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8 mos ago
Current Brand new roleplay up! If you haven’t already checked it out, check out The Worn over in Advanced Interest Checks.
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A new roleplay is born. Follow the tale . . .

A new chronicle begins . . . Follow along


My name is icmasticc , but you can call me icc


I am a

Gamer | Writer | Technophile


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With their gazes intently deadlocked and the grin never leaving his face, Gabriel peered directly into the olive green of Lilith's eyes.

"Good to know ya."

And then he pulled the trigger.

Click... Clack.

The duo were surrounded in an instant. Six figures emerged from the shadows of the inner depths of the woods behind them and each brandished a long-gun or handgun of some sort. They were all dressed in brown jackets and either black or beige khakis, some with thigh straps and holsters and others with large hunting knives secured to pistol belts. All of them wore black masks that only covered their faces with a collection of straps that contoured around the back of their heads and met somewhere near their crowns. The masks were completely devoid of anything on the outside save for angrily arched eye lenses that, though black in color, were obviously tinted so each person could easily see what they needed to. Every barrel held steady on Gabriel and Lilith on the ground though the group wisely kept some distance between them and their targets--smart, almost as if learned or trained behavior. Gabriel's finger had only managed to pull the trigger halfway before the unknown mob pounced and his gaze had long since broken with this previous attacker in order to keep eyes on the new, obviously more dangerous threat. He narrowed his eyes.

"Well, shit," he flatly stated, "And here I thought karma was no longer a fucking thing."

One of the figures, a taller, slightly bulkier one with a single-barrel shotgun, took two steps forward. He was directly in front of Gabriel which put him to Lilith's rear considering her prior advantageous position. "Now this is a shock," a raspy voice grumbled, "I didn't think we'd catch two of'em at the same time."

Another figure, clearly feminine in stature and shape, spoke up. "I just wanted the goods, but you all always have to push for just a little more. We got lucky they got into it with each other, but we can't keep relying on luck. This has to be the last time, at least for a few months."

"A few months?!" Another lighter, younger male voice exclaimed. His grip on the hunting rifle he held was a little shaky, but he never took his eyes and barrel off the angel and demon. "Fuck that! We took a goddamn break after the last time and now how long's it been since the last job, huh?? We keep takin' fucking breaks, people're gonna quit hirin' us, shit!"

The female sighed and shook her head. The bulky man stepped closer to the two on the ground and motioned upwards with his shotgun. "Get the hell up. You're both coming with us. There's someone who's gonna wanna meet ya. And don't fuckin' try anything stupid. Even if you take me down, the rest of my group will mow you down before you even get the chance to look their way. And remember, it's not like your kind is immune to good ol' fashioned bullets anymore."
Ha, nice post. Seems like an escalation of things is in order lol. I'm at work at the moment, but I'll provide a post tonight if I can manage it. I have an owed post for someone else as well. I should be able to knock out both though.

EDIT - Got my post half-written and sitting in a tab on my browser. I was falling asleep, but I'll be able to finish when I get home from work today.
@Kote

It's all good man, I just want people to be able to do what they want lol.
@Kote

Just to say, there's no reason why you can't have the same character concept. We don't have to have a properly filled out RPG party or anything. The story will serve the cast regardless of if we have two healers or whatever the case may be. Of course, there's nothing wrong with balance either if that's what you truly want to do.
Posted! You're next post should be grand lol.
The sky was a solemn mix of grey hues and shades, though the mere threat of rain remained only that--a threat. Gabriel sniffed the air as he gazed up at the gathering of clouds. He couldn't remember the last time it had rained. The heft of the handgun in the back of his jean waistband brought the now calmer man back to reality. There was no point in reminiscing now. Not after so much had transpired and so much time had already passed. Besides, there was no true home anymore, just a safe place to rest and resupply for the moment. That's what this life was now--rest and resupply. Thoughts drifted back to the contents of his backpack and Gabriel decided now would be as good a time as any to check the quality of the items.

