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Echoing. Ringing. Piercing. Terrible, tragic silence as if the audio and video of a film had become desynced. Static filled his senses and the taste of metal filled his mouth. The blizzard had calmed and the ice had thawed as Fubuki stood still, frozen in place by the image in front of him. He was worn out, all of his energy spent, unable to continue fighting and yet this world seemed uncaring of his exhaustion. The winged nightmare aside, the glass he had finally managed to shatter was already attempting to reform itself, or worse. Death seemed to only stall the beasts of this plane. Torn between two reactions, fight or flight, Fubuki was paralyzed with indecision.

This is why I don't play wizards in D&D man. Getting ambushed when you're out of spell slots sucks. What do I even do in this situation? Do I have one enemy or two? I just need a moment to rest, to breathe. Where are my exit points? Is this really the best I can do? Can the other two get away on their own? If I could only have a second.

When was the last time I've been this tired? Is the rabbit kid able to move? How long have I been standing here? Why can't I feel my legs? I need some time. Can I even afford to worry about them right now? How long would it even take for me to recover after doing something like that? Is this how I die? Can I let them die in my place? Just a moment.

10 of Watchers.

Velocity. Distance over Time. Zeroed Formulas. Quantum entanglement.

The prismatic shards that were swirling together froze in midair, as if time had simply stopped for them. A golden opportunity that Fubuki was naught to waste. There was no guarantee that the shards would stay frozen nor that the angel wouldn't interfere in some way. The other two seemed unable to act as one was wracked with pain and the other frozen at the sight of the winged guest just as he was moments ago. Fubuki dashed over to the other two, panting from fatigue, lungs burning as he struggled to breathe. Even if every organ in his body decided to fail, his strength refused to give out when there was still a battle to be won. He picked up his two compatriots as gently as he could with his rigid arms without stopping and continued down the nearest hallway. He could tell his senses were dulling as his head pounded from this place's incessant buzzing.

As quickly and as far as he could go, Fubuki ran until his vision was too blurred to tell if he was even going straight anymore. Hoping that he had succeeded in putting some distance between them and danger, he looked at the wolf girl and attempted the closest thing his form could to a reassuring smile.

"Give me just a moment to catch my breath... and I'll... be able... to keep... figh-"

Fubuki passed out, no longer able to keep his body standing.
In The Seven 24 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Friendly notice that there is a light and hefty version of the character sheet. The hefty is optional if you don't want to do that much.

Brann Lohgtroen

Pronounced Brawn Low-True-In

Faith... What is Faith really?
The belief in others, in a higher power, humility, and trust.
You must be willing to accept that someone may be stronger than you.
You follow these bright individuals, LIKE MOTHS TO A FLAME


22 Prior To Slumber ─ March 27th

M ─ Agender ─ He/Him

5’5” ─ 146 lbs ─ A+


Compassionate ─ Trusting ─ InspiringCritical ─ Perfectionist ─ Worrisome

Brann was the youngest of the Seven, and was one of the last to join them. Before his recruitment, he looked up to the others has heroes that had his utmost faith. Once he joined, he followed their every step until he followed them into a trap. But even then, he called out to his allies to have faith. Faith that this would not be the end, faith that they would escape the fate they were given.

Now, with his reawakening, Brann has become deeply resentful of the people who betrayed him. Deeming the council to be blasphemers who deserve to grovel at the Seven's heels and beg for forgiveness. He is deeply critical of others, and holds them to their ideals and demands perfection of adherence to them. Those that don't are hypocrites and traitors to themselves that don't deserve to have their problems solved. He views the weak as those that need to give in more to their faiths if they want to become stronger, and the strong as prideful assholes that have no faith in others. Brann himself has lost faith in everyone but the Seven and there is no longer any winning his favor.

Pansexual ─ Panromantic

Watching His Friends Be Happy ─ Cooking With Idunn ─ Hero Stories

Hypocrites ─ People Giving Up On Him ─ The Smell Of Alcohol


Soul, Purely

Brann has had faith in his simplistic fire magic his entire life. Unable to afford an education, he never learned the ways of Heat, Glow, or Spark and thus didn't have the foundations to understand the Celestial Texts on Passion, Ferocity, and Rebirth. Instead, he refined Soul into heightened forms until its power, and the drawbacks that come with it, rivaled Celestial Magic.

