Lazo

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Too many inside jokes, I guess. Anyway, from now on, this is the theme music whenever Celica and Alice are having a conversation:

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

*Alice rolls dice*

1. Critical Failure. Alice and all characters currently near her suffer an INT penalty.

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Celica took a pause in scanning the document in front of her to take a sip from her cup of coffee, the liquid scorching as it flowed down her throat. Then her gaze turned back to the paper, brows knitting together in an irritated frown.

As she walked to the site specified by the announcement, coffee in one hand, paper in the other, and duffel bag hanging from her shoulder, she repeatedly paused in her examination to frustratedly simmer on the Academy’s lack of respect for its own schedule. After yesterday’s morning session, being woken up earlier than she had planned, by an announcement which she could only imagine preluded more of the same torture as before did not have a positive effect on her mood. The previous day’s clothing had been replaced by new, clean apparel, but she wondered how long that would survive.

She had assumed the papers in her hand would provide some amusement, but, while clearly written in Alice’s taut handwriting, all hard lines, there was a notable absence of the loose tongue she imagined had led to the paperwork being rejected. In fact, there was nothing she could see in the writing itself that was out of place.

“This is starting to annoy me,” she commented, idly, forcing her lips into a crooked smile.

“What is?” Alice asked, cocking her head to one side slightly in curiosity.

Celica shook the paper in her hand. “I can’t see what keeps getting you turned down. I mean, even if you were giving them hate mail, we are walking nukes. What would the problem be with shipping a gun?” She looked back at the form and grimaced distastefully. “For how long have you been trying to get this done?”

Alice shrugged in defeat, “About once a month for eight or nine months. I keep getting this ‘your request could not be processed’ type response. It’s infuriating.”

“I can imagine…” For a moment, Celica had the strangest urge to empty the rest of her drink on to the document, if only so she didn’t have to look at it any more. Then something struck her. “Wait, so you weren’t actually getting rejected.”

Alice stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Celica, “What do you mean?” she demanded.

Celica turned to look at her. Suddenly, it was Alice’s head she wanted to dunk the scalding coffee on. “If they were denying your requests, they would have explicitly said so. ‘Could not be processed’ is the kind of automated response one gets when there’s a mistake in the paperwork.” She turned to look at the paper, and the problem was so glaringly obvious she wondered how she could not have noticed it at first glance. “Alice, you’re trying to get permission to mail a gun over. Why are you addressing it to the Human Resource Management office?”

Alice looked blankly at Celica, then to the letter in her hand, then back to Celica, and snatched the letter, reading it with a scowl. “I don’t see the issue.” She admitted with a grumble, “But I’m guessing it’s not with my prose.”

“They don’t deal with that stuff, of course you’re not going to get anything out it if you ask them.” Celica started walking again, one hand massaging her temple. “And you’ve been doing this for a year?” She didn’t know whether she should laugh herself silly or cry.

Alice then heard Celica’s words about Human Resources, which somehow had managed to completely slip by her. “Wait. Wait. I’ve been addressing this to the Human Resources office?”

“Yes,” she told her, curtly.

Alice smacked her forehead in exasperation, “You know, you’d think after all the training I’ve had, I would notice what people say. And what I write on letters.”

“One would think,” Celica agreed, dryly. They were almost to the rendezvous point, and the murmur of conversing student’s slowly began drifting into earshot. “But you’ve never been about doing what’s expected, now have you?”

“Expectation is subjective. Some people might’ve expected me to do something, who knows?” Alice shot back.

“Well, I can’t believe you expected to get your gun out of this. And you did it, what? Ten times? I can’t get over it.” Celica shook her head disbelievingly. There was something here to be said about insanity, but she could not recall the quote.

“это пиздец,” Alice grumbled, “How the hell do I not notice this? You’d think that in this day and age you wouldn’t even have to handle paper, but no, you still have to bother with a pen, paper, and apparently having one wrong digit in a number.”

She leaned against the wall, sighing in exasperation. “Well, guess I’ll fix the address. Thanks.” She said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably a little.