Supply missions were usually easy enough. The area around settlements was constantly being mapped and updated by dedicated teams of scouts if the community had any worth whatsoever so the hunters always knew exactly what was around and where they could begin there search for good supplies. Once you were given the okay to actually hit the location, it was just a matter of following the map and being cautious of any bandits or strangers the scouts may have forgotten to take care of or missed in their recon operations. Once at the site, a skilled hunter would check the perimeter at least once or twice more; the difference between life and death these days pretty much depended on patience and preparation. After entry, the objective was always to get in and get out as quick as possible, but with as many quality supplies as possible. You never wanted to be in one place too long just in case other communities had sent their own hunters to the same area. And of course, one always had to be wary of nomands--the people who lived on their own and claimed no community at all. Once supplies were acquired however, the most important thing was to ensure the quality of said items. A good hunter couldn't just grab whatever looked useful, they had to make sure whatever they got wasn't rotting or falling apart.

Gabriel had almost forgotten this golden rule as he set his pack down and took one last look around the area. The meadow was a fairly open expanse punctuated by tree lines on the left and right. The hunter favored this route because even if he, himself, was open to danger, any enemy he encountered would be in the same predicament. At the same time, however, he always made sure he erred more towards the right side of the meadow so he could disappear into the tree line should he need to make a quick escape. He knelt down near the trunk of a rather tall tree and unzipped the dirtied and beaten backpack. His haul would be impressive to the rest of the hunters back at the settlement, but he kept his excitement quelled until he could verify the quality of everything. So, he started with the food.

Echoes of the bound man's pleas from the log cabin reverberated in Gabriel's head. As he check expiration dates, he couldn't keep his mind from going back to the scene in the living room and the exchange he had. A person looking from the outside in might have perceived the situation the only way it probably could have been perceived. In truth however, there was a little more to the story. Gabriel's mission had been clear from the beginning; he was supposed to go search for supplies from a promising log cabin the scouts had stumbled on after missing it during their initial mapping. Since everyone knew Gabriel hated hunting in teams, the modest size of the cabin meant that a one-person job was not out of the realm of possibility. At first, the hunter refused the job for personal reasons until he realized the possibility of a certain other communities' hunters being there. In the end, Gabriel only accepted the job in the hopes of meeting the man he would later kill.

After ten minutes, the stock was accounted for. There had only been three cans of rotten food and one bottle of expired medicine--the medicine would be kept regardless, however. Packing everything back up, Gabriel slung the bag over his shoulders and continued with long strides towards the settlement. It was only a moment later that he felt a sharp, blunt impact to his ribs and the sensation of falling towards the tree line. Before he could properly react, the assailant was on top of the man, knife to the collar bone and wicked grin on her face--her face. "Looks like you know who I am, but I'm at a loss here," Gabriel replied, reciprocating his own sly grin, "Seems kind of rude to shoot a woman without knowing her name, ya know?" Though he was pinned to the trunk of a tree, the hunter had been able to quickly--instinctively--pull the handgun from his back during the fall and now had the barrel pressed into the kidney of his unknown attacker--a good old fashioned standoff.
Well, what an exchange. Glad to see it's settled though (Of course, I always miss it initially 'cause I gotta sleep). For my part, I'll say that I echo Rockette's sentiment on the lone aspect of availability. Considering my own situations, I know exactly how it feels to need to disappear for a long while with little explanation, but I'd also appreciate it if those who take part in this recognize the importance of not just staying around if you decide to commit, but communicating thoroughly. We're switching from a rather large group to a smaller, more tight-knit kind of experience and the steadiness of player participation is one of the goals we hope to achieve with that switch. That's pretty much all I have to say on the matter though as Rockette hit on these subjects and more pretty well.

With all that said, hope to see everyone involved enjoy themselves and enjoy their characters. Our combined efforts will create an awesome experience.

EDIT - My second character is up, just to let everyone know.
I may tweak Amentia. I don't know. Should I?


I'm doubling up and introducing another character myself, so. This is a good chance to tweak to your heart's content.

Corbyn Vesper

Thirty | 29 / May | Six - Foot - One | Commander

A P P E A R A N C E.
Assertive in poise and stature, the rigid posture of Corbyn Vesper is unmistakable. Proportioned and symmetrical to an exact degree, his physicality exudes discipline and efforts of constant maintenance. A purposeful choice leaves the body at a medium build and avoids the kind of bulky muscle usually associated with those of the combative occupation. Various scars scatter amongst caramel skin, hard with age and silent reminders of stories no longer told. Ebony hair is kept short due to preference, never regulation, while facial hair is consistently groomed, but never shaved off. Though the light brown of his eyes glisten in the sunlight, it is the look they convey that makes them striking. His stare is built from years of uncertain futures with the smallest glimmer of hope hidden in the ulterior. Tattoos and jewelry have neither place nor meaning for the somewhat young commander and his general out of uniform attire is composed of comfort clothing versus fashionable outerwear.


