Asura

The Things We Fight For

Odessa

Location — Petrichor-8 System, Frontier Planet Alora

Interacting — @Eisenhorn@Vietmyke@Xiro Zean

---

No plan of operations reaches with any certainty beyond the first encounter with the enemy's main force.

Though bullets still whistled this way and that and the screams of inhuman monstrosities rang through desolate city streets, there was a clarity that followed Odessa's dispatching of the Bishop duo. She was given a few moments to breathe the chlorine-scented air and take stock of the situation. Things seemed to progress as anticipated, with the high caste at the head of their opposition falling in short order. Without the spearhead of their push, the rest of the Aberrants would like as not fall apart under sustained fire from the remains of the infantry. Though she might have proved helpful in bringing down what opposition remained to expedite the process and see them advance all the faster, it was an important thing for a Constellation to conserve their strength for the true enemies. The infantry and accompanying vehicles existed solely to facilitate duels between her number and those high caste who would otherwise be immune to such mortal means of damage. So long as everything continued according to the plan, Odessa would not need to exert herself again until they reached the nest, or else another patrol of Aberrants that remained to defend the nest.

Of course, in that moment, she might have done well to remember the wisdom imparted upon her by the scholar, by way of the warriors of Old Earth: “No plan of operations reaches with any certainty beyond the first encounter with the enemy's main force.”

The sky igniting above her with streaks of radiant light was a reminder of that fact. Gold eyes traced their origin in time to marvel, along with the rest of her unit, at the behemoth construct that had produced them. The sight of such a Rook was not a surprise—at the start of a campaign. Yet they were deeply into the battle for Alora by the time it reared its ugly head. If such a creature was to confront humanity, it would have been in the initial waves of the war, when the resources of the planet were still rich and the Princess' instincts told it to make use of that abundance before it began to run dry. Yet there it stood for all to witness, with only days left before the planet's life was extinguished like so many candles in the wind. An unexpected turn of events.

A worrisome turn of events.

The Aberrants were a mighty foe to contend with, but they were no great strategists. Most of their number were no smarter than a common beast, no more capable of formulating strategies to combat the armies of humanity than particularly cunning animals following blueprints of action etched into their very genetics. And much as humanity had conquered the beasts first of their homeworld and then the cosmos beyond, defeating them was a simple matter of memorization and adequate action. The advantage of mankind has always been adaptation. Humans could array themselves in whatever way was most advantageous, and overcome their opponents through cunning as much as might.

The possibilities for how the Rook before her appeared bordered on that same cunning. Either the Princess of Alora had developed the ability to produce such units even while operating in a state of resource scarcity or, perhaps more worryingly, it had created the Rook well in advance of the current incursion toward its nest, and had it lay in wait for such a time that it could be deployed to counter a potential attack on its home. In other words, it had planned for their arrival. It had learned to do so.

Were Odessa not already dedicated to the notion of exterminating the beast before, then she certainly was after that passing thought. She had seen firsthand what destruction was wrought when the Aberrants deigned to evolve beyond their base instincts.

But before she could see to the destruction of the Princess, its Rook needed first to fall. Daunting though the prospect of such a lumbering monster might have been, she knew well enough that it could not be ignored. Even if it wouldn't menace their advance every step of the way with its many beams, it would certainly ensure that no evacuation of the forces at the nest could be staged even in the death rattle of its mistress. To leave it would be to spell death for all involved. Fortunately, she knew that it could be killed with an adequate showing of force. A show of force she knew herself more than capable of providing. Splitting off from the main force to handle the Rook would like as not preclude her from facing the Princess firsthand—a prospect which worried her, given the relative unfamiliarity she shared of her comrade's abilities—but in battle, risks needed to be taken. She would have to depend on Ahkari to see the mother of the horde did not leave Alora alive.

"Pilots! If you still got some engines left--follow me! Draw this Shrimp's fire! I'll knock it down!"

Or, perhaps, she would not. Odessa might have shown an expression of gratitude to the older Constellation if she was sure the woman would see it. But already, she was preparing to set off to confront the Rook. In the face of such a choice, Odessa's decision was all but cemented herself. One of the mouthier pilots called for the Constellations intent on facing the nest to gather, and she had little reason to refuse the call. Though her gauntlets all but hummed with residual energy, they did little damage to the exterior of the mech as she scaled up its leg and torso to rest atop its shoulder in the span of a heartbeat. From her perch, she could see the many who would either be left behind by the encroaching hordes or choose otherwise to make a last stand with those who could not continue forward. It was like as not that, even if she were to succeed, it would be the last time she laid eyes upon most all of them. More sacrifices in the name of victory. A shame she did not have time to learn many of their names.

"If you must die, then die well, Dan Kirk."

She offered her parting words to what appeared to be the lead pilot in their number with the same cold indifference as she ever managed in the heat of battle, then turned her sights away from the faces of the damned, and toward the gargantuan mass that was the Aberrant nest. The place where the battle would conclude one way or another, with victory or defeat.

The Things We Fight For

Odessa

Location — Petrichor-8 System, Frontier Planet Alora

Interacting — @Xiro Zean

---

Relief.

That was what Odessa might have felt, had she not been a more seasoned warrior. Relief that her senior had the good sense to reconsider their advance. Relief that the military men attached to them had the good sense to listen to a veteran Aberrant-slayer. Relief that their mission was marginally more likely to succeed as a result.

Such a luxury was not hers to enjoy.

Instead, she felt nothing more than familiar serenity, an emptiness she knew well, devoid of positive and negative. As the atmosphere far above them lit up with the wrath of man and his nemesis, filling the very skies with the rumbling staccato of artillery fire and plasma, she thought only of the storm within—the rumbling of her internal thunder. When the screeching of a thousand or more monstrosities echoed through war-torn streets, rattling the will of those around her with the threat that they might yet turn their soulless gazes upon those few souls hunkered down in the hotel, she kept her mind on the great storm to come, whose wrath would fill her veins with heavenly zeal and remake her flesh as a weapon that could humble the false Gods of the Archenemy's host. Even as the horrific screams of their foes died down in the absence of that great horde, now shambling for the front lines so many miles away, she could feel the kiss of Okeanos' heavens upon her nape, every minuscule hair standing on end in its presence.

"Alright," The call to move came on from high, stirring Odessa from her reverie long enough for her eyes to drift to their intrepid leader, "Move out. We have to reach the target before they figure out what is happening."

And so she did. Like some silent specter, she drifted through the crowds of soldiers checking their weapons and muttering their prayers, every step guiding her closer to the behemoth of steel and circuitry that would escort her to their place of battle. It would not be much longer after she scaled the giant and settled herself upon one of its great arms that the reverb of motors and the hum of thrusters filled her ears. Soon, the dank, depressing ambiance of a building now deprived of its purpose was replaced with fresher, but no less dreary skies of Alora. It seemed to her as though the very world itself mirrored that of her own: dark clouds gathering in preparation for the fury they would soon unleash. An auspicious omen, perhaps, were she allowed the mercy of hope.

But such a luxury was not hers to enjoy.

---

The reprieve of open skies and clear ground came to a predictable end sometime thereafter. Given such time to reproduce, it was of no surprise to Odessa that the Archenemy proved numerous enough to maintain a presence of sentries nearer the nest even under all the wrath that the Brigadier General brought to bear against their teeming horde. But the efforts of humanity's lesser combatants had done its job. Instead of a great flood of gnashing teeth and radiant beams, they faced only a swell, the likes of which could be broken against their host like a wave upon the cliffs.

"Engage the enemy!"

The rallying cry went out, and all as one both groups seemed to ignite into a flurry of activity. A thousand sharp cracks rang out below as the infantrymen unleashed all they had upon the armored carapaces of their foes, and Odessa's balance shifted as the iron giant beneath her banked sharply to the right to fulfill its objective and strafe the gibbering swarm far beneath them. The very act seemed to bring the tempest within her to the surface. She could feel it swelling, deep in the marrow of her bones, in every sinewy fiber of muscle, down nerve that familiar buzzing, burning, aching surge. It beckoned to her. Yearned for her to call upon it. Her body and mind as one hoped for it, desiring to unleash that which had stirred within her since they first departed their impromptu lodgings.

A luxury she could enjoy.

Two hard knocks against the cockpit of her escort informed the pilot within that their duty to her had been completed. A gentle push thereafter saw her leaving its embrace, free-falling towards the planet below. The winds whipped about her face as she plummeted toward the ground, but the thrill it provided was as a raindrop amidst a cyclone when compared to the rush building within her. The impact of her feet touching scorched asphalt barely registered in the face of the energy that surged within her, building and building and building. Her eyes found their focus in the face of the Aberrant threat just ahead of the makeshift host of infantry she had dropped into. The Pawns meant little to her, the Jetsam only marginally more. Her gaze instead searched until it landed on the leadership of the motley assortment of monsters. The high-caste—Bishops.

Hulking and monstrous, one would be forgiven for comparing them to the steely humanoids mankind brought to bear. Odessa knew better. No matter how mighty the firepower of their mechanical brethren might have been, there was no hope for them to puncture the barrier of a Bishop. It was the threat posed by these grotesques that necessitated the presence of humanity's greatest defenders in the first place. They were the closest equivalent amongst the Archenemy to Constellations, and the great foe that she had been brought to Alora to do battle against. The monsters spread out to better dispatch the force of humans invading their stolen territory, and her fellows went in turn to meet them. The less experienced among them might have gone in fear, in the face of their enemy's might, the likes of which tore concrete asunder like so much wet sand.

Odessa had no such fear. She had seen the most divine of the Archenemy's armies firsthand. In the face of such Gods, she could only find the Spearmen before her wanting by comparison.

Heavy boots met the street below one step at a time as the power within seemed to dance up her spine and lick at her fingertips. There were eight foes to be felled, and only six Constellations to be spared. Their leader faced off with more than her fair share, as was to be expected of a Red Giant. It was like as not that Ahkari would be sufficient to defeat the entire patrol of Bishops by herself, given the time. But every moment spent dispatching the high castes, one by one, would leave the others to wreak havoc upon their infantry. Even as the Stardust among them struggled to deflect a blow and found herself in the care of a more veteran Constellation and Rudis dispatched of one of their number, another descended upon the nearest support vehicle to the front line, bringing to bear the tip of its monstrous blade. Even the thickest armor of a human transport would puncture like so much tissue paper in the face of such an assault, and with it so too would those unfortunate souls inside now hurriedly moving into reverse.

