Inertia

The Red Hoods: Initiates

@c3p-0h Just for notification's sake.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

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An ear-piercing stomp roared throughout the hall- echoing a few times before dissipating. The low whispers and murmurs becoming pin-drop silence. Well, as silent as a bunch of rogues can muster. The speech that followed had a similar vibe to speeches made by his grandfather, the current patriarch of the Fendrel family. Needless to say it was a grandiose speech that leaned more on intimidation with a dash of inspiration. Soon they were quickly herded into clusters. Sadon's ears perked up when his last name was called. A few eyes were on him, likely from being referred to as 'Fendrel'.

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Sadon was about to step into his room before he caught a familiar face; an acquaintance, O'Shay, Brighid O'Shay. She was the last person he expected here, sentenced no less. He had hoped that her reason for being here was not as bad as his. Before he could greet her she began releasing the chains of the sentenced with a spell. He raised a curious eye at this and tried to scuttle away, however she had already grasped his arms, the locks clicked and his hands were freed.

"Well, that's not good." Sadon mumbled, massaging his newly freed wrists. He had wanted to avoid trouble and recognition, but Brighid had already outed him by his last name so there was little point in hiding it. After she had introduced herself some had followed suit. He would keep these names in mind, making a special note to those who weren't human. While he had somewhat agreed with Brighid, her method came across as too heavy handed, even for someone as dense as him. Especially for those sentenced, whom he felt was likely to be punished more harshly. Sadon desired to just to blend in and be ignored, but this particular group had now stood out amongst the other initiates. He felt a pang of pity for the other girl- Eliza, who tried to reason with Brighid, though she seemed to stumble on herself. Others introduced themselves and left, some looked worried while some had a pleased look about them.

Sadon sighed. Raising both hands to the sides of his faded hood, he tugged it back a little. His grey, ashen hair pushed through- a trademark of his family, their grey hair being a dominant gene in with all the males and most females. The fabric went slithering down his hair like a living creature, coming to rest at his neck. There was a silent pause after the vampire Vitius had traded his 'life story'.

"I am Sadon, Sadon Fendrel." he said, finding his voice too stiff. "Listen, I am no one special... Maybe you have heard of my family, maybe you have heard the rumours about my brother. They, the- the rumours is just-" He stopped himself, something in him almost pushed him to tell someone, anyone. He recomposed himself. "They're all true, atleast as true as rumours begin with."

With an uncomfortable cough he changed the subject. "I mainly fancy the use of blades in combat. A shield on my right if I find it necessary, otherwise it's two blades. Let's get along."

Sadon stepped up to Finlay with his wrists together, "Chain me up. It matters little to me if I am chained or not. My life, in particular, belong to the Red Hoods- again, chained or otherwise."

He worried a little about what the others might think of him because of this, but he saw little reason to disobey those who held his life in his hands and that such actions would likely just bring them trouble.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

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"Brother... wh- why have you done this?" Sadon said on one knee, his voice breaking. The figure turned with a familiar yet uncharacteristic grin, animalistic yet the most genuine smile his sibling has had for the past handful of weeks. The ever-present figure in his life stood, almost as a foreigner, infront of him, a stranger whom he had no ties with. He clutched his side, blood slowly seeping out, he begged and pleaded again but to no avail,

"Y- You leave me little choice... brother."

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Sadon was jostled awake by the abrupt lurch of the carriage. The dream kept replaying in his mind. Though showing little of it, he was in a sullen mood as he has been plagued by these 'dreams' for a few months now. He rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes before deciding to just not sleep. A little fatigue sounded preferable than the perpetual reminders of his past. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he sat there watching the carriage sway back and forth. His thoughts moved to his life servitude with the 'Red Hoods' before being interrupted by a figure beside him speaking up, seeming to make idle chatter to pass the time,

"You, I reckon I've seen you before. Ferres- Fedndrel... Fendrel was it?" he said after a hacking cough, "What is a shitty miser from the noble families doing 'ere? Sentenced like an animal to these mad jailers like meself."

"... Reason is similar to most." Sadon managed to articulate loosely after the initial surprise of recognition, he pulled his washed out yellow hood further down, "Atonement for a crime committed."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. The stranger shrugged, seeming satisfied by the response and turned over to catch some sleep. Sadon sat there, rocked only by the oscillations of the carriage.

