Inertia

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

@Fat Boy Kyle

Currently in the process of moving between countries while being in an intermediary country, it's fun.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

@POOHEAD189

Hey no worries.

Also thanks haha! Festive Halloween spirit y'know?

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

@POOHEAD189

Since your character's going for the drowner contract, feel free to interact, and if you want I can jump in for a quick collab.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

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Niavak Delthrane
Jolly Lion Inn - City of Telchar
Mid-afternoon

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His now cold meal was all about finished. The silent prattle now beginning to liven up as the day continues to amble by. Two of the more louder individuals catching the eyes of a few patrons, with a man that seemed to be out of it, and a woman feeding him some... concoction. It was an interesting sight to behold for a moment or two. From behind his ale, his eyes began drifting aimlessly through the sea of faces, stopping and landing directly on a quirky twosome that had just entered the inn- particularly the man who holstered two blades on his hip. Even if Niavak himself does similarly, it was still an odd sight to find another individual who carries two swords. Niavak's brow rose as his eyes followed the man; noticing the stranger's gait, he had summised that this man is an experienced swordsman. It was easy to miss the way he carried himself proved so. Niavak's varied experience had trained his eyes to find the finer movement of individuals, being able to easily discern between an expert and a competent user.

Interesting, this city does live up to it's tales, he mused wordlessly behind his tankard. As he got up, his swords buckled under his feet, and after taking one last look at the stranger he walked to the door. It was time for him to follow up on the leads. His eyes narrowed at the blinding light, the day was much to bright for himself. His gaze meandered through the rows of houses, looking for any signs of the 'Town Hall' so that he could take up the contract. He also wouldn't mind company in this contract as drowners come in packs. After a few wrong turns he took to asking a random passerby. He handed the man a few bronze coins as he pointed towards the general direction of the town hall.

He made his way to the hall, his leather boots sinking slightly in the recently muddied roads. His thoughts ended up wandering towards the witcher executed here, the few and far between hearsay and rumors speak of it being unjust execution with no real trial. This city is darker than Niavak initially realised. A few more minutes of walking led him to the doors of the hall, which looked cleaner and fancier than the tens of creaky houses he had passed by. With a strong gaze upwards, he went into the hall. He was led in by a person to the office of Captain Artorias and Monroe.

"Greetings." he said, his voice slightly coarse having not spoken that day as of yet. With a light cough he continued, "I have caught wind of a contract about a workshop's girl disappearing, and I would like to take it up. Of course I wouldn't mind waiting on a few more individuals as I've also heard it was a gaggle of Drowners that took the girl."

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

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Niavak Delthrane
Northwall -> Central - City of Telchar
Mid-afternoon

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A sigh of relief escaped Niavak's lips as the caravan passed through the familiar, rickety gates of Telchar. For better or worse, Niavak had been tasked to guard the trader and his goods by himself. It had been a four day journey from the rambunctious city of Turr, the caravan had slowed down their trek by a day. Luckily it was only a few scant untrained bandits, and a pack of wolves that had slowed their journey. The bandits were quickly dispatched off as they had no formal training, with the only damage he received being boredom and disappointment; the wolves scattered as soon as more than a handful perished under his gleaming blade.

He rubbed his slightly aching leg as the trader spoke with the guards, and they were let in. The trader then patted himself off, handed him a bag of crowns, and went off- disappearing into the sea of faces. Odd fellow, pleasantly pleased that he didn't try to converse to much through the passage, he thought, sliding the dusty sack into his inner pockets. Niavak rolled his shoulders, taking a long look at the city, coupled with the city's hustle and bustle, the city gave off an air of normalcy. "Is this really where they ended that poor sod off?" he muttered almost inaudibly to no one in particular, "Smoke and mirrors, huh?"

His steps took him to Central, eyeing for the 'Jolly Lion inn'. A hearty meal, and a nap would do good to the man's mental physique. After a few moments of pacing aimlessly in the central he finally located the inn, the loud chatter and the lingering smell of ale gave it away. Stepping in he was nary cast a look, his creaking steps through the old oak smothered by the clamor of the establishment. "Room please." he asked, placing crowns on the counter. As the woman scraped off the coin, she led him to his room upstairs. As he settled in the woman handed her his keys, and left finding her way back into the ground floor. The door locked with a click, and he began taking off his murky cloak then his steel armor. "Damned long day."

