
Alias/Hero Name: Red Riding
Age: 30

Gender: ♀

Appearance (Before Awakening) _{Ele was quite the unimposing figure once upon a time. Her frame was frail, and were it not for the stark characteristics of Scandinavian genetics, the woman wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. While her stature was taller than some, sickly pale complexion and a dark circles ringed around large sky blue eyes. Maybe in another life a gaudy salaryman would’ve come to sweep her off her feet? Those types did tend to marry the tall blondes, but a lacking of healthiness accompanying the void of confidence left Ele a shell of a woman magnified by that state and her age.}

Appearance (After Awakening) Red Riding’s masquerade is that of a toned, slightly shorter, and more form-fit for the mission that has been set before her. The golden tinge to her hair mutes and dulls till it seems nearly washed out, and the length of it is shorter and roughly cut at a length just above the shoulder with messy bangs. The one sapphire irises now glow an eerie golden color that shimmer through the darkness like the eyes of a predator absorbing as much light possible to better see.

Awakening Details

Vision: ”Escape your fate.” A sudden spiraling downward filled with the rush of blood to one’s face and the rapid drumming of a heartbeat. Down- down- down towards an endless forest. Upon the moist soil came a gentle capture, an embrace of nature itself. Separating herself from the earth would then come the howl of a wolf.

Rank: Second (2)
Summoned Weapon(s)

• The Red Hood
• Grandmother’s Basket

Lore & Power

Origin Story: An old fairy tale by Charles Perrault about a young girl traversing through a dangerous forest in order to deliver food to her sick grandmother. The story has been reimagined and retold countless times over the generations, and even as cultures change the story takes on new meanings under new lights with each addition and fantastical imagining given to it.

Relative Strength: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻

Manifestation: A swarm of red—winged butterflies flutter around Ele to slowly form the cloak and hood. Upon her personage it seems to flow and flicker as if it has a life of its own. Along with the cloak to accompany it is a simple wicker basket that is covered by a simple red-plaid handkerchief.

The titular hood of Red Riding allows its wearer to hastily make their way to a particular destination unimpeded. The hero’s speed is amplified to a significant degree and path is laid out for only her to see, optimizing the best path to reach their goal. The basket is less of a [weapon] and more of a utility tool that is used in unison with the abilities bestowed upon her by the hood. The fabled item carries what is necessary to help those at her destination, whatever that may be. If there is a raging inferno she conjures a fire hose from within the basket to put out the flame.

Attributes

• Might: ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻
  Physical prowess on a strength level is not where Red Riding’s power resides. While she is still stronger than an unawakened human on a biological level, if she is required to engage in melee combat Ele will use her wits rather than her muscles.
• Agility: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼
  This is where the Red Hood shines brightest! While she is not faster than light, the mythology of Riding Hood traversing a dangerous forest safely allows its wearer to always arrive at their destination. She’ll always make the jump, she’s never late, and sometimes circumstances work in her benefit to make it so.
• Endurance: ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻
  While not lacking as much in durability as she does in strength, her stamina is slightly above average among others that have awakened. She can take a few hits before heeling over, but a strong enough attack will send her off like a piece of paper in the wind.
• Presence: ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻
  There is no bravado here. Ele’s Red Hood might even reduce the amount of presence she gives off intentionally. She blends into crowds incredibly well, and while she doesn’t like the spotlight that being a hero brings onto her— she does enjoy helping people.
• Instinct: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻
  Above average in this statistic, Ele’s strange canid mutations gained along with the Red Hood’s other boons allow her senses to higher than usual. Sight in particular is greatly modified to such a degree that not only can she see in complete darkness, but the distance of her vision is increased as well.
• Resonance: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻
  Just like her instincts, her resonance with the Red Hood rated at above average when measured by officials. Ele feels as if the Hood “chose” her to some level, and has a strange relationship with the awakening itself. But in that obsession she has put no resistance in adopting the gifts it gave her.

Guild Information

Guild Assessment Result: (To be revealed IC—leave blank until after your initiation scene if you’d like.)
Affiliation: Highly skeptical of the guilds and the powers that run them.

Background

Personality: Before her awakening, Eleanor was a closed-off shut-in that more often than not abstained from sleeping or eating for days at a time in order to remain fully distracted and absorbed by niche forums and image boards. The crippling shame of failure consumed her life while rapidly diminishing physical health kept her down and increasingly self-destructive to herself and her family. Suicide wasn’t off the table for Ele at this point in her life.

Her awakening was a turning point in her life. Of course, it would be for almost anyone who goes through the transformation, but Eleanor’s vision before obtaining the cowl of Red Riding Hood changed her on a fundamental level. She felt as if this new chance at life was bestowed upon her by a higher power— not necessarily god but something was reaching out to her.

This mindset turned the anxious women into a strange sort of hero material, one that is borderline incapable of thinking of her own well-being in exchange for a laser-focus on accomplishing her mission. She spends little to any time socializing amongst her peers, offering perspective to strangers, or even accepting thanks for those she may rescue.

Even still, her social awkwardness remains.

History: Old money families are a strange sort. In Europe they’ll often socialize within smaller circles to avoid the apprehensive eyes of less fortune common folks and maintain relationships that may date back hundreds of years. They’ll keep their appearances positive in the public eye by throwing fractions of their wealthy at charity, filming good deeds that can be edited and framed in the most charitable view, and all the while being gross and slimy beneath that facade.

That’s the sort of family Eleanor comes from.

The Lindel family’s roots trace back to Sweden but sometime in the nineteenth century relocated to the Americas in order to escape the torches and pitchforks back home. Their old European roots remain, but their history is littered with questionable business affiliations that are kept hidden from the public. To the Everyman, a Lindel is simply the successful story of an immigrant that clawed their way to wealth. Most people don’t even know the family’s roots and simply sees them as that company that benevolently fund a lot of research in the medical industry. When the guilds began to spring up in this newest era, Eleanor’s mother and father were the family’s current heads with her mother leading in PR while father publically integrated with the guild known as The Old Charges.

Eleanor herself wasn’t in the spotlight all that much, even though her parents would’ve liked her to be. Her focus was primarily on education. Private schooling and streamlined courses to quickly move her through the system and into college early, leading Ele to having a few degrees under her belt early in life.

But unfortunately, academia was not what her family had in mind for their daughter and despite being an esteemed microbiologist among her peers, she would be prepared for an engagement with Mason Halliwell. Marriage to Mason would further the solid connection between her family and the Old Charges guild as Mason was the chairman’s son, whom her father had interacted with numerous times over the years.

Eleanor had met Mason a few times throughout the years, and most of those interactions were quite amicable. He was normal, which isn’t all that common among the circles her family mingled with. He was also respectful, and that even carried on into his older years when this late-age arranged marriage took place. She didn’t hate Mason, quite frankly she was fond of him and didn’t have any reservations about marrying him.

That was— until she found out what his family actually did.

The revelation of what The Old Charges were doing while pretending to be a reputable and well-natured guild sent Eleanor down a rabbit hole. Her research led her to research her own father’s connections to the same group, and how her own family was involved in much of the same criminal activities that they were. She cut contact with her family, with academia, and used what money she had accumulated to survive in a small apartment where her depression turned into obsession and each year she lost more of her humanity.

