AtomicNut

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

I thought it was only 12, then Anno decided to make it just a bit more monster-of-the-week-esque by adding another 5. 28?! I need sources!

@Cassowarysaur

wiki.evageeks.org/Neon_Genesis_Evange…

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

Really looking forward to get this roleplay underway, especially excited to see any new Angels. :D

Even if nobody else signs up for this, having a smaller group will make things easier to manage and probably stop people dropping off the face of the Earth (I promise it won't be me).

@Cassowarysaur

'pparently the original idea had 28 Angels.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

Three Sisters

(with @Ezekiel)

Whatever the Three Sisters 'were' famous for, it certainly wasn't architecture. The small tarven that Jace found himself in, some distance from Sisterton on the isle of Sweetsister, was little more than an elongated hut, the strawed flood badly need changing, and by the smell of some of the locals, they probably did as well. That said, he was finding the whole experience rather fun.

Of course, it was hard to approach an island incognito while riding a dragon, but Vermax was not yet so vast as to be picked out in foul sea weather, and so it had been simple enough to land in the sea-swell that often engulfed the three sisters, some distance from prying eyes, then making their way to the nearest place that provided both shelter and sustenance.

So now, Prince Jace, so far unrecognised, sat, his new Northern companion close by, with a tankard of ale and a rather large bowl of 'Sister's Stew' a white soup made from a variety of sea-food. Whatever it was, it beat trail rations, and with good company, life on the road, or, wing, as it was, proved not so bad.

Arsa Snow poked carefully her stew with a spoon, inspecting the ingredients as she looked at the flecks of steam that rose from it. Unlike Jace, she never had any need of not going unrecognized. Nobody besides Winterfell and a few Northerners knew of her existence. Her small stature and hunting clothes, also contributed to her modest travelling look, perhaps only broken by the existence of her bow, but nonetheless, they probably would never expected she had been on Dragonback all the way from Winterfell. She had become intoxicated with the views. For hours and hours, with none of the usual warging problems she had to face to pay for such views.

"Hmm, looks tasty." She grabbed a spoonful in her mouth. And then another one, as she ate greedily. "Salty, but pretty tasty, boss." She added as she looked at Jace. "Ideal after a journey."

"Mhm, certainly beats dried beef." He smiled at the Northern girl as he too began to eat away at his soup, washing it down with the odd gulp of ale. "It may not be a Winterfell feast, but hopefully less people will be doused in wine." He smirked. The Stew contained a hearty amount of sea-food, and it was quickly doing much to ease the hunger-pangs of earnest travel. He hoped Vermax had found similarly enjoyable prey.

"Recovered from flying yet? It can take some getting used to."

"I'm fine. I am used to it." Arsa replied, almost absent with the warm stew making wonders in her stomach. She quickly realized her folly, though, as she switched words soon afterwards. "I mean, I am getting used to it quickly." She chastised herself for her slip of the word. This was not Winterfell, already. She could not avoid making even the slightless offhand remark that the peculariarities of the blood of the First Men could sometimes bring in people of certain lineages, like Stark or Reed. Besides, while eager and adventurous, even a Prince...would probably frown at the mystic skills she had been blessed with.

The Prince raised an eyebrow at that, while it was true it had been her second flight upon dragonback, that would hardly be enough time to grow used to it. It struck him as yet another wild boast from the Northern girl, something he'd seen was something of a trend. He chuckled slightly; "As you say. I, however, enjoy resting my legs from the saddle." He smirked before taking another gulp of ale. Looking around the tavern, it seemed to have started to fill out slightly, as the night grew later. "Should be interesting." He murmered.

Arsa eyed the Prince. "Islander antics seem interesting to you?" She said lowering her voice as she smirked."Living in the Red Keep must be much more stressing than Winterfell, surely, moreso when you have a reputation to uphold in your name." The teenager said coyly as she swiped Jacaerys' ale and took a sip on her own. "Your legs must be really cold, aren't they, boss?" She said as she squirmed once more to sit in his lap. "Maybe this can help."

"It's certainly a relief to be out here for a while.." He managed before she both stole his drink, and placed herself upon him, a slight mock-frown turning into a laugh the next moment. "Not one to complain, but I certainly won't fault your effort." He smirked, an arm wrapping around the Northener.

"Better already."