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The carriage came to a complete stop. People were practically being thrown out of the carriage, 'ushered out' as they called it. One of the guard clasped his arm in a vice-like grip and yanked him out of the carriage. The sudden shift of imbalance made him lose his footing, causing him to flip frontwards. Sadon was nothing if not nimble, he caught himself mid-air, landing on his two feet instead of his face. The guards chuckled and cooed amongst themselves, 'Wow, ain't a Fendrel for nothing eh?'

"Alright, 'ser Aristocrat', all yous is to do is follow Finlay." his sentry instructed, pointing out a figure, "Tha' one with the displeased look about him."

Sadon nodded, letting them chain him before following the herd of yellow hoods. His tried to glue his eyes to the path ahead but was betrayed by a cursory glance towards the imposing castle. It felt more like a well-guarded fortress to him- nigh impenetrable in its design. Functionality over form was a succinct way to describe the castle. A quick glance-over made him consider the practicality of the design, situated over tall hills with walls too high to scale, coupled with a hefty drawbridge it looked almost impossible to attack.

It was a few more minutes of walking before they had reached the castle. It was as grandiose as he envisioned- Banners of velvet red adorned the walls, the stone looked nearly immaculate, as if they were tended to every week. The carpet, being the same colour as the banners, draped seamlessly across the stone floor. The ocean of red hoods made it seem like the yellow hoods were nothing more than a drop in the bucket.

Sadon's eyes finally landed on the three oppressive figures on the stage. The Red Hoods were secretive, but even he has heard of Blanchette Rouge. She was a nigh-legendary historical figure. It wasn't exaggeration to say that most persons ever attacked by Monsters were beholden to her in one way or another. It's how her connections were wide and varied and how the 'Red Hoods' could operate under no particular banner.

Sadon tried to cross his arms but couldn't because of the chains. He eyed the figures, waiting to be addressed.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

Sadon Fendrel

Sadon Fendrel

Frontal view

Sex
Male

Age
24

Height
5'9"

Species
Human

Volunteered Or Sentenced
Sentenced

Physical Abnormalties
A gash that runs from the bottom tip of his left ear to his chin. Usually unnoticeable as he drapes a scarf over his neck.

Need-To-Know Information
- Comes from a prestigious military family that produce alot of well-known and decorated individuals.
- Hushed whispers/rumors state that Sadon had committed the treasonous sin of 'Envy'.

Inertia's Motion [Character Dump]

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Maxwell Matthews

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▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Just my luck. Barely count as a deltahuman, barely count as a human. Great."	Maxwell Matthews ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ═══B A S I C O V E R V I E W═══ NAME: Maxwell Fritz Matthews | NICKNAMES: Max, Matt (Close friends) | AGE: 17 | ETHNICITY: American-Italian | PRONOUNS: He/Him | HEIGHT: 5’7” ft | WEIGHT: 157 lb | ....................................................................................................

Available Files	PHYSICAL EVALUATION PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION BACKGROUND INFORMATION POWER EVALUATION OTHER INFORMATION

Physical Evaluation

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═══P H Y S I C A L E V A L U A T I O N═══

"'... Ah him, right, I think I remember him.' Said by everyone, ever."
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▼ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

Max has an 'every-man' atmosphere about him. The kind of guy someone would struggle to pick out of a crowd. The typical look for someone his age. Figuring out early on that he couldn't really changed his looks (short of plastic surgery), he set out to change the only factor he realistically could- his body. Due to this, he is surprisingly well-built for his frame and height due to him practically living in a gym. He strives to make himself stand-out and worked arduously to get and keep his athletic frame. His personal instructor even went to lengths to stop him from overdoing his regimen as he was still in his growth period.

Max's single-minded focus with his body has left other facets of his appearance barren. His fashion sense is practically non-existent, usually just throwing on whatever feels comfortable for him and is 'fine' by his own standards. He usually favors more baggy clothing, which further camouflages his only advantage. He doesn't realize that fashion is one way someone can really stand out. As for his voice, it is not too deep or too high. It was the perfect intonation of ordinary.

In essence, most, if not all, facets of Maxwell are unremarkable.

▼ ATTIRE:

As stated above, when not heading anywhere important he tends to throw on anything baggy and comfortable (The best kind of outfits for working out). When he is going somewhere semi-formal he opts for black, skin-tight jeans and polo and sweater. The most fashionably daring thing he's worn is the same sweater with a nondescript blazer.

