Drifting Pollen

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Anne Mayer

Special Economic Zone — Planet Daian

Off her guard and unaware, Anne didn't notice the bomb until it was already too late. The explosion caught her dead-on and flung her across the room, hard enough that she cratered the reinforced concrete as she crashed back-first into the nearest wall.

This made it... Three. Three times people had tried to kill her since she'd landed on this planet. She was meant to be here as a mediator, a neutral party helping to end a military uprising before it could begin. Instead, it seemed like many of the would-be rebels had trained their sights directly on her.

Anne Mayer. The woman who'd murdered Leah Zail, and effectively shattered the entire Northern Order in doing so. There were people who wanted her dead for political reasons, to light a fire in the remnants of the Northern forces—and others who were just out for revenge, who truly loathed her for what she had done. Thinking back on that scene, the way the severed head of her onetime friend had rolled across the ground... Anne couldn't help but feel much the same.

Even so, she couldn't fall here. Not while she was still able to fight.

With gritted teeth, she stumbled back to her feet, pain racing up her spine from where she'd made impact. The initial blast had taken out the barrier on her coat, and her ears still rang from the noise, her balance dangerously off-kilter. Through the clouds of dust she could make out voices, the shadows of armored figures now sweeping the area for any signs of her presence.

Should she hide? Fight back? She wasn't sure if her body could hold up in the latter case, especially if the enemy had Knights among them. Escape seemed like the best option: get out of the building, lose her pursuers, and rendezvous with Aegis before they figured out where she'd gone. The bombing couldn't have gone unnoticed, and her allies on the Alcyone would already be on their way by now.

She drew in a breath, took a step forward, and barely stopped herself from doubling over as a fresh wave of agony shot through her legs and stomach. Her vision blurred, and in her moment of vulnerability she almost missed the telltale ripple of a sonic boom, the cyborg soldier accelerating full-force towards her.

Almost.

She caught him reflexively, grabbing hold of his extended arm before she fully realized what she was doing. Her throw slammed him headfirst into the wall at the exact center point of her previous impact, and drove him into and through where the structure was at its weakest. Concrete shattered, the wall crumbled inward, and her aggressor was left stunned and half-buried under a mound of rubble and twisted rebar.

There would be more coming. Without pause, Anne forced herself to clamber up and over the wreckage, doing her best to ignore the tortured screams of her body telling her to just give up and die already. Bullets whizzed past her, and she ignored them—there really wasn't much she could do about them at the moment. And if one of the rounds were to hit her, well, she couldn't say that she didn't completely deserve it.

Through the wall. She could see the sky up above, now, the clouds of smog, the small aircraft zipping by. Urgency pushed her forward through the pain, towards the nearest alley, anything she could use as cover. She threw a glance over her shoulder to check for pursuers, and in doing so stumbled straight into the trap.

There was no pain as the white light washed over her. Only a sense of relief, like a vast weight was finally lifting from her shoulders. She'd fought all she could, but death had finally caught up with with her, an ignominious end for the woman once hailed as a savior of humanity.

Her last thoughts were of the ones she was leaving behind, and the burdens she had placed upon them all. Amy, Leo, Yung. I'm sorry...

---

Unknown Region — Unidentified Planet

Cool air blew across her skin. Her eyes cracked open, and all at once the weight came crashing back, her body now aching head-to-toe.

Still alive, then. She swallowed the bile that was rising up her throat, and tried to focus, to get a sense of her surroundings. She must have been picked up in the aftermath and carried off somewhere to recover, but... Where? And by whom?

This wasn't the Alcyone. Nor did it resemble any kind of modern hospital or treatment facility. If anything, the structure reminded her of a church, though it was in a state of such disrepair that it had to have been bombed at some point. Not a surprising sight, for someone who'd spent half her life in one battered warzone or another.

What really caught Anne's attention were the people. A gathering of colorful strangers, each one entirely out of place in the crumbling ruins they now found themselves.

A green-haired girl in a fanciful blue-and-white dress, waving around some kind of narrow rod. Three children, accompanied by someone suited up in damaged power armor. Two young men with the look of Knights about them, one displaying some kind of Paranormal Power. And then a bright green... Machine?