With his body heavy, and his eyes failing he slowly drifted off into a rare, relatively restful sleep.

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"Listen Niavak," A blurry cloaked figure called out from the stern of a wooden ship, the storms were unlike anything Niavak had ever witnessed "You have to g-" The man's words were cut off by a crackle of white that barreled down the mast of the ship, simultaneously lighting on fire. A large wave then thrashed the already barely held together ship, with the force violently thrashing the young Niavak into the dark depths of the ocean. The fiery ship that lit up the night soon bled into nothingness as the black and red of the sea slowly began to envelope his sight.

He woke up in a cold sweat, heaving lightly as his eyes swam nervously around the wooden walls of the inn. Outside the window, he noticed it was about sunrise making him decide to get up. His joints cracked as he got up, sluggishly equipping his armour then his tattered cloak. Niavak wasn't exactly a morning person, making his way to the ground floor to grab a bite to eat. Luckily it isn't as noisy as it is at night, the only people up were a few patrons dead asleep on the counters, and a gaggle not-so morning people like him. He spotted an empty table, and slowly sauntered towards it. Waving over the 'waitress', he ordered for the generic special for that fine morning.

"Hey, y'heard of the workshop's daughter gone missin'?"
"I 'eard, say he let up a hefty contract- two hundred crowns for her return."
"So ye feel like takin' it up?"
"Nah, I 'eard it was drowners, ain't my thing."
"Bet you would if ye coul' shag her."
"Ey fook off, you'd piss yerself silly infont of the drowners."

"Here's your food." she said snapping Niavak out of the conversation to the table next to him. She placed down a steaming soup with soft bread, and meat on the side. He slid some copper in her hand and she left him to his devices. He began slowly consuming his meal, his mind drifting into the drowner contract the two unsavory fellows spoke of, "Might be worth a little look."

Inertia's Motion [Character Dump]

Niavak Delthrane

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Character Theme – Scholar of the First Sin
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NIAVAK DELTHRANE

Standing at about average height, he boasts a build befitting that of a speedy swordsman. His muscular tone leans towards use of agility, rather than strength. His dirt snowy hair is lazily slicked upwards, falling downwards in random, and erratic positions. His hands are calloused, the sign of a man whom takes his training seriously. He almost always drapes his black, graying cloak, around himself fastened by an unknown, shimmering crest.

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【Alias】
Pale Swordsman.

【Race】
Human.

【Gender】
Male.

【Age】
24.

【Sexuality】
Demisexual.

【Birth Place】
Unknown; Forgotten.

【Nation/Allegiance】
Neutral.

【Profession】
Sellsword/Mercenary.

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【Personality】
For a sellsword, Niavak is a cordial individual, perhaps much too much for his own good. He treats anyone he speaks with respect, only taking that away if that person had proven they did not deserve it. He has a certain charisma to his speech, easily promoting acquaintances to a sort of odd friendship at times. Though he is friendly, he will not take real threats targeted towards him sitting down, and almost always readies to defend or fight for himself.

At rarer times, melancholy can be evidently present across his features. Always trying to remember his hazy, unknown past when he can, only to be met by the physical, and mental pain it wroughts whenever he does so. He always wonders what his purpose will be after managing to complete his swordsmanship, he has little idea of how he was in the past, so much so that he has trouble pacing himself on how he should act, feel, think. How he acts now may not be how he had acted in the past. Thoughts like these always leave him in a daze of confusion, and identity crisis. It is difficult to ascertain his past but he always tries to do so when he is able to, actively visiting sites of the scant memories he manages to recall.

If asked about beliefs, he tends to stay silent, allowing the other individual ramble, while providing little to no speech from his end. He doesn't mind people believing in the sea god Manannan, while he himself doesn't really have any faith in said god. Mostly stemming from his childhood; the moment where he had forgotten his past, being forced to rely on himself to put food on the table. As such he chooses to believe in himself to get things done rather than others, and certainly not gods.