Every inch the vehicle retreated, the energy within her seemed to surge. She breathed through the euphoric pain until it was nothing more but a passing squall. She breathed as the rapture threatened to consume her. The black clouds above whirled within her mind's eye, and yet she remained atop her mountain peak, at the eye of the storm. Every breath seemed to coax them to rumble. Every step seemed to dare the clouds to lash out. Once. Twice. Three times. By the time her boot met the ground for the fourth time, and her lungs emptied, the world itself seemed to slow to a crawl. The frenzied infantry carriers. The charging behemoth only meters away from it. The thousands of bullets whizzing about the air froze in that most exulting of moments.

Then, the world seemed to move all at once, and Odessa moved with it.

In the space between heartbeats, she was gone, leaving only a concussive blast and shattered roadway in her wake. The Bishop's spear lunged forward like some horrible, hydraulic viper, lashing out to claim its prey. But its fangs found no such purchase in its quarry. The razor-edge of its gargantuan stopped meters shy of its intended target, the horrendous force behind its wild attack coming to a creaking halt in the embrace of a woman so much smaller than it as to beggar belief. The servos in Odessa's gauntlets whirred and hissed as her fingers bit down like the jaws of some equally horrible beast along the very tip of its spear. Her arm almost seemed to vibrate as every strand of muscle she had clenched with a might that could only be described as superhuman. Riding the lightning had carried her to the defense of her allies, and in that stunning moment, it filled her with the vigor to halt juggernauts as one might halt a tossed ball, coursing through her body like an almighty circuit.

Whatever intelligence the beast possessed rebelled against the ludicrous notion of what its misshapen eyes saw. It jerked backward with such force that one might have expected Odessa's arm to come with it. But her body held strong, muscles in her back tensing like so many steel cables as they maintained her stance. Her knuckles were surely as pale as milk beneath the heavy, cobalt metal encasing them, her fingers exerting force such that they might well have shattered the spear between them before letting go. The monster tried again and again to free its weapon, each time only managing to budge the defiant warrior holding it hostage a matter of centimeters. It roared in protest and yet found little more than icy aurum eyes staring back at it, unflinching, unfeeling.

Its fellows were not so heartless. Another Bishop, having clamored atop the ruins of a nearby building to find an angle of attack on the unguarded infantry beyond, turned to face them. A bestial roar hearkened its arrival. Even an animal could understand pack tactics. Attack her flank while she was busy holding off its fellow hunter. Fell greater prey by working in tandem. One could even call it intelligent if they did not know any better.

Neither intelligence nor might, would carry the day for them, however. The second Bishop launched itself from the building in a shower of broken concrete and glass, rocketing down like a reaper from above to bring death and desolation upon her. She waited there, in the eye, for it to arrive. The storm blazed all around her, but she did not flinch from it. She welcomed it in the same way she welcomed her opponent's challenge. It was only in that split moment before the alien weapon came down to render her as paste that the skies opened once more. The ground shattered once more, metal met metal, and Odessa nearly buckled in the face of a blow that embedded her boots well into the ground below.

Nearly.

But a child of Okeanos did not wither in the face of such tribulations. A thousand thousand tiny needles seemed to prick all along her arms as she held both Spearmen at bay, the Heavens blessing them with necessary strength for the herculean endeavor to come. Their might combined, they might well have managed to tear her in two by pulling in unison, but such a fate was not one she intended to face. There was not even enough time for her heart to beat once between the second Bishop's spear finding purchase against her gauntlets before her back heaved mightily, and she turned, hard as hard could be, first at her shoulders, then at her hips. Her legs cut through the earth that encased them as she spun, pulling so hard that the first Bishop lost its footing and the second, still airborne from its assault, found itself caught up in the momentum of the Constellation that held its weapon so firmly.

Were they truly intelligent, they might have simply let go of their weapons in that moment and freed themselves from her grip. But their attachment to their weaponry would prove to be their downfall. In one cataclysmic show of might, Odessa hefted both Spearmen into the air, one held aloft in each arm. Once they were both deprived of the ground below, and only then, did she finally let loose. Not her grip, no, but the tempest swirling within her. The lightning within flowed like the waters of a mighty dam let free, and sparks of electricity danced along every inch of the horrible monsters caught up in her momentum. It surged and crackled and roared until finally, with a whine, the barriers that had bedeviled her more mortal companions broke under the flow of her anomaly.

And in the fraction of the second to follow, that which still flowed within her gave her the strength to bring her arms together, swinging the Bishops into each other. The circuit was complete at that moment, and the storm passed through them as it had her.

But they were no children of Okeanos. Day became night in the face of the flash to follow. Thunder boomed loud enough to shatter what glass remained along the ruined avenue they battled upon. The stench of ozone filled the air.

And when the sun returned in the wake of her great undertaking, there was little left in Odessa's grasp but blazing slag. Hot ash and ember rained down on her cheeks as she used the remaining strength in her arms to toss the half-melted spears and the remnants of the Bishops now fused to them to either side of herself, each landing with a heavy crash. Another breath, to clear the euphoria. Another breath to come down from the rush. Without ceremony, Odessa wrestled her leg free from the earthen prison it had been driven into, and soon her steps continued, leading her further into the battle. There were more foes to fell. Her storm could not yet be allowed to pass.

The Things We Fight For

Odessa

Location — Petrichor-8 System, Frontier Planet Alora

Interacting — @Xiro Zean

---

War was never something to be taken lightly. It was a difficult, costly affair for all those involved. Even the most legendary of warriors grew weary of it after a time. The rush of battle, the thrill of found in glory, of clashing against foes beyond the ken of mankind grew dull in the face of constant, unending repetition. Like howling wind against a mighty cliff, it wore one down bit by bit, piece by piece, almost unnoticeable, until they were made lesser for it. After a time, war became laborious. Tiresome. The campaign to defend the planet Alora from the encroaching forces of the Aberrants had long since transcended tiresome.

Perhaps that was why Odessa chose the relative solace of solitude over the comfort of socialization. The burnt-out ruins of what must have once served as a hotel proved their meager force with a place to rest out of sight from the watchful eye of their foes, who circled the skies above like so many wild dogs, hungry for any scraps they might find amidst the desolation their packs wrought upon the surface. Most of their company had broken off into their disparate groups, the enlisted men trying to distract themselves from the gnawing dread of what was to come. The fighting to reach where they stood had been fierce, but the fight was yet to conclude. They were nearing their objective but not quite at it yet. The most ferocious resistance was yet to come, and already, they had lost so much. Those valiant survivors swept up in the orbit of a Red Giant on the warpath could be forgiven their discomfort.

Odessa would not forgive herself for such things.

There was nothing to be gained in ruminating on a fate yet to come. Those who dreaded the future to come—who allowed fear to turn their minds to the potential for imminent failure—already condemned themselves to an inglorious defeat. In lieu of such lamentation, the Constellation rested her body against what likely constituted a supporting wall during the hotel's heyday, arms crossed over her chest and her cap pulled down over her eyes, soaking in what rest she could manage between sorties. Some might have thought her to have been asleep. The more clever of them might have thought to get some sleep all their own, knowing what was to come. Such a luxury would certainly evade Odessa, if not for her responsibilities, then for the timely arrival of the group's 'commander'.

Ahkari Ganju was not a familiar face before Alora. To hear it told, she had been across the frontier on worlds foreign to Odessa, earning her place in the stars across what must have been dozens of planetary conflicts. Yet she hurried across the vast sea of stars when the archenemy threatened the world they now shared, and for good reason. Alora was more than just another front to Ahkari. It was home. Her home. And now, it was being made hollow by a parasitic host that could not be reasoned with nor easily repelled. Every day of the last six weeks, a little more of the planet's vitality drained away, used to birth the mechanical monstrosities that had swarmed over their ranks in the millions. A little more of Alora died with every second, minute, and hour. The specifics of how long a world could hold out against such a pestilence were lost to a woman who had steeped herself more in the lore of killing the disease than treating its symptoms, but it could not be very much longer.

Indeed, if Ahkari's very audible conversation was anything to go by, it would not be long until the event horizon was crossed. Their commander did well to hide it, but Odessa could hear it in her voice. A need to find an end. To make the sacrifices make sense. Desperation for a cure.

All understandable things to feel. How many could stand idly by and allow their homeland to be consumed? To have spent weeks on end, countless comrades, millions of lives, only to still lose the world that had birthed them? It was an easy thing to be objective about when it was not one's world. Could she be half-so-logical if Okeanos was threatened? If the lives of her daughter and her family hung in the balance? Perhaps she could. Perhaps, in her years of training, she had mastered herself enough to make the correct choice. For whatever else one might have said about Ahkari Ganju, however desperate she was to bring salvation to Alora, one could not question her instincts. Her choice was the correct one. The only one. To see their collective voyage to a conclusion—be it tragic or otherwise.

When the Red Giant stepped forward looking for counsel from those who had fought beside, Odessa tilted her cap up and scanned the room with a single aureate eye, following the first to voice their opinions. The pilots seemed to have the requisite dedication to see the plan through. For that much, they could be respected. Most of those not born of noble warrior's blood did not dare to face such insurmountable odds without overt protest. Either they were cut of stronger cloth than most, or they had given themselves over to the stark reality of their situation. Death was a likely companion in such campaigns. But death would come for all in due time. Better to meet it on one's terms than allow it to come to their door unimpeded.

But that did not mean it should be met eagerly or recklessly. Pushing herself off the heels of her muddied boots, the Perseid made her way through the ranks and toward their impromptu commander. Approaching from the side, she offered the comfort of her voice before that of her gesture.

"I concur with this course of action. There is no such thing as 'playing it safe' in regard to our enemy. With every moment they grow stronger. If we wait any longer, we consign ourselves to defeat. All we have sacrificed will have been for naught."

The weight of her weapons might have been enough to drag a lesser woman to her knees, yet after years of their constant embrace, the bulk of Odessa's gauntlets weighed no heavier on her than skin. A similarly unfitting lightness might well have carried over in her touch, as she brought one of her metal-clad hands to rest atop Ahkari's shoulder. She squeezed with all the comfort one could manage in their position.