P S Y C H E.
For one to have achieved the rank of Commander, the persona attributed to Corbyn Vesper is surprisingly contrary to average expectation. In spite of his leadership role within SOLDIER, he is best described as socially comfortable, yet mentally reserved. His outgoing nature allows for easy communication with all manner of individual with a certain level of familiarity, but those exterior appearances are not all natural. In truth, trust is not easily gained or easily kept with the man and he regularly holds the slightest bit of distrust for all those he associates with. This rather paranoid nature does not stem from malice, rather a specific belief that one should never underestimate what another is capable of - especially in the present times. Why this manifests as distrust rather than caution, however, is a flawed trait in Corbyn's mentality and sometimes causes his external behavior to appear standoffish in the eyes of others.

On the other side of this coin though, strong bonds of loyalty can be formed when one proves to be trustworthy and, or, capable. Corbyn is not so flawed that he severs bonds as they form and it is his own opinion that this kind of loyalty should be treated as a reward and not just given out to any and everybody who appears to be nice.

In the matters of The Fayth, the commander is a firm non-believer. Chastising others for their beliefs comes in opposition of his own morality, but a convert he will never become. Combined with his inner fear and confusion surrounding the Aeon entities, Corbyn really only believes in himself and whatever he is capable of accomplishing. The disregard for The Fayth sits alongside a similar distaste for politics. Being SOLDIER damns one to some involvement with political affairs, no matter how small, but the commander takes up an active role in avoiding the fiery subject as much as possible. Whatever other issues exists, his main problem with The Fayth and politics is both are bridges to his third, and most hated, subject of all; the Aeons.


B A C K G R O U N D.
The small isle of Ivalice exists to the east of Baanga and though they function independently with their own government council, the nation is officially an annexed territory of the much larger country to the west - and the birthplace of Corbyn Vesper. The Vesper family was a name that commanded power and influence during its heyday. Both father and mother of Corbyn were well known for their wealth, but more so for their extremely charismatic and persuasive personalities. Father began his career small as part of a simple law firm, but soon found his true calling in corporate investment and money lending between big industry business. Mother started as a corporate accountant,
but also left her original line of work to accept a position as head of one of the largest banks in Ivalice. The duo quickly accrued wealth and important associations that opened doors and connections in all crevices of the business and political world. At the apex of their success, the twosome cemented their legacy; a son was born who would be groomed to eventually take over one of the family businesses.

As the child of two effective CEOs, Corbyn's life was managed and planned from the very beginning. Every action and move he was made to take in life was meticulously calculated so as to have the most positive effect possible and push the boy in the correct direction. Private tutors and nannies were a normalcy from the time the young boy could walk and understand his surroundings and it was no strange sight to see the four-year old studying rather than playing with others or creating any sort of childhood memories. Corbyn faithfully followed the rigid routine laid out in front of him for many years until he finally reached high school age.

At this point, he was fully aware of all the kinds of events he had missed and, after much bargaining and negotiating as he was taught to do, he somehow convinced his parents to allow him to finally attend public high school using the reasoning that knowledge of the general world outside of private schools and tutors who do him more good than being sheltered until adulthood. Corbyn's high school life, much to his disappointment, was anything but normal. The Vesper name was too well known and he was forced to suffer false friendships, subordinate teachers, and all those who hoped and prayed for just a small loan from a kid who had never even been employed. Even knowing what he was in for, Corbyn still fell victim to more ulterior motives than he wanted to admit. He knew there was only one thing he could do to not only forge his own path, but finally get out from under the weight of the name Vesper.

Upon graduation, Corbyn announced that he was shirking college in order to pursue service with the Imperial Guard of Ivalice. The one thing both his celebrity parents hated together was the military. Though they understood its necessity, they always saw the organization and its members as beneath them and too dangerous to risk everything for. They put up heavy resistance after their son's announcement and even went as far as threatening to cut him off should he go through with his plans. With his mind made up and his resolve hardened however, Corbyn defied his parent's wishes and enlisted with the Guard. He was disowned fully within the same year.