"Well, boss." Arsa said as she snuggled to share some body warmth. "I can share that feeling with you. To be fair, Winterfell was kinda choking me a little aswell. Cregan, bless his soul, he tries his best for everyone, but he is too overbearing at times. Like a wolf parent tending his pups." She paused. "I am surprised though, I was hoping to spend quite a long time in my room for my spat with him. How did you manage to get me released?" She put a finger in her chin, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, simple really." Jace chuckled at the memory, and at the thought of sharing it with her. "I told him a Southern court might be able to teach you some manners." His eyes were full of mischief as he taunted her, all the while holding her tight to him.

"Southern lady manners, huh." Arsa said, as she looked at Jace, and without warning, pushed her aware with mock insult. "M'lord, what are you doing! It is improper!" She jested as she returned to her seat. "I know the manners, I just do not see the point of employing it them for the time being." She paused. "This isn't a court, as you know. Personally, I find more useful in these circumstances the fact I can hit targets at a hundred of paces. How many ladies in your court can claim to do that?" She added, finishing her soup.

Her sudden 'outburst' only made the Prince laugh further, but drew a few odd looks from around the room. A lord, of any bearing, was rare among the isolated rural folk, outside of Sisterton and other such places of importance upon the isles. Still, Jace merely carried on.

"Hmm, my cousins, for one, the pair of them no doubt. But no many others, I'll grant you that, aye, a little more useful, here and on the road." He nodded, before speaking again; "Mayhaps you do know, but your brother seemed not to think so." He chuckled.

"My brother is in a difficult position. I doubt he would make a fuss out of our little spat if it was in private, but I got myself carried away in public. He simply settled it in a way he does not have to hit me once more." She paused. "Plus, I do think I know he wants me as guarantee of blood, since he cannot offer young Rickon." She paused for a second."And not many opportunities for a bastard to rise and do well." She added, her voice lowered. "Even mistress is seen as a good chance by some. I am sure brother even pondered that much." She added, playing with her spoon.

"In the Capital, noble bastards tend to be given postings around the city, I think half the Goldcloaks are bastards by lords." Jace mused, before turning more serious in his response to Arsa; "You're not here to be a Misstress, truly, I offered your brother an opporunity to solve the situation, I would not want to make you feel trapped by it."

"No, you are right." Arsa added. "But I would not mind." She answered back. "Not with a man who has shown me the wonders of this world on dragonback, at any time." She giggled, as she smiled back at Jacaerys. "Speaking of which." She paused, something clicked in her mind. "Is there something wrong with your...mount?" She asked. "She seems... a bit spaced out as of late." She added, having perceived a certain lack of focus in the beast's eyes during the flights.

Jace pondered that for a long moment; "Not that I could think of, maladies that is, Vermax is reaching the age where she might lay a clutch, that could be something do with it. My mother used to say Syrax was slower to respond before she was to lay eggs." The young Prince mused allowed, still holding her to him.

Arsa let herself lulled by the prince, until something in her mind clicked. "We're in deep trouble...boss." She said, the blood draining quickly from her face. "If your mount has the same roosting instinct as large predator birds, we are in a pickle. She might not even respond to your orders and might attack anything near enough." She said, almost in a hushed whisper. "We must take her somewhere else, before its too late."

"Dragons are not the same as birds." Jace laughed a little at the thought, before stopping himself mid thought; "Although they can become more...hostile, to those they are not used, best to keep her in the wilds until this is resolved." The Prince mused, whispering back; "You should be careful around her, dragons are hardly tame." He grinned, a little fire in his words.

"More careful than the one who knew she could roost anytime yet chose to travel? That is not a high bar, boss." Arsa replied before disengaging from the prince. "Besides people would want to grab those eggs for their own ends." She added, a noticeable frown across her factions.

"Eggs are a lot less valuable for those who are not born of my blood." Jace responded before she pulled away, still speaking at a whisper, before she was too far to hear. "Baubels, nothing more." He continued, before his eyes were drawn away by some commotion. A pair of men arguing over a serving wench, it was not long before the men were throwing punches at each other. "I think I prefer Winterfell."

"Still, I do not think it would be safe. What if they end up in those who are borne of your blood... but are not on your side?" Arsa leant forward one last time, before eyeing the two drunkyards."We should find a safe place for that, but Wintefell is the one i know the most." She paused as she eyed the prince.