Nearly all of them were speaking, and most of it came through as nonsense to the veteran Knight's ears. She recognized a general air of confusion, questions accompanied by bewildered looks that matched her own feelings on the situation. The stout woman in the hat stood out to her the most, the one who referred to herself as Knight Witch. Anne's expression stayed carefully neutral, but she quietly tensed up at those two words, the implied threat in them. To call herself that... Could she be a Knight from the Vista family? Or, given her appearance, the Rata clan?

Both of those groups had every reason in the world to hate Anne Mayer. For that matter, any of these people might try to murder her on sight the moment they recognized her. And she was hurt, exhausted, not in any state to fend off an entire group of enemy Knights.

Rather than join in the chatter, she backed away, and found a shadowed spot to slump against the wall. Drenched in sweat, still breathing heavily, she squinted at the scene and tried to make sense of it all, to find any thread of logic in her surroundings. Someone was firing arrows at the outside of the church, and her first thought was that it was children, playing some kind of innocent game with toy bows. Why else would anyone use projectiles that slow, and so obviously fragile?

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Space knight

• Name: Anne Mayer
• Gender: Female
• Appearance:
  
  "Let me move today, even if I die tomorrow."

  
  
  Anne has gone through a variety of different outfits, physiques, and even prosthetic limbs over her years as a Knight. Only two aspects remain ever unchanging: her long, straight brown hair and distinctive green irises. Her manifestation in this new world most closely reflects her appearance during the Third Battle of Arin: a slim figure, eyeglasses, and a long black coat.
• Personality: A jaded veteran with a kind heart. Years of harsh experience have left her with a cynical worldview, a paranoid outlook, and mountains of guilt and self-loathing. In the thick of war and politics she becomes grim, snarky, and quick to complain, but in a peaceful setting she'll quickly show her warm side. Though often clumsy and awkward in more casual situations, her deep-rooted ideals and sincere love for the people around her end up shining through.
  When she's put under pressure, this same love for humanity can extend to a point of obsessiveness and self-destruction. She sees lives as her responsibility, their protection a necessity, and is ultimately willing to sacrifice both herself and those around her to save the innocent masses. Haunted by her past failures and sins in the name of the greater good, she makes repeated attempts to stay out of front-line conflicts, but finds herself drawn again and again into high-stakes situations where bloodshed and loss become inevitable.
• Brief History: A Knight from the Cosmic Century, a far-future era in which the human race is embroiled in a war with the alien Beasts. Anne was one of two orphans taken in by a member of the Knight Order, and trained in martial arts and swordsmanship from a very young age before applying as a recruit for the Order in her late teens. After she and her adoptive sister graduated to full knighthood in record time, Anne would go on to distinguish herself again and again in some of the most ferocious battlefields of the age, and helped save humanity no less than three times by personally cutting down key leaders on the opposing side. Early on she carried the reputation of a legendary hero, but as the politics surrounding her exploits became gradually murkier, she would first fall into obscurity and later be branded a war criminal for her actions.
  In between stints battling for the fate of the galaxy, Anne spent years cultivating an extensive web of political connections, and formed her own organization dedicated to anti-Beast research and engineering. She also trained several disciples, some of whom would go on to become illustrious Knights in their own right.
• Universe of Origin: Knight Run
• Equipment:
  
  • DC Coat: The uniforms worn by Knights project defensive barrier fields around them, shielding their users from enemy attacks and environmental hazards. It's even possible for the wearer to fight unimpeded in the vacuum of space.
  • AB Sword x2: The Anti-Barrier swords used by Knights are extremely durable, and possess the innate ability to negate enemy shields and barriers. There are only a thousand or so of these weapons in existence, and Anne is one of a rare few individuals granted permission to wield two at once.
  • Artificial Arm: Anne's left hand is entirely cybernetic, and has been custom-built with multiple mechanisms to assist her in combat. Of note: a shield-busting device to punch through barriers, a limited-use energy blade she can pull out as a spare weapon, and powerful jet boosters used for additional bursts of acceleration.
• Abilities:
  