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【History】
Niavak suffers from retrograde amnesia, not remembering much of his past. The scant memories he can recall are hazy, and results in a throbbing headache when he tries to remember. Most of what he can remember was a man, who donned a similar cloak with the same crest as Niavak. Moments of almost spartan-like training comes and go. The final, strongest memory is him on a wooden ship, fighting against a raging storm; he remembers the familiar figure shouting at him, before endless black. Oddly enough, he remembers being disgraced for a 'sin', but he has trouble trying to place his memory. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, he travels to places he 'feels' he is familiar with, as an effort to try and remember his past.

Growing up after finding no one but his lonesome was difficult to say the least. The only thing being left to his name was a cloak, and a beautiful sword that shimmered a mesmerizing blue. Being of unknown origins, many villages, in best cases treated with him utter disregard or contempt leaving him to do his business, at worst cases he was chased out due to superstition. Though at the time he failed to remember anything about the past, his body remembered his training. This was made evident when an individual attacked him whilst on the road, screaming at Niavak to lay down his weapon, and he may leave with his life.

He was initially fearful until his body moved away from an obvious, too large swing. The bandit's eyebrows lifted, and he kept swinging madly only for Niavak to deftly weave out of the way right before the hits could land. He was blessed that day as the bandit proved he had little to no training with the way of the sword. Niavak's body slowly began to recall his training. Wielding the sword was like attaining a limb he once lost. At the end, having suffered minor cuts, and bruises, he stood victorious over the bandit. He was unconscious, his body sliced up. The man still breathed raggedly, for better or for worse. Niavak looted what little the man had on his person, including his crude, clearly neglected blade and went on his way.

In present day, he acts as a sellsword or mercenary, taking on different odd-jobs strewn about the great continent of Aridia. He could be an escort, guarding important figures as they traversed through the lands. He was once a trainer for a short amount of time, trying to teach his swordsmanship. In other times, he is chosen to slay monsters as a pseudo-replacement if Witchers were not currently present.

For unbeknownst reasons, something from within pulls at him to complete his unfinished swordsmanship. He has little idea why this was so. His main drive is travelling the land in search of great swordsmen and swordswomen. To study under their tutelage if possible, or duel them to ascertain their styles, and possibly implement them in his own. After a decade of wandering, trying to appease his insatiable desire to 'complete' his swordsmanship has earned him name or moniker as the 'pale swordsman' amongst the great practitioners, often being the subject of curious talks when said great practitioners gather.
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【Skills and Abilities】
Adept Swordsman - Niavak's skill with the blade is what the untrained eye might call 'graceful', to the trained eyes who have witnessed this, most have usually commented on it's finesse, noting that it has little to no wasted movement. His own personal style of swordsmanship has been incremented by various styles of the sword during his travel. He has hit a wall, being unable to transition to mastery, however feeling very close to surpassing the shell of mastery. He also enters the odd tournament to test his prowess at times.

The fastest tend to live - His swordsmanship is focused on parrying, or moving out of harms way in time to deliver a devastating counter attack in the small window when they recover. His eyes are trained to notice the 'follow-through', or otherwise the wind up and wind down of each attack. In turn he makes his attacks fast, and limiting them have a smaller wind down. However this type of attacking tends to take time as he is required to observe his opponent to familiarize himself with their way of attacking, and defending.

Apprentice 'Hunter' - Due to him needing to take odd jobs for his well-being, he eventually began taking jobs that Witchers would normally take. He has basic, and rudimentary understanding of hunting creatures that go bump in the night. Not quite on the same level as a Witcher, of course, but with time he can get there himself.
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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Niavak dons a basic armorset, a breastplate, shoulder-guards, and leather gauntlets. Underneath is a red tunic laced with chainmail. His only other apparel is his black cloak, always draped over his shoulders. The armor is light, allowing him to be more nimble and faster than normal.

He carries two swords on his back, one that he always had on him; 'Shatter', a steel longsword that shimmers blue under the night light. Recently he had acquired a silver sword, naming it 'Tremor', specifically purchased to deal with creatures request that pop up frequently.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Dark-ish turquoise?
Has a decent singing voice, and can play the lute with some level of proficiency.