Brann does not minor in Shape, Fluid, or Breath. More accurately, he is unable to use earth, water, or air magic but instead utilizes the concepts within the three other traditions to alter how he interprets Soul and his stronger spells rely on multiple of these changes to function. Through Shape, he can give form and structure to his flames allowing him to ignore the typical physics that fire answers to. Through Blood, he can give his flames a mind of their own causing them to move independently like a beating heart. Through Breath, he can give substance to his flames and detach them from himself allowing them to sustain themselves as opposed to continuing to drain his Vitanima. With a Pure Soul, he can ignore even the Carnal aspect, Fire, and instead interact with a being's soul directly to damage or manipulate it.

The following are staples within his arsenal, but barely describes what he is capable of. His Contingent-equivalent spells ignore the notes, and his Celestial-equivalent spells ignore the abstracts. It is pure soul, strengthened by pure faith.

Cardinal Level:
Soul Given Shape: Brann summons hardened fire that takes on a crystalline appearance, but unlike crystal does not have shatter lines and instead has the rigidness of metal. This fire can be melded into weapons or shields that still burn with the full intensity of fire. Thus, only those who have a core of soul can wield them without having to withstand the heat.

Soul Given Blood: Flames extend along the floor around Brann, creeping over an substance it comes into contact with. Brann can also use this spell to throw a flame-blob that will cause a similar, put smaller-area, effect at a distance.

Soul Given Breath: A breathing flame self sustains itself, and Brann uses this to light never-ending fires. They can still be put out as normal, but otherwise they no longer need a fuel source to keep burning.

SoulBurn: Soul refined by soul, Brann's sends a firebolt out towards an enemy. Instead of igniting their flesh or clothes, it burns their soul. Only another mage with capable healing can relieve the pain, and those who die from its effects can only be revived if their soul is extinguished, as the burning keeps them dead. Brann developed this technique to combat the endless waves of dark entities that seemed to only return to the void and come back healed up or even stronger than before. This spell was meant to be a final end to the deathless dark.

Contingent Level:
The Tears of Cassiel: Soul given Shape to form piercing needles of fire, and Blood to act independently, Brann assaults his enemies with seeking projectiles that he must still sustain with his Vitanima but doesn't need to direct or command. The flames pierce through targets and continue on to further enemies, leaving those with lacking magical defenses no rest as they must keep moving to avoid them.

The Storm Of Barachiel: Soul given Blood and Breath, Brann superheats his fire, separating the breath between air and creating a vacuum directly around the flame, he then extends this space outwards like veins extending from a heart until it makes contact with something. The heat and energy looking for somewhere to go, quickly races across this line and becomes plasma. Not quite lightning, but similar, the plasma ball slams into his enemies and explodes.

The Armies Of Michael: A Soul, given a Shape and the ability to Breath, is almost equivalent to a living creature. No Fluidity to think, Flame Elementals are summoned to fight alongside Brann but he must command them in order for them to act.

The Judgement Of Azrael: Soul itself. No flames, no heat, no glow, no spark. Brann grips another beings soul and rends it from their body. This doesn't kill, but will leave the target unconscious until their soul can recover. Brann must make physical, skin-to-skin, contact with his target to use this ability. Directly connecting his soul to theirs.

Celestial Level:
The Flames Of Jophiel: The prime Soul spell, given Shape, Blood, Breath, and refined with Brann's own soul, this spell represents the aspects of a true knight. Protection and Justice:
  • The Gates of Eden: Brann conjures a dome that moves on its own with a desire to protect as many of his allies as possible. Enemies will need to expend substantial Vitanima simply to enter the Gates, but will immediately ignite and continue to burn from the flames intended to protect even God.
  • The Flaming Sword: Brann conjures a two sided blade at the end of his staff, made of the strongest flames that Brann can produce. The ultimate weapon of Justice, the blade thinks for itself and will extend to whatever range is necessary to strike his enemies.