"If we are to do this, however, we cannot allow desperation to reach a swift victory to cloud our vision. We must act swiftly, but not recklessly. We must carefully plot our course before setting off."

Her countenance bore both a gentle empathy, acknowledging her fellow Constellation's earnest wish to save her home, but also a desire in itself to see that want made real. A desire that she was confident could be made to come to pass, with the right direction.

She could feel the stiffening of the muscles even beneath her steel, the tensing that precluded battle. The Red Giant turned toward her, eyes searching, not for validation but for a purpose in her actions. It seemed she would take no comfort from the gesture.

"Do you have an alternative?" Aurigae endeavored, her arms crossing as she glanced at the holographic display hovering a dozen feet away, slaved over by the handful of information specialists in the company. "Be that as it may, this is a situation that calls for desperation. Our efforts must be swift if we are to minimize the damage dealt to the planet as much as we can. The mission is dire enough that the planet might have already been lost during this brief conversation."

The commander's words were straight to the point as ever. It seemed like she was all but ready to rush out into the streets with the company at her heels, prepared to go down in a blaze of glory if that was what was required to take the nest. All the more important Odessa had an alternative. Bravery was an expectation for those who called themselves Constellations, but there was a stark divide between bravery and foolhardiness. Such a line was blurred by the notion of caution equating to inaction.

"We do not have the resources to brute force our way to the nest and proceed to take it after arriving," The Perseid lowered her voice as she continued, offering a convenient excuse for their closeness when reassurance was placed out of the way, as well as keeping morale from crumbling any more than it already had, "We need to draw the Aberrants between ourselves and the Princess away if we are to make it in time and with sufficient force to kill it. Contact General Ackeroid and request he launch an offensive to cover our advance."

It was hard to say what forces the Brigadier General had at his disposal. It had been some weeks since their force had the mercy to rendezvous with anything greater than a few scattered platoons. Whatever he did have, though, was doubtlessly in greater number than their own company, and like as not to be fresher to the fight. As long as they could cause a significant enough disturbance to throw the Aberrant's equilibrium out of balance, it would be enough for them to land a decisive blow at the heart of their enemy. Once deprived of the head, the body of the beast typically collapsed in the days to follow.

"They need not take any ground. Only force the Princess to divert resources away from its protection to keep them at bay, opening a path for us to reach it. Of that much, he should be capable of providing us."

The Things We Fight For

mommy's home

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx B A S I C I N F O [Name] Odessa Ulani Thaddeus Isabella Samara [Callsign] Pegasus [Gender] Female [Age] 26 [Rank and Designation] Main-Class Constellation [Place of Birth] Core Territories; Okeanos [Official Statement] "This odyssey, too, has a purpose." C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Anti-Barrier Sword] #15: Heaven & Earth Gauntlets [Anti-Barrier Quotient] 30% [Physical Description] Though possessing an ostentatious name, the Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are rather tame in their appearance. A series of AB-alloyed metal plates overlaid atop carbon nano-mesh fabric disguise a network of miniaturized internal servos, designed to provide their wielder with the manual dexterity of uncovered hands while encasing their limbs in a pair of weapons capable of withstanding blows launched at speeds approaching that of light. Though lacking decoration, the dark, smoky metal seems to have an almost cobalt coloration that shines through when its wielder channels the wrath of the heavens through it. [Attributes] The Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are so named because of their affinity for that which bridges the gap between: lightning. Those who possess Anomaly abilities within the purview of electricity find their abilities enhanced when channeled through them, increasing their output significantly. The gauntlets have a tendency to 'drink' in the power that flows through them, becoming increasingly iridescent as the charge within grows more and more powerful. Their metallic shells have been scorched more than once by impromptu flares of plasma caused by wielders spontaneously vaporizing enemy and surrounding alike once the energy within had reached a feverish peak. [Anomaly] Two Heavens [Origin] Polarity [Phenomena] Ostensibly an ability to manipulate one's own electromagnetic field, Two Heavens is an Anomaly steeped more heavily in philosophy than it is science. The concept of the internal and external, of activity and passivity, has a tradition in the martial world stretching back to the days of Old Earth. Those adept in the usage of Two Heavens take this tradition to heart, perfecting first their inner selves—the so-called esoterikós ouranós—through intense self-discipline and meditation, such that they might control the incredible power inherent to their lineage. The counterpart to this, the exoterikós ouranós, is honed through rigorous physical conditioning and training in the martial arts, such that their bodies might handle the incredible strain of what is to come. Only once a wielder has mastered both aspects might they move on to channeling the true strength of their ability. Combining their inner and outer worlds, Two Heavens adepts become a font of incredible energy, generating absurd amounts of electricity within themselves. Born from their own bodies, the lightning which courses through them does them no harm, but instead empowers them beyond their means. Their muscles produce a force that is inconceivable even amongst the lauded Warrior Families, their perception of the world slowing as they move at the speed of the electricity crackling along their very nerves. A master of the Two Heavens is a force of nature, the eye of the storm, power made flesh. Their fury is made known in brief, near-instant exchanges, obliterating their foes in brilliant flashes of light, and leaving only thunder and the lamentation of enemies in their wake. [Limitation] For many who possess an Anomaly, utilizing their power comes to them as second nature, commanding oceans of flame or tearing very fabric of space as easily as a bird takes to wing. Those whose blood carries the Two Heavens are not given such an easy path. Lightning is dangerous, fast and unpredictable. Merely directing it requires the utmost respect and precision, much less coursing it through one's self to force their body to achieve heights previous thought impossible. Two Heaven adepts must exercise the utmost focus when utilizing their abilities, carefully measuring their every move in the instant before it is made and only exerting themselves as much as precisely necessary. It is a taxing Anomaly to make use of, not only mentally, but also physically. As their cousins under the auspices of Limit might best understand, the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and those who channel the primordial might of the heavens through flesh and bone burn brighter than most could ever hope to.