Motivation: To root out corruption that lies at the root of the guilds.

---

_______________

[Burger]

Lynnwood Murphy: Nezha

_{The Platonic Ideal of a Hero}
Lynnwood Murphy
Shining Girl
^{20 • F}

Basic Information

Appearance (Before Awakening)
Murphy didn't look like a hero before her awakening. Standing at 4'8"--a height she had reached in age typical of first year middle schooler--she often looked like someone who needed saving. Well, saving or a stepstool. Nigh untameable locks of blonde hair rested on her head. Her eyes--a vivid bright blue--were equal parts beautiful and disturbing as they seemed to peer beyond. Despite her size, she had a rather athletic build similar to a gymnast.

Appearance (After Awakening)
Murphy didn't look like a hero after her awakening, either. Surprisingly, Murphy's body didn't change much--if at all. Her hair became longer and she became more dense (see: she weighs twice as much with no aesthetic change to her body), but outside of that, she's still nearly the exact same as before. The only unique thing about her appearance is that no matter how many times she cuts her hair, it appears to grow back to its full length every night.

Awakening Details

Vision: The cold mist-laden air that obscured the distant mountains. The serene water rippling as the woman took measured steps. Stone pillars topped with greenery--like tens of blades staked deep into the ground, only their handles exposed. "Hold true," the words spoken to her.
Rank: 4th
Summoned Weapon(s)

• The Wind Wheel - Chinese Mythology
• The Fire Wheel - Chinese Mythology
• The Universal Ring - Chinese Mythology
• Fire-tipped Spear - Chinese Mythology

Lore & Power

Origin Story: Murphy's weapons come from the armaments that Nezha wields in the Fengshen Yanyi.
Relative Strength: 8
Manifestation: The Wind and Fire Wheel take the form of two 10-inch burning chakrams that Murphy is able to control using telekinesis at very short distances. This gives her the ability to utilize them as what effectively amounts to both circular saws and skates as she floats them below her feet.

The Universal Ring takes the form of an ornate golden ring. Unlike her chakrams, the ring lacks any sort of telekinetic ability. Instead, it can rapidly expand and contract on her command as a tool to restrain and defend.

The Fire-tipped Spear is a 6' ornate Chinese spear that, like its name, has a tip clad in fire. Beyond the flame and the strength of a weapon, it doesn't have any special properties.

Attributes

• Might: 1
• Agility: 3
• Endurance: 1
• Presence: 5
• Instinct: 2
• Resonance: 3

Guild Information

Guild Assessment Result: (To be revealed IC—leave blank until after your initiation scene if you’d like.)

Affiliation: Murphy's opinion of guilds is contentious. Of course, a hero needs the ability to form their superteam--that much is required. However, guilds and corporations are antithetical to the concept of a hero. As such, Murphy's position on them is rather begrudging.

Background

Personality: Murphy is a rather boisterous woman. An endless fountain of optimism, Murphy spends each day speaking at the top of her lungs and staying true to her ideals as a hero. At times, she acts as more of a caricature of a hero rather than a normal person. Though, it's apparent that she is simply playing up the moment in as if in some sort of theatrical performance.

She enjoys sweets and the small things in life. Even though she is willing to stake her health on heroic endeavours and will fight risking life and limb, she still finds exhilaration in going down a playground slide. She also has a stark infatuation with the concept of heroes and villains. She knows quite a lot about the personas that make up their little game.

At times, she shows signs of knowledge, wisdom, and intelligence. But those moments are also undercut by Murphy immediately saying something in a cutesy voice while referring to herself in the third person.

When under duress, her optimistic veil can sometimes slip for a brief moment. A dispassionate expression would cover her face for a few seconds or she may say something in an uncharacteristically serious tone. Of course, these moments quickly fade as she moves back into her heroic persona.

History: Murphy's childhood was strange. Unlike most, she never grew up in the typical urban lifestyle that was so afflicted by the interests of corporations and the game. Her parents were museum-owning archaeologists more concerned with research and fieldwork than participating in an urban rat race. As such, the Murphys brought their young daughter with them as they travelled the world in search of artifacts and antiques.

This world also had its fair share of villains. Though at the time, it would probably be more apt to call them recurring criminals. But it was a world that remained isolated from the the cruelties of society. After all, there was a certain absurdity in regards to fighting the same criminals over Ming dynasty vases or ancient inscribed tablets.

The young Murphy was undoubtedly affected by this. Her itinerant lifestyle, which entertained her with books, comics, and cartoons, filled the young adventurer with a childish naivety. While her parents could teach her everything she needed in terms of academia, they struggled to teach the girl common sense.

But she couldn't remain a child forever. Her days of adventure had to come to an end. That end was with the passing of her parents. They hadn't been slain by a villain nor had they passed from a grand misadventure. They had passed rather anticlimactically from a regional outbreak of illness.

Murphy was sent back to the city she could vaguely call home--though she had no real connection to the city, but it was instead where her parents museum and non-profit were located. Her parents had bequeathed her with them in the form of a trust. She would never want in her lifetime. She wanted to do something, but she couldn't really follow in her parents footsteps. The museum and non-profit were set up to run without her involvement--and it wasn't like she had a PhD or any business acumen anyways.

Those childish delusions she had never went away. And so called the lady as Murphy awakened.

Motivation: Why did Murphy become a hero instead of a villain? Rather simply, it was because in the game of heroes and villains, she saw being a hero in the world as being more aligned with her ideals.

As to why she follows heroic ideals in such earnest, she often raises a finger to her lips. She doesn't want to break the veil.

Optional
Side Roles: N/A
Theme Song / Quote:

[n0cturnal1]

Takane Sato: Jack the Ripper (False)

Jack the Ripper

Basic Information

Name: Sato Takane
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Appearance (Before Awakening) Your average Japanese salaryman, complete with a corporate-trained smile.

Appearance (After Awakening) Physiologically speaking, Sato remains the same with only very minute physical changes due to the subtle nature of his armament. The one prominent change is that his eyes are now a rich crimson, and they are capable of seeing in complete darkness as clear as day. His sense of fashion, however...

Awakening Details

Vision: A calm midnight under the light of the full moon as it dances across a tranquil lake. A disembodied voice of a lady asks what her knight desires, sending ripples across the once still waters. His answer...
Rank: 2nd (∞)
Summoned Weapon(s)

• Llen Arthyr yng Nghernyw (King Arthur's Cloak of Invisibility) - Arthurian Myth
• Carnwennan - Arthurian Myth
• Carnwennan
• Carnwennan...

Lore & Power

Origin Story: Arthurian Myth, primarily in the Welsh tradition.
Relative Strength: 8. King Arthur's cloak is one of the "Thirtreen Treasures of the British Isles" and follows a world-famous legend of the "cloak of invisibility." Carnwennan is one of King Arthur's most treasured possessions, and is part of the Holy Trinity of weapons given by God to King Arthur and denoting his status as the Promised King.
Manifestation: The Cloak of Invisibility is, get this, invisible and is always kept on Sato's person. It has the passive abilities of "suppressing one's presence" and "allowing the user to see in the dark." The Cloak can be pulled over the wearer, allowing them to disappear from all spectrums of light, although it is difficult to maintain this when in the midst of combat.