Psychological Evaluation

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═══P S Y C H O L O G I C A L E V A L U A T I O N═══

"Such sharp observations. I am amazed, really."
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▼ PERSONALITY:

Max has a rather sarcastic streak to him. He initially used sarcasm to make him more memorable and stand out but over time it has sunk into his core and become a quintessential part of him. He speaks his mind when he feels like it, edging on brutal criticism at times. At best leaving them slightly annoyed, at worst leading to an open dislike and antagonistic relationship. Even despite large difference in power, he isn't afraid to challenge their opinions. His words usually doesn't mean to antagonize but end up doing so anyway. One thing you can always expect from Maxwell is his honesty. As a result he's usually left as with little friends who can really tolerate him. However he does try and befriend those who can deal with his biting tongue.

Much like his appearance, Max was dreadfully average in most things. It would take him conscious and hardwork to achieve what many would consider 'above-average'. The one facet in his life that he has excelled in was training himself. It might be because of lack of interest or similar circumstance that causes him to simply achieve 'average' in tasks he's asked to perform. It was like a bucket of cold water was splashed on him when he realized he'd likely be stuck in some boring 9-5 job until he retired or died. Due to this he promised himself to insert all of his efforts into anything he wanted to do. Well, until he got his powers anyway.

Maxwell's sense of humour is very dry, deadpan and laced with sarcasm. It's difficult to differentiate his 'jokes' from his actual opinion. If he had to place himself, he'd fall within the realm of realism to pessimism.

Though Max's trying his best to get over it, he has a complex on how unremarkable he really is. An interesting facet of his attitude is that he doesn't really care what others think of him as long as they continue to think of him. Better hated than forgotten. As a byproduct, anyone he does befriend end up getting a loyal and rather clingy friend. He's even willing to go completely out of his way just to do his friends favours. This likely stems from his fear of 'losing' those few friends he's gathered.

Max actually had an interesting reaction to his powers. Most physical tasks are now a breeze and his perception seemed to increase ten fold due to the nature of his powers. He could now play any musical piece to perfection; Ernst's Grand Caprice or Paganini’s Caprice No. 4 with a single watch. He feels like he hasn't really 'earned' these newly found skills, as he knows that learning these skills took endless hardwork and talent. Any martial arts technique was a breeze, as long as his body could withstand it. In essence he felt like he 'cheated'. He also feels like his powers aren't 'powerful' enough to even dent those who could control lightning like a plaything or fire like an obedient dog. Overall it was a bag of mixed feelings, feeling unfit for both worlds.

▼ SKILLS/TALENTS:

Max's powers make any physical skills a breeze to utilize/master. Anything that can be replicated physically, Maxwell can copy to perfection quite easily.

Surprisingly enough, he has a good head on his shoulders for battle tactics and plans. He first found this out attending his first 'amateur' martial arts tournament. He prod enemies on their mannerisms and rhythm and write up a plan in his head on what they're likely to do and plan around that. It was this, coupled with his perception that got him kicked out of his first ever tournament.

Other than that, he is quite knowledgeable on the human body. He has intensively researched on human anatomy to maximize his own body's proficiency. He knows many pressure points of the body, joint locks, knowing where to hit to make it 'hurt' etc. To sum it up, he has read many books on the human body as it is one of his few fancies.

To continue, his power doesn't really give him any street smarts. He has to still study to answer exams to pass. Though he could simply look over the 'smartest' classmate he has and mimic their movements, recently he has opted not to cheat in the way as he feels like he's cheating himself and his parents.

Max has a strong penchant for to music. He listens to many, different genres and likes to replicate songs he likes. With his power it's a pretty simple task. However, he actually does have a great singing voice.

Background Data

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═══B A C K G R O U N D D A T A═══

"Nothing interesting here, really. Well until the whole 'deltahuman' shebang, I guess."
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▼ BACKSTORY:

Maxwell Matthews was actually born into an overachieving household. His father was a top businessman known for his sharp business acumen and propensity to propel any business to unimaginable heights. His mother was an astrophysicist, co-authoring many, many papers and theories. Needless to say friends and family waited with bated breaths on the golden child. Unfortunately they got the rather plain and average Maxwell. Both his parents loved him endlessly and didn't seem to care about his disappointing normalcy. They never showed any disappointment. It was only when Maxwell overheard family friends talking about him that he realized how unremarkable he is and this was when he began to develop his complex. These family friends often did it out of earshot of Maxwell's parents but didn't care to hold back even when he was around.