During his years with the guard, the newly freed Vesper boy still found himself hanging on to the Vesper ways. His desire to excel outweighed everything else and his anger when he failed was hotter and more fiery than most. He took every opportunity to go the extra mile and volunteered for every voluntary position he could in some subconscious effort to prove that even though he wanted out from the shadow of his parents, the meaning of his name was still important to even him. It was no surprise that when a nondescript manila envelope appeared at his quarters, he smelled opportunity and blindly followed its instructions to travel to a certain location. The last thing he remembered was failing to fight off a group of military-types.


R E G A I L I A.
True to his steadfast discipline, technique is the most valued aspect of combat to the mind of Corbyn Vesper. Though strength, speed, and power are all equal parts of a successful battle style, skill and technique have always taken precedence over the rest. To that end, Corbyn moves about the battlefield with grace and efficiency, no movement wasted or superfluous and every action intentional and calculated. To him, this is the only way to survive and coming out alive in the end is the only consideration in the heat of battle. His chosen weapon is a custom-built, dual-headed lance spanning the length of his body. On each end lies an ornate spearhead that is designed to cut as well as it pierces if used in the correct manner. A chain and pulley mechanism was built into the shaft and attached to the spearheads, allowing each to be fired and retracted or simply released to be used in a whip-like fashion. The shaft also spits in the middle to enable a quicker, more close-quarters style to be used should the need arise.

Though he considers his strongest abilities to be purely physical and gained through training, even Corbyn could not deny the intriguing power and potential of his bonded Aeon, despite the fact that his relationship with the being called Asteria is a work-in-progress. Through the power of Asteria, Corbyn gained the power to move his body through folded space in order to reach any given point instantaneously; to the eye of another, this phenomenon causes the commander to appear as if he's warping from point to point. The ability has been dubbed "Point Shift". Unlike the accepted mechanics of teleportation however, point shifting requires Corbyn to use an anchor with which to shift to in order to focus and keep his body from splintering while moving through folded space. An anchor can be anything thrown by Corbyn himself and he prefers to use his own weaponry as a means to shift as it allows him greater maneuverability on the battlefield.

The caveat to this seemingly powerful ability lies in the fact that physical damage occurs during any shift. The human body can not withstand moving through folded space and though the power of his bonded Aeon protects him from outright dying, Corbyn suffers damage in proportion to the distance traveled; the longer the range from one point to the next, the greater the damage taken on landing. The other problem is that his range is largely governed by how far he can toss his chosen anchor. Due to these limitations, point shifting is used as a companion in battle rather than a means of mobility. Corbyn has even developed several techniques to make specific use of battle possibilities.


S H I F T B R E A K [singular. destructive. apathetic.] Affecting a single target, space folds around Corbyn and he moves through it, picking up velocity and speed until he savagely rams his target with the point of his weapon. This technique intends to deal significant damage to one target while dealing heavy damage to Corbyn himself as the travels over a great distance at a much higher intensity in order to build the proper power. This attack is stronger if executed from further away, but this also increases the damage done to the commander.


P H A S E S H I F T [dismissive. protection. arrogance.] Concocted while learning the reaches of his new abilities, Corbyn found that attempting to shift without throwing an anchor resulted in what is now dubbed as a phase shift. The technique does not move the commander through folded space, rather it instantaneously moves him the length of one full stride. In effect, this allows for life-saving evasive maneuvers in a close quarters situation should human reaction and awareness not be enough.


S H I F T B U R S T [explosive. damning. preservation.] An oddity in the arsenal, shift burst occurs as Corbyn throws an anchor straight into the ground at his own feet. Rather than move through folded space to meet the anchor as normal, the folded space compresses and explodes outwards in a radius, pushing back whatever is caught in the area and causing internal damage - a technique designed to provide temporary relief from an aggressive, surrounding mob.