Carnwennan is Sato's primary weapon, and takes the shape of a dagger with a white hilt, its blade surrounded in a faint miasma of shadows. Called the "King of Shadows," Carnwennan is said to grant its wielder both the ability to shroud themselves in shadows and bring darkness to the world.

In Sato's case, as long as Carnwennan remains on his person, he is capable of creating shadowy copies of the blade, holding a seemingly endless supply of knives. These copies disappear not long after they leave the wielder's grasp, though they can be utilized as thrown weapons at medium ranges, disappearing as soon as they strike their mark. Naturally, their range and power both improve while in darkness.

Carnwennan, itself, possesses the inverse ability of "cutting through shadows," its blade capable of slicing through illusions and sorcery as it had been utilized by King Arthur to slay the witch Orddu. There seems to be more powers tied to Carnwennan such as greater shadow manipulation and being able to "slay giants," but these capabilities are yet to be discovered due to Sato's low Resonance.

Attributes

• Might: 1 - All office workers have had to lift the photo copier at least once in their lifetime.
• Agility: 5 - The agility of a beast coupled with the expertise in handling knives. As the "King of Shadows," Sato was bestowed with the speed to dodge even light itself. The most unnatural of his abilities.
• Endurance: 1 - Actually Sato's natural endurance, standing a step above humanity forged by countless hours of overnight shifts.
• Presence: 2 - Despite being an unassuming salaryman who wishes to avoid the spotlight, he carries a dreadful aura around him...
• Instinct: 5 - The instincts of a predator hunting its prey synchronized with Sato's natural intelligence. Spotting a vulnerability in an opponent's defenses is the same as finding an extra zero on an Excel spreadsheet.
• Resonance: 1 - Aside from a letter opener, Sato has never properly used a knife in his life, relying mostly on his beastly dexterity and intuition.

Guild Information

Guild Assessment Result:
Affiliation: No matter how you slice it, Sato continues to be screwed over by the corporations even after Ascension. As long as he's getting paid, it doesn't matter in the end.

Background

Personality: A man who simply wishes not to stand out. This isn't due to being shy or possessing a reticent nature. After all, Sato closes deals with a winning smile and a firm handshake. Rather, Sato prefers to avoid recognition and the spotlight, desiring to live his life without scrutiny. A life-form suited for the megacorporate world, Sato is one who is quite content with living from paycheck to paycheck. He sees his awakening as just another side hustle to add to his daily grind. He's had to pick up night shifts before.

An otherwise unremarkable man if not for his awakening, his keen mind was focused primarily on "staying as completely mundane as possible." It is only after his awakening that Sato's potential began to truly shine. He carries the measure of a "king," yet lacks the ambition to take his crown.

It seems, however, that a "switch" has occurred after being awakened, particularly when he takes off his glasses. Sato's ambition grows, and he takes on the persona of a vicious predator hunting his prey in the shadows of the night. It's because of this that he has been given the moniker of a very different British figure than the one related to his awakening. Perhaps this was the corporate "wolf" that had laid dormant within him for so long, or maybe the hours of unpaid overtime are finally getting to his head.

History: A worker ant amongst worker ants, Sato's life was nothing particularly exciting. Growing up, he was told he has potential to be better, but Sato learned from a young age that "potential" didn't matter in a world ruled by capitalism. If you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you had to dig through the muck and mire with the rest of society.

His awakening was a matter of happenstance, or so he says. During a graveyard shift in a lonely corporate office, his place of worked was attacked by masked vandals looking to start a revolution or something. As much as Sato wanted to tell them attacking the little man is not going to bring down the big fish, it was a bit hard to argue with a sturdy wooden slugger smashing into his face and knocking him out cold.

Then he had that weird dream with some woman in a pond asking him what his wish was.

When Sato finally came to, he was clutching an admittedly sick knife, surrounded by the bodies of the vandals. What was strange was they all had what looked like shadowy blades sticking out from their backs, fading away as the authorities came.

Needless to say, Sato got that promotion he deserved, but never wanted.

Before he applied for the Order of the Lake, Sato attempted to sign up for the independent agency known as the "Shadow Wizard Money Gang." However, he was denied due to being unable to cast any spells.

Motivation: Better insurance policy.

Optional
Side Roles: Probably not, too busy as much as I'd love to lead an army of salarymen.
Quotes:
"I better be getting overtime for this..."
"Is this covered under my policy?"
"Being a villain sounds like such a phony deal."
"Normally, I'd turn a blind eye, but unfortunately for you, it's payday."
Theme Song:

[TruthHurts]

A hero of hearts and words

Basic Information

Name: Andrew Callum
Age: 48
Gender: Male
Appearance (Before Awakening): Andrew was a slight and unassuming man, barely over 5'5" with no muscle mass to speak of, along with glasses and a penchant for sweater vests like he was trying to be a walking nerd stereotype. Dirty blond hair with straight blunt ends that never went past his cheeks, ruddy complexion, stubble on his chin that never seemed to go away. The only striking things about him were murky green eyes like swamp water in the fog and a set of persistent callouses on his knuckles. Otherwise, he wasn't much to write home about.

Appearance (After Awakening): Now, though, Andrew was like a whole new man. Sprouted no less than a whole foot taller, he gained a much stockier physique, broad shoulders and thick limbs and angular jaw distancing him from being another face in the crowd. His hair had an insane bit of growth as well, flowing locks down to his shoulder blades (though he tends to keep it tied up some kind of tight ponytail or bun, since it can't be cut anymore). He keeps the same fashion sense and mannerisms, however, awkward in handling his new body.

Awakening Details

Vision: A cliff; behind him, a dense leafless forest, ahead a vast plain teeming with life and hope. A group of all ages stands at the edge of the cliff in front of him, facing the new world with heads held high. A sense of pride fills him, a wistfulness more sweet than bitter, knowing that they will succeed.
Rank: 2nd
Summoned Weapon(s)

• Sharur - Mesopotamian myth
• Sword of Freyr (Sumarbrander) - Norse myth

Lore & Power

Origin Story:
Sharur was the weapon and symbol of Ninurta, God of healing, scribes, and war. Its name means “smasher of thousands”. Sharur could communicate with its user and fly across vast distances on its own, functioning as an emissary as well as a weapon in times of strife.
The Sword of Freyr is said to be able to fight of its own will, should the wielder be wise enough to receive its power. Notably Freyr did not use the sword himself, giving it up in exchange for the goddess Gerðr’s hand in marriage. This would leave him defenseless when Ragnarok came to pass, ensuring his death.
Relative Strength: 5, all around. The armaments of gods have good power to throw around, but their ties to their respective mythos are minor in the grand scheme of things, oft overlooked for weapons with more pomp and circumstance.
Manifestation: Callum's weapons appear in a more literal sense, flying to his side from who-knows-where whenever he requires them, as if they had been off doing their own thing and showed up late to the fight. Similarly they act independently from him, though to different ends.
• Sharur is made of precious silver, a thin handle the length of his forearm engraved with depictions of wheat and farming tools, and a three-pronged head, one in the image of a proud lion's face and two as wings to its back. Much like its myth, Sharur can talk to Callum, relaying information it may have gathered or otherwise offering advice and wisdom, and can fly great distances in a short time. It must be wielded to be of use in a fight, however, and won't attack on its own.
- Along with its strengths as a mace, Sharur can be used to instill a warrior's passion in others, boosting their overall effectiveness in battle, curing fatigue in a second wind, or aiding in wounds and injuries, but doing such can drain Callum's own energy.
• Sumarbrander is humble in comparison, with a blade made of dark iron and a simple hilt of wood and leather, though being as long as a whole arm gives it presence. It's capable of fighting all on its own, maneuvering around Callum as if swung by an invisible hand, though unlike Sharur it won't travel far from his position.
Attributes