As they reached the waiting area, Celica took a gulp of her coffee, letting out a long sigh. “Don’t mention it. Really. I should be making fun of you, but I don’t even want to think about it anymore,” she added, dropping her bag against the wall.

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Don't worry. Compared to the waiting times in some other RPs I've taken a part in, a weekend post is almost too soon. Anyway, we're trying to get a post up with Mono and Nim. Should be ready to post either later today or tomorrow, I'd think, and then you can move the scene to wherever it needs to be.

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

A pair of dueling violins drowned the soft humming of the engine as the carriage sped along its path, passing in front of stores, restaurants, and apartments. It was a veritable shopping district. People hustled and bustled with the rhythm of a living, breathing city, and the green of bushes and trees planted all along the path gave the place an open feeling that made it difficult to believe the area was enclosed within a building.

Celica yawned tiredly, stretching protesting arms before glancing around the carriage. There were other people in the cart with her, but none she could give a name to. Maybe a face or two she remembered seeing somewhere else, but she could be mistaken. The Academy was vibrant, true, but at times there was a certain anonymity to places as crowded as this, and many new faces had moved in with the coming year.

Her eyes roamed back to the window, momentarily glancing at her translucent reflection. Clear blue eyes stared back, half-lidded. Dark, straight black hair fell down past her shoulders, framing a pretty face of pale complexion, one of those that remained that way regardless of how much sun one shone down on it. She had taken comfortable clothes that day, some of her favorites. Boots, loose, gray cargo pants and a white, form-fitting t-shirt completed her ensemble. A black, sooty line covered a good chunk of the shirt’s left shoulder.

Letting out a soft groan that drew a couple of curious looks, she leaned back on her seat, closing her eyes. The feeling of the carriage decelerating and the announcement that it was her station interrupted her respite.

It was with the dancing strings of an acoustic guitar in the background that she left the carriage, pausing to glance as the other people left the car before following in a sedate pace. She pulled her phone out as she walked, checking the time, then fiddling with it, occasionally looking up to make sure she was not about to collide with someone else, music shifting times and genres as she went.

At an intersection, she noticed another person out of the corner of her eye. She looked up from her device to the familiar face, and accidentally brushed a button in the screen. Immediately, the music’s volume exploded, and Celica started, quickly clawing the earpiece out of her ear, where it continued to blast the chords of an electric guitar loud enough to be heard from the other end of the hall until she shut it off.

“Hey, Alice,” she greeted with a wry smile, returning the phone and its earpiece to her pockets. “How has the first day been treating you?”

“Nice music.” Alice smiled wryly, “Needs a few more more cats on a stretching rack though.” She walked down the hall in the rigid manner she usually had, as though being casual had been an alien concept until she’d been old enough to look it up. “Heading for the mess I presume?”

“I ate earlier. Thinking of the dorms, actually.” She fell in step with the other woman. “I was thinking of heading to one of the gyms, but after this morning…” She trailed off with something between a grimace and a smile. “I’m not sure I want to do anything else today.”

“Benefit to spending your early life doing nothing but work and exercise- it pays off later on.” She looked over at Celica, “I mean, some of those poor bastards threw up whatever they’d eaten for breakfast and dinner last night. Trust me, I’ve talked with enough veterans of just about any war that’d still have living veterans, take a nap when you can.”

“You don’t need to tell me. One puked on me while Shifted.” She rubbed at the black blotch on her shirt. “They did it to the lower years too. I did not think being a Teacher Assistant for Combatives would involve dragons breathing fire on you.”

“I suppose there are benefits to not being expected to do much but stab and blast people at close range and occasionally make sure nobody’s dying of blood loss.” Alice snickered, raising a hand halfway to cover a cavernous yawn. The day had been completely enervating, even for somebody who’d been fully expecting it like herself.

She walked up to the designated area for waiting for the miniature trams to pull up, reclining against a wall to wait. “So, anything particularly exciting happen today aside from exhaustion?”