RP

//: Project:EVE : (OPEN)

\\\\ TEAM A \

_{NUMBER 6 | NUMBER 16 | NUMBER 18 | NUMBER 22 | NUMBER 114}

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Asmodeus had been the first to arrive, he duly waited for his beloved siblings. He whistled a tune, and had a one-sided conversation with the guard whom had clearly been instructed not to converse with the 'children'.

Dostya arrived second, hauling with her an oversized autocannon she had gotten from the armory. This she leans against a wall next to the gate before she sits down to wait for the other 3 to arrive.

"Sup Blink. How are your cybernetics holding up?"

A genuine smile plastered onto Asmodeus' features, seeing the hulking mass that is Weaver was always a sight for sore eyes. He gave her a short wave, "Hey Dostya, the ol' kicker still works, and the one in my brain seems to be alright." he replied, tapping his temple, "Might have to trouble you after this mission to take a little look afterwards."

“Sure I’ll take a look, it’s not like I’ll have anywhere else to be once they drag us back here.”

She was pretty sure she had no other commitments. She’d made a calendar she could see just by thinking about it specifically set up to track appointments with staff and it showed no pending appointments. Because she’d forgotten to update it for months now.

“At least I don’t think I need to be anywhere” She shrugs. It would all work itself out in the end, with only minor frustration on the staffs behalf if she was supposed to be doing something.

"Awesome." he replied, "I would discuss a general plan or stratagem for these A-Class hunters but, I'd prefer waiting on our lovely siblings to arrive before doing so."

One of those other siblings was number 114, or Pinpoint, or Chloe, depending on who you were. She thought it was a little funny that there was an almost 100 number difference between her and the nearest sibling on her team. At the same time though, there were no loose cannons on her time. Dostya might give her the shivers if she thought about her for too long, but she only really had to worry about the Hydra.

She turned the corner and there was Asmodeus and the looming figure of Dostya.

"Hey, Asmodeus, hey, Dostya." Chloe said bluntly. She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. As soon as she did, she felt her heart nervously flutter. Scared of death- as always. It hadn't happened yet, though.

"Chloe!" he exclaimed, glad that she was on this mission aswell. "... or do you prefer Pinpoint?" he continued, a playful smirk on his face. Pinpoint's abilities provided unbelivable cover, to Asmodeus' it was a relief to see a person who covered his weaknesses on this mission with him.

"I prefer Chloe, thanks." Chloe responded. Someone spoke up from behind her and the sharpshooter turned around to see Lilith approach.

"Well, well, well. Look at all of you, already here. No one told you the cool kids arrive late?" Lilith said, as she smirked at her team, already waiting by the gate. She hadn't exactly gotten to know them, despite being her so-called "siblings" yet she was somewhat aware of their abilities.

Blink was their speed demon and with an almost tolerable attitude since she enjoyed the fact that he would always speak his mind no matter who was listening. That was a virtue, in her book. Weaver on the other hand, was probably one of the few Children that Lilith actually admired. She was always amazed by her creations as well as the fact that it took three months for the staff to figure out that she had hacked her collar, something which could definitely prove useful when the time to break out of that damn facility came. Pinpoint hadn't been someone Eve had a particular knowledge of nor -she believes- had ever actually interacted. All she knew was that she was probably the greatest sharpshooter in the history of humanity and while that was admirable, Psyker couldn't see how it would help the cause.

"Now, I did my best to arrive last but it seems that we're actually still waiting for the broodmother and please, for all that is divine, don't tell her I called her that." Lilith added as she looked around, maybe Gladys was hiding somewhere or behind one of her... creations. While she definitely had an interesting ability, it really made her stomach turn, the way her skin came off and all.

"What, no greetings Lilith?", he smirked, acknoledging her presence, "Don't be such a stranger. Converse with us more, we're kinda, but not really, siblings after all, right?" Asmodeus mentally noted that the team about to be assembled could be surprisingly adept at taking down Hunters, be it experience or by their very abilities. He still worried about the mission at hand, but this team is excellent for A-Class Hunters.

“I always thought of us as half-Siblings. Eve, big alien Eve not little sister Eve, is all our mom in a way.” Dostya had been staring blankly at the wall for about 20 seconds, her mind filled with several possible incremental improvements she could make to Blink's cybernetics, but finally managed to tear control of her thoughts away from her muse in order to abruptly rejoined the conversation and subsequently realized three more of her siblings had arrived at the gate.