• Might: 2
• Agility: 1
• Endurance: 3
• Presence: 5
• Instinct: 1
• Resonance: 3

Guild Information

Hero Alias: Speak Easy
Costume: A white mask that covers the upper half of his face, only a pair of blank eyes on its front, partially covered by a dark gray cowl trimmed with yellow. Underneath he wears a high-buttoned military coat, white leather gloves, a pair of padded motorcycle pants, and steel-toed boots. It's a holdover from before he joined a Guild. Ramshackle, but earnest.
Guild Assessment Result: -
Affiliation: Callum is actually a very vocal opponent of Guilds, seeing their shocking rise and corporate backing as omens to disaster. His joining of one was more out of necessity than support, and he's aware of the hypocrisy. He goes without most benefits being in a Guild would afford him to compensate.

Background

Personality: Callum is an idealist, someone who strives to see the good in others and instill hope and support in them. He's also a realist, very much aware of the state of the world and its immediate future. This doesn't do much to hinder his spirit, instead driving him to double down and try to embody those ideals. He speaks his mind, and holds fast to his convictions - he's not someone who turns over easily. While this should make him annoying and stubborn, though, it's tempered with genuine care, compassion for people and the world at large. He talks a big game, but he's too much of a softie, for better and worse. He's also got something of a self-esteem issue, at least in the sense of devaluing his own capabilities, preferring to prop his fellows up over himself.
History: Callum is (was?) a professor of philosophy at a local college. Ever since he was younger he was an activist, participating in protests and speeches for the betterment of society. At some point though, he grew disillusioned with it, and took a step away from active participation for... maybe a bit too long. Instead he decided to prepare the next generations for the challenges of the world, which is to say he became a middle school history teacher. But through perseverance, patience, and a good tenure deal, Callum grew from an underpaid tween-wrangler to a proper-ish university professor. It was around this time that he, as well, "got back in the game" as the rise of masked heroes fighting against injustice sparked the old flame of rebellion in his heart. Not wanting to jeopardize his new position, he took to the streets in costume, not as a man of violence, but a man of attitude, protesting and speaking his mind to the throngs of civilians and newscasters who took to this movement.

And then, one day, he Awakened. He didn't plan for it, nobody does, but he tried to stick to his methods prior, not wanting to utilize his weapons for what they were meant for. Of course, having them made him a target for undesirables and, more importantly, Guilds. He had to fight, in self-defense, which he wasn't able to keep up for as long as he'd have wanted, and was given an ultimatum: be arrested and tried for whatever crimes he could be pinned with, or join an officially sanctioned Guild. He chose the option he thought would help his words reach the most people. But maybe... maybe that wasn't the right call. He's still trying to decide.
Motivation: Hope. Callum fights not for himself, not for money or fame, not even for what the world was, but what it could become. He wants to be a hero to inspire others, to show them the ways they can help and succeed where he can't. Of course he still fights for those that can't defend themselves in the Now, all very classical Heroic archetype stuff, but he may perhaps be a bit full of himself.

Optional
Side Roles:
Theme Song / Quote:

[Azure Bubbles]

Conner

Basic Information

Name: Conner Waters
Alias: Riptide
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance (Before Awakening) Conner is tall and lean, standing at exactly six feet tall. He has slender well defined swimmers body that he is very happy to show off. He spends plenty of time out in the sun, and thus has a lightly tanned skin complexion. He has a boyish heart shaped face, with big brown eyes, and a small nose. He keeps his brunette hair spiked up in the front, a style he thinks is cool. He can most often be seen with a grin on his face.

As for clothing, even though Conner comes from a wealthy family, he doesn’t dress the part. He wears simple T-shirts and jeans all the time. He also likes to wear tight fitting tank tops to show off his physique at times. When it’s cold out, he’ll wear a light blue hoodie. Footwear consists of a reliable pair of blue and white sneakers, or sandals. He dresses for comfort more than for fashion. He does like the color blue, and incorporates that into his wardrobe.

Appearance (After Awakening) His already athletic build becomes even more defined. His eyes and hair shift to a sea green color, and subtly shimmer when he channels power. Thin, scale-like patterns appear along his shoulders and back, glowing faintly when wet. His hair flows like it’s underwater even when dry. His costume includes sleek oceanic armor styled after Greek myth. It’s deep blue and gold, with coral and shell accents that shimmer like the sea. He alao wears a dark blue corinthian helmet, with a sea green crest, and a sea green cape.

Awakening Details

Vision: In a moment where time stopped post wipeout off the coast, Conner found himself standing in the ocean. Somehow, he was able to breathe underwater. A serene woman appeared before him “The tide does not ask for permission. It rises because it must. So will you.” She offered him a glowing trident. When his hand closed around it, the water erupted around him, and he rose out of the sea.
Rank: 2nd
Summoned Weapon(s) Poseidon’s Trident: Mythological trident of the Greek god of the sea

Lore & Power

Origin Story: Poseidon’s Trident is one of the most iconic weapons in Greek mythology. Wielded by the god of the sea himself, it was said to cause earthquakes, summon storms, and control all the waters of the world.
Relative Strength: 8/10
Manifestation: The trident materializes in a swirl of saltwater and shimmering seafoam, rising from the ground like a geyser. The weapon itself is gold and deep blue, with prongs shaped like crashing waves and engraved with glowing Greek runes. When Conner holds it, water seems to respond to his emotions, rising and swirling around him.
Attributes

• Might: 2
• Agility: 4
• Endurance: 2
• Presence: 3
• Instinct: 2
• Resonance: 2

Guild Information

Guild Assessment Result: (To be revealed IC—leave blank until after your initiation scene if you’d like.)
Affiliation: He doesn’t like being told what to do, so he doesn’t trust systems blindly, but he’s not anti guild.

Background

Personality: Conner is a spontaneous and outgoing young man. He likes to have fun. His favorite activities are surfing, swimming, playing video games, and reading comic books. He enjoys socializing with others and being the center of attention. He is an handshaking, touching kind of guy. He openly expresses affection through hugs, holding hands, as well as stroking and grabbing shoulders. He particularly likes flirting with attractive guys. He makes friends easily, and will happily chat up strangers if they interest him somehow. He enjoys social situations, and believes that everyone else would too. He's likely to convince people who he perceives as being lonely to come along with things like 'come on, you'll enjoy it!' or 'you don't know what you're missing!' While he does need to spend time alone once in a while, he gets bored if he does it too long. He values all his relationships, and will happily stick with anyone he considers a friend.