  • Master Knight: Anne's abnormal genetic makeup has been supplemented by a lifetime of training and battlefield experience, pushing her physical limits well beyond normal human bounds. She's actually quite frail by Knight standards, but that still makes her strong and fast enough to surpass enhanced cyborg supersoldiers and massive powered armor suits. On the flipside, she's accumulated tremendous injuries over time, and using her full strength for more than a few minutes at a time can result in a painful and crippling backlash.
  • Pray Style: As a swordswoman, Anne is one of the most skilled Knights in the entire galaxy. She makes use of an extremely aggressive martial arts form built to push the body past its limits and completely overwhelm the opponent, developed under the tutelage of her adoptive sister Pray and six of the age's most renowned fighters. Anne's mastery of Pray Style has allowed her to hold her own against enemies many times stronger, faster, and more numerous than herself, even while heavily injured and without her usual equipment. Executed correctly, her techniques can both mitigate and inflict damage beyond what should be logically possible under the circumstances.
  • Wave Techniques: Many Pray Style techniques make use of Waves, concentrated bursts of Ki capable of propagating outside of the body. Waves can not only inflict devastating physical harm on contact, but can be used to break through or cleave apart the manifestations of supernatural abilities, including other Waves. As a preeminent Wave user, Anne can imbue them into her weapons and strikes, enhance her physical abilities with Waves, reduce damage to her body, or even launch Waves directly as long-ranged energy attacks.
• Other: She's in her early thirties and feels bad about it. Due to her prior injuries, she sometimes gets random nosebleeds or just throws up on people. Most of her body has been replaced or upgraded at some point or another.

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Space knight

• Name: Anne Mayer
• Gender: Female
• Appearance:
  
  "Let me move today, even if I die tomorrow."

  
  
  Anne has gone through a variety of different outfits, physiques, and even prosthetic limbs over her years as a Knight. Only two aspects remain ever unchanging: her long, straight brown hair and distinctive green irises. Her manifestation in this new world most closely reflects her appearance during the Third Battle of Arin: a slim figure, eyeglasses, and a long black coat.
• Personality: A jaded veteran with a kind heart. Years of harsh experience have left her with a cynical worldview, a paranoid outlook, and mountains of guilt and self-loathing. In the thick of war and politics she becomes grim, snarky, and quick to complain, but in a peaceful setting she'll quickly show her warm side. Though often clumsy and awkward in more casual situations, her deep-rooted ideals and sincere love for the people around her end up shining through.
  When she's put under pressure, this same love for humanity can extend to a point of obsessiveness and self-destruction. She sees lives as her responsibility, their protection a necessity, and is ultimately willing to sacrifice both herself and those around her to save the innocent masses. Haunted by her past failures and sins in the name of the greater good, she makes repeated attempts to stay out of front-line conflicts, but finds herself drawn again and again into high-stakes situations where bloodshed and loss become inevitable.
• Brief History: A Knight from the Cosmic Century, a far-future era in which the human race is embroiled in a war with the alien Beasts. Anne was one of two orphans taken in by a member of the Knight Order, and trained in martial arts and swordsmanship from a very young age before applying as a recruit for the Order in her late teens. After she and her adoptive sister graduated to full knighthood in record time, Anne would go on to distinguish herself again and again in some of the most ferocious battlefields of the age, and helped save humanity no less than three times by personally cutting down key leaders on the opposing side. Early on she carried the reputation of a legendary hero, but as the politics surrounding her exploits became gradually murkier, she would first fall into obscurity and later be branded a war criminal for her actions.
  In between stints battling for the fate of the galaxy, Anne spent years cultivating an extensive web of political connections, and formed her own organization dedicated to anti-Beast research and engineering. She also trained several disciples, some of whom would go on to become illustrious Knights in their own right.
• Universe of Origin: Knight Run
• Equipment:
  
  • DC Coat: The uniforms worn by Knights project defensive barrier fields around them, shielding their users from enemy attacks and environmental hazards. It's even possible for the wearer to fight unimpeded in the vacuum of space.
  • AB Sword x2: The Anti-Barrier swords used by Knights are extremely durable, and possess the innate ability to negate enemy shields and barriers. There are only a thousand or so of these weapons in existence, and Anne is one of a rare few individuals granted permission to wield two at once.
• Abilities:
  