“Oh, and hello there you three”

"Hello to you too, dear," Gladys chuckled. She glided towards the group at a sedate pace, smiling fondly at Dostya. Those absent-minded moments of hers were always so endearing - like an oversized puppy being startled from its sleep. It's nice to see someone's not worried about the mission. From around her neck, her Grandchild chittered excitedly with its pincers, echoing the sentiment for her. The little darlings were always so clear about their feelings. Or hers. It was hard to tell the difference, sometimes.

She tipped her head towards Asmodeus, offering an approving nod at his words. "And of course we're all siblings - by now, at least." Her hands swept out imperiously as she gestured around them - at the hangar, the guards and each other. "All matters of blood aside, we've all grown up under this roof, and scraped through this accursed war together. That sort of thing makes us all siblings."

"Now that's a cute concept." Lilith whispered, sarcastically. Being siblings and all was only a label, hell some of them like #10 or that Institute mole, Nile, were an actual threat.

The guard, at least, did not appreciate being considered related to the children around him. The children for their part ignored this and got down to the business of pre-mission chatter.

"And big sis makes it into the stage." he said with his back resting against the wall, his eyes trailing Gladys' grandchild, "Now this reunion is endearingly fun, but now that everyone's accounted for let's get to brass tacks. anyone have any thoughts on some general strategy?"

"I'm sure you all are amazing Hunter killers in your time, but I myself have had limited experience with all of you guys. Course I have some idea of your powers, I've read files, or had the few scant mission here and there." he continued, making lingering eye contact with each of them, "Now, I'd like to know what kinks in your abilities you all have, better to know now than later. Ah, feel free to ask about mine."

A few moments of deliberation passes before Asmodeus spoke up once more, "I'm sure it won't be necessary, but with my speed I'm able to scale up walls. This extends to being able to get up on those charming hunters, much easier than most."

"I can pretty much do anything really, my ability is quite versatile, I can support, attack, defend, maybe all at the same time. They aren't exactly a deadly threat -for me at least- but they aren't the easiest to kill either so I'd say that we need to separate them and take them down instead of letting them use their pack mentality against us. Plus, we cannot afford to let any of them get close to civilians or go too wild since we'll be actually fighting in the city." Lilith added to what Blink started.

A battleplan was a great idea and since they all worked together for the first time, it would be wise to get accustomed to each other's abilities.

"I should make one thing clear though. I will not accept any civilian casualties, we see anyone left behind or anyone in need and we help. And if you don't, I will. Those poor souls are in the middle of something they can't grasp and they don't even have a chance. Hell, we are their chance actually. And some of our so-called siblings treat lives like... like theirs are so much more worthy. So much more important. It disgusts me and as long as I can do something, I won't let a single life be lost.

Lilith didn't notice that her fist was shaking or the fact that the look on her face had turned from her usual bitchy one to something far more serious and determined, maybe closer to her true self.

Chloe nodded in agreement, keeping her eyes on Lilith.

A morose expression placated Asmodeus for a second before being washed away by his usual smirk, "I'm certain the Institute will double down on keeping the area secure while we handle the mess. If push comes to shove, I'll handle extracting civilians, I can get them out the fastest, and come back quickly. Course' that means I'd have to leave you guys without a fifth for a moment or two." he continued, his face turning stern "However Lilith, under no circumstances should you break formation. We need to remember these are 'A-Class' Hunters, not your run of the mill Hydra. Adding one Hunter on another teammates back endangers their lives. It's fine- admirable even, for you to care for civilian safety, but that does not mean you are allowed to risk our lives in tandem. Trading life for life isn't heroic, this isn't a fairytale, if anyone of us die it just means the Institute will double down on experimentation to replace a child."

"Look at you, acting all high and mighty, a leader in disguise. I'm sorry but I've had enough people tell me what to do for two lifetimes, got that, Blink?" Lilith replied coldly, her usual demeanor returning with a slight smirk. Unless Asmodeus had the ability to control her collar, he had no leverage on her, she couldn't care less if they all became Hunter food.

Or did she?