Profile [Surface-level Impression] Odessa can best be described as reassuring, if not approachable. She is cool and collected, possessing a certain comforting serenity that belies the steely conviction beneath her unflappable exterior. Kind by nature, she often finds herself looking after the welfare of others, especially those comrades whom she has had the opportunity to fight beside before. Nurturing and stoic in equal parts, one might be forgiven for thinking her gentle. A notion that is quickly replaced when she enters the field of battle. A seasoned veteran and warrior, the peaceful tranquility that underpins her behavior outside of battle turns to a cold fury in the face of the archenemy, like a deadly calm before the storm. She is as ruthless as she is fearless while fighting the enemies of mankind, efficiently dispatching her opponents with a dead-eyed composure that rattles even fellow Constellations. Woe be unto those who make themselves her enemies, for Odessa is a woman of absolute faith in both her sense of justice and the conviction to see that justice is done by her own hand, regardless of what their affiliation may be. [Personal History] Born amidst a terrible hurricane during the dog days of Okeanos' long summer, the howling winds and crack of lightning served as an omen for the tempestuous and stormy youth that Odessa was to lead. The child of a decorated Constellation and his beloved wife, there was little doubt that greatness would come to her in time—a notion backed up by rigorous testing when she grew old enough. With a high aptitude for the Anomaly latent in her genes and exceptional scores on her physical exams, it was a foregone conclusion that she would follow in the footsteps of her father and his father before him and become one of humanity's chosen defenders. Aptitude was not enough to guarantee her such a position of pride, however. Her line held itself to higher standards than more pragmatic families. She was brave and bold and strong and swift, yes, but also impetuous and reckless, more focused on playing at arms than refining herself in silent meditation and careful contemplation. An abundance of heat in her blood, an affinity for the exoterikós ouranós, would impede her hopes of mastering the Two Heavens which had propelled their family to prominence nearly a century before. A course correction was required. When the time came for the wild young Odessa to enroll in training for the Constellation program, she was not placed with some off-worlder who might encourage such a cataclysmic lack of balance in the pursuit of martial excellence, but instead with an older, more prudent hand: her grandsire, the so-called Old Wolf of Okeanos. A seasoned warrior and survivor of many clashes against the archenemy, Autolycus, whose true name now sprawled into the dozens, was a harsh taskmaster who had little patience for his granddaughter's foolhardiness. He had seen firsthand what tragedies such impulsiveness wrought upon the battlefield mankind found itself ever losing ground upon, much less how disastrous it could be for those who thought to command the primal forces of the heavens. Something he vowed to teach her. And something she learned. Bit by bit. Lesson by painful lesson. The fires in her never quite died out, but they did temper in time. She learned that if she was to master the world beyond her, she needed first to master the world within. Once she committed that principle to heart, once she found discipline within herself rather than outside herself, she excelled. Whatever progress might have been lost to the willful arrogance of youth was more than made up for under her grandfather's watchful eye. As she neared womanhood, and her official induction into the ranks of the lauded Constellations, her capricious nature reared itself for one final time, a parting shot to Okeanos. On the eve of her graduation, Odessa found herself with child. Whether purposeful or not, the conception of her daughter halted any hopes of quickly progressing as a Constellation. The armies of humanity had little use for a woman with a child in her belly, and the precious bloodline the child bore was too valuable to potentially sacrifice in the hopes of an expedient promotion. The traditions of her family, still but fledglings compared to the storied ranks of the Sol's most prestigious, further compounded the issue. Their focus on strong foundations barred a child from being left by both parents in the first two years of life. As Odessa refused to name her daughter's sire, she was planet-bound for the foreseeable future. Some called her feckless. Others, a coward, using her child to escape her duties. She paid them little mind. The baby, Thelema, was born after many long months of such scorn. And in holding that smallest, most innocent soul in her arms, Odessa found within herself a font of something she had lacked for much of her life. She found prudence. She found restraint. It was difficult to commit to danger and recklessness when someone so dear depended upon one. Raising her daughter for those precious few years was an eye-opening experience for a young woman who had, until that point, lived life for herself first and foremost, a woman of force and activity rather than consideration and thoughtfulness. As she watched her flesh and blood grow from a helpless infant to a bright, vibrant little girl eager to learn about the world, Odessa too learned. And in those lessons, she would find salvation when the call to war finally reached Okeanos. No longer forbidden from service as a Constellation, Odessa was gifted with the mantle of Pegasus. All the better prepared for the rigors of battle by her long rest, she remained a Stardust-class for only a few months, ascending to the rank of Proto just in time for a dire front to open in humanity's unending war against the Aberrations: the Battle of Planet Pray. Until that point, Odessa had only dealt in skirmishes and clean-up operations in the wake of more experienced Constellations. The battle for Pray did not seem like it would be much more trying than those most minor of clashes she had known. The initial days of the conflict were tame. All went as expected for a mid-level incursion into occupied human space. Then the Crownguard arrived, and her baptism in battle rapidly devolved into a baptism by fire. The arrival of a Crownguard was a disaster for the world it landed upon. It was not uncommon for a single one to overpower an entire planet in a day and lay waste to dozens of humanity's best in the process. The surface of Pray was cursed not only with one but two Crownguards only days before its defenders could reach the princess' nest. In the span of a mere few days, they had carved a bloody swathe through the valiant defenders of the world. Forty-three Constellations perished, among them three separate Supernovas—each the veteran of a hundred such battles—and the Main-class Constellation that had taken Odessa under her wing. It was only a few weeks later, when the remaining Constellations managed to put down one of the beasts, and send its companion fleeing for its life with the Princess in tow, that salvation was in sight. With neither the incomprehensible strength of a Crownguard to support their offensive, or Princess to buoy their numbers, Pray was fully liberated from the Aberrant threat after a month non-stop fighting, much of its surface in ruin. It was a victory for humanity. A Pyrrhic victory, but a victory all the same. It was also an important experience for Odessa. Her first taste of true battle. Of true fear. Of true fury. Were she the same arrogant pup that came striding from the Old Wolf's den feeling all the invincibility of a young fool, she may yet have perished in that treacherous world. But thoughts of home, thoughts of her daughter, kept her disciplined when she otherwise wished to cave to instinct. Her love for Thelema kept her spirit strong when all seemed lost. Through care and experience, she learned wisdom, and through wisdom, she managed to leave the planet Pray on her own two feet and carry on to other battlefields across the domain of mankind. The years that followed went swiftly. A survivor of Pray, she quickly found herself promoted to the rank of Main-class before year's end by virtue of how ferocious the fighting had been. Years bled into years as she bounced between active front to active front, honing her skills as a warrior and a leader of men. Every time a Constellation stepped onto the surface of a world, there were no guarantees of victory, of living on to see another day. Pray had taught her that much, and much earlier than most. With her beloved daughter coming of age and beginning her tutelage under that same steely Old Wolf that had molded her into a force of nature, however, the campaign to defend Alora seemed promising. It seemed hopeful. And it seemed she would swiftly be proven wrong. Home World [Planet Description] Okeanos is as lush and verdant a world as one is likely to find outside of the ancient gardens-worlds of the Milky Way. It is so named for the massive freshwater sea that bisects the planet in two, like the fabled river of Old Earth. As this ocean wraps around the length of the planet's equator, the waters are warm and rich with fauna, some of which reach truly monstrous sizes, supported by the abundance of oxygen in the atmosphere and the abundance of smaller prey. The ocean plays host to a series of archipelagos and island chains that dot its pristine waters, with two large, mountainous continents in the north and south where the majority of the population make their homes. Okeanos has a full four seasons thanks to its stable rotation, with hot summers and temperate winters separated by equally mild autumn and spring. Owing to its vast ocean and warm temperatures, Okeanos is wracked by intense storms throughout its hottest months, with some islands vanishing entirely into nation-sized hurricanes at the height of the storm season. [Culture] Okeanos, though welcoming on a surface level, is a planet of extremes. The floodplains along its coasts and larger archipelagos are fertile enough that, in combination with its rich sea, the planet's population has had little difficulty cultivating the necessary food supply to sustain itself. The seasons, barring summer, are mild and temperate enough that open-air settlements are the norm, defying the more advanced arcologies of other colonized worlds in its sector. But these things come at a cost. Summer brings with it violent storms capable of wiping out entire nation-states, and the primeval sea that produces innumerable aquatic sustenance also plays host to aggressive, monstrous mega-fauna capable of dragging the largest vessels to a watery grave. This duality has instilled a distinctive devil-may-care attitude in its populace. The world is a paradise with the potential for cruelty unimaginable. Therefore, the people reason, it is best to live well and to live boldly while one has the chance, and to seize every opportunity presented to them before the mercurial hands of fate twist the fortune against them. The relative plenty of Okeanos means that the populace needs not to trouble themselves over matters of food or energy security, giving rise to a culture of warrior-scholars the likes of which their ancient progenitors would be proud. Its government is organized into an aristocratic representative democracy, wherein members of its founding families are elected by the citizenry based on who will see to their needs the best and, increasingly, who can manage the demands of the UAS without jeopardizing their way of life. [Warrior Family] Descended from a black sheep of the Symtropantos line, the Perseid family are a relatively new arrival to Okeanos, appearing only after the defeat of Belle during the Chandra conflict of 268 IC. Having lost every comrade he had come to love throughout the war, Perseus found comfort and rest on the ocean planet's shores, charmed by the starkly optimistic views of the locals. It was on Okeanos that the experiences he had weathered—and the wisdom of the dead—that he formulated the doctrine that would go on to govern the family which would one day carry his name. Fathering a plethora of children on a dozen wives, it would only be after his death in 282 IC, and after those children rose to prominence in the fight against the Aberrations, that the Perseid line was formally acknowledged as a fledgling Warrior Family. By then, their code had been formalized. Sons and daughters of the Perseid line were to live courageously, but not recklessly. They were to act with wisdom and temperance, be just in deed and honest in word, and demonstrate a near fanatical loyalty to their comrades, not only those born of their blood but especially those born from battle. This dedication is best demonstrated by the tradition of enthýmisi, or remembrance. A pariah for his lack of ability amongst the Symtropantos, Perseus cast off his birth name and vowed to become the most shining beacon of humanity, a Constellation, without them. He managed to achieve this feat in no small part the assistance of his fellows in the rigorous training process. These comrades of his, of whom he thought the world, answered the call to bring down the Hive-Mother Belle, and he so accompanied them. Yet to his despair, all but Perseus perished, one after another, in the fight to break the Queen's Crownguard and vanquish the foul beast for the good of man. When the monster was slain, the victory all mankind felt could only be pyrrhic for Perseus. New Constellations would file in to replace his dear companions, picking up their weapons and carrying on where they left off. Crushed by the thought they might yet be forgotten, Perseus began the tradition of enthýmisi, memorializing the dead by taking their names onto his own, replacing the stain of Symtropantos with those who cherished him and were cherished in kind. This tradition is carried on by his descendants, who begin their lives bearing only the name their mothers gift them. As they live and learn, love and lose, their names grow, and every sacrifice is immortalized as part of their very identity. The oldest Perseids have names that stretch into the dozens, each a beloved friend now lost to the archenemy, each a reminder of why they fight. Perseids are therefore a proud and dependable family. They fight for their beliefs without regret, pursue their justice without pause, and defend their companions with unmatched ferocity. Their commitment to defeating the Aberrations goes beyond the simple desire for survival, but a deep and ingrained sense of duty, both to those who have been lost before them and those who will be lost long after they too have passed on. Only with the final defeat of the Hive-Mothers will their purpose, set out by Perseus himself, be fulfilled, and only then will their grim determination be halted. Notable Contacts [Name] Thelema [Relation to Subject] Daughter [Analysis] Odessa's only child and the light of her life. Thelema is a bright little girl of eight years old, and by all accounts, surpasses even her mother in potential as a Constellation. Precocious by nature, she lacks the fiery streak of Odessa's youth in favor of a curious intelligence that precedes her years. Like many from the more stable Warrior Families, Thelema idolizes her mother and great-grandfather, who serves as her primary guardian in Odessa's absence. She wishes to one day follow in their footsteps as a Constellation all her own, something that she has only just begun journeying towards as of the beginning of the year. [Name] Rudis Saint-Saëns [Relation to Subject] Comrade [Analysis] A fellow Main-class Constellation who made Odessa's acquaintance some time before the campaign to liberate Alora. Rudis' indomitable will and dedication to protecting her comrades quickly endeared her to Odessa, who found that she had more in common with the fiery redhead than not. Perhaps too much in common, even. While the relationship between the two can largely be described as that of a warrior kinship, forged in the heat of both real and mock battles, Odessa can not help but worry over Rudis. The image of a volatile young woman filled with an absolute confidence in herself is not one that is unfamiliar to Odessa, and she knows firsthand the folly of believing that one is absolute in their indestructibility: that the steel which never bends will eventually break under enough strain. She can only hope to be there when the weight grows too impossible to bear.