The Fall Of Samael: A new spell created during the 50-year entrapment, this spell infuses Soul not with Shape, Blood, or Breath but instead with the dark void itself. Black Flames coat Brann's body, slowly consuming his flesh and infusing all of his spells while active with Hellfire. These flames do not go out, inflict SoulBurn, and cause those on fire to feel any pain that Brann experiences. As the target's soul is damaged, so is there Vitanima, restricting their ability to cast spells. In the case of SoulBurn itself, those who perish from a Hellfire SoulBurn have their soul consumed by the void, lost forever to empower Daemonium. Those that are under the effects of both his virtue key and hellfire experience both the drawbacks that Brann does and feel the pain doubled due to experiencing Brann's pain. With a loss of Vitanima, and suffering enough drawbacks to not want to use spells anyways, this spell is intended to be used as a final stand. Either the target is dying if they cannot withstand the suffering, or Brann will die as his own spell consumes him.

The Blade Of Uriel

Looking much more like a Mage's staff than a sword, this blade served Brann faithfully as his standard through which he gathered other's belief in him and his abilities. The more the people loved him and cheered for him, the stronger he would become and the hotter his flames would burn. As long as the people had faith, Brann could borrow their Vitanima to charge the staff. By doing so, his magic could be empowered into their stronger forms with significantly less risk as the burden of any drawbacks would be shared by hundreds.

However, the void has demented this power and removed its demand for consent. The more you disdain him, hate him, blasphemy against him; the more you subconsciously feed him your own might. Similarly, his enemies' pride will ultimately be there downfall, as to think you're better than him is blasphemy in and of itself. The blade now draws power from fewer targets and no longer shares the burdens of magic, but instead increases them and forces both him and the target of his Vitanima vampirism to suffer these greater effects.

Journaling Everything ─ Learning New Recipes ─ Magemanship


Cardinal ─ His Cardinal spells come with very little drawbacks but without the ability to utilize alternate expressions of Soul, Brann must rely on his skill manipulating the Core identity of Soul and the other traditions
Contingent ─ His Contingent level spells usually cause Brann nosebleeds or small cuts. In addition, each spell has its own unique drawback due to Brann having to play by the rules of multiple traditions at once.
Celestial ─ His Celestial level spells cause Brann's eyes to mildly bleed or large cuts to appear on his body. The Flames of Jophiel doesn't have any additional drawbacks, but relies on Brann's Virtue Key to function. No staff, no blade or dome. The Fall of Samael constantly adds more suffering, every spell altered by it's effects has double the cost and while the damage accrues over time, Brann takes equivalent damage to casting a Celestial Level Spell every 30 seconds this spell is active.

The Blade Of Uriel isn't really a weapon at all. It is a mage's staff that come with all of the same drawbacks a mage would normally suffer, but without heightened spell-casting in return. It relies entirely on the feelings of others in order to function and requires a Celestial level spell in order to bring out its capabilities as a weapon.

Being Hated ─ Running Out Of Chances ─ Outliving His Fellow Seven

Brann is not a fighter. He's quick and cunning, but he lacks a warrior's strength. Just like his Virtue Key, he struggles to be physically useful in combat without utilizing The Flames of Jophiel. Even then, Brann relies on the fact that the spell grants him a massive range and the flaming sword can't be blocked. An enemy that gets close could easily control the staff and thus the spell, or even wrest it from his hands.



Daemonium ─ Savior/Master ─ Faithful
Temp ─ Fellow KnightIdolized/Uncertain
Aleksei ─ Fellow KnightIdolized/Trusts/Close
Haoran ─ Fellow KnightIdolized/Fair
Idunn ─ Fellow Knight ─ Idolizes/Trusts/Respects/Very Close
Miriam ─ Fellow Knight ─ Trusts/Close
Merete ─ Fellow Knight ─ Respects/Fair

Council Of The Elders ─ Leaders ─ Betrayed/Vengeful

The Seven ─ A group of knights, formerly tasked with defending the empire from a dark magical threat. ─ The Fifth Virtue, Faith
The Knights ─ The group that every knight operates under, controlled by the empire ─ The Seven (highest legion of knights)
The Holy Church of Virtue ─ The main church operating within the Imperial Capitol ─ Bishop serving the Leading Cardinal


Born into poverty within the Capitol, Brann grew up in the alleyways with only his mother to support him. She would tell him the tales of heroes and the knights and these stories left him with wonder and awe as opposed to resentment and suffering like most in his conditions. His mother passed when he was 12, and the street-life didn't suit him. He couldn't steal, or beg, or scrounge. So Brann relied on the stories he was told and sought to join the knights. He was turned down, obviously, and was put into the care of the church. There, he would learn of Faith and had access to information about the knights.