  • Master Knight: Anne's abnormal genetic makeup has been supplemented by a lifetime of training and battlefield experience, pushing her physical limits well beyond normal human bounds. She's actually quite frail by Knight standards, but that still makes her strong and fast enough to surpass enhanced cyborg supersoldiers and massive powered armor suits. On the flipside, she's accumulated tremendous injuries over time, and using her full strength for more than a few minutes at a time can result in a painful and crippling backlash.
  • Pray Style: As a swordswoman, Anne is one of the most skilled Knights in the entire galaxy. She makes use of an extremely aggressive martial arts form built to push the body past its limits and completely overwhelm the opponent, developed under the tutelage of her adoptive sister Pray and six of the age's most renowned fighters. Anne's mastery of Pray Style has allowed her to hold her own against enemies many times stronger, faster, and more numerous than herself, even while heavily injured and without her usual equipment. Executed correctly, her techniques can both mitigate and inflict damage beyond what should be logically possible under the circumstances.
  • Wave Techniques: Many Pray Style techniques make use of Waves, concentrated bursts of Ki capable of propagating outside of the body. Waves can not only inflict devastating physical harm on contact, but can be used to break through or cleave apart the manifestations of supernatural abilities, including other Waves. As a preeminent Wave user, Anne can imbue them into her weapons and strikes, enhance her physical abilities with Waves, reduce damage to her body, or even launch Waves directly as long-ranged energy attacks.
• Other: She's in her early thirties and feels bad about it. Due to her prior injuries, she sometimes gets random nosebleeds or just throws up on people. Her left hand is entirely cybernetic, and most of her body has been replaced or upgraded at some point or another.

An Open Challenge

Tiamat flew away, fast and far, and fled the scene of battle.

An Open Challenge

"Ha!"

The dragon bared her fangs, her forked tongue taunting him through their deadly points. "The mightiest of the ants, challenging the heavens themselves! And he thinks himself eternal!" A fresh bout of laughter shivered through her, and she had to raise one set of claws to hide her vicious grin. "Oh dear, little one. I haven't heard such comedy in centuries..."

Her biting words slithered through a storm of oncoming blows, pricking at the griffin's fluffy ears. Archontikos had taken no significant damage from her claws, and other than a faint tingling sensation in his arm, there was little to stop him from launching his brutal retaliation. Those wings of his were veritable siege weapons, and their barrage would have pulverized even the thickest of castle walls—but Tiamat was a leaf on the wind, and against such a simple assault she was all but untouchable. Strike after strike ripped through the empty air beneath her, and her stinging claws snipped and sliced at the lashing wings, punishing every attempt to bring her down.

Once again, positioning was key. She'd launched her previous attack from above, and the impact had cost Archontikos just a few feet of altitude. Not an insurmountable obstacle, but here was the thing: every action produced an equal and opposite reaction, and the same impact that knocked the griffin down had pushed Tiamat upward, the recoil of her own blow giving her a burst of extra lift to gain distance. Her opponent had begun his counterattack without bothering to close the distance first, and though his sizeable wingspan gave him sizeable reach, Tiamat had only been gliding up to this point. As the beast unleashed his first mighty strike, her own wings beat down, and she darted up still higher, so that her body passed beyond the maximum range of his blow.

It was the flying equivalent of footwork, the kickboxer's agile backstep adapted for use in aerial combat. Any oversized bird could use its wings as weapons, but Tiamat had honed them into the primary tools of a full-blown airborne martial art, one that many a former foe had learned to fear and respect.

More quick wingbeats kept her clear of the initial follow-up strikes, but the dragon knew better than to wait for her enemy to change targets. The griffin's remaining four wings might have sufficed to keep him aloft, but in this moment his lift was nonetheless reduced, and it couldn't be easy to stay balanced in the air while constantly throwing out one's wings like that. Tiamat had used her wings as bludgeons many times in the past, and it only took her a couple of seconds to figure out the timing, and spot her opportunity. An upward strike, a missed blow... And before the next could arrive, her own wings snapped closed. Without any remaining lift, the dragon dropped like a stone.

And this, too, was a part of her art.

In the air, gravity became yet another weapon, another tool to use in outmaneuvering one's enemy. Archontikos had just thrown up a wing to try and strike at her, and that wing had yet to fully draw itself back into position after the blow. Before it could, Tiamat came down on it like a fucking guillotine, leading with a brutal axe kick powered by the full gravity-assisted weight of her falling body. The raw force of it absolutely dwarfed her skimming slash from before, and no amount of toughened hide was going to keep that from leaving a bruise.