The Things We Fight For

mommy's home

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx B A S I C I N F O [Name] Odessa Ulani Thaddeus Isabella Samara [Callsign] Pegasus [Gender] Female [Age] 26 [Rank and Designation] Main-Class Constellation [Place of Birth] Core Territories; Okeanos [Official Statement] "This odyssey, too, has a purpose." C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Anti-Barrier Sword] #15: Heaven & Earth Gauntlets [Anti-Barrier Quotient] 30% [Physical Description] Though possessing an ostentatious name, the Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are rather tame in their appearance. A series of AB-alloyed metal plates overlaid atop carbon nano-mesh fabric disguise a network of miniaturized internal servos, designed to provide their wielder with the manual dexterity of uncovered hands while encasing their limbs in a pair of weapons capable of withstanding blows launched at speeds approaching that of light. Though lacking decoration, the dark, smoky metal seems to have an almost cobalt coloration that shines through when its wielder channels the wrath of the heavens through it. [Attributes] The Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are so named because of their affinity for that which bridges the gap between: lightning. Those who possess Anomaly abilities within the purview of electricity find their abilities enhanced when channeled through them, increasing their output significantly. The gauntlets have a tendency to 'drink' in the power that flows through them, becoming increasingly iridescent as the charge within grows more and more powerful. Their metallic shells have been scorched more than once by impromptu flares of plasma caused by wielders spontaneously vaporizing enemy and surrounding alike once the energy within had reached a feverish peak. [Anomaly] Two Heavens [Origin] Polarity [Phenomena] Ostensibly an ability to manipulate one's own electromagnetic field, Two Heavens is an Anomaly steeped more heavily in philosophy than it is science. The concept of the internal and external, of activity and passivity, has a tradition in the martial world stretching back to the days of Old Earth. Those adept in the usage of Two Heavens take this tradition to heart, perfecting first their inner selves—the so-called esoterikós ouranós—through intense self-discipline and meditation, such that they might control the incredible power inherent to their lineage. The counterpart to this, the exoterikós ouranós, is honed through rigorous physical conditioning and training in the martial arts, such that their bodies might handle the incredible strain of what is to come. Only once a wielder has mastered both aspects might they move on to channeling the true strength of their ability. Combining their inner and outer worlds, Two Heavens adepts become a font of incredible energy, generating absurd amounts of electricity within themselves. Born from their own bodies, the lightning which courses through them does them no harm, but instead empowers them beyond their means. Their muscles produce a force that is inconceivable even amongst the lauded Warrior Families, their perception of the world slowing as they move at the speed of the electricity crackling along their very nerves. A master of the Two Heavens is a force of nature, the eye of the storm, power made flesh. Their fury is made known in brief, near-instant exchanges, obliterating their foes in brilliant flashes of light, and leaving only thunder and the lamentation of enemies in their wake. [Limitation] For many who possess an Anomaly, utilizing their power comes to them as second nature, commanding oceans of flame or tearing very fabric of space as easily as a bird takes to wing. Those whose blood carries the Two Heavens are not given such an easy path. Lightning is dangerous, faster and unpredictable. Merely directing it requires the utmost respect and precision, much less coursing it through one's self to force their body to achieve heights previous thought impossible. Two Heaven adepts must exercise the utmost focus when utilizing their abilities, carefully measuring their every move in the instant before it is made and only exerting themselves as much as precisely necessary. It is a taxing Anomaly to make use of, not only mentally, but also physically. As their cousins under the auspices of Limit might best understand, the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and those who channel the primordial might of the heavens through flesh and bone burn brighter than most could ever hope to.

Profile [Surface-level Impression] Odessa can best be described as reassuring, if not approachable. She is cool and collected, possessing a certain comforting serenity that belies the steely conviction beneath her unflappable exterior. Kind by nature, she often finds herself looking after the welfare of others, especially those comrades whom she has had the opportunity to fight beside before. Nurturing and stoic in equal parts, one might be forgiven for thinking her gentle. A notion that is quickly replaced when she enters the field of battle. A seasoned veteran and warrior, the peaceful tranquility that underpins her behavior outside of battle turns to a cold fury in the face of the archenemy, like a deadly calm before the storm. She is as ruthless as she is fearless while fighting the enemies of mankind, efficiently dispatching her opponents with a dead-eyed composure that rattles even fellow Constellations. Woe be unto those who make themselves her enemies, for Odessa is a woman of absolute faith in both her sense of justice and the conviction to see that justice is done by her own hand, regardless of what their affiliation may be. [Personal History] Born amidst a terrible hurricane during the dog days of Okeanos' long summer, the howling winds and crack of lightning served as an omen for the tempestuous and stormy youth that Odessa was to lead. The child of a decorated Constellation and his beloved wife, there was little doubt that greatness would come to her in time—a notion backed up by rigorous testing when she grew old enough. With a high aptitude for the Anomaly latent in her genes and exceptional scores on her physical exams, it was a foregone conclusion that she would follow in the footsteps of her father and his father before him and become one of humanity's chosen defenders. Aptitude was not enough to guarantee her such a position of pride, however. Her line held itself to higher standards than more pragmatic families. She was brave and bold and strong and swift, yes, but also impetuous and reckless, more focused on playing at arms than refining herself in silent meditation and careful contemplation. An abundance of heat in her blood, an affinity for the exoterikós ouranós, would impede her hopes of mastering the Two Heavens which had propelled their family to prominence nearly a century before. A course correction was required. When the time came for the wild young Odessa to enroll in training for the Constellation program, she was not placed with some off-worlder who might encourage such a cataclysmic lack of balance in the pursuit of martial excellence, but instead with an older, more prudent hand: her grandsire, the so-called Old Wolf of Okeanos. A seasoned warrior and survivor of many clashes against the archenemy, Autolycus, whose true name now sprawled into the dozens, was a harsh taskmaster who had little patience for his granddaughter's foolhardiness. He had seen firsthand what tragedies such impulsiveness wrought upon the battlefield mankind found itself ever losing ground upon, much less how disastrous it could be for those who thought to command the primal forces of the heavens. Something he vowed to teach her. And something she learned. Bit by bit. Lesson by painful lesson. The fires in her never quite died out, but they did temper in time. She learned that if she was to master the world beyond her, she needed first to master the world within. Once she committed that principle to heart, once she found discipline within herself rather than outside herself, she excelled. Whatever progress might have been lost to the willful arrogance of youth was more than made up for under her grandfather's watchful eye. As she neared womanhood, and her official induction into the ranks of the lauded Constellations, her capricious nature reared itself for one final time, a parting shot to Okeanos. On the eve of her graduation, Odessa found herself with child. Whether purposeful or not, the conception of her daughter halted any hopes of quickly progressing as a Constellation. The armies of humanity had little use for a woman with a child in her belly, and the precious bloodline the child bore was too valuable to potentially sacrifice in the hopes of an expedient promotion. The traditions of her family, still but fledglings compared to the storied ranks of the Sol's most prestigious, further compounded the issue. Their focus on strong foundations barred a child from being left by both parents in the first two years of life. As Odessa refused to name her daughter's sire, she was planet-bound for the foreseeable future. Some called her feckless. Others, a coward, using her child to escape her duties. She paid them little mind. The baby, Thelema, was born after many long months of such scorn. And in holding that smallest, most innocent soul in her arms, Odessa found within herself a font of something she had lacked for much of her life. She found prudence. She found restraint. It was difficult to commit to danger and recklessness when someone so dear depended upon one. Raising her daughter for those precious few years was an eye-opening experience for a young woman who had, until that point, lived life for herself first and foremost, a woman of force and activity rather than consideration and thoughtfulness. As she watched her flesh and blood grow from a helpless infant to a bright, vibrant little girl eager to learn about the world, Odessa too learned. And in those lessons, she would find salvation when the call to war finally reached Okeanos. No longer forbidden from service as a Constellation, Odessa was gifted with the mantle of Pegasus. All the better prepared for the rigors of battle by her long rest, she remained a Stardust-class for only a few months, ascending to the rank of Proto just in time for a dire front to open in humanity's unending war against the Aberrations: the Battle of Planet Pray. Until that point, Odessa had only dealt in skirmishes and clean-up operations in the wake of more experienced Constellations. The battle for Pray did not seem like it would be much more trying than those most minor of clashes she had known. The initial days of the conflict were tame. All went as expected for a mid-level incursion into occupied human space. Then the Crownguard arrived, and her baptism in battle rapidly devolved into a baptism by fire. The arrival of a Crownguard was a disaster for the world it landed upon. It was not uncommon for a single one to overpower an entire planet in a day and lay waste to dozens of humanity's best in the process. The surface of Pray was cursed not only with one but two Crownguards only days before its defenders could reach the princess' nest. In the span of a mere few days, they had carved a bloody swathe through the valiant defenders of the world. Forty-three Constellations perished, among them three separate Supernovas—each the veteran of a hundred such battles—and the Main-class Constellation that had taken Odessa under her wing. It was only a few weeks later, when the remaining Constellations managed to put down one of the beasts, and send its companion fleeing for its life with the Princess in tow, that salvation was in sight. With neither the incomprehensible strength of a Crownguard to support their offensive, or Princess to buoy their numbers, Pray was fully liberated from the Aberrant threat after a month non-stop fighting, much of its surface in ruin. It was a victory for humanity. A Pyrrhic victory, but a victory all the same. It was also an important experience for Odessa. Her first taste of true battle. Of true fear. Of true fury. Were she the same arrogant pup that came striding from the Old Wolf's den feeling all the invincibility of a young fool, she may yet have perished in that treacherous world. But thoughts of home, thoughts of her daughter, kept her disciplined when she otherwise wished to cave to instinct. Her love for Thelema kept her spirit strong when all seemed lost. Through care and experience, she learned wisdom, and through wisdom, she managed to leave the planet Pray on her own two feet and carry on to other battlefields across the domain of mankind. The years that followed went swiftly. A survivor of Pray, she quickly found herself promoted to the rank of Main-class before year's end by virtue of how ferocious the fighting had been. Years bled into years as she bounced between active front to active front, honing her skills as a warrior and a leader of men. Every time a Constellation stepped onto the surface of a world, there were no guarantees of victory, of living on to see another day. Pray had taught her that much, and much earlier than most. With her beloved daughter coming of age and beginning her tutelage under that same steely Old Wolf that had molded her into a force of nature, however, the campaign to defend Alora seemed promising. It seemed hopeful. And it seemed she would swiftly be proven wrong. Home World [Planet Description] Okeanos is as lush and verdant a world as one is likely to find outside of the ancient gardens-worlds of the Milky Way. It is so named for the massive freshwater sea that bisects the planet in two, like the fabled river for which it is named. As this ocean wraps around the length of the planet's equator, the waters are warm and rich with fauna, some of which reach truly monstrous sizes, supported by the abundance of oxygen in the atmosphere and the abundance of smaller prey. The ocean plays host to a series of archipelagos and island chains that dot its pristine waters, with two large, mountainous continents in the north and south where the majority of the population make their homes. Okeanos has a full four seasons thanks to its stable rotation, with hot summers and temperate winters separated by equally mild autumn and spring. Owing to its vast ocean and warm temperatures, Okeanos is wracked by intense storms throughout its hottest months, with some islands vanishing entirely into nation-sized hurricanes at the height of the storm season. [Culture] Okeanos, though welcoming on a surface level, is a planet of extremes. The floodplains along its coasts and larger archipelagos are fertile enough that, in combination with its rich sea, the planet's population has had little difficulty cultivating the necessary food supply to sustain itself. The seasons, barring summer, are mild and temperate enough that open-air settlements are the norm, defying the more advanced arcologies of other colonized worlds in its sector. But these things come at a cost. Summer brings with it violent storms capable of wiping out entire nation-states, and the primeval sea that produces innumerable aquatic sustenance also plays host to aggressive, monstrous mega-fauna capable of dragging the largest vessels to a watery grave. This duality has instilled a distinctive devil-may-care attitude in its populace. The world is a paradise with the potential for cruelty unimaginable. Therefore, the people reason, it is best to live well and to live boldly while one has the chance, and to seize every opportunity presented to them before the mercurial hands of fate twist the fortune against them. The relative plenty of Okeanos means that the populace needs not to trouble themselves over matters of food or energy security, giving rise to a culture of warrior-scholars the likes of which their ancient progenitors would be proud. Its government is organized into an aristocratic representative democracy, wherein members of its founding families are elected by the citizenry based on who will see to their needs the best and, increasingly, who can manage the demands of the UAS without jeopardizing their way of life. [Warrior Family] Descended from a black sheep of the Symtropantos line, the Perseid family are a relatively new arrival to Okeanos, appearing only after the defeat of Belle during the Chandra conflict of 268 IC. Having lost every comrade he had come to love throughout the war, Perseus found comfort and rest on the ocean planet's shores, charmed by the starkly optimistic views of the locals. It was on Okeanos that the experiences he had weathered—and the wisdom of the dead—that he formulated the doctrine that would go on to govern the family which would one day carry his name. Fathering a plethora of children on a dozen wives, it would only be after his death in 282 IC, and after those children rose to prominence in the fight against the Aberrations, that the Perseid line was formally acknowledged as a fledgling Warrior Family. By then, their code had been formalized. Sons and daughters of the Perseid line were to live courageously, but not recklessly. They were to act with wisdom and temperance, be just in deed and honest in word, and demonstrate a near fanatical loyalty to their comrades, not only those born of their blood but especially those born from battle. This dedication is best demonstrated by the tradition of enthýmisi, or remembrance. A pariah for his lack of ability amongst the Symtropantos, Perseus cast off his birth name and vowed to become the most shining beacon of humanity, a Constellation, without them. He managed to achieve this feat in no small part the assistance of his fellows in the rigorous training process. These comrades of his, of whom he thought the world, answered the call to bring down the Hive-Mother Belle, and he so accompanied them. Yet to his despair, all but Perseus perished, one after another, in the fight to break the Queen's Crownguard and vanquish the foul beast for the good of man. When the monster was slain, the victory all mankind felt could only be pyrrhic for Perseus. New Constellations would file in to replace his dear companions, picking up their weapons and carrying on where they left off. Crushed by the thought they might yet be forgotten, Perseus began the tradition of enthýmisi, memorializing the dead by taking their names onto his own, replacing the stain of Symtropantos with those who cherished him and were cherished in kind. This tradition is carried on by his descendants, who begin their lives bearing only the name their mothers gift them. As they live and learn, love and lose, their names grow, and every sacrifice is immortalized as part of their very identity. The oldest Perseids have names that stretch into the dozens, each a beloved friend now lost to the archenemy, each a reminder of why they fight. Perseids are therefore a proud and dependable family. They fight for their beliefs without regret, pursue their justice without pause, and defend their companions with unmatched ferocity. Their commitment to defeating the Aberrations goes beyond the simple desire for survival, but a deep and ingrained sense of duty, both to those who have been lost before them and those who will be lost long after they too have passed on. Only with the final defeat of the Hive-Mothers will their purpose, set out by Perseus himself, be fulfilled, and only then will their grim determination be halted. Notable Contacts [Name] Thelema [Relation to Subject] Daughter [Analysis] Odessa's only child and the light of her life. Thelema is a bright little girl of eight years old, and by all accounts, surpasses even her mother in potential as a Constellation. Precocious by nature, she lacks the fiery streak of Odessa's youth in favor of a curious intelligence that precedes her years. Like many from the more stable Warrior Families, Thelema idolizes her mother and great-grandfather, who serves as her primary guardian in Odessa's absence. She wishes to one day follow in their footsteps as a Constellation all her own, something that she has only just begun journeying towards as of the beginning of the year.