Brann practiced his magic, focusing his faith into his flames each day. Getting better and better as time went on. He learned of Aleksei, and wanted to care for people as he did. He learned of Haoran, and wanted to be skilled with a blade as he was. He learned of Idunn, and wanted to inspire people with his words as she did. They became his idols. Once The Seven was formed, He learned of Temp and wanted to know anything about them.

His desires helped him grow in ranking until he was awarded the status of Bishop. At that point, he attempted his greatest feat. Brann cast The Flames of Jophiel, a Celestial level spell, and nearly died doing so. However, the power could not be denied and the Council took notice. With some help to control the drawbacks of his spells, Brann would be the first mage since the age of myth to create a Celestial spell. Thus, he was recruited into The Seven and his faith was rewarded.

Action Begets Action

As if hearing his thoughts, the boy acted right when Fubuki realized he'd need assistance. However, instead of taking the girl and running like he had hoped, the boy charged in to attempt to help. He seemed small and frail but determined, like an angry bunny stomping its foot to get attention. Wires extended from the boys fingers, aiming for the creature's neck. Fubuki pushed the creature back so that the wires wouldn't risk hitting him when they wrapped around mirror-face's throat. He continued his push as wire-boy yanked it away, allowing him to stand safely without getting counter-struck. Fubuki couldn't help but feel angered by the assumption that he needed help, he felt as though this fight was his victory if only the two he was protecting weren't in his way. For them to get more in his way, and take away his opponent, his prey, was almost insulting. He watched as shards of glass were sent flying into the air as they were razored off by the boy's wires.

What does he think he's doing, his wires aren't even hurting it and there's nothing stopping the beast from charging him now. Wires keep it from running away, not from coming at you. And all this glass in the air is going to become a problem eventually. If you're going to fight, FIGHT! Otherwise, that's my prey!

Shards of ice coalesced at the same time as the shards of glass. So Fubuki didn't notice the ice prism form on the creature's shoulder. Instead he watched the bullets being formed, not how he thought the glass shards would become a problem but he felt vindicated none the less. Half of the bullets were aimed at the weaker pair he was supposed to be protecting, but the other half were aimed at him. He would just have to hope that these idiots could defend themselves from whatever kind of attack this thing is about to do. The beast roared as the glass fluctuated with energy, and Fubuki instinctively jumped to dodge the bullets. The projectiles' launches were staggered, and one of the later shots hit the airborne deer in the leg. He expected shock, pain, anything to happen, but all he felt was an impact as planes of ice fell away from his leg. Fubuki wasn't strong enough to hurt the creature without a proper strike, and it faced the same issue trying to hurt him.

"When you have your opening, attack! And don't hold back!"

He looked down at the boy, and the girl that had come up to defend him. It seemed that they could take care of themselves after all. Fubuki felt an energy run through him as he descended as if getting closer to them empowered him. They wanted him to give his all, and he had no objections to that idea. He took the energy he was feeling, and through it felt what he already had. He focused his thoughts and energy into his undamaged leg, the ice falling away from him and orbiting around his leg. The ice crystallized and formed a massive, frozen chunk on his heel. Fubuki righted himself as this was happening, and lifted his foot above his head as the chunk formed. As he landed, he brought his foot down onto the mirror-face's head in an axe-kick. The ice he had gathered shattered from the impact. "Didn't plan on it."

Edited. Finished Wips, added a new spell, reworded a few things to account for Blood over Fluid naming, and added some more text to Applications before his spell list.

With his magic, I'm wanting it to technically all be fire magic, but fire magic that he has honed to be so formidable that it has gained equivalent strength and drawbacks to Contingent Magic in the form of Inferno and Celestial Magic in the form of The Flames of Jophiel. If that's not okay, I'll make changes of course.

Coolio, Faith being the opposite of Pride via being the antithesis of blasphemy is an idea I can work with! I'll see about making a CS this weekend.
I'm interested in joining this, however I'm not used to Faith, Hope, and Fortitude being listed as virtues so I'd like to know which sin they're the opposite of. Especially since I'm not interested in Chastity so that only leaves Faith to pick.