Celica looked down to her shoulder, then fixed Alice with a blank stare. After a moment she shook her head and sat on one of the available benches, resting her elbows on her knees. “No. You?”

“I suppose trying to figure out how magical weapons work beyond ‘Magic’” – she made air quotes – “might count. I mean, with the amount of training in guns I’ve had you’d think I’d have found my way to get something like you have, however you got them.”

“Magic,” she answered with a cheeky smile, before relenting before her scowl. “The guns are completely mundane, for the record. It’s the ammo that’s special. I could lend you some, if you need it.”

Alice raised an eyebrow, “I might just take you up on that.” she smiled with a hint of scheming in her eyes, “Only real obstacle is shipping prices.” She looked back over to Celica, “Assuming they’re not some specially manufactured materials, that would mean you probably make them yourself?”

Celica winked. “Give me bullets, I’ll give you magic bullets.”

“Because bullets are a common thing nowadays, of course.” Alice deadpanned, “Besides, you make things freeze, I prefer to burn them to a cinder.”

Celica snorted, then shrugged. “I’ll keep the good ammo to myself, in that case.”

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Mono and I are working on a small collab to bring in Celica. You could respond to that. Or join the collab.

Edit: There's a post. Celica and Alice are waiting in one of the 'train stations'. Mana could show up if she wants to, though for the most part there's only conversation going on for now, and one that might not be too interesting for her at that. Though I suppose magic in modern weapons could be a 'technology' she might find intriguing.

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Hm. Guess I should wait for you guys to collab before I get in? Can't say I'm against that, this next week is shaping up to be a nightmare.

I hate timezones. Let's see... It was 2:35am for Kap about 2 hours ago, when it was 5:35pm for me, so we're apparently 9 hours apart. That would make it noon for me tomorrow. Can't make it this time, even if I was needed.

Worlds Collide - A Futuristic Fantasy RP

Well, I'm finally satisfied with this character, so here is your new playmate. Please treat her well.

Celica Dancer

Subject Name: Celica Dancer
Gender: Female
D.O.B: 17 January 2550 (23)

Shifter Form: Yuki-anesa – Demon Variant

Physical Appearance: The patient’s height approaches the six feet, and her weight is consistent with that of a lean, healthy woman of her age*. She has straight, black hair flowing past her shoulders, clear blue eyes, and fair, pale skin. She is possessed of full lips, smooth cheeks, and a well-defined jaw. She has a straight body shape, with moderately sized chest and waist.

*Refer to the addendum for images and specific information regarding measurements.

Shifter Appearance: Compared to some of our previous patients, Miss Dancer’s appearance was not too drastically altered.

Her hair grew slightly longer, reaching her lower back, and her skin paled further, with her lips acquiring a bluish tint. The deathly pallor was worrisome, but there were no signs of malfunctioning equipment. There were no changes recorded in her height, build, and body mass after the procedure, nor was there any alteration of her basic features.

There were some rather striking changes, however. Her left eye’s sclera and pupil disappeared, leaving behind an icy blue, faintly glowing surface. The area surrounding that eye, from the cheek to near the scalp, were covered in what appeared to be a mask of jagged ice. The ridges, rather than growing haphazardly, seemed to sweep outwards, away from the center of her face, in a pattern mildly reminiscent of scales. A staff member, upon peering at the ice from a close distance, reported seeing what appeared to be patient’s cheekbone under the surface. She has taken to hiding the eye under a swath of black hair.

A similar occurrence can be seen in her hands. The flesh seems to have been replaced with ice as well, in a shape reminiscent of a plated gauntlet, up to the middle forearm. The ice at the fingertips concludes in sharp points, as if they were claws meant to pierce or cut into objects.

There were no more observable changes beyond that.

Subject Skills: Miss Dancer agreed to join the Twin Souls Project after completion of basic training, and as such has knowledge of basic marksmanship, survival skills, and first aid. Her profile notes that she has attended courses on various martial art disciplines over the years. She is also proficient in Spanish.