"I just wanna make it out alive, I'm no leader." he retorted simply, his shoulders lifting slightly, "Let's say instead of 'telling you what to do', it's more of taking the most logical course of action."

"With that said, if the worst does come, and there IS a civilian, someone who can handle the load needs to cover for me for the minute I'm gone." Asmodeus' crossed his arms, leaning against the interior. His pale gaze landed directly on Weaver as he addressed her, "Dostya, I'm sorry, but should the need arise I would have to delegate that responsibility to you."

Gladys threw a conflicted look at Lilith’s face, torn between concern and pity at the girl’s loss of composure. It’s not as though any of them would treat us as worthy without our powers, dear. You know that, right? We’re just tame Hydra to them. It hurt to see her so distraught, not least from the pangs of familiarity, but Lilith would work through that phase eventually. It wasn’t as though a civilian would mourn them if they died.

“I’ll delegate the extraction to you, then,” she offered. “As magnanimous as that sounds, I can’t manage fine motor controls across more than one body, so I doubt I could handle the civilians gently. And someone needs to be watching our backs.” She gestured around the group with one hand. “Us five are the only ones that can hold off the Hunters. It’s as Asmodeus says – if we aren’t safe, then none of the civilians are either.”

That’s the generous way to view things.

“My Grandchildren and I would serve best as the vanguard. With only the five of us to guard, I can have one of my Hunters watching each of our backs, and still spare an arm and a few organs to deal with any surprises.” She felt her lip curl a smug half-smile, and savoured the moment. “I can match the senses of any Hunter – smell, sound, vibration or heat vision – if I know which one to tailor. Once we’ve found the Hunters once, I can breed a Grandchild to track them. They rely on the element of surprise far too much – Hunters don’t like it when you can get the drop on them.”

“Hopefully they’ll have evacuated everyone by now, but if there’s stragglers I’m sure I can handle your load for a little while, after all, I’m pretty tough.” Dostya thumps her fist against her chest, producing a metallic clink, muffled slightly by her sweatshirt. “speaking of that and Echidna taking the rear, I imagine it’ll be best if I take point. I’ve got some enhanced vision and I’m probably our best bet at roughhousing with any that ambush us or manage to get past our firepower.” She was most worried about protecting Pinpoint and Psyker in that regard, the two in the group who she suspected would do about as well as a standard human in melee combat with a hunter. Blink was agile, Echidna had her regeneration and Dostya herself was hardy, but she worried that one swipe form a hunter was all it took to do the other two in. Dostya was going to endeavor to not let any hydras get close enough to get a chance to test her hypothesis.

“Added to that, I’m fairly fast in a straight line, though not Blink quick, but if we need to get to/out of somewhere fast I can give the rest of you lifts on my, uh, thorax. Same goes for transporting injured hu...civilians. If we need to get them away, I can bear that load.”

Dostya was somewhere on Gladys’ side of the human relations fence, though her superiority complex wasn’t quite as blatant or entrenched. She had a tendency to rationalise her belief that the children’s survival was of higher importance. If they died there would be so many more people they could have gone on to save that would instead be doomed due to the child's absence. Also, every child lost was a potential trait for future generations that would be snuffed out before it could set down roots. That said, it wasn’t the deepest held belief, as her muse left little time for contemplation on the morality/validity of her opinions.

“As for weakspots, I don’t have the faster turning speed yet, so let’s try not to get surrounded, and, as you might imagine, getting into buildings is kinda problematic” She was currently working on a way of swapping out her current legs for a smaller set on the fly, but that still had some mechanical and power issues she was working around. “So if they hold up inside someplace we’ll need to flush em out for me to be useful. If that's not an option, the Avenger,” she pats the autocannon that is leaning against the wall almost affectionately “ Isn’t going to be hindered by a few walls being in the way, but she ain’t exactly safe to use if there's other people in there with the beasties. Also I’ll end up getting moaned at for ’unnecessary property damage’. Again.”

Chloe, at this point, spoke up. "I guess I'll try to find someplace high and just start taking potshots." she said. The plan, she thought, was simple: Don't let the hunters get behind you. That's what they'd try to do and it was in their best interest to stop that from happening.

"So, is that it? We ready to roll?"

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

I would say so.

Just as a question, we going to be using discord or something similar?