...But that wasn't the point, or not entirely. The fact was, in using two of his wings to attack, Archontikos had sacrificed a degree of balance and stability. And while his physical toughness could reduce damage, it didn't prevent transfer of velocity, meaning it wouldn't keep him from being knocked out of the sky and sent hurtling towards the ground in an uncontrolled spin.

@Griffintaur

An Open Challenge

The scaled woman's horned head tilted just slightly on hearing his growled insults. "I am Tiamat, you little bug. Mother of life, and first goddess of the primordial sea. That you are graced with my gaze at all is far more than you deserve."

Her knees bent, and she spread her arms wide. Each of her fingertips bore a great curved talon, as long as a carving knife and wickedly sharp. A mere flick of her wrist would have sufficed to slice an ordinary man into a half-dozen pieces, but in this case that would evidently not be enough. She beckoned, instead, egging on the beast as he rose up and drew level with her. "Much better. You may be uncouth for a meal, but at the very least..."

A stream of fire erupted in her direction, and she sprang up off her perch. "...You have the good grace to come to me already well-cooked!"

The stone where she'd stood less than a second before was promptly blasted into molten slag, but the dragon was already beyond the reach of the flames. Her wings snapped open, and she threw her weight forwards, plunging headfirst towards her prey. The blazing river rose to follow her, but she bobbed up a little further with every inch it adjusted, always flying just barely out of its reach. She did not beat her wings, nor attempt to desperately maneuver, but merely glided along the full length of the attack with an almost effortless grace. The searing, vaporizing fire of the phoenix might as well have been a bright orange carpet laid out to welcome her arrival.

Was it magic? One of her six godly powers? Hardly! This was only the natural result of the attack itself, and Tiamat's own mastery of flight. Any mass of fire so formidably large and hot created waves of heated, expanding air around it, which naturally rose upward due to the resulting loss of density. It was this air that Tiamat was gliding on, catching the upward flow with her extended wings and letting it buoy her just above the raging inferno as it moved to follow her. In this way she rode the flames straight to Archontikos, their crackle and roar mingling with the sound of her mocking laughter.

Perhaps the lion would realize his mistake and stop the torrent, but by then it would already be too late. Tiamat had altitude, she had momentum, and her agility in the air was such that a mere tilt of her wings brought her swooping upward just a fraction of a second before collision. As she flashed past above her prey, her left leg whipped downwards, a full set of talons extended to rake across the back of his uppermost right wing.

@Griffintaur

An Open Challenge

It arrived in the form of a shadow, a winged silhouette passing in front of the sun so high up above that for a moment, the entire arena was cast into darkness.

A circling vulture, perhaps? No, there was no bird alive with wings like that. Bony, chiropteran, like great webbed hands extending to grasp the sky itself. Any denizen of any fantastical universe ought to recognize the wings of a dragon, and know enough to cower in fear at the sight of them. When their shadow fell upon you, chances were it was already too late.

The wings folded, and the distant shape dove downwards in a spiraling arc towards the half-buried Colosseum. Sunlight glinted off bright crimson scales, the red hunter swooping in to eye up its latest prey. After circling one final time, it slowed to a gentle glide and alighted delicately atop the highest point of the arena ruins, where it stood up straight and cocked its head at the tender morsel sat down below upon the sandy floor.

"Oh good, you're already kneeling. I do prefer mortals with some semblance of self-awareness."

Not quite a dragon, as it turned out. She certainly had the wings of one, and the nigh-impenetrable red scales, but up close her form was almost fully humanoid, a slender and feminine shape clad in nothing but her own reptilian hide. Her delicate features and soft black hair were more elven than draconic, and her voice brought to mind a beautiful siren luring sailors to their deaths in the open sea. Bright, inquisitive golden eyes fixed themselves upon the feline champion, and the hunter's lips curled into a gentle smile.

"I hunger, beast-man. You may be thankful that it is so. Slit open your throat, and I will do you the honor of taking your flesh as my sustenance."

@Griffintaur

Looking for a battle

I apologize for the absence. Doing this on mobile gives me no notifications. But here you go, one of my more physical characters

@GiovanniCarter

Alright! He seems pretty fun. How about this for an opponent?