Prey Upon The Weak

The walls of the room had been moving just a moment ago. Fubuki hadn't noticed due to more pressing concerns such as the strange glass-man and equally strange but less-threatening wolf-girl, but when they stopped the contrast made it evident. It was as off the very space they occupied had become scared of him, and the monster in front of him reacted similarly. He watched as it stiffened up, the reflections within its face getting smaller like when someone's pupils constrict out of shock. The smell of sand reached Fubuki; glass was odorless and yet he smelled sand as if the glass was shivering and cracking, degrading into its previous form. The monster turned away from him to face the boy that he had previously heard, and that made him certain. Three versus one, the loner will always aim for the weakest link and yet there was no notable difference between the girl and the boy, so why change his target when he was already after the girl?

The glass-man was scared.

Fubuki grinned, the opening of his maw reaching farther down his face then he would've thought. Returning to all fours, he charged the beast and pounced onto its back. One hand had a clawed grip on its left shoulder, and the other grapped its chin and lifted its head up as he leaned over from its back. "Don't you know you're supposed to face your fears?" Fubuki asked, the end of his speech being said with a low growl. The glass-man reached its right arm up to strike at its back but Fubuki was expecting that and an advantageous position. He let go if its head and grabbed its arm, and using its own weight already leaning onto its left, pulled hard to roll them both over onto the ground.

His advantage didn't last long, his grip onto the shoulder was just enough to keep him from falling off its back and he only had one arm pinned. He also had no idea how this creature was capable of moving. The laws of physics don't hold here and this creature wasn't organic in nature, its limbs didn't need worry about ripping flesh and muscle. Its pinned arm spun around in its socket, the monster now facing Fubuki and struck its claws down towards him. He rolled out of the way and quickly grappled its other arm. With both arms held, Fubuki and the creature continued to wrestle for control on the ground. Fubuki was physically stronger, but he couldn't ignore the laws of anatomy like this thing could. He knew he'd have to try and land a kick on this thing, and so he allowed it to get above him in order to get his legs positioned. He kicked upwards and hit the glass-man squarely in the stomach. He heard glass shatter, but felt nothing but a brick wall under it. Fubuki could crack its shell like this, but not really hurt the beast.

Damn it, I can't hurt it without putting my whole body behind my strikes. And I can't do that without getting up. And I can't do that without letting this thing get a pot shot off on me and go after those other two. All I can do is hold it here until they run away.

Orientation Lost

Foundation Gained

Before any processing could be done, reality shifted around Fubuki and dropped him off in a new location. He felt more connected, more grounded to this place then before but something was off besides the change in scenery. He followed the path in front of him, until he reached the first new intersection and then he realized what was wrong. The deer was gone, but Fubuki guessed that it must have been left behind wherever he had come from and was probably also questioning the boy's disappearance. He wondered which path he was supposed to follow, but that was answered for him when he heard a loud, shrill screech like nails on a chalk-board or a sharp instrument carving into glass.

"Not that way," he attempted to think aloud but realized that it had come out more as Naawt taah ay in a deeper growl. Reaching for his throat, feeling that it was sore, Fubuki saw a clawed hand reaching for him and he flinched. As did the hand. It, no, most of Fubuki's body was covered in a frost blue pelt that was coated in ice. The fingertips were hairless, and no ice covered them, and so he could see the shriveled skin that revealed the shape of his bones underneath. This body was corpse-like and his breath was cold, so cold that it created a fog in the air in front of him. Then he noticed that all of him was surrounded in a similar but thinner mist, his entire body was chilling the air around him. He was further from the ground, and his legs were bent awkwardly like a deer's. It reminded him of a horror story he knew was big in the west. The screech from before still rang in his mind, and he felt it reverberate his entire new form. This body wanted to fight and Fubuki guessed that if he was going to get any answers about what happened to him, then he'd have to cooperate.

Rushing towards the noise, it continued to ring in his head. It plagued him as if begging to be silenced. Fubuki turned a corner and could see movement down the hall. He then heard a girl's voice panicking and soon after a boy's voice commanding something but he wasn't close enough to make out words. He knew he had to get there quickly, and his elongated arms offered him a faster option. He began running on all fours, galloping into the room. He noticed the odd creature clawing its way out of the wall and towards a, wolf, girl, wolf-girl? Fubuki raised his body back onto its legs and stood upright. He wanted to shout at the beast to get its attention, but what came out instead was a chilling howl that even caused Fubuki to metaphorically shiver. Although his new form seemed unfazed by the sound.
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