Asura's Shrine

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx B A S I C I N F O [Name] Odessa Ulani Thaddeus Isabella Samara [Callsign] Pegasus [Gender] Female [Age] 26 [Rank and Designation] Main-Class Constellation [Place of Birth] Core Territories; Okeanos [Official Statement] "This odyssey, too, has a purpose." C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Anti-Barrier Sword] #15: Heaven & Earth Gauntlets [Anti-Barrier Quotient] 30% [Physical Description] Though possessing an ostentatious name, the Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are rather tame in their appearance. A series of AB-alloyed metal plates overlaid atop carbon nano-mesh fabric disguise a network of miniaturized internal servos, designed to provide their wielder with the manual dexterity of uncovered hands while encasing their limbs in a pair of weapons capable of withstanding blows launched at speeds approaching that of light. Though lacking decoration, the dark, smoky metal seems to have an almost cobalt coloration that shines through when its wielder channels the wrath of the heavens through it. [Attributes] The Heaven & Earth Gauntlets are so named because of their affinity for that which bridges the gap between: lightning. Those who possess Anomaly abilities within the purview of electricity find their abilities enhanced when channeled through them, increasing their output significantly. The gauntlets have a tendency to 'drink' in the power that flows through them, becoming increasingly iridescent as the charge within grows more and more powerful. Their metallic shells have been scorched more than once by impromptu flares of plasma caused by wielders spontaneously vaporizing enemy and surrounding alike once the energy within had reached a feverish peak. [Anomaly] Two Heavens [Origin] Polarity [Phenomena] Ostensibly an ability to manipulate one's own electromagnetic field, Two Heavens is an Anomaly steeped more heavily in philosophy than it is science. The concept of the internal and external, of activity and passivity, has a tradition in the martial world stretching back to the days of Old Earth. Those adept in the usage of Two Heavens take this tradition to heart, perfecting first their inner selves—the so-called esoterikós ouranós—through intense self-discipline and meditation, such that they might control the incredible power inherent to their lineage. The counterpart to this, the exoterikós ouranós, is honed through rigorous physical conditioning and training in the martial arts, such that their bodies might handle the incredible strain of what is to come. Only once a wielder has mastered both aspects might they move on to channeling the true strength of their ability. Combining their inner and outer worlds, Two Heavens adepts become a font of incredible energy, generating absurd amounts of electricity within themselves. Born from their own bodies, the lightning which courses through them does them no harm, but instead empowers them beyond their means. Their muscles produce a force that is inconceivable even amongst the lauded Warrior Families, their perception of the world slowing as they move at the speed of the electricity crackling along their very nerves. A master of the Two Heavens is a force of nature, the eye of the storm, power made flesh. Their fury is made known in brief, near-instant exchanges, obliterating their foes in brilliant flashes of light, and leaving only thunder and the lamentation of enemies in their wake. [Limitation] For many who possess an Anomaly, utilizing their power comes to them as second nature, commanding oceans of flame or tearing very fabric of space as easily as a bird takes to wing. Those whose blood carries the Two Heavens are not given such an easy path. Lightning is dangerous, faster and unpredictable. Merely directing it requires the utmost respect and precision, much less coursing it through one's self to force their body to achieve heights previous thought impossible. Two Heaven adepts must exercise the utmost focus when utilizing their abilities, carefully measuring their every move in the instant before it is made and only exerting themselves as much as precisely necessary. It is a taxing Anomaly to make use of, not only mentally, but also physically. As their cousins under the auspices of Limit might best understand, the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and those who channel the primordial might of the heavens through flesh and bone burn brighter than most could ever hope to.