"To fly back to Winterfell would take almost as much time as the whole journey back to Dragonstone, we could find isolation on these Isles, or in the Mountains" He replied, the Vale was only a few league South of the Sisters after all.

"Then we shall have to take good care of her, and them." He mused, stroking his chin, watching his companion, and the increasingly rowdy room.

"Boss, do you want to join in the fight? If not,we should go now." Arsa added looking at the bar brawl in the making. She bit her lip. Leaving a clutch unatended. It could be tricky. She did not know truly how strong a dragon's attachment would be to roosting, nor she did not know even if her skills would work on a draconic creature. "I really hope she is not the type to be overly protective and picky."

"Hmm, no, best we make our exit." He responded quietly, ducking to narrowly avoid the first thrown mug of cheap ale. The tavern was quickly descending into the usual chaos, although the Prince was well versed in agility, albeit for a very different cause.

"If you would care to accompany me." He offered her a hand and a quick smirk, before they were off, dodging through angry, violent and drunk sistermen, and extra few coins thrown one of the servant's ways for their trouble.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

Val

Black Val
Also known as Valerion Waters(he hates his birthname)

Black Val is rather tall, and his build betrays a training not of armor and weapons, but of entertaining and acrobatics, posessing a thin yet compact bodyframe that he adorns with fine leather and cloth. He usually has a predominace of the color black, like a fine cloak, overshirt,boots and gloves, but he has enough elements to be distinctive from the Night's Watch on purpose like a white undershirt and white breeches. Despite being in his thirtieth day of the name, he looks no older than twenty, and his face is regal and handsome. He has deep blue eyes, and a dark mop of (dyed) hair that goes past the nape of his neck. (If one were to see him without the dye, one would realize his eyes are actually a shade or purple and he shows the characteristic silver-golden of Valyrian blood). His voice is also equally striking, a calid yet versatile baritone. He is often seen with a masterfully crafted lute on his back, as well as several knives on his belts to perform tricks.

House:The Blacks- Actually Corlys Velaryon

Personality:
Black Val is often considered a pathetic spineless manchild, whose only aims is to earn some coin with his remarkable talent for singing, acrobatics and knife tossing. Quick and easy to befriend with mead and coin, the bard is generous with his tales and company, and he rarely fails to deliver when entertaining. Past the surface of drunken antics and entertainament, Val is a master of misdirection and empty talking, and his honeyed words have allowed him to take more than one maidenhead. He is also well-read and cultured, a must for any artist who likes to spin tales. He usually keeps his true thoughts and insight to himself, and few are the things that can knock off his mask. One is his inconditional love for his daughter, the twelve year old Al(ysanne). The other is mentioning his true name (which he rarely reveals), reminding him of his inheritage. Being the child of a dim Targayen princess and a wandering singer tends to do that.

bio
Val was born as Valerion Waters, the child of the ill-fated Gael Targayen, the Winter Child of the Old King Jaeherys I. Whilst it was said that Gael had died from a summer fever, the truth is that she had drowned herself in the Blackwater Rush after being seduced by a travelling singer and upon being with child, abandoned. A little known fact is that while Gael, somewhat of a lackwit, had enough restraint to not kill her child with her, and gave him in adoption to a travelling troupe of artists, naming him Valerion, in honor of one of her brothers. Much to their chagrin, Valerion, or Val as he was known among his surrogate parents, had inherited the keen intellect of his grandparents rather than his mothers, and the young lad soon took a liking to the world of music and entertainament. At first, he tried acrobatics and knife throwing, but once his voice settled after he grew into a man, he tried his hand and skill at the lute and singing. Turns out, he was pretty good at it, and he believed he had found his true calling. However, in the middle of his self study of history and books in order to create new stories to captivate nobles and smallfolk alike, he understood who he was, and where he did came from. The revelation broke Val, and he never decided to claim his inheritage, for it had cause a princess to die and one of the most beloved queens of Westeros to die, sealing the fate of the Old King. Instead, Val begun to dye his hair, and he begun to call himself Black Val as he started to strike out on his own after he parted amicable with his caretakers. Not only because the Blackwater Rush had been the area he usually tavelled, but also to signify the taint he believed he carried. He began to act like a careless fool, preoccupied only in the next coin, drink or kiss. He did not make plans for his life, nor to fulfill a life to begin with. Despite his hedonism, he cursed his existence with passion.