//: Project:EVE : (OPEN)

BLINK

Asmodeus took note of the siblings whom had entered after him, shooting them a nod should they look hi way. His wary eyes landed on #10, taking a moment to observe him before looking away. His nose scrunched up, noticing a change the atmosphere of the room, Was that one?, he thought, eyeing the weird light show in Puppeteer's direction. It was interesting to say the least.

After his eyes swam through his siblings for a few more moments, he finally snapped his gaze towards the director, whom had just crouched down. Either he picked up paper, or he untied his shoes. A smirk drifted onto his face as the director became visible again with no paper on hand. Classic Ghost.

"The Institute has recorded five separate instances of impending Hydra. Two of which are already at or near our doorstep. You have been summoned in such numbers today as five instances of Hydra is severely abnormal under any circumstance.

As such, you will be divided here into groups are varying sizes. Due to the frequency of pockets opening, you will likely be working alongside siblings who you may have never met before. I expect you treat each other with patience and kindness; failure is not an option.

The instances of Hydra are as follows:"

Asmodeus' face flashed alongside other's, being assigned to the 'highest priority' mission, 465:A with NUMBER 6, NUMBER 13, NUMBER 16, and NUMBER 114. "Psyker, Eli, Weaver, and Pinpoint, huh?", he muttered to no one in particular. Soon they were dismissed and sent to gather their belongings. He waved tepidly at his seatmate... floormate? Alma, silently wishing her luck in her mission before bouncing off to the weaponry to collect his daggers and other necessities. As always it was carefully handed to him by a fearful guard, he thought that he would be used to it by now. He sheath the weapon on his sides as per norm.

Aside from that he thought to pace himself slightly by 'jogging' to the terminal he was assigned at, gate 4. Bouncing up and down two times his feet sprang into action after landing on the second hop. A blur of speed ran through the institute, guards on standby felt a strong gust of wind unbalance their normally steady posture. Asmodeus miiiight have ran too fast, needing to use the wall to safely stop his 'light jog'.

The guard at the point glared at Asmodeus, warning him to kill the use of his powers in the Institute. He just placed both hands behind his head, not acknowledging the guard's threat and whistling, Well, seems like I'm the first one here.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

Niavak

Character Theme – Scholar of the First Sin
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NIAVAK DELTHRANE

Standing at about average height, he boasts a build befitting that of a speedy swordsman. His muscular tone leans towards use of agility, rather than strength. His dirt snowy hair is lazily slicked upwards, falling downwards in random, erratic positions. His hands are calloused, the sign of a man whom takes his training seriously. He almost always drapes his black, graying cloak, around himself fastened by an unknown, shimmering crest.

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【Alias】
Pale Swordsman.

【Race】
Human.

【Gender】
Male.

【Age】
24.

【Sexuality】
Demisexual.

【Birth Place】
Unknown; Forgotten.

【Nation/Allegiance】
Neutral.

【Profession】
Sellsword/Mercenary.

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【Personality】
For a sellsword, Niavak is a cordial individual, perhaps much too much for his own good. He treats anyone he speaks with respect, only taking that away if that person had proven they did not deserve it. He has a certain charisma to his speech, easily promoting acquaintances to a sort of odd friendship at times. Though he is friendly, he will not take real threats targeted towards him sitting down, and almost always readies to defend or fight for himself.

At rarer times, melancholy can be evidently present across his features. Always trying to remember his hazy, unknown past when he can, only to be met by the physical, and mental pain it wroughts whenever he does so. He always wonders what his purpose will be after managing to complete his swordsmanship, he has little idea of how he was in the past, so much so that he has trouble pacing himself on how he should act, feel, think. How he acts now may not be how he had acted in the past. Thoughts like these always leave him in a daze of confusion, and identity crisis. It is difficult to ascertain his past but he always tries to do so when he is able to, actively visiting sites of the scant memories he manages to recall.

If asked about beliefs, he tends to stay silent, allowing the other individual ramble, while providing little to no speech from his end. He doesn't mind people believing in the sea god Manannan, while he himself doesn't really have any faith in said god. Mostly stemming from his childhood; the moment where he had forgotten his past, being forced to rely on himself to put food on the table. As such he chooses to believe in himself to get things done rather than others, and certainly not gods.