Martial Arts, Studies, Business, Physics, it didn't matter. He was painfully average at all these things. It didn't help that he looked unremarkable either. This was when he began training himself, sculpting his body to something that no person could call 'average'. It was a pretty childish and rash decision in hindsight but one that proved good for him in the future. He didn't know when exactly but he was exposed to Delta-Point energy at some point a few years into training. It would be awhile before he even realized he had powers.

A family friend, a black-belt full-contact martial artist, had invited him to 'sit-in' and observe training. Maxwell reluctantly attended. Of course this 'family friend', James, just wanted to see the Matthews' failure himself. This was rather common but he never told his parents, not wanting to give them any trouble and believed that this failure really was on him. As soon as he arrived he simply poked fun and goaded Max. James would perform techniques and stop them right before it could hit Max. He reacted unflinchingly, even to the Brazilian kick. However James would add a comment that his parents could not be that impressive if 'this is the apple that fell from that tree.'

Max wasn't entirely sure what happened. Before he knew it his leg was above his head and on James neck. He somehow had performed the same Brazilian kick he witnessed moments ago with perfect sharpness. James flopped to the floor. The surrounding rooms peanut gallery was surprised but not as surprised as he was. With a breath he ran out of the gym, not wanting to stick around and see what the rest of them would do. Luckily James was fine, his shoulder absorbed most of the blow. The group kept mum about it, not wanting the embarrassment of being knocked out by 'the failure'.

That night was a night to remember. Max could still remember the raw feeling; his leg lifting up, his hips muscles twisting perfectly and with such force that his kick sounded like a whip. Was it a moment of psychosis? He would set out to test his 'theory'. He asked his parents for a punching bag, a few instruments and painting equipment in his recreation room. They gladly obliged, happy to see their taking an interest in different hobbies other than working out. Facing the punching bag he wanted to see if he could still copy the same kick he did that night. The bag flew back from the force as he executed the Brazilian Kick with perfection.

Over the next few hours Max would watch videos on martial arts techniques; from punches to kicks he executed them flawlessly. The bag even seemed to fly further back than in the videos. He could play musical pieces after one watch. Hell, he even could mimic paintings of random videos he found by just following their movement. Max thought this was insane, being able to do something after watching it once?

Doing as teenagers do with unchecked power. Max began pouring this into his life to earn accolades. He earned the same score as one of the smartest people in his class. Hell, he even entered a few amateur martial arts tournaments in his area and stormed through the competition. At the end he was disqualified, the judges refusing to believe he's an 'amateur'. Many of the family friends were stumped. How in the world was this failure now suddenly began prospering.

Though subtle this 'change' was also noticed by FAMA. Suddenly being able to do all these impressive feats overnight was definitely odd, like a switch had been flipped. FAMA has had close contact with his parents, as Max's father was a top donator to the organization. FAMA had requested that the parents ask their child of anything that had caused this switch. Max had no reason to lie so he came clean and told his parents, who were shocked. Their son had become a deltahuman, somehow. At their discretion he was to attend Academy 003. Though he felt 'unfit' to join, he still acquiesced to his parents desire and joined the academy.

Power Evaluation

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═══P O W E R E V A L U A T I O N═══

"Nice moves... was it like this?"
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▼ CLASSIFICATION:

Type-Yellow

▼ POWER INFORMATION:
Photographic Reflexes:

This is also known as 'Adoptive Muscle Memory'. In essence it allows Max to mimic and copy any and all movements or action only after observing it once. As long as it is a physical movement, Max can copy the action during or after the action had been performed once. He required no practice or training to pull off the copied movement. It can range from any dynamic movement from martial arts, to playing musical pieces, mastering complex gymnastic movements to even painting masterpieces as long as he has something to mimic. He also found that his perception is much more sharp and acute compared to before, making it somewhat easier to dodge hits he thought were 'fast' before.