He can often be found with a smile on his face, even during stressful situations. He often makes jokes, when the situation is tense to lift people's spirits. He may tease others in a 'playful' way, and expect them not to 'take it so seriously.' He does feel bad if somebody does actually get their feelings hurt by what he says. Sometimes his attempts at humor are read as him not taking the situation seriously. While he does joke around a lot, he is capable of getting things done. He just doesn't feel the need to be so dour about it. He often suggests that others not be so serious.

Conner enjoys showing off his skills for others in order to get praise. He is prone to bragging about the things he is good at. He does it in a 'look at this awesome thing I can do!' way, rather than an 'I'm better than you.' way. He will often be the first one to jump into battle just to show off the cool stuff he can do with water.

He likes to live in the moment rather than dwelling on the past. This means Conner is not the best when it comes to organization, or planning. Due to his lack of planning ahead, it makes him impulsive, and he tends to jump into things without a second thought. He gets bored when he is not sufficiently stimulated, and will complain about being bored. He is also not the most tidy person. He does clean up his mess after the fact if it's pointed out to him, but he has trouble avoiding making a mess in the first place.

Growing up a member of a rich family that has high standards, and a seemingly perfect older sister has given him a number of insecurites. He’s always worried about not being good enough, and that he doesn’t belong anywhere. He feels like he has something to prove. He wants to have a purpose in life. He tries to hide his worries behind a mask of being a cool laid back surfer dude, but they’re always there. It manifests as envy towards people he thinks are better than him.

History: Conner grew up in an upscale area. Comner was the youngest son of the wealthy and prominent Waters family. His parents were quite strict, and they had high standards for their kids. Conner had an older sister named Arianna, and she was the the apple of the family’s eye, at least it appeared that way to Conner. She was beautiful, talented, intelligent, and it felt like she could do no wrong. To him, it always seemed like anything he could do she could do better.

In his teenage years, Conner gave up trying to live up to the high standards set by his sister. He only did just well enough in school to get by, and spent a lot of time slacking off. He would often act up in class, and get himself into trouble. There were days where he would cut class to go to the beach and surf. Surfing was one of his favorite activities. It was definitely something Arianna wouldn’t do. He enjoyed the thrill and adrenaline high of catching a big wave. That, and he also flirting with the hot guys in swimsuits on the beach.

He continued coasting through life trying to have as much fun as possible. Even though his grades weren’t the best, he was rather popular with other students, and had a few close friends. His parents wished he would put more effort into his studies, and better represent his family name, but Conner didn’t really care to try. His sister was obviously the shining star of the family, so why did they need him for? He works at a surf shop near the beach. He was always told to “grow up.” Now he’s being told he’s destined to carry Poseidon’s legacy.
Motivation: Conner didn’t set out to be a hero. At first, it was all adrenaline and aesthetics. The powers were cool, the trident looked badass, and people started paying attention to him for once. But over time, he began to realize something deeper: with this power, he could do something real. He could finally be more than the screw-up little brother or the guy who coasted through life. Maybe he’s not a perfect hero, but he wants to try, even if he’s scared he won’t be enough.

Optional
Side Roles: His sister and parents might show up. But I haven’t decided.
Theme Song / Quote: “I didn’t ask for this, but now that I have the magic fork, I’m gonna make it awesome!”

[Taka]

Clive Bright

Appearance

Basic Information

Name:
Clive Bright

Alias/Hero Name:
Enma

Age:
25

Gender:
Male

Appearance (Before Awakening)
Before his awakening, Clive was a skinny man, barely any noticeable muscle. Due to an illness, his body never grew past the height of 5'2, marking Clive as short compared to the average male. Frail and small was how Clive appeared before he awakened.

Appearance (After Awakening)
After awakening, Clive has bulked up considerably. Every muscle has gained mass, filling out sections of his body that he didn't even know he had, gaining rock hard abs, and chiseled muscles across his entire body. The sunken look of his face filled out, smoothing out and chiseling his jawline. He even grew a whole foot in height. Clive is almost an entirely different person.

Awakening Details

Vision:
"Shall we have some fun?"

A woman stood before him in front of a lake, standing ever calm as if she was waiting for something. The vast lake extended into the horizon, never ending to those that look upon it, the sun shining upon. The wind gently moves the water back and forth, giving way to a peaceful calm. The woman looks back at Clive with a smile and the most reassuring eyes.

Rank:
2nd

Summoned Weapon(s)

• Power Pole - DragonBall
• Cloud-Splitting Boots - Journey to the West

Lore & Power

Origin Story: The Power Pole is a weapon that originates from the internationally popular manga Dragon ball. The pole is nearly indestructible, can extend to unimaginable lengths or shrink as tiny as needed. A weapon created as a version of Sun Wukong's famous staff, it is truly a testament to the popularity of Wukon and DragonbBall.

Relative Strength: 8

Manifestation: The Power Pole is a solid red staff that sits at just an inch taller than Clive. It seemingly comes out of nowhere, growing from a tiny pin to it's normal size.

Origin Story: Cloud-Splitting Boot are boot given to Sun Wukong during his titular story, Journey to the West. These boots allow Clive to walk through the sky by creating two small clouds under each feet or create a medium-sized that is capable of being rode.

Attributes

• Might: 1 - Strength is not Clive's forte, relying on his speed and overwhelming numbers to grasp victory.
• Agility: 4 - Clive greatest attribute is his speed, and acrobatics, embodying how he assumed the Monkey King himself fought. Somersaults, flips, and tumbles all are encompassed in his fighting style, striking multiple times quickly from various angles.
• Endurance: 3 - While not being the most durable, Clive can fight for extended period of time, some noting he can do an insane amount of staff twirls before fatigue sets.
• Presence: 3 - After a lifetime of watching his family save people, Clive does his best to live up to their image. He tends to be a rather fun loving hero but, that's he how inspires others.
• Instinct: 3 - Clive can read his opponents, responding to danger at the drop of a hat, and find the flow of battle to keep up a constant rhythm of dodging and attacking.
• Resonance: 1 - He has a lot of work to do to resonate with his weapon properly.

Guild Information

Guild Assessment Result: (To be revealed IC—leave blank until after your initiation scene if you’d like.)
Affiliation: Loyal to the Guilds

Background

Personality:
On the outside, Clive has a friendly and caring personality, making friends with like-minded people. When around others, he keeps a smile on his face and eagerly engages with others during activities. The man has a clear mind and a sense of responsibility that shows how mature he has become. He is not above a good fight, willing to fight anyone if only for the sheer love of battle though at times he can be very arrogant toward his opposition and constantly taunt his foe. This never stands in his way of protecting those special to him.

On the inside, Clive pushes away those who would otherwise be considered his friends. He has a fear of getting to close to those he cares for as he’s seen the tragedy and experienced the pain of losing loved ones. This has culminated into making him afraid of losing the feelings of comfort that loved-ones provide whilst causing him to keep his pain hidden from any others. Despite this, Clive remains steadfastly loyal and true to those he cares about.