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【History】
Niavak suffers from retrograde amnesia, not remembering much of his past. The scant memories he can recall are hazy, and results in a throbbing headache when he tries to remember. Most of what he can remember was a man, who donned a similar cloak with the same crest as Niavak. Moments of almost spartan-like training comes and go. The final, strongest memory is him on a wooden ship, fighting against a raging storm; he remembers the familiar figure shouting at him, before endless black. Oddly enough, he remembers being disgraced for a 'sin', but he has trouble trying to place his memory. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, he travels to places he 'feels' he is familiar with, as an effort to try and remember his past.

Growing up after finding no one but his lonesome was difficult to say the least. The only thing being left to his name was a cloak, and a beautiful sword that shimmered a mesmerizing blue. Being of unknown origins, many villages, in best cases treated with him utter disregard or contempt leaving him to do his business, at worst cases he was chased out due to superstition. Though at the time he failed to remember anything about the past, his body remembered his training. This was made evident when an individual attacked him whilst on the road, screaming at Niavak to lay down his weapon, and he may leave with his life.

He was initially fearful until his body moved away from an obvious, too large swing. The bandit's eyebrows lifted, and he kept swinging madly only for Niavak to deftly weave out of the way right before the hits could land. He was blessed that day as the bandit proved he had little to no training with the way of the sword. Niavak's body slowly began to recall his training. Wielding the sword was like attaining a limb he once lost. At the end, having suffered minor cuts, and bruises, he stood victorious over the bandit. He was unconscious, his body sliced up. The man still breathed raggedly, for better or for worse. Niavak looted what little the man had on his person, including his crude, clearly neglected blade and went on his way.

In present day, he acts as a sellsword or mercenary, taking on different odd-jobs strewn about the great continent of Aridia. He could be an escort, guarding important figures as they traversed through the lands. He was once a trainer for a short amount of time, trying to teach his swordsmanship. In other times, he is chosen to slay monsters as a pseudo-replacement if Witchers were not currently present.

For unbeknownst reasons, something from within pulls at him to complete his unfinished swordsmanship. He has little idea why this was so. His main drive is travelling the land in search of great swordsmen and swordswomen. To study under their tutelage if possible, or duel them to ascertain their styles, and possibly implement them in his own. After a decade of wandering, trying to appease his insatiable desire to 'complete' his swordsmanship has earned him name or moniker as the 'pale swordsman' amongst the great practitioners, often being the subject of curious talks when said great practitioners gather.
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【Skills and Abilities】
Adept Swordsman - Niavak's skill with the blade is what the untrained eye might call 'graceful', to the trained eyes who have witnessed this, most have usually commented on it's finesse, noting that it has little to no wasted movement. His own personal style of swordsmanship has been incremented by various styles of the sword during his travel. He has hit a wall, being unable to transition to mastery, however feeling very close to surpassing the shell of mastery. He also enters the odd tournament to test his prowess at times.

The fastest tend to live - His swordsmanship is focused on parrying, or moving out of harms way in time to deliver a devastating counter attack in the small window when they recover. His eyes are trained to notice the 'follow-through', or otherwise the wind up and wind down of each attack. In turn he makes his attacks fast, and limiting them have a smaller wind down. However this type of attacking tends to take time as he is required to observe his opponent to familiarize himself with their way of attacking, and defending.

Apprentice 'Hunter' - Due to him needing to take odd jobs for his well-being, he eventually began taking jobs that Witchers would normally take. He has basic, and rudimentary understanding of hunting creatures that go bump in the night. Not quite on the same level as a Witcher, of course, but with time he can get there himself.
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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Niavak dons a basic armorset, a breastplate, shoulder-guards, and leather gauntlets. Underneath is a red tunic laced with chainmail. His only other apparel is his black cloak, always draped over his shoulders. The armor is light, allowing him to be more nimble and faster than normal.

He carries two swords on his back, one that he always had on him; 'Shatter', a steel longsword that shimmers blue under the night light. Recently he had acquired a silver sword, naming it 'Tremor', specifically purchased to deal with creatures request that pop up frequently.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Dark-ish turquoise?
Has a decent singing voice, and can play the lute with some level of proficiency.