Profile [Surface-level Impression] Odessa can best be described as reassuring, if not approachable. She is cool and collected, possessing a certain comforting serenity that belies the steely conviction beneath her unflappable exterior. Kind by nature, she often finds herself looking after the welfare of others, especially those comrades whom she has had the opportunity to fight beside before. Nurturing and stoic in equal parts, one might be forgiven for thinking her gentle. A notion that is quickly replaced when she enters the field of battle. A seasoned veteran and warrior, the peaceful tranquility that underpins her behavior outside of battle turns to a cold fury in the face of the archenemy, like a deadly calm before the storm. She is as ruthless as she is fearless while fighting the enemies of mankind, efficiently dispatching her opponents with a dead-eyed composure that rattles even fellow Constellations. Woe be unto those who make themselves her enemies, for Odessa is a woman of absolute faith in both her sense of justice and the conviction to see that justice is done by her own hand, regardless of what their affiliation may be. [Personal History] Born amidst a terrible hurricane during the dog days of Okeanos' long summer, the howling winds and crack of lightning served as an omen for the tempestuous and stormy youth that Odessa was to lead. The child of a decorated Constellation and his beloved wife, there was little doubt that greatness would come to her in time—a notion backed up by rigorous testing when she grew old enough. With a high aptitude for the Anomaly latent in her genes and exceptional scores on her physical exams, it was a foregone conclusion that she would follow in the footsteps of her father and his father before him and become one of humanity's chosen defenders. Aptitude was not enough to guarantee her such a position of pride, however. Her line held itself to higher standards than more pragmatic families. She was brave and bold and strong and swift, yes, but also impetuous and reckless, more focused on playing at arms than refining herself in silent meditation and careful contemplation. An abundance of heat in her blood, an affinity for the exoterikós ouranós, would impede her hopes of mastering the Two Heavens which had propelled their family to prominence nearly a century before. A course correction was required. When the time came for the wild young Odessa to enroll in training for the Constellation program, she was not placed with some off-worlder who might encourage such a cataclysmic lack of balance in the pursuit of martial excellence, but instead with an older, more prudent hand: her grandsire, the so-called Old Wolf of Okeanos. A seasoned warrior and survivor of many clashes against the archenemy, Autolycus, whose true name now sprawled into the dozens, was a harsh taskmaster who had little patience for his granddaughter's foolhardiness. He had seen firsthand what tragedies such impulsiveness wrought upon the battlefield mankind found itself ever losing ground upon, much less how disastrous it could be for those who thought to command the primal forces of the heavens. Something he vowed to teach her. And something she learned. Bit by bit. Lesson by painful lesson. The fires in her never quite died out, but they did temper in time. She learned that if she was to master the world beyond her, she needed first to master the world within. Once she committed that principle to heart, once she found discipline within herself rather than outside herself, she excelled. Whatever progress might have been lost to the willful arrogance of youth was more than made up for under her grandfather's watchful eye. As she neared womanhood, and her official induction into the ranks of the lauded Constellations, her capricious nature reared itself for one final time, a parting shot to Okeanos. On the eve of her graduation, Odessa found herself with child. Whether purposeful or not, the conception of her daughter halted any hopes of quickly progressing as a Constellation. The armies of humanity had little use for a woman with a child in her belly, and the precious bloodline the child bore was too valuable to potentially sacrifice in the hopes of an expedient promotion. The traditions of her family, still but fledglings compared to the storied ranks of the Sol's most prestigious, further compounded the issue. Their focus on strong foundations barred a child from being left by both parents in the first two years of life. As Odessa refused to name her daughter's sire, she was planet-bound for the foreseeable future. Some called her feckless. Others, a coward, using her child to escape her duties. She paid them little mind. The baby, Thelema, was born after many long months of such scorn. And in holding that smallest, most innocent soul in her arms, Odessa found within herself a font of something she had lacked for much of her life. She found prudence. She found restraint. It was difficult to commit to danger and recklessness when someone so dear depended upon one. Raising her daughter for those precious few years was an eye-opening experience for a young woman who had, until that point, lived life for herself first and foremost, a woman of force and activity rather than consideration and thoughtfulness. As she watched her flesh and blood grow from a helpless infant to a bright, vibrant little girl eager to learn about the world, Odessa too learned. And in those lessons, she would find salvation when the call to war finally reached Okeanos. No longer forbidden from service as a Constellation, Odessa was gifted with the mantle of Pegasus. All the better prepared for the rigors of battle by her long rest, she remained a Stardust-class for only a few months, ascending to the rank of Proto just in time for a dire front to open in humanity's unending war against the Aberrations: the Battle of Planet Pray. Until that point, Odessa had only dealt in skirmishes and clean-up operations in the wake of more experienced Constellations. The battle for Pray did not seem like it would be much more trying than those most minor of clashes she had known. The initial days of the conflict were tame. All went as expected for a mid-level incursion into occupied human space. Then the Crownguard arrived, and her baptism in battle rapidly devolved into a baptism by fire. The arrival of a Crownguard was a disaster for the world it landed upon. It was not uncommon for a single one to overpower an entire planet in a day and lay waste to dozens of humanity's best in the process. The surface of Pray was cursed not only with one but two Crownguards only four days into its defense. Before the week was done, they had carved a bloody swathe through the valiant defenders of the world. Forty-three Constellations perished, among them three separate Supernovas—each the veteran of a hundred such battles—and the Main-class Constellation that had taken Odessa under her wing. By the end of the week, the remaining Constellations managed to finally put down one of the beasts, and send its companion fleeing for its life after one of their number struck a wounding blow against it. Without the Crownguard to support their offensive, and with the remaining Constellations buoyed by the defeat of such an incomprehensible force of nature, Pray was fully liberated before the month came to a close, though much of its surface lay in ruin. It was a victory for humanity. A Pyrrhic victory, but a victory all the same. It was also an important experience for Odessa. Her first taste of true battle. Of true fear. Of true [i]fury[/i]. Were she the same arrogant pup that came striding from the Old Wolf's den feeling all the invincibility of a young fool, she may yet have perished in that treacherous world. But thoughts of home, thoughts of her daughter, kept her disciplined when she otherwise wished to cave to instinct. Her love for Thelema kept her spirit strong when all seemed lost. Through care and experience, she learned wisdom, and through wisdom, she managed to leave the planet Pray on her own two feet and carry on to other battlefields across the domain of mankind. The years that followed went swiftly. A survivor of Pray, she quickly found herself promoted to the rank of Main-class before year's end by virtue of how ferocious the fighting had been. Years bled into years as she bounced between active front to active front, honing her skills as a warrior and a leader of men. Every time a Constellation stepped onto the surface of a world, there were no guarantees of victory, of living on to see another day. Pray had taught her that much, and much earlier than most. With her beloved daughter coming of age and beginning her tutelage under that same steely Old Wolf that had molded her into a force of nature, however, the campaign to defend Alora seemed promising. It seemed hopeful. And it seemed she would swiftly be proven wrong. Home World [Planet Description] Okeanos is as lush and verdant a world as one is likely to find outside of the ancient gardens-worlds of the Milky Way. It is so named for the massive freshwater sea that bisects the planet in two, like the fabled river for which it is named. As this ocean wraps around the length of the planet's equator, the waters are warm and rich with fauna, some of which reach truly monstrous sizes, supported by the abundance of oxygen in the atmosphere and the abundance of smaller prey. The ocean plays host to a series of archipelagos and island chains that dot its pristine waters, with two large, mountainous continents in the north and south where the majority of the population make their homes. Okeanos has a full four seasons thanks to its stable rotation, with hot summers and temperate winters separated by equally mild autumn and spring. Owing to its vast ocean and warm temperatures, Okeanos is wracked by intense storms throughout its hottest months, with some islands vanishing entirely into nation-sized hurricanes at the height of the storm season. [Culture] Okeanos, though welcoming on a surface level, is a planet of extremes. The floodplains along its coasts and larger archipelagos are fertile enough that, in combination with its rich sea, the planet's population has had little difficulty cultivating the necessary food supply to sustain itself. The seasons, barring summer, are mild and temperate enough that open-air settlements are the norm, defying the more advanced arcologies of other colonized worlds in its sector. But these things come at a cost. Summer brings with it violent storms capable of wiping out entire nation-states, and the primeval sea that produces innumerable aquatic sustenance also plays host to aggressive, monstrous mega-fauna capable of dragging the largest vessels to a watery grave. This duality has instilled a distinctive devil-may-care attitude in its populace. The world is a paradise with the potential for cruelty unimaginable. Therefore, the people reason, it is best to live well and to live boldly while one has the chance, and to seize every opportunity presented to them before the mercurial hands of fate twist the fortune against them. The relative plenty of Okeanos means that the populace needs not to trouble themselves over matters of food or energy security, giving rise to a culture of warrior-scholars the likes of which their ancient progenitors would be proud. Its government is organized into an aristocratic representative democracy, wherein members of its founding families are elected by the citizenry based on who will see to their needs the best and, increasingly, who can manage the demands of the UAS without jeopardizing their way of life. [Warrior Family] Descended from a black sheep of the Symtropantos line, the Perseid family are a relatively new arrival to Okeanos, appearing only after the defeat of Belle during the Chandra conflict of 168 IC. Having lost every comrade he had come to love throughout the war, Perseus found comfort and rest on the ocean planet's shores, charmed by the starkly optimistic views of the locals. It was on Okeanos that the experiences he had weathered—and the wisdom of the dead—that he formulated the doctrine that would go on to govern the family which would one day carry his name. Fathering a plethora of children on a dozen wives, it would only be after his death in 182 IC, and after those children rose to prominence in the fight against the Aberrations, that the Perseid line was formally acknowledged as a fledgling Warrior Family. By then, their code had been formalized. Sons and daughters of the Perseid line were to live courageously, but not recklessly. They were to act with wisdom and temperance, be just in deed and honest in word, and demonstrate a near fanatical loyalty to their comrades, not only those born of their blood but especially those born from battle. This dedication is best demonstrated by the tradition of enthýmisi, or remembrance. A pariah for his lack of ability amongst the Symtropantos, Perseus cast off his birth name and vowed to become the most shining beacon of humanity, a Constellation, without them. He managed to achieve this feat in no small part the assistance of his fellows in the rigorous training process. These comrades of his, of whom he thought the world, answered the call to bring down the Hive-Mother Belle, and he so accompanied them. Yet to his despair, all but Perseus perished, one after another, in the fight to break the Queen's Crownguard and vanquish the foul beast for the good of man. When the monster was slain, the victory all mankind felt could only be pyrrhic for Perseus. New Constellations would file in to replace his dear companions, picking up their weapons and carrying on where they left off. Crushed by the thought they might yet be forgotten, Perseus began the tradition of enthýmisi, memorializing the dead by taking their names onto his own, replacing the stain of Symtropantos with those who cherished him and were cherished in kind. This tradition is carried on by his descendants, who begin their lives bearing only the name their mothers gift them. As they live and learn, love and lose, their names grow, and every sacrifice is immortalized as part of their very identity. The oldest Perseids have names that stretch into the dozens, each a beloved friend now lost to the archenemy, each a reminder of why they fight. Perseids are therefore a proud and dependable family. They fight for their beliefs without regret, pursue their justice without pause, and defend their companions with unmatched ferocity. Their commitment to defeating the Aberrations goes beyond the simple desire for survival, but a deep and ingrained sense of duty, both to those who have been lost before them and those who will be lost long after they too have passed on. Only with the final defeat of the Hive-Mothers will their purpose, set out by Perseus himself, be fulfilled, and only then will their grim determination be halted. Notable Contacts [Name] Thelema [Relation to Subject] Daughter [Analysis] Odessa's only child and the light of her life. Thelema is a bright little girl of eight years old, and by all accounts, surpasses even her mother in potential as a Constellation. Precocious by nature, she lacks the fiery streak of Odessa's youth in favor of a curious intelligence that precedes her years. Like many from the more stable Warrior Families, Thelema idolizes her mother and great-grandfather, who serves as her primary guardian in Odessa's absence. She wishes to one day follow in their footsteps as a Constellation all her own, something that she has only just begun journeying towards as of the beginning of the year.

The Things We Fight For, A Science Fantasy Space Opera

it still hurts.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

adelaide stood there prettily.

"what is even going on right now?"