History:
From a young age, Clive lived an unremarkable life unlike the rest of his family. Born premature and undersized, the future hero was hindered from the day his eyes opened. As a kid there was always the thought of why, why did the world deem him defective. His mother would make it her duty to encourage her son, bonding with him over stories of her own favorite heroes like the Monkey King and Goku from Dragon Ball. Their bond was strong, and he looked up to his mother who was Chief of the Fire Department. She helped keep him stable, while his father and brother backed him up; a family that stuck together through thick and thin.

Tragedy would strike during his senior year of high-school, his mother would respond to a devastating house fire, saving three people, but tragically losing her life due to burns sustained. Her death would hit Clive the hardest in his family, nearly breaking him mentally. For months he would live in depression, missing the mother that made him feel special, feel like he could be a hero like her despite his condition. Eventually he would find himself rewatching Dragon Ball, his mind constantly replaying the memories of his mother. He'd never know that one day he would get live out their dream.

Many years later as Clive finally was able to finish college, he would undergo his awakening. One day he would wake up to find himself in a body that didn't feel like his own. He was stronger, faster, and taller, even manifesting that very weapon that he would watch his hero Son Goku wield to fight villains. For two months, Clive has trained and started acting as the hero he has always dreamed of being.

Motivation:
He choose to become a hero because of his mother and their idea of what it means to be a hero.

Optional
Side Roles:
Firefighter, Police, honestly any role you need.

Theme Song / Quote:

Theme of a hero

"I'll save them all with a smile on my face."

[Vec]

Clara Whitmore: Argent

Clara Whitmore

♀ | 19 | Argent, The Horn of Reclamation

AWAKENING DETAILS

---

Vision: Time fractured. The barn, the shotgun, her favorite horse Clover—all frozen in amber light. Then Clover's eyes blazed white, and suddenly Clara was standing in an endless meadow under impossible stars. Before her stood the Unicorn—not Clover, but something ancient wearing Clover's gentleness like a cloak. Its voice was neither male nor female, but it resonated in her chest like a choir:

"Child of sorrow, why do you flee the race before it has begun? Your suffering was not your fault. Your weakness was not your truth. I offer you strength—not to return to that stable, but to transcend it. Will you accept my armament and ride forth? Will you become what you needed when no one came?"

Clara, weeping, could only nod. The Unicorn touched its horn to her forehead—and she felt her body begin to change.

Rank: 2nd Rank
Summoned Weapons/Items

• Alicorn Lance - The spiraling horn of the mythical Unicorn, manifested as a twelve-foot lance of living ivory that glows with soft white-gold radiance
• Centaur's Panoply - Opalescent plate armor that manifests around her waist and transforms her lower body into a powerful equine battle-form with four legs

BACKGROUND

---

Personality: Clara is a study in contrasts—her body says "warrior," but her heart still whispers "victim." She's gentle by nature, soft-spoken, quick to apologize even when she's done nothing wrong. Years of abuse trained her to de-escalate, to make herself invisible, to absorb blame. Those instincts don't vanish just because her body changed.

But there's something new underneath: a slowly kindling anger. She's beginning to realize her mother was wrong, that she didn't deserve that treatment, that strength means she never has to accept that again. In combat, especially when defending someone weaker, that rage surfaces—and she becomes terrifying.

She views her Awakening as a miracle and a responsibility. She was saved for a reason, and she needs to earn that salvation by saving others. This drives her to recklessness sometimes—throwing herself into danger because she believes her life only has value if she spends it protecting people.

She's also still deeply insecure about her new body. She's stronger than she ever dreamed, but she doesn't know how to be this person yet. She second-guesses herself constantly, asks for permission out of habit, struggles with simple decisions. Around horses, however, she's confident and calm—that connection to her old life grounds her.

History:

1 Month Ago...

The day it happened started like every other, which was somehow the cruelest part. Clara woke before dawn to the sound of the old alarm buzzing on the nightstand, its tinny rattle barely audible over the wind pushing against the farmhouse windows. Her room smelled of dust and hay and the faint copper of old blood from a nosebleed she'd never quite cleaned from the floorboards, a reminder that even sleep wasn't safe from her mother's temper. She dressed in the dark without turning on the light, shrugging into the same faded flannel shirt and worn jeans as always, moving quietly so the boards wouldn't creak and give anyone an excuse to be angry this early.

Outside, the world was cold and blue, the kind of pre-morning chill that settled into bone. Her breath smoked the air as she crossed the yard to the barn, boots squelching in mud that had frozen and thawed too many times. The horses greeted her with soft snorts and shifting hooves, the warm animal smell washing over her like a blanket she didn't deserve. Clover, the aging stallion with the gentle eyes, stretched his neck over the stall door to nudge Clara's shoulder, and Clara allowed herself a small smile as she pressed her forehead briefly against the horse's.

"Morning, boy," she whispered, the words disappearing into Clover's mane. Here, with the horses, her voice felt less wrong, less likely to spark an explosion. She moved through the routine on instinct: water buckets checked, hay thrown, stalls mucked, each motion practiced enough that her mind could float somewhere else while her body worked. Still, a faint tremor lived in her hands she couldn't quite shake, a leftover vibration from too many nights listening for approaching footsteps in the hallway.

By the time the sun finally dragged itself over the horizon, her father had emerged from the house, already half in his day, eyes fixed on his phone and the endless numbers that never added up. "Feed delivery's late again," he muttered, not really to her, barely slowing as he passed the barn. He didn't notice her split lip from three nights ago, or the way she flinched when his shadow crossed the doorway. "Check the south fence after breakfast," was the closest thing to affection he offered, and Clara nodded automatically, throat closing around all the words she'd never say.

Breakfast was dry toast and overcooked eggs, eaten in brittle silence at the small kitchen table. Her mother's eyes flicked over her like searchlights looking for infractions, taking in the dirt under her nails, the way her hair had escaped its tie, the faint hay clinging to her sleeves. "Look at you," Margaret Whitmore said at last, a sneer curled into the corner of her mouth. "Like a stray dog we let in out of pity."

Clara kept her gaze on her plate and swallowed hard, the bread sitting like a stone in her stomach. She felt the familiar, nauseating awareness of all the wrongness she carried—too quiet, too clumsy, too needy. _"Sorry," she murmured, because that was the safest word in her vocabulary. Her mother's chair scraped back from the table with a screech that made Clara's shoulders lock.

"Sorry," Margaret echoed, coming to stand over her. "Sorry doesn't fix broken tack, doesn't pay late bills, doesn't stop you from scaring off buyers when you stand there looking like that." A hand clamped on Clara's chin and forced her head up, nails digging into her skin. "Can't even look people in the eye without trembling. Useless."

The word landed the way it always did, a stone dropped into a well that had no bottom. Clara's eyes burned, but she didn't cry—she'd learned long ago that tears only made it worse. Her father said nothing, gaze fixed firmly on the window, shoulders hunched around an invisible burden. Clara wished, not for the first time, that he would shout, slam his fist on the table, do something other than vanish in plain sight.