Shifter Capabilities: In this form, the patient displays an increase in speed and durability uncharacteristic among other subjects of similar compatibility. The current hypothesis is that this inconsistency may be related to the patient’s own nature, or previous experience.

As expected, the patient’s Shifter Form demonstrated a remarkable affinity to ice related magic, allowing her to freeze objects and sculpt and move ice to her wishes. Manipulation of frozen, water solutions has been shown to be possible, but attempts to manipulate frozen elements besides water have so far proven unsuccessful. Further testing proved the patient able to control gaseous matter to some degree, as was demonstrated by her ability to freeze objects beyond water, and what personnel have dubbed the ‘blizzard spell’. Attempts to refine this ability to the capacity seen in Silph-related Shifters has seen little success, and as such has been determined to be an extension of her previously mentioned abilities, using air as the solution.

The patient has also been known to dissolve into a cloud of mist. Beyond motion, her ability to interact with the world in this state has shown itself to be minimal, and we had to bring some of the Mythic personnel in order to reverse the transformation. With instruction and practice, the patient was shown to be capable of reversing the change under her own power.

The patient has shown the intriguing ability of being able to store a form of power into objects, a skill some of our Mythic experts have likened to enchantments. In practice, the patient has been able to bind spells in small items, or even tiles on the floor, and trigger them once certain conditions have been met. We foresee this ability to be particularly useful at the time of setting traps.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the efficiency of this form’s powers changes depending on the humidity and temperature of the environment **. In fact, in the most extreme temperatures of our testing, the patient was unable to reverse her mist form, and had to wait until the room was brought back to cooler temperatures to reassemble herself.

It may be of note that, following her transformation, the patient complained about irritation in her transformed eye. Moreover some of the male staff members reported feelings of unexplained anxiety after maintaining eye contact with the patient for some time, even with the transformed eye under cover. The feelings typically subsided after leaving her presence. The latter effect could be linked to the nature of the Mythic she has shown compatibility with, but we have not been able to form an hypothesis for the reason of the former discomfort.

To summarize, the patient is able to manipulate the motion and shape of ice, send out blasts of frigid wind, and dissolve into a cloud of mist. The patient’s abilities in enchantments seem to work by using objects as delayed focuses for her power. Enchantments placed on ammunition made large crystals expand from projectiles upon impact, encasing targets in ice. A similar enchantment placed on a section of the floor sprouted a jagged crystal upwards once pressure was applied to it. The patient has been unable to replicate these effects without making physical contact with these objects, be it by holding them in her hands, or at least stepping on them.

**Refer to addendum for testing procedures and data.

Background:
Excerpt from transcript of patient’s second interview with Dr. ————, post procedure:

C.D: Hello, Doctor. I’m here for my appointment?

Dr: Ah, good afternoon, Celica. Please have a seat. How are you adapting to your… new circumstances?

C.D: Well enough, I suppose. At the very least, I don’t accidentally freeze my food while eating anymore.

Dr: Does your eye still bother you?

C.D: Not like this. In Shifter form, however… I don’t know how to describe it. It doesn’t hurt, per se, at least not anymore. It’s like… an itch, I suppose.

Dr: I see. Perhaps it will subside with time, but be sure to notify the medical team if it ever becomes an issue. What about your other changes?

C.D: My hands feel odd as well when I’m that way. It’s like, it’s hard to feel anything with them. I can see them, and I can move them just fine, but beyond that, it almost feels as if they’re not there.

Dr: Have you experienced any pain coming from them?

C.D: No. No, I haven’t. Even when it feels like they should hurt.

Dr: Ah, I see. Your case resembles those of people who recently acquired prosthetics, and seeing these images of your Shifter Form, I can understand why. It is perfectly natural, and I expect you will grow used to the sensation with time. [Short pause] Has anything else been bothering you about your change? Any other strange feelings? Emotions?

C.D: I admit to feeling slightly insulted regarding my compatibility. A spirit who seduces men and leads them to their deaths?

Dr: I have been told that there are several versions of the Yuki-Onna’s tales.