Lyra Gwynn

Name: Lyra Gwynn
Age: Around 60 years
Height: 5'7''
Weight: 125 lbs
Race: Shroudwalker

Appearance:
Lyra looks much younger than she really is: she was twenty-two years old when she died, and her body has stayed that way ever since she returned to life. She has a slim and bony build, with jet-black hair that extends down to her shoulders and eerie yellow eyes. Her skin is a darkened gray that blends perfectly into shadows, making her almost invisible in low-light conditions.
For clothing, she favors a sharp black coat with long tails, and a pair of well-ironed formal trousers. She does not wear shoes.

Weapons and items:
- The Shroud: Lyra is bound to a floating mass of dark particles, a living cloud of unnatural smog that follows her wherever she goes. In more casual settings it will lie hidden in her shadow, compressed and passive, but in combat she deploys it in full force, and it can grow large enough to fill a small house. The Shroud has been intertwined with Lyra’s very soul since her first resurrection, and she can manipulate the size, shape, and position of the cloud as though it were part of her body, giving her excellent fine control over its form and density.
Other than being movable, the Shroud possesses three dangerous properties. The first is that it absorbs and stores light and sound waves, including frequencies such as ultrasound or X-rays that would normally be invisible to the human eye. This renders it perfectly black to outside observers, and masks any noise passing through it. Light and sound it absorbs can be gathered and later redeployed offensively, as wide bursts or tightly concentrated beams.
Secondly, it relays sensory information directly to Lyra’s neurons, beginning with the patterns of light and sound coming into contact with its outer edges. It also keeps her aware of its contours, allowing her to effectively 'feel' anything in contact with the cloud. The Shroud differentiates between her own thoughts and those born of other powers, obeying only those that are truly hers, and she can use it to detect foreign incursions into her mind.
Last but not least, the Shroud will resist any and all movement within itself not initiated by Lyra or her abilities. Its minuscule particles originate from a far-flung universe devoid of all life, and their presence in other planes of reality will bend physics around them slightly, slowing down other matter and energy passing through areas where the particles are gathered. This effect works more powerfully against faster movements: walking through the Shroud is merely uncomfortable, running through it is like pushing against a wall of molasses, and bullets or anything similarly fast will face resistance strong enough to slow them to a crawl. The more spread-out the Shroud is, however, the less powerful the slowing effect becomes, and tight concentrations are required to fully exploit this property.

Abilities:
- Physical parameters and training: Even before she died, Lyra was considered an exceptionally talented warrior. While her strength and endurance are better than one would expect from a person her size, it’s in speed and mobility that she truly excels. She can outrun the fastest of beasts, react quickly enough to avoid gunfire, and traverse even the most dangerous and chaotic terrain with impeccable balance and poise. Her skill with the spear is the stuff of legend, and she’s also known to wield daggers and shortswords in close combat, fighting with an inhuman precision that has only grown sharper since her resurrection.

- Shroudwalker physiology: The Shroud has infested her unliving body, changing her once-human form into something strange and unsettling. Though she still moves and talks and thinks the way a living person would, most of her biological functions have simply stopped: she no longer breathes, eats, or consumes any known form of chemical energy. Medical examination reveals that even her brain and nerves are electrically inert, though evidently some form of information transfer is still going on. Some otherworldly power seems to animate her now, preserving her from all forms of aging and decay while enabling thought and motion. It seems to be tied to the Shroud itself, which permeates her entire form and has infused itself within her lungs and bloodstream.
Notably, Lyra can synthesize Shroud particles within her body into a solid form, extruding them as pitch-black spines of varying thickness and length. While Lyra can wield these without issue, they don’t seem to be fully affected by external sources of kinetic energy, requiring exceptional amounts of force to damage or knock aside.

- Cryopsionics: Psionic abilities have long been known to manifest in various individuals across the many universes, and during her human life Lyra was one such person. While her powers did carry over after death, however, they were irrevocably altered by the manner of her resurrection: her mind is no longer the lively thing it once was, and only barely feels what could be described as human emotions. Due to her psychic nature, this emptiness manifests itself in the physical world as well, with her very presence dropping the surrounding temperature by several degrees. By exerting her will, Lyra can shape and focus this effect, bleeding thermal energy from select areas and sapping the drive and resolve of sentient beings. The closer she is to her target, and the more narrow her focus, the faster the resulting drain occurs. Lyra can channel these psychic attacks through her Shroud spines while wielding them, which sharply raises their potency.
Like many psychics, she possesses a form of telekinesis, which exclusively affects matter frozen in crystalline form (such as ice and snow). While this specialization restricts her in some ways, it also grants her firmer and more precise control, and allows her to spread her influence like a virus. Once she's seized control of a fragment of ice, Lyra can shatter it at will to flash-freeze an area up to four times its width in radius, and gains control over any new ice created. The larger the shattered ice fragment, the colder the resulting freeze.