Everything changed when a Lyseni prostitute in King's Landing bore him a golden-silver haired child, to whom she named Alysanne. There was little doubt the child was his, for she had been kicked out of the whorehouse not a day after Val had seduced her to give him a free service. Val did not find this until the third nameday of the creature, where her mother, sick and emaciated, met again with Val by mere chance in King's Landing, not relenting until Val gave her every bit of hard earning coin and valuables as compensation, only to have the three year old creature dumped on him without ceremony.

Val could not abandon the child. As craven and miserable he was, he still was not his father, and decided to take the hit in stride and start a new life, this time with a young daughter on his footsteps. Reinventing his spectacle into a troupe of varieties, he exploited his bottom of the barrel status to recruit a cadre of outcasts and freaks. A couple of Dwarves. A Dornish bearded lady. Trunk, a deformed giant of a man barely capable of speaking and an Ibbense with pale flesh and white hair, that the mere contact of the sunlight burnt his flesh like if it was a hot iron. Among this lot, he tried to earn his coin and give his daughter the best education he could afford. Things seemed to be working, for a time. Alysanne revealed soon she had a certain skill with flute and acrobatics, and often would find herself helping his father in his performances by performing dances or performing in a duet.

Things were once again working well, until a pirate attack while travelling to High Tide for a special performance changed plans quickly. The pirates were savage and brutal, and took no small pleasure in torturing Val's companions before his eyes. Trunk was tied to the anchor. They used the dwarves as target practice, tied the Ibbense to the Crow's nest and watched him writhe and burn in the midday sun. But the worst fate was the one suffered by the Dornish. After shaving her beard... they used her. Repeated times. Val put no small amount of effort trying to convince he and his daughter, whom he usually disguised as son during his travels, were actually worthless.

The Sea Snake's timing avoided further any tragedy. And deep down, Valerion knew he had contracted a life debt with the man, as he and his crew rescued both of them from the pirate's clutches.

Al

Al
Also known as Alysanne

At first glance, one can confound Al for a pretty scruffy, pale faced boy with feminine features and deep blue(or purple) eyes which show world-weariness and melancholy. Not having fully blossomed yet at her twelfth day of her name, Alyssane usually hides her striking appearance (which is the spitting image of her Grandmother, Gael Targaryen) under boyish brown clothes and a large cap which contains all of her cascading silver-golden long hair in check. If the situation requires it, she wears a fine white silk dress in her performance, as well as brass bracelets and necklace. She is usually seen with a flute aswell. Alysanne rarely, if ever talks, but when she choses to, she does so in a sweet small voice.

House:Blacks,Duh.

Personality:
Alysanne is a withdrawn and jaded person. For what little life experience she has, she has seen a lot of things. Sometimes beatiful, but more than often harsh. She barely even remembers being abandoned by her mother onto her father, and wandering the world ever since. Wise beyond her years, she finds solace in every new thing she can learn, and more than often, finds the more hedonistic traits of his father apalling. A kind soul, his exposure to people of the most diverse condition and form has imbued her with insight that goes beyond appearance. Still, she is fairly attached to her father, faults and all. She does also not mind dressing as a boy, and even sees the utility beyond that at times. She likes basking in the sun of the afternoon and reading or playing the flute.

bio

Alysanne was born from the spureous union of her mother, a lyseni prostitute, and Black Val, a bard of certain renown. She barely remembers her childhood with her mother, but what little she remembers is that her mother always treated her like an incovenience rather than a boon, eventually dumping her in the hands of his father. At the least, he tried to give his best, and he spared no effort in singing and straining his fingers and voice for one more coin into the troupe's funds and into her education. While she did not dislike the arts and crafts, she took up the flute and the acrobatics out of filial piety rather than anything else, and felt like she had to lessen the strain of his burden. Never, however, she felt unwanted again, and she had grown to see the strange companions of his father as the siblings and relatives she never had. She however, was never aware of her regal connection, just that her valyrian looks were almost as striking as the looks of the other members, albeit for a very different reason.

When the troupe met their tragic ends at the hands of the pirates, something cut deep into Alysanne's soul. Her small and rarely heard voice become ever so more silent, and she still mourns their passing in silence, to not make her remaining family member worried sick.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

@MrDidact is partly at fault for this.