A E O N.
A S T E R I A // Colorless
[ Apathetic, Dismissive, Preservation, Adaptation ]
Asteria was found in the wilds of Ivalice, encased in a hardened substance akin to diamond, but not quite as strong. Upon removing the body and commencing the studies, it was found that Asteria's DNA constantly shifts and transforms itself - revealing that though she takes a female form, she has the capability to take new forms and her true nature is unknown. Her current form is that of a seraph as fantasized by human minds. Her body and face are that of a young adult woman with flowing brown hair while six, white feathery wings protrude from her back and a fitting black gown covers her bare self.


C O R E.
Lancer


O V E R D R I V E.
P E R F E C T S H I F T
The culmination of a perfect bond between Corbyn and Asteria, Corbyn gains the ability to freely point shift over any distance without throwing an anchor and without suffering any damage. The commander blinks around the battlefield delivering blows to any and all he considers an enemy. Most notably, this allows him to freely perform Shift Break without the limitations and deal massive damage to single targets all over the battlefield.





L i l l i a n E l d r i t c h

Thirty-One | 6 July | Five-Foot-Nine | 145 lbs | First Class



. a p p e a r a n c e .
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An intermingled combination of flaxen and umber strands color her waist-length hair while icy oculars and devilishly arched brows create an intimidating gaze amidst her unpredictable countenance and slender face; Lillian Eldritch is a purpose-driven soul and her physicality supports this notion. A long frame highlights her proportional contour, bodily assets developed just enough to distinguish a definitive gender, but not in such a gratuitous manner that one might mistake her for a vixen. Her limbs remain lean though distinctively shaped and sculpted from a lifetime of vigorous activity and a regular regimen ingrained into the fabric of her being. A tattoo is the final piece of her corporeal individuality though it is hidden on the whole of her back underneath the various garments she dons for the outside world. The marking depicts an angry, yellow-eyed black dragon seemingly in mid-flight, twirling around the space her back affords before appearing to head straight towards anyone looking on from behind the woman. It's wings extend from each side of her upper latissimi dorsi and curl around her shoulders. It is the sole tattoo inked on her body and its significance remains a closely guarded secret.

Varying types of attire suit the personal tastes of Lillian, but she most often chooses sheer comfort over outfits that would likely leave long-lasting impressions--these kinds of clothing are saved for special occasions of which there are few. Standard denim bottoms, t-shirts, leather jackets, and sports attire are the regularly cycled articles of choice though the one area of indulgence afforded is footwear. Lillian very rarely steps into tennis shoes or sneakers, opting for an array of fashionable boots instead. The single constant uniting all her clothing decisions is the fitting nature of everything she wears. Of course, these types of garb are only adorned when off duty.

Official capacity dictates her most-worn attire to be a uniform of slightly loose fitting and breathable material.
Ebony and azure come together in the form of tactical cargo pants tucked into equally ebon, ankle-high boots and a form-fitting top with sleeves that taper just under the elbows and a hemmed bottom that remains perfectly hidden within her belted waist. A single pauldron rests on the left shoulder, held in place by a thin strap that runs from the pauldron itself, across her chest and torso, and diagonally down into the belt.


. p s y c h e .
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Lillian Eldritch, though seemingly purpose-driven, is less mysterious than she is perplexing. Her persona is a study in dichotomous character, a contrast of opposing intents revealing how an individual is comprised of multiple sides and traits that come together to try and form a cohesive whole--a truly unique being, some might say. Outwardly, she is callous, a darkly humorous undertow causing some to question the true feelings behind the words that slither out of her unfiltered mentality. Her dialogue can be cold and venomous, yet it is also honest and direct where others would sugarcoat or wrap their conversation in a more gentle, warm sort of eloquence. She sees others around her, but does not consider how her ways may affect them until she is already indirectly influencing their lives. Inwardly, Lillian is torn and mildly confused. She balks at the anger and intensity of her own words and actions while questioning their necessity--does this need to go that far? Do I need to be the one to do it? She is not the best in social interaction, yet she seemingly seeks out conversation in spite of her rather ill-tempered mannerisms.

Her actions and dialogue are mostly inspired from beliefs tempered and solidified during her long stretch in the Palamecian military and forced entry into the SOLDIER program. Lillian believes that law and order should reign true, but only her own perverted sense of law is acceptable. She believes that she alone can enact change on a massive scale and is not opposed to wallowing in the depths of atrocity to emerge with what she considers to be the only kind of justice and order that can exist successfully. In spite of holding these beliefs dear, she does not openly discuss such matters with everyone around her. After witnessing the crooked associations promoted by rotten politics in the past, Lillian simply accepts that not everyone can understand what she considers the truth and does not waste energy in attempting to convert those to her as yet silent cause. That said, she can sometimes lose herself to argument when encountering the types who are similar to the officers she once served under.