C.D: Their saving grace.

Dr: [laughter] I suppose so. Is there anything else that feels odd to you?

C.D: No, I can’t think of anything else out of the ordinary. I feel fine.

Dr: Okay, okay. Fine is good. Could you remind me of your date of birth?

C.D: The 17th of January, 2550.

Dr: Place of birth?

C.D: Buenos Aires, Argentina. We lived there for a few years before my parents moved back to New York.

Dr: Good, good. And you were three years old when you moved? [pause] Good. Tell me about your life after that.

C.D: Haven’t we had this conversation before?

Dr: We have, but I would like to hear it again.

C.D: … where should I start?

Dr: Wherever you feel comfortable.

C.D: Wherever, huh… okay. I don’t really remember anything about South America, to be honest. I’ve lived in New York for most of my life up until now. The only reason I can speak some Spanish is because dad and mom would speak it around the house half the time. It was somewhat confusing when I was little. I spoke a lot of ‘Spanglish’ back then.

Dr: These were your parents, correct? Do I have their names right? [pause] Good. What were their occupations?

C.D: My mother was a translator. She usually dealt with older documents. Dad was military. A big, burly guy. He’s the reason why I was enrolled in so many martial arts classes. It drove mom crazy. She kept saying I was going to turn into a boy one of those days. Other than that… let’s see… school was school. Boring at best. High school was slightly more dramatic. At least up until the first attack.

Dr: What happened then?

C.D: My father was called into active duty. He did not make it back. We got a flag for it.

Dr: You have my condolences.

C.D: I told you the first time, it’s fine. I had time to grieve. Still, after that… it felt like the world had changed perspectives, in a way. I might not have turned out the way mom thought I would, but I was a big daddy’s girl, in a way. It hit me hard. It must have hit mom even harder, but she didn’t show much. She was always so strong…

Dr: I see. [pause] What about after high school? Did you have college lined up?

C.D: No. Nothing terribly interesting happened. I took a free year, backpacked across Europe, saw the sights, and thought a lot in general, mostly about where to go next. I went on my own. It hadn’t really been my intention, but after high school, most of the people I knew sort of… scattered, and I wanted to have different surroundings for some time.

Dr: What did you conclude after all this meditating?

C.D: There wasn’t a single conclusion or epiphany, to be honest. It’s rather frustrating, but, I don’t feel like there ever is for this kind of thing. At some point, I got it into my head that I should do like dad and join the army. It just felt… right. I guess I thought it would make me feel closer to him. And take me closer to the ones who took him.

Dr: That is understandable.

C.D: The hardest part of it was breaking the news to mom. She did not take it well, and I could understand. She had lost her husband to war, and here went her little girl charging into the breach.

Dr: What made you volunteer for this program?

C.D: Mechs weren’t much good against Endola, were they?

End of excerpt.

Personality:

Note: This space is not the subject’s psychological evaluation, but rather musings and observations taken by Dr. ———— during the patient’s stay at the facility.

Celica strikes me as a driven woman. She has an inquisitive mind, and the focus to match it, and the personnel has told me she was a pleasure to work with while determining the breadth and scope of her new capabilities. It would seem some of our volunteers are less fond of protocol than others.

However her focus and drive means that she is engaged when working, and seemingly worn out the rest of the time. She often seemed subdued while interacting with other applicants and staff members in her free time, but was roused in moments of mental or physical activity.

Celica seems to be a well-centered individual, confident in herself and her capabilities. She smiles often and easily, and seems to have a preference for wit and dry humor.

Miscellanea:

In the environment of the station, seeing familiar faces every day and the expecting tests and exercise, Celica often chose to wear more comfortable clothing. She often wore gray, loose cargo pants along with a plain, white t-shirt. Following the procedure, particularly while her body adjusted to her newfound power, she often carried a vivid blue parka lined with fur over the ensemble.

Celica is one of the few students in The Academy to make use of firearms. She is known to carry a pair of pistols holstered on a thick, black belt, usually carrying ammo enhanced with her magic.