Val

Black Val
Also known as Valerion Waters(he hates his birthname)

Black Val is rather tall, and his build betrays a training not of armor and weapons, but of entertaining and acrobatics, posessing a thin yet compact bodyframe that he adorns with fine leather and cloth. He usually has a predominace of the color black, like a fine cloak, overshirt,boots and gloves, but he has enough elements to be distinctive from the Night's Watch on purpose like a white undershirt and white breeches. Despite being in his thirtieth day of the name, he looks no older than twenty, and his face is regal and handsome. He has deep blue eyes, and a dark mop of (dyed) hair that goes past the nape of his neck. (If one were to see him without the dye, one would realize his eyes are actually a shade or purple and he shows the characteristic silver-golden of Valyrian blood). His voice is also equally striking, a calid yet versatile baritone. He is often seen with a masterfully crafted lute on his back, as well as several knives on his belts to perform tricks.

House:The Blacks- Actually Corlys Velaryon

Personality:
Black Val is often considered a pathetic spineless manchild, whose only aims is to earn some coin with his remarkable talent for singing, acrobatics and knife tossing. Quick and easy to befriend with mead and coin, the bard is generous with his tales and company, and he rarely fails to deliver when entertaining. Past the surface of drunken antics and entertainament, Val is a master of misdirection and empty talking, and his honeyed words have allowed him to take more than one maidenhead. He is also well-read and cultured, a must for any artist who likes to spin tales. He usually keeps his true thoughts and insight to himself, and few are the things that can knock off his mask. One is his inconditional love for his daughter, the twelve year old Al(ysanne). The other is mentioning his true name (which he rarely reveals), reminding him of his inheritage. Being the child of a dim Targayen princess and a wandering singer tends to do that.

bio
Val was born as Valerion Waters, the child of the ill-fated Gael Targayen, the Winter Child of the Old King Jaeherys I. Whilst it was said that Gael had died from a summer fever, the truth is that she had drowned herself in the Blackwater Rush after being seduced by a travelling singer and upon being with child, abandoned. A little known fact is that while Gael, somewhat of a lackwit, had enough restraint to not kill her child with her, and gave him in adoption to a travelling troupe of artists, naming him Valerion, in honor of one of her brothers. Much to their chagrin, Valerion, or Val as he was known among his surrogate parents, had inherited the keen intellect of his grandparents rather than his mothers, and the young lad soon took a liking to the world of music and entertainament. At first, he tried acrobatics and knife throwing, but once his voice settled after he grew into a man, he tried his hand and skill at the lute and singing. Turns out, he was pretty good at it, and he believed he had found his true calling. However, in the middle of his self study of history and books in order to create new stories to captivate nobles and smallfolk alike, he understood who he was, and where he did came from. The revelation broke Val, and he never decided to claim his inheritage, for it had cause a princess to die and one of the most beloved queens of Westeros to die, sealing the fate of the Old King. Instead, Val begun to dye his hair, and he begun to call himself Black Val as he started to strike out on his own after he parted amicable with his caretakers. Not only because the Blackwater Rush had been the area he usually tavelled, but also to signify the taint he believed he carried. He began to act like a careless fool, preoccupied only in the next coin, drink or kiss. He did not make plans for his life, nor to fulfill a life to begin with. Despite his hedonism, he cursed his existence with passion.

Everything changed when a Lyseni prostitute in King's Landing bore him a golden-silver haired child, to whom she named Alysanne. There was little doubt the child was his, for she had been kicked out of the whorehouse not a day after Val had seduced her to give him a free service. Val did not find this until the third nameday of the creature, where her mother, sick and emaciated, met again with Val by mere chance in King's Landing, not relenting until Val gave her every bit of hard earning coin and valuables as compensation, only to have the three year old creature dumped on him without ceremony.

Val could not abandon the child. As craven and miserable he was, he still was not his father, and decided to take the hit in stride and start a new life, this time with a young daughter on his footsteps. Reinventing his spectacle into a troupe of varieties, he exploited his bottom of the barrel status to recruit a cadre of outcasts and freaks. A couple of Dwarves. A Dornish bearded lady. Trunk, a deformed giant of a man barely capable of speaking and an Ibbense with pale flesh and white hair, that the mere contact of the sunlight burnt his flesh like if it was a hot iron. Among this lot, he tried to earn his coin and give his daughter the best education he could afford. Things seemed to be working, for a time. Alysanne revealed soon she had a certain skill with flute and acrobatics, and often would find herself helping his father in his performances by performing dances or performing in a duet.