Pariah Online

daddy's home

A N D E R S
A N D E R S

^{“Our best course of action might be what's called a 'tactical withdraw'.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ 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 _________________________________________________________ True Self Charles Gaillard Persona Anders Pathos Thyrien Role Tank Weapon of Choice Spear Domains Earth, Metal; Divination, Enhancement, Protection Playstyle & Attitude Battlefield Controller; Pragmatist ♬

C H A R L E S G A I L L A R D : A L L T H A T G L I T T E R S C H A R L E S G A I L L A R D : A L L T H A T G L I T T E R S ________________________________________________________________________________________ Affluence. Privilege. Prestige. These words describe much of the life Charles Gaillard has led. While he was not born into the ultra-wealthy, Charles' parents skirted the margins just enough to ensure their son would never want for anything, be it material things or, as he grew from boy to man, opportunities to climb ever higher on the social ladder and secure a position even higher than their own. A natural extrovert and keen study, it was all but assured that Charles' schooling was an easy affair. He passed through his secondary schooling at the top of his class. When it came time for higher education, familial connections assured him a place in the Ivy League. As connections spawned connections and his magnetic personality won him fast friends during his raucous college years, a degree in business and finance transitioned him to a cushy position at a prestigious New York firm. And so life turned and turned. Financially secure and content in the business of making money off of other's money, Charles' life played out like so many others. He tomcatted around for a while, met that special someone, tied the knot, and bought a house out in Queens. Their marriage proved fruitful, and three beautiful children followed. It was familiar. Comfortable. It was boring. For those so deprived, a lifestyle of conspicuous consumption seemed luxurious beyond measure. But for Charles, a lifetime of so easily achieving one's desires did little to quell his desires. So he found a thrill in other things. Alcohol, women, and the occasional illicit substance. Evermore he found himself at home less and less, focusing more on his career than his family. His excuses grew lamer and lamer. Eventually, his wife stopped asking what was on his breath, or where that glitter came from. Eventually, he stopped bothering to make up the stories. It was familiar. Comfortable. Until it wasn't. Three days after his youngest set off for Upstate, she served him in the papers. It hurt, at first. Then it hurt even more when he realized how much it hurt. It was easy to become bored with routine. With the constants in life. To take them for granted and push them from one's mind in search of something new and exciting. But all too often, only after it is too late, does one realize just how necessary they are. That was a lesson even Columbia failed to teach him. The divorce went as smoothly as could be expected, after twenty years of marriage. And in the absence of his wife and children, Charles fell back into bad habits. But substance abuse, he knew, was a young man's game. So in place of the bottle, he searched for other frontiers to occupy his mind. Virtual reality was a strange one, especially for an old hound like himself, but it was cheaper than pills. Pariah Online swiftly became a refuge to escape a reality that, for the first time in a long time, ceased to readily welcome him. A N D E R S : T H E W A L L W H I C H S T I N G S A N D E R S : T H E W A L L W H I C H S T I N G S ________________________________________________________________________________________ Anders has been playing Pariah Online since day one of its launch—as he pre-ordered it a few days after the lawyers finalized his divorce—and so considers himself something of an old hand, even if the game is relatively new. A smooth-talking wisecracker, he proves to be an amiable and entertaining partner, though popular as he may be with random party members, he's made only a few concrete bonds in the game. Instead, he fancies himself a wanderer, moving from place to place and helping out wherever newer players need it. His experience in dealing with more difficult raids and tendency to enable more reckless DPS players assures that he has little difficulty sliding in and out of parties. The game serves as an outlet for Anders' less appealing qualities. It allows him to seek the thrills that keep him titillated in a risk-averse way, carefully weighing the pros and cons of every engagement with the assurance even a mistake ultimately costs little more than a few minutes of wasted time. His focus on crowd-controlling and directing the flow of fights allows him to maintain a sense of control over the situations he finds himself in. An appealing prospect, given what awaits him when the headset is set aside. Perhaps most importantly, though he would be hard-pressed to admit it, it gives him a chance to prove he can be what he was not for his family. A positive influence. A protector. To prove he can be there when he is needed.

---

Spells & Spell-like Abilities

Ready in Eight Directions
_{Divination + Enhancement}

A keystone of his defensive play, Anders rears back and assumes a wide stance with his weapon, enhancing both his senses and his reflexes in the process. Ready in Eight Directions allows him to enter an almost meditative flow state, immediately lashing out to intercept, parry, or otherwise deflect any attacks or enemies who enter into his reach with startling speed and precision, effectively turning him into a roadblock of flashing steel capable of warding off a great many enemies.

Thunderclap Rush
_Enhancement

Empowering the muscles of his legs, Anders moves in a direct line so swiftly as to almost appear instantaneous. He uses it to intercept or engage with enemies, or reposition himself while maintaining Ready in Eight Directions, as the rapidity of the movement allows his concentration to go unbroken. So named for the signature cracking noise caused by his displacement.

Liquid Steel Flow
_{Enhancement + Metal}

One of Anders' more underhanded, but doubtlessly effective tactics. Liquid Steel Flow allows him to alter the properties of his spear on the fly. Most commonly, he uses it to alter the length of his weapon, either shortening or extending its reach to best fit the situation he finds himself in. A favorite of his involves changing his weapon's range mid-strike, allowing him to keep his opponents constantly off-guard.

The Earth Flows
_Earth

A strictly utilitarian form of magic, The Earth Flows allows Anders to shape the terrain around him to better suit his purposes. Whether it's creating higher elevations to attack from, creating a quicksand pit beneath an opponent to throw them off balance, or hurling an ally out of the way using a sudden bulge from the ground, it has proven an essential tool to disrupting his enemies.

Immortal Blade Triumphant
_{Enhancement + Protection}

One of the only truly offensive tools in Anders' arsenal, Immortal Blade Triumphant can broadly be broken down into two parts. The first part is the actual spell itself: a ward placed upon the head of his weapon that sits dormant until such a time as his weapon collides with something. Whether it be an enemy's blow, their flesh, or even magical projectiles, his spear absorbs a small portion of the impact, storing away the force throughout the battle. The second part of the spell makes use of that stored power, allowing Anders to release it to empower his counterattack. Usually released in bursts by way of explosively empowered thrusts, Anders is also capable of venting all the stored energy at once, hurling the weapon at an opponent to avoid the resulting detonation.

Character Feats

Close Quarters Technician

Anders' is a masterful practitioner of defensive fighting, his style of battle akin to that of an out-boxer. His sense of timing and spacing are incredibly precise, and he leverages his reach and speed to counteract his opponent's attacks and corral them into favorable positions at spear-point, either shutting down their offensive potential or helping keep them off his less robust allies.

Long Haul Combatant

With his strategy being one of attrition rather than speed, Anders possesses a deep reserve of stamina and a living knowledge of how to best leverage it using patience and efficiency of movement. He is nearly impossible to exhaust and thrives in extended battles where an opponent might burn through their resources before he does his, whittling them down by a thousand cuts before they can land a telling blow to defeat him in kind.

Acute Awareness

Part of being a controller means having a sharp sense of the battlefield and the ability to keep track of multiple things at once with precision. Anders excels in this field. His spatial awareness and prodigious reflexes allow him to swiftly react to things mid-combat, whether it be allies losing their coordination or enemies launching unexpected attacks, and correct them before they manage to spell disaster, thereby dictating the flow of battle.

By Any Means

An inherent danger that is thoroughly hidden beneath his friendly, devil-may-care attitude, Anders is a ruthless pragmatist. He has little qualms in using underhanded or dishonest tactics to get an advantage over his enemies, whether it's extending his spear through them amidst a gesture of surrender, or using his earth magic to throw loosened soil into their eyes. History, he reasons, is decided by the victors, and he has no intention of letting his side be forgotten by it.

Silver-Tongued Devil

A skill born from a lifetime of experience and natural charisma, Anders is a smooth-talking man. Easy-going and sanguine, he is easy to like and difficult to dissuade when he decides to work his magic, carefully swaying others to his point of mind with rhetoric so carefully disguised as casual banter that few have the skill—or natural distrust—to see through it as a matter of course.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Adelaide von Hresvelg

_{Interacting with: Everybody & Nobody | Location: Garreg Mach Monastery - Classroom}

---

In truth, Fódlan is experiencing an instability that hasn't been seen in centuries.

There was something profoundly amusing, hearing those words leave the lips of a ranking official of the Church. As if every single soul that shared the room did not already understand that. Her beloved Adrestia suffered worse of all, that much was true, but in the face of such calamity, the inhabitants of Fódlan's other so-called nations bickered and battled with themselves over the scraps of land that they had stolen from her ancestors. The Church was a profound force for good, that much was true, but it could only do so much to unify. There were those lords who paid only lip service to the Goddess, pursuing their selfish ambitions to the exclusion of the common good. Even worse, there were those within the Church itself who sought to stymie progress with their idealism. Adelaide considered Lysander Roland one of the latter category.

Surely, it was the kinder category for one to belong. But it was still an unacceptable stance. A weakness. Fódlan did not need friendship, for the reaching across borders and ideology to try and form a cohesive whole. That way led only to conflict of opinions, compromise, and fragile bonds that were ever only one generation, one falling out from shattering. What Fódlan needed was a firm, guiding hand. One leader, with one vision, and one purpose. There was a purity in such an arrangement. That much could be proven by the very foundation of Adrestia, blessed by Seiros in the name of the Goddess. Anything less was a corruption of that divine inspiration.

It was with such thoughts swirling about her mind that Adelaide watched—with an almost predatory interest in her eyes—each and every one of her would-be classmates stood and declared their names and titles. It was an eclectic mix of individuals, to say the least. Some were quite bold, like her fellow house leaders, while others seemed so nervous as to make her wonder whether their lordly fathers had instilled any leadership skills in them, to begin with. She cataloged each name, face, and personality away as the introductions seemed to ripple through the seats until, eventually, the flow reached her humble little perch nearer the back of the room. Without hesitation, she gingerly pressed her seat backward, sliding out of it and standing for all to see.

"Good day, esteemed classmates. My name is Adelaide von Hresvelg, Crown Princess to the Adrestian Empire, and inheritor of Saint Seiros' own Crest. It is an honor and a privilege to make your acquaintance, and I am eager to serve as a representative of not only House Hresvelg, but Adrestia as a whole."

The confidence that seemed to ooze from her very pores came easy with the statement, and Adelaide offered a polite bow of her head as she introduced herself, continuing once she had risen back to standing.

"My interests are multitude; I am as fond of swordplay as I am song, as interested in strategy as I am dance. The one thing I cannot stand, however, are those too meek to seize their destinies. Such uncertainty is beneath those of our station."