The rest of the day blurred into a smear of chores and small mistakes. She checked the south fence and found a section sagging where last week's storm had soaked the posts, her fingers going numb as she worked to shore it up. Later, she loaded feed too quickly, spilling grain onto the ground, and her mother's hand found the back of her head for that, a sharp crack that made stars burst behind her eyes. Every error felt like confirmation of the worst things she'd been told about herself, until the words weren't just her mother's—they were her own.

The real mistake came near sundown. A prospective buyer had driven out to look at one of their younger geldings, a skittish bay that didn't like sudden movements. Clara was supposed to lead him out calmly, but her hands were tired and her mind far away, and when the buyer's phone rang loudly, both she and the horse jumped. The gelding reared, jerking the lead from her grasp and nearly bowling the man over as he danced away in panic.

The buyer cursed, brushed hay from his expensive jacket, and left without another word. Clara watched the taillights disappear down the dirt road, dread crawling up her spine like cold fingers. Her mother's footsteps were already approaching, heel-strikes on packed earth like a countdown. She had nowhere to run, nowhere safe to hide.

The beating that followed wasn't the worst she'd ever had, but it was the one that broke something essential. In the shadow of the barn, away from her father's empty gaze, Margaret's anger found its usual outlets—open palm, closed fist, the sharp crack of her voice calling Clara every name that had ever made her want to disappear.

By the end of it, Clara was on her knees in the dirt, ribs aching with each breath, the taste of iron in her mouth. Her mother's final words drifted down like ash. "We'd be better off without you." Then Margaret turned on her heel and walked back toward the house, shouting something about unpaid bills to the man who would not answer.

The sky was bruised purple by the time Clara managed to stand. The world felt muffled, like she was underwater, sounds coming from far away—a dog barking in the distance, the creak of the windmill, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Every breath hurt. Every thought circled the same, grim conclusion.

She drifted through the rest of the evening on autopilot, finishing chores because she didn't know how not to. She filled Clover's water, stroked the stallion's neck one more time, lingering longer than usual. Clover snorted softly and pressed closer, as if sensing something wrong, warm breath ghosting against Clara's cheek. Clara swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped back.

When the house finally went dark and the last light in her parents' window winked out, she moved. Her body knew exactly where the shotgun was, even if she'd pretended not to all these years. In the hall closet, behind a stack of old horse blankets, propped against the wall where her father thought no one looked too closely. Her hands didn't shake as she pulled it free.

The weight of it surprised her. Heavier than it looked, awkward in her grasp, the cold metal slick against her palm. She checked the chamber the way she'd glimpsed her father do once, heart thudding an arrhythmic pattern against her bruised ribs. Loaded.

Each step back to the barn felt strangely distant, as if someone else were walking in her body while she watched from somewhere above. The night was clear, the stars brutally bright, indifferent to the small drama playing out beneath them. Gravel crunched under her boots, and for once she didn't flinch at the sound. No one was listening.

The barn greeted her with familiar warmth and shadow. The horses shifted, some lifting their heads, others too deep in their own animal dreams to notice. Clover was awake, though, ears pricked, eyes catching the faint light from the single bulb swinging overhead. Clara walked to his stall as if pulled on a string.

She leaned the shotgun carefully against the wall and reached for Clover's halter, fingers tangling in the worn leather. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "I know you'll be okay. Dad will… he'll still feed you. You're a good boy. You're not the problem." Her throat closed around the last word, and she pressed her forehead to Clover's once more, clinging to the only warmth that had ever asked nothing of her.

The stallion huffed softly, breath sweet with hay, and nuzzled against Clara's hair as if in answer. For a heartbeat, Clara almost broke—almost put the gun back, almost convinced herself she could endure one more day, one more week, one more year. Then her mother's voice echoed in her skull: We'd be better off without you. The almost shattered.

She stepped back, picked up the shotgun, and sat down in the straw just outside Clover's stall, back against the wooden wall. Her hands moved with terrible calm, the way they did when braiding a mane or buckling a girth. She set the barrel where she'd seen it done in movies, angled just so, breath coming in shallow pulls. Her finger settled on the trigger, cool metal beneath skin gone strangely numb.

"I'm sorry," she said again, though she wasn't sure who she meant this time. Clover. Her father. The world.

She drew in one last breath, the barn air thick with hay and dust and the quiet presence of the only creature who had ever loved her. Her finger tightened. And then, just as the world should have shattered with the sound of a gunshot, it did something else instead.

Everything slowed, sound stretching thin, the hanging bulb's sway freezing in mid-arc as Clover's eyes caught the light and began to glow.

Motivation: Clara chose to become a hero because the vision asked her to—because in her darkest moment, something reached out and told her she had value, that she could be strong, that she didn't have to die in that barn. She's paying that forward. Every person she saves is proof that the Unicorn was right to choose her, that her life means something.

On a deeper level, she's also running. She can't go back to the farm, can't face her parents in this new body. Heroism gives her purpose, structure, a family she never had. The Order is her escape and her salvation.

She's also, though she doesn't articulate it yet, driven by a bone-deep need to prove she's not what her mother said she was. Every act of heroism is a repudiation of "you're useless."

APPEARANCE

---

Before Awakening: Clara was barely 5'2" and weighed perhaps 105 pounds soaking wet. Malnourished from a childhood where meals were withheld as punishment, she had thin arms covered in fading bruises she'd learned to hide under long sleeves. Her brown hair hung limp and unwashed, her posture was perpetually hunched (making herself smaller, less of a target), and her hazel eyes rarely met anyone's gaze. Calloused hands from farm work, chapped lips, clothes that hung off her frame like rags. She moved quietly, apologetically, as though afraid to take up space in the world.

After Awakening: Clara now stands exactly 6'0" with the build of a classical warrior—broad shoulders, powerful arms and legs thick with muscle, a strong core that speaks of endurance and strength. Her weight nearly doubled to 180 pounds of lean muscle mass. Her hair grew longer and thicker during the transformation, now cascading in waves of chestnut brown with natural platinum-blonde highlights that shimmer in sunlight. Her eyes brightened to a striking amber-gold with an almost luminous quality. Her posture is upright, commanding, though she still sometimes catches herself trying to make herself small out of habit. The chronic bruises are gone—her skin now has a faint opalescent sheen, especially along her arms and legs where the centaur armor manifests. Small scars from her old life remain, reminders of where she came from.

LORE AND POWER

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Origin Story: The Unicorn is one of the most enduring symbols in human mythology—appearing in ancient Mesopotamian art, Greek natural history, medieval European heraldry, and tapestries across cultures. Associated with purity, healing, grace, and the untamable wild, Unicorns were said to only appear to those pure of heart (often translated as "maidens" in medieval lore). Their horns, or alicorns, were believed to purify poisoned water and cure disease. In this case, the Unicorn spirit recognized Clara's fundamental innocence—despite all the abuse heaped upon her, her heart remained uncorrupted. The weapon chose her not because she was strong, but because she was worthy.

Relative Strength: 8/10
The Unicorn is globally recognized across virtually every culture, giving it substantial mythic weight. While not quite at Excalibur's singular legendary status, it far exceeds obscure regional weapons. The versatility of the power (offensive lance, defensive armor, mobility) and its positive cultural associations make this a formidable Awakening.