Things were once again working well, until a pirate attack while travelling to High Tide for a special performance changed plans quickly. The pirates were savage and brutal, and took no small pleasure in torturing Val's companions before his eyes. Trunk was tied to the anchor. They used the dwarves as target practice, tied the Ibbense to the Crow's nest and watched him writhe and burn in the midday sun. But the worst fate was the one suffered by the Dornish. After shaving her beard... they used her. Repeated times. Val put no small amount of effort trying to convince he and his daughter, whom he usually disguised as son during his travels, were actually worthless.

The Sea Snake's timing avoided further any tragedy. And deep down, Valerion knew he had contracted a life debt with the man, as he and his crew rescued both of them from the pirate's clutches.

Al

Al
Also known as Alysanne

At first glance, one can confound Al for a pretty scruffy, pale faced boy with feminine features and deep blue(or purple) eyes which show world-weariness and melancholy. Not having fully blossomed yet at her twelfth day of her name, Alyssane usually hides her striking appearance (which is the spitting image of her Grandmother, Gael Targaryen) under boyish brown clothes and a large cap which contains all of her cascading silver-golden long hair in check. If the situation requires it, she wears a fine white silk dress in her performance, as well as brass bracelets and necklace. She is usually seen with a flute aswell. Alysanne rarely, if ever talks, but when she choses to, she does so in a sweet small voice.

House:Blacks,Duh.

Personality:
Alysanne is a withdrawn and jaded person. For what little life experience she has, she has seen a lot of things. Sometimes beatiful, but more than often harsh. She barely even remembers being abandoned by her mother onto her father, and wandering the world ever since. Wise beyond her years, she finds solace in every new thing she can learn, and more than often, finds the more hedonistic traits of his father apalling. A kind soul, his exposure to people of the most diverse condition and form has imbued her with insight that goes beyond appearance. Still, she is fairly attached to her father, faults and all. She does also not mind dressing as a boy, and even sees the utility beyond that at times. She likes basking in the sun of the afternoon and reading or playing the flute.

bio

Alysanne was born from the spureous union of her mother, a lyseni prostitute, and Black Val, a bard of certain renown. She barely remembers her childhood with her mother, but what little she remembers is that her mother always treated her like an incovenience rather than a boon, eventually dumping her in the hands of his father. At the least, he tried to give his best, and he spared no effort in singing and straining his fingers and voice for one more coin into the troupe's funds and into her education. While she did not dislike the arts and crafts, she took up the flute and the acrobatics out of filial piety rather than anything else, and felt like she had to lessen the strain of his burden. Never, however, she felt unwanted again, and she had grown to see the strange companions of his father as the siblings and relatives she never had. She however, was never aware of her regal connection, just that her valyrian looks were almost as striking as the looks of the other members, albeit for a very different reason.

When the troupe met their tragic ends at the hands of the pirates, something cut deep into Alysanne's soul. Her small and rarely heard voice become ever so more silent, and she still mourns their passing in silence, to not make her remaining family member worried sick.

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

Weekend.Maybe. I will leave it to wait if someone else wants to join.

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

@Cassowarysaur Okay, after some deliberation, I will accept this character, even if it makes it three bois with significant overlap. I have several conditions, though.

• Please. Pretty please. Do not write anything so baroque again. I had to read the whole thing a grand total of 4 times before making any sense.
• You mention perfection and inhuman intelligence. If you use that as excuse to bullshit through everything, I will have your character eat Misato's cooking. All the time. Perception is fine, but all pilots are going to perform roughly the same for the sake of fun and balance.
• He still is not a successful pilot of Unit-02. He merely has just become the pilot of Unit-02. So, technically he did not succeed at piloting. Yet.
• Make it be a female character I know it will be fun.

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

@Lmpkio



Please cease this behaviour immediately.

(OOC I really mean it. It is weirding me out.)

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

@Holy Grail Approved. Glad to know there is a female besides Rei.

@Cassowarysaur Hmm... I will need to think over this one a bit more carefully. Stay tuned.

[RoE]Shin Seiki Evangelion : א -The Remix of Evangelion (Dead RP)(18+)

Four. Can slot five if need be.