Limited Superspeed:

Copying a play from a comic book he read, he loaded up a youtube video of a martial arts kick and played it at 2x speed. He wondered if he could 'mimic' the sped up video. In short, he could. However, much like the figure he copied it from he can't do this long. The kick he performed was the same speed but it caused much more pain and soreness to do the kick than it normally should have. Max isn't entirely sure how long he could 'mimic' those sped up videos but he figured it'd be minutes at most. Currently he is looking for away to extend his time.

Very Limited Voice Mimicry:

Max was unsure how he even got this one but he found that if he observed a person's neck whilst speaking he'd have a limited ability to be able 'mimic' their speech and get a similar-ish sounding voice from the person he was mimicking.

▼ LIMITS:

Max's mimicry only extends to physical tasks. Naturally he can't copy any other powers. He may be able to watch a person with super-strength bend a solid steel pole in half, but he's unable to copy the 'super-strength' portion. In essence it's limited to what the body can (realistically) achieve.

▼ WEAKNESSES:

Max MUST be able to see the action happening, otherwise he wouldn't be able to replicate it. Blinding him is a pretty simple way to block out his power temporarily.

It is physically and mentally draining to continuously mimic and copy new movements from others. It'll tire him out eventually if he were to use moves over and over.

Other Information

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═══O T H E R I N F O R M A T I O N═══

"Pfft, some family friends, mouths started singing another tune as soon as I got this damned power."
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- Has two cats at home. Has tried to mimic their movement but all he got was lazy cat stretching.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

Sadon Fendrel

Sadon Fendrel

Frontal view

Sex
Male

Age
24

Height
5'9"

Species
Human

Volunteered Or Sentenced
Sentenced

Physical Abnormalties
A gash that runs fron his left ear to his chin. Usually unnoticeable as he drapes a scarf over his neck.

Need-To-Know Information
- Comes from a prestigious military family that produce alot of well-known and decorated individuals.
- Hushed whispers/rumors state that Sadon had committed the treasonous sin of 'Envy'.

* Edited some stuff into Need-To-Know.

Red Hoods: Little Red Riding Hood

Yup this sounds like my kinda thing, interest!

Rengoku

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Entering the building was disorienting, to say the least. With the distinct smell of incense and the darkness of the room making Rei lose his bearings. He squinted his eyes, looking for something tangible he could see before a voice spoke against the darkness. The voice was oddly fitting considering the mystique of the situation. His hand unconsciously gripped his crossbow, he paced slowly toward the voice.

"Welcome, moon and star."

"Moon and Star, huh?" Rei whispered to no one in particular. The blue flame drew his gaze. From what little the flame illuminated, Magnolia looked very similar to a stereotypical gypsy portrayed by Hollywood. It was a little amusing. Her hand moved above a circular object with a peculiar shine. At the very least the situation piqued his interest.

"I've been expecting you. You've come a long way. Care to reveal your fate?"

"Oh, have you? Well. It wouldn't hurt. What do you think Étoile?" he said, keeping it to himself that she found her words curious. Particularly the 'come a long way' bit, because as far as he could tell, he hadn't left this town at all. It might be worth listening to this woman after all.

MENTIONED: @Hero.

Unto the Abyss: Fantasy with a touch of Eldritch

Interest!

Rengoku

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Rei atleast had to see their efforts through. Fortunately he didn't have to follow far, with them just crossing the street. Though he couldn't hear anything, when they came out with their heads hanging low, the outcome was clear. With their downtrodden selves he could not help suppress a pang of pity and even a trace of guilt. Still, he was glad to be handed the book. It would be much easier to write down his thoughts and understanding. His mind wrapped back to the the woman they had chosen to 'confess' to. She was peculiar, to say the least. The building was magnetic, almost beckoning him to visit. It wouldn't hurt, the world has magic of sorts. He could always ask Anton about the odd man with the shield later.

"Oi, nerd. Is what you're writing so important that you'd really rather have a notebook than coin?"

The half-blood realized that she was referring to him. "Oh, right you were still here. Thought you'd gone off after receiving the coin." he replied, "Firstly, it's Rei. Secondly, it's to help me... wrap my head around particular things."

He rifled through his pockets, taking out a folded piece of paper that he handed to the girl. Inside was a rough drawing of his crossbow, showing its particular parts and some notes like effective force output and similar. "With that, I can repair my weapon by myself provided I have the specific tools."

"That aside," he said, "What d'you think of that woman they confessed to?"

MENTIONED: @Hero