Backstory

Lyra's earliest memories are of hard times, of dust and dirt and exile. Her people were forced out of their ancestral homelands several years before her birth, whole cities laid to waste when an ancient and powerful dragon decided to seize their mountainous nation as its territory. Faced with the wrath of a monster no mortal could challenge, the indigenous population was left with no choice but to flee. Even as they left their lands behind, however, they vowed to one day win them back.

From a young age, Lyra and her fellow children were trained in the arts of war and magic. Their elders told them stories of their homeland, instilling within them a burning will to defeat their common enemy and return to the life of old. Year by year, they trained relentlessly, eventually leaving their parents behind to travel the world and seek new skills and powers to help them succeed.

Lyra had never been particularly talented with conventional magic, so she sought out an order of psychics, and learned to channel her mental strength as a means of attack and defense. She wasn't satisfied with this, however, and ventured further still, seeking dangerous and forbidden secrets well beyond what others would dare. She traveled further than any before her, through burning deserts and dense jungles, across steep mountain ranges and into dark ravines teeming with hidden predators. She saw landscapes that dwarfed anything she'd ever dreamed of, and came to know of peoples and creatures whose vibrant diversity fascinated her, but still she wandered further, always fixed on her goal.

In the end she sought out a rumor, a ghost. Whispers of an abomination from another universe, a being that warped existence around it wherever it appeared. She walked out across a frozen sea, to the distant point where it was said this being sometimes passed through her world.

To this day, Lyra had never told anyone what she found there. What is known is that she came back with the Shroud.

There was no more need for training or exploration. She made her way back to her people’s homeland, and, rather than waiting for her old comrades to gather their forces, walked straight into the dragon's domain and challenged it alone. It was barely even a fight, for the beast soon tore through her defenses and snapped her up with its massive jaws, swallowing her in a single gulp.

It went exactly as she'd intended. Out there on the icy sea far away from all trace of civilization, Lyra had made a deal with the devil: she'd give up her mortal life, and receive in exchange a rebirth, a physical resurrection via a permanent joining with the Shroud. Thus, trapped within the corrosive, poisonous interior of the dragon's stomach, the fragile human quickly died—and then woke up, gathered her strength, and tore the beast apart from the inside, slaughtering it as one-sidedly as it had done to her.
As soon as the news reached her people, they rejoiced. Scattered families flooded back to reclaim their lost cities, and the many would-be dragonslayers arrived to find their life’s greatest battle already won. Lyra herself was honored and celebrated, showered in gifts and offered the title of High Queen.

For Lyra, however, something had irrevocably changed. She had returned from death with all her intelligence and skills intact, moving and speaking just like a living person… But she’d left something behind, as well. Her kindness. Her empathy. Her intensity of feeling. When she looked at her people now, she saw only scurrying creatures of flesh and bone, puppets to their own primitive instincts and desires. They might as well have been ants, for all that they mattered to her now.

So she spurned the glories offered to her, and left her homeland behind. The Shroud whispered to her of far-off worlds, entire different universes filled with people and creatures she could scarcely have imagined before. There was a great game afoot, with entire planes of existence hanging in the balance, and now that Lyra had achieved her personal goal, it was time for her to uphold her own end of the deal.

To serve as harbinger, and bring about the end of all things.

If you think she'll do, then feel free to pick a battleground for us and/or post up a fight thread. If not, then just let me know and I can check my roster for someone higher- or lower-powered.

Looking for a battle

Hello yes I enjoy the violence also

Much like yourself, I'm comfortable fighting with just about any level of powers, so pick one or slap down a character sheet and I'll see what I can offer.

Why We Fight - An Underground Fight Club RP

Hello yes can I sign up for the ass-kicking please