. b a c k g r o u n d .
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Lillian Amaya Eldritch was born to a middle-class family on the north side of Lestallum, a small city in the frigid colds of Junon. Originally, her parents met in Gatrea and moved to Junon seeking better opportunities for a more prosperous life. Her father worked in many different occupations before finally settling on starting his own business; he began a small company that specialized in software engineering and went on to grow the company into a respectable cyber-security firm. Lillian's mother was always a stay at home type after the emigration though she proudly served in the Palamecian military back in her home country of Baanga and before marrying her husband. Aleksy Eldritch met Regina when she traveled to Gatrea on assignment and the two completely hit it off from there, staying in contact with one another until Regina's service ended and the duo could marry and head for Junon.

Once his company took off, Aleksy began putting in more man hours, trying to create the life he had always dreamed of for his family. Though Regina respected her husband's drive and determination, the loneliness that had slowly developed shifted into a sharp resentment that she held within and hid whenever he did deign to come home every once in a while. These feelings eventually led to a pattern of affairs that Lillian grew from not understanding to carrying the burden of keeping quiet. To take her mind off of the parental drama, the middle-school aged Lillian stayed out of the house and spent most of her time outside and in the city. Lestallum was not usually the place to walk around and sight see, but the young girl had always been fascinated by how different people could be and the many facets of life that seemed to scream at her as she simply walked down one street after another.

When she was caught and sentenced to the family property after school, Lillian took up reading and evolving her imagination instead. It did not take long for the love of reading to replace going out and imagining how others might be in the privacy of their lives. Books allowed one to partake of any world they wished and it was this kind of wonder that clung to the girl as she continued her grade school journey. It was on her graduation to high school that her parents decided to get a divorce. Aleksy had hired a private investigator to follow and document his wife's life unbeknownst to her and once he had the evidence, he went to work to securing his assets and making sure Regina would leave the marriage with as little as possible. In the heat of hearings and court proceedings, it was decided that Lillian would remain in her father's custody and that day in court was the final time she would ever lay eyes on her mother.

When high school finally began, Lillian had shed her previous child-like wonderment and bubbly self. Her attitude became much more subdued and reserved and the teenager was content to simply engage in her studies and nothing more. In spite of her good grades, her teachers noted the attitude shift and multiple counselors were employed to speak with the girl. They all came to the conclusion that she had cut herself off from the emotions she harbored for the breakup of her parents and the actions of her mother in particular, but Lillian always dismissed them. Without failing her studies and participating in mischievous behavior, the only thing counselors and therapists could do was to respect her wishes and let her wallow in the despair she had created for herself. As his daughter neared her high school graduation, Aleksy tried one last attempt to reconnect and began to share stories of Regina's service to her country's military. Though she did not revert completely, Lillian did find a piece of the curiosity she once had for life and, inspired by the stories, decided to join the Palamecian military out of high school.

It was during this time that Lillian's psyche began to crack. Suffering the misfortune of being place in the squadron of a sexist commanding officer, the eighteen-year-old Lillian was placed on guard duty at the Imperial Paddock. She was denied any position that would allow to see combat or maybe even advance ranks in favor of another warm body replacing a post that the previous servicemen had felt was beneath himself to keep holding. During her tenure, the young, naive soldier witnessed all manner of abuse of authority and abuse in general. Intermixed with these traumatic events were the politics that falsely justified the actions of those who committed such heinous acts. She came to understand that it was the politics behind the military and state governments that allowed and forced these actions more so than the people who physically acted. She came to hate politics and her anger only grew as she was shifted around from post to post and placed under worse COs than the last.

Finally, the day came after years of growing disillusioned with those around her; Lillian's service contract expired and she was up for reenlistment. Though the young woman had already decided to leave the military behind and hopefully cleanse her mind, it was not to be. Against her will, she was volunteered for a new program that no one had any details of, but thought would be just another shitty guard posting. Lillian silently cursed the higher ranking officers and the state's government the whole shuttle ride to Fort Lullin and the last thing she would remember from that time would be stepping off the vehicle and suffering a sudden blackout.