Manifestation: When Clara summons her armaments, the air around her shimmers with prismatic light. The Alicorn Lance materializes in her right hand—seven feet of spiraling ivory that seems to be carved from solidified moonlight, its surface inscribed with flowing patterns that might be ancient script or simply the grain of impossible bone. The tip glows softly, brightest when she channels her will through it.

The Centaur's Panoply appears as opalescent plates that wrap around her hips and flow downward. Her human legs don't vanish—they are encased in armor, transforming to become the front legs of her equine lower body while two additional rear legs manifest behind her, all four sheathed in articulated barding of the same moonlight-metal. Her hooves are polished silver that spark when they strike stone. A flowing tail of platinum-white hair extends from the base of her spine. The armor itself is surprisingly light, with sections of reinforced leather between the plates allowing fluid movement. When she moves at full gallop, a faint trail of stardust follows her hoofprints.

Attributes:

• Might: 4 – Her new body is powerful, and in centaur form her lance charges are devastating. She's still learning the full extent of her strength.
• Agility: 3 – In open terrain she's incredibly fast, but she lacks formal combat training and can be clumsy in tight spaces.
• Endurance: 3 – That powerful physique gives her stamina she never had before, though maintaining the centaur form for extended periods still drains her.
• Presence: 2 – She's still finding her voice. Physically imposing, yes, but emotionally she's fragile and uncertain. Leadership doesn't come naturally—yet.
• Instinct: 1 – Clara has virtually no combat experience. She relies on raw power and emotion rather than tactical thinking. This is her glaring weakness.
• Resonance: 2 – Her bond with the Unicorn is genuine and born from mutual compassion, but it's young. She doesn't fully understand what was given to her or why. As she grows into her role as a hero, this will strengthen.

GUILD INFORMATION

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Guild Assessment Result: ???

Affiliation: Clara is desperately grateful to the Order for giving her a place to belong. She's fiercely loyal but also naïve—she doesn't yet understand the politics or corporate machinations behind the guild system. She joined because she literally had nowhere else to go (returning to her parents' farm was unthinkable) and because the vision told her to "become what you needed when no one came." She interprets that as a heroic calling. She wants to save people the way she was saved.

Side Roles: Clara might eventually want to work with at-risk youth or domestic violence survivors—people who remind her of herself. She could also volunteer at animal shelters or therapeutic riding programs, maintaining that connection to horses.

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📌 CHANGE LOG 📌

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• [11/25/2025] Changed Awakening time from 2 months before the Order's assessment to 1 month

[mickilennial]

Leilani Lee Louris: Radiant Guardian

L E E
L E E

^{“Hi! Want to be friends?”}

V I S I O N I C O N O G R A P H Y V I S I O N I C O N O G R A P H Y _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R D A T A C H A R A C T E R D A T A _________________________________________________________ Real ID Leilani Lee Louris Heroic Alias Radiant Guardian Rank 1 Guild Assessment To Be Determined Personality Once there was a girl who was quiet, dutiful, and scared. A girl who would’ve been quite pleasant to be around, but it has been a long time since someone else has manifested in her place. The rose-haired girl that moves as a hero is still affable but holds an eerie unearned confidence and resolve. Sometimes she says words like a dagger, misdirects her brutal ruthlessness, and refuses to ever be seen as weak again. If you spot it, you might find her scarier than you’d like to admit. Affiliation Lee, once a caged bird, sees heroism as a method to live free. It may be naive in a sense given the nature of corporations, but she would rather represent the Maid of Orléans in earnest than be wicked. But, the flames have a way of driving such people into madness… Summon The Sword of St. Catherine Relative Strength The Sword of St. Catherine was once held in the hands of Frankish heroes Charles Martel and Jeanne d'Arc. It is not as iconic as some other weapons of myth and legend, but among a select few including the people of France it is still remembered well enough. It is due to this that on the manifestation scale it lands at a 7 or 8. Manifestation The Sword of St. Catherine is a Frankish longsword. It is neither too large or too small, serving a maid in her time of crisis well. Manifested into Lee’s hands it glows with a pure, golden hue, a beacon of light as if ordained from god. Attributes Might - ★✩✩✩✩ Agility - ★✩✩✩✩ Endurance - ★★★★★ Presence - ★★✩✩✩ Instinct - ★★★✩✩ Resonance - ★★★✩✩

A P P E A R A N C E A P P E A R A N C E ________________________________________________________________________________________ Standing at a lanky but modest height (for a girl!) of 5’8” with long, picturesque pink hair it appears that every bit of the princess she read about in her family’s library day-in and day-out. A lot of that is due to the manifestation. “I was a nobody, I looked like a nobody.” She would remark if you asked her about how she looked prior to her magical awakening. Her body is now athletic and not wiry, her fingers grasping the sword with the confidence of a hundred men instead of barely holding onto an old mop. She does not look like a fighter, though that quickly changes when battle begins. T H E V I S I O N: F L A M E S O F A V A L O N T H E V I S I O N: F L A M E S O F A V A L O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ “What would it take to free you of your shackles?” She was there, cleaning the library, spent after a month of what seemed like torture. She was so alone, she had no one, and she was so very tired. Suddenly, a vision took her from the world. A figure asked her those words, cloaked in shadow, as a sword was presented to her. A sword fit for a maid. Something inside her broke as she took the weapon from their hands as it whispered one final phrase before she returned to the world she knew, but not as the girl she was. She still thinks about those words. “A bird is a predator. Not prey.” H I S T O R Y: T H E C A G E D B I R D H I S T O R Y: T H E C A G E D B I R D ________________________________________________________________________________________ Have you ever seen the movie Cinderella? That storied fairytale of an abused young woman in service of her ungrateful, selfish family stuck in a cage of their making for what could be forever. She thought that her life would turn out like Cinderella’s, minus the happy ending. Turns out, you have to create your own happy ending. The Louris Family were high ranking members of a notable corporation, a wealth that afforded them luxuries and amenities that normal people didn’t have. When Lee’s father met a poor girl from a side of life the family didn’t approve of, it caused a stir. Incidentally, eloping with said girl who was already a few weeks pregnant was also rather unpopular with the patriarch of the family estate. Fights were had. They never went away, and right when there was some light at the end of the tunnel something terrible happened. A car accident. Her parents mangled. Her guardianship with people who didn’t even see her as human. She was six years old. And so her life tumbled into despair. Treated like a slave, so began her childhood underneath her grandfather. A life that she would maintain until her awakening fourteen years later. M O T I V A T I O N: T H E P A T H F O R W A R D M O T I V A T I O N: T H E P A T H F O R W A R D ________________________________________________________________________________________ Why did they choose to become a hero rather than a villain? That’s kind of the million dollar question, isn’t it? She isn’t keen on sharing her vision or how her manifestation led to a fire that burned the Louris Family Estate to ashes. Why be a hero if you were abused and given the tools to be the opposite? Being a hero is about being seen. She was caged so long that she had no friends and the life of a villain is so lonely. She may end up there if put on the wrong path, but who says your vision dictates your destiny at the end of the day? You are who you are. And the last maid to bear the sword of St. Catherine was a brave woman who fought for heaven before evil men set her ablaze. That’s really the fact of the matter. She is a hero. She must be.

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