. r e g a i l i a .
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One that upholds the law must do so by means of necessary force; a saying by Lillian in regards to combat and her feelings on the lethality thereof. Though these feelings are harsh and severe in implication, her actual combat style comes forth from calm demeanor and silent aggression. Lillian is well versed in the techniques of close-quarters combat and agile maneuvers though her actual method of offense is unique even amongst the ranks of SOLDIER and its varied, highly individualistic manifestations of Aeon ability. Lillian and Eris, her bonded Aeon, are so well synchronized that she commands pure, raw energy--white or black depending on the specific attack--with the blessing of her alien counterpart. In conjunction with this, the SOLDIER carries a physical Tarot card deck that, when combined with the energy, allows their owner to create constructs that are only limited by imagination. These constructs take the form most appropriate for the situation and endow Lillian with both ranged and melee abilities, making her a versatile and formidable combatant.

In spite of the potential however, Lillian's offense is comprised mainly of power that degrades and corrodes vitality, siphoning life away from her enemies and into her being. The techniques imbued to her from the Aeon within values self-preservation and defense above everything else and ensures Lillian can stand far longer than some of her peers while not necessarily inflicting the most damage amongst those who are considered the enemy.


B I N D I N G O R D E R [Single Target, Siphoning, Devouring] Lillian creates a globular prison of energy-bound tarot cards around a single target and siphons their very life force into her being through astral chains impaled into the body. This siphoning can heal wounds and injuries inflicted whilst slowly killing the target. The speed of the draining is proportional to the strength of the target imprisoned--the stronger the target, the longer it takes to completely devour its life force.


C H A O T I C O R D E R [Multi-Target, Piercing, Explosive] Using black energy molded into the shape of small arrows, Lillian propels her tarot cards at high velocity in a radius around her. Once they've all impaled enemies, the energy arrows explode all at once, damaging or outright killing those impaled and causing explosive damage to those in close proximity. The explosions are small and harmless to those who are not right next to impaled enemies.


J U D I C I O U S S T E P [Evasive, Self-Preservation, Instantaneous] Coating herself in white energy, Lillian instantaneously moves from where's she standing to another spot about the length of one long walking stride away. This is a small evasive technique that is best served in close-combat when even a second delay could mean the difference between injury or death. Since it moves over such a small distance, it's not viable as an alternate means of movement nor can it be increased to cover longer distances. It exists as it is for a specific purpose.


. a e o n .
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E R I S | B l a c k / W h i t e {Law, Justice, Chaos, Devouring, Decaying}

Eris is a bit of a mystery as far as Aeons are concerned. Her form is largely unknown thanks to the fact that when she was discovered it was in a wispy form of ebony and gray. To the surprise of all those involved however, she was completely non-resistant to capture and study. After bonding with Lillian, it was determined that the rate of synchronization was so high, it was almost as if she was waiting for a SOLDIER to come along to be bonded to. It was after much time passed after the bonding that Lillian began to hear echoes and whispers in her head. After conversing with the being within, the two aligned themselves which resulted in a perfect bond. Eris's speech only comes across as whispers and echoes, but Lillian has developed the ability to understand this kind of dialogue.


. c o r e .
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Synergist


. o v e r d r i v e .
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T H E L A W O F N E U T R A L C H A O S

Lillian's overdrive is a manifestation of her very beliefs combined with the alluring and manipulative power and possession of her Aeon to produce a final offense that wholly embodies the philosophy of the chaotic neutral alignment. The offense begins by spreading the entirety of her tarot deck around a large space, each card cementing itself in the ground face up and forming a very wide rectangular shape of sorts. Once each card is laid out, astral chains of both white and black energy rise up from within the cards and shackle all entities within the rectangular field. With outstretched arms, Lillian--fully taken over by Eris--absorbs and devours the life energy of everything shackled with no discrimination between friend or foe. This is the ultimate self-preservation technique and can be achieved by Eris alone should Lillian find herself in a near death state. Though the intention is not to harm friends, everything that is caught within the field suffers the same wrath.
Looking forward to it!

Pffft, don't give me that legend crap. I'm just a guy who wants to write coherently at the very least lol.
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