Lugubrious

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

Bolstered by the impassive dignity that only powerful old men could boast, Whitesnake's face remained politely positive while Shade Walker ranted. With no miscommunication on his part, the recruiter knew that the only remaining difficulties found root in the nebulous villain's own pride and distrust, the latter of which Whitesnake knew would be proved unfounded in this case when his protege demonstrated her worth in the upcoming heist. He watched her go, meeting the eye of each ne'er-do-well present as if to ask them whether they had any problems with her. After a couple of moment she'd disappeared onto the ladies' room, leaving behind her mentor, an impression, and a Shade Walker with still more to say. ”Sir, I stand by my earlier statement. You'll find her courage and ability more than satisfactory.” He tilted his head just a touch to signal bemusement at his second statement. ”Ludmilla knows of East, but only recently. She grew up far away, hence the language barrier.”

Through his signature slitted green eyes, Whitesnake gauged the group's general reaction to his charge following her departure. Ryuuji, the dark teleporter, indicated not a problem but a willingness to help the new recruit with language. The brutal bruiser Kane appeared more enthusiastic about Ludmilla joining the group than Shade Walker, which Whitesnake found to be an interesting inversion. In the lull, Panopticon chose to make his appearance—eerie, inhuman, and businesslike as ever, he provoked some degree of discomfort from everyone in the room. He gave no indication that Ludmilla had come and gone at all, though Whitesnake would not have expected one. Also during this interlude, one of the doors in the back of the bar had opened to disgorge a disheveled scientist, who set about making herself a meager meal. Only toward the end of this task did she seem to take note of the newcomer, and Chika made a proposal as well. ”I had not imagined a team of soon-to-be bank robbers would be either so helpful or so linguistic.” Despite his standoffish tone, Whitesnake did not consider the offers a slight against himself as Ludmilla's mentor, and he decided that a little help could not go wrong. ”She reads and writes Russian,” he answered Chika's question.

A moment later, the bathroom door popped open and Ludmilla appeared. She still held her briefcase in hand, but this time it evidently contained her street clothes, because now the young woman wore a padded black-and-gray tactical suit, somewhat tight-fitting but overall highly practical. Her eyepatch had not been changed, but a rigid mask had appeared that covered her entire lower face, meshing well with the bottom of the patch. Altogether, she could be mistaken for a riot cop at first glance, but her ensemble gave her a hint of menace. After a few seconds of looking around, Ludmilla seemed to decide that the group wouldn't be heading out right this moment, so she reached up and pulled down the facemask to hang around her neck. With that done her focus lay on the two people she'd missed before: Panopticon and Chika. For the former she allotted only a wary glance, but the woman received a more thorough look. Clear lack of attention to personal care, glasses, hyper-pale skin, small size, zero musculature...everything about her screamed 'turbo-nerd.' Yet if she was here, she was a force to be reckoned with in some respect. Ludmilla's eye conveyed mixed feelings, and when she turned away to head back toward Whitesnake, she said aloud to him in Russian, ”If this tiny NEET girl is half as smart as she looks, she should know that red hair only looks good natural.” Tossing her briefcase on the floor, she seated herself at the bar, leaning on one elbow. Here, she could see pretty much everything going on inside, but the greater concern was the job that lay just ahead. This would be her moment; the only chance she'd get to show these people she could be a pro villain.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Azura
Level 1
Day 3
Location: 26th Floor of Tetris Castle, the Reception Hall
Experience: |||||||||| (0/10)

Even when made heavy by boots, the footfalls of the foreign princess walking the Tetris Castle's halls seldom made a sound. Over the last few days a great many new faces had arrived at this hub world, united by the common threat posed by the Mugen Virus, and among their ranks were featured unforgettable faces, unignorable attitudes, and attention-grabbing appearances. With all of the commotion caused by so many arrivals, few could devote their time to unimportant tasks, but all the same there came scattered reports of a woman nobody seemed able to commit to memory. They knew that bore breathtaking aquamarine hair, voluminous, long, and in splendid condition. If spotted at the training grounds, she was said to carry an ornamental spear as beauteous as herself. Yet this woman always seemed to slip away, first from the body and then from the mind, remembered only sparingly and in retrospect.

For her part, Azura did nothing to attract attention. This place was, after all, another castle. She knew the nature of royalty, their subjects, and how they behaved in response to a foreign princess whose silence and dignity came off as coldness and aloofness, making them think she thought she was their superior. A castle was a cold and uncaring domicile, a place of status rather than compassion. If one wasn't its master or the master's progeny, one could be expected to be treated like dirt, like a tool, like a pretty trinket brought out for display on special occasions, or in a certain someone's case, all three. When in Nohr, Azura found relief from the lonesomeness of her secluded chambers and the pointed looks of the kingdom's nobles in the markets and outdoors, where either commoners or nature were happy to receive her. There, she found that her songs sounded far better than in her recitals. Today, her first mission as a 'hero' would begin, and she was to be received by someone of the name of 'Vault Boy'. When she accepted the invitation of a strange turtle to come here, she hadn't imagined that she would be giving up the hospitality of the kingdom of Hoshido for a frontline war against some terrible menace, but Azura was determined to do some good in the world. It was time to demonstrate that she was neither a trinket nor a wallflower, but a heroine. As she approached the place of the meeting, therefore, she brought company: the Blessed Lance bestowed upon her by gracious Queen Mikoto of Hoshido, a memoir of the short but wonderful time she hadn't felt quite so alone.

The Reception Hall certainly lived up to the grandiosity Azura had come to respect from castles' public chambers. When she entered, her hand as gentle on the door as could be, there appeared to be nobody but servants and Vault Boy himself amid the fixings for a gratuitous feast. I'm the first, then. Since carrying a lance to a meal would be nothing short of preposterous, and bringing it here in the first place seemed a more brainless decision by the second, she decided to give a soldier's bow to her host. With a flourish of her weapon she executed the respectful gesture, which ended with Azura embedding the weapon's point in the tile floor just to the right of the door. I can play it off as a ceremonial act resulting from a somewhat militant background—it wouldn't be a lie. With that out of the way she returned to a far more unassuming posture, hands clasped behind her back and head bowed. ”Good day, sir. I am Azura, of the kingdom...of Hoshido, here in response to your summons.” Unfailing in her etiquette, she remained motionless as she stood, waiting for instruction and for the arrival of others before taking any further action. A gracious guest assumed nothing, after all.

Others arrived before long, at which point their diminutive host greeted them and bid them eat. His other utter words caught Azura's attention, making her wonder for a moment before she concluded with some certainty that he'd been joking. He didn't end up telling the group much other than that the proceedings would properly begin in five minutes. At Vault Boy's behest, she went ahead and approached the table. Barely had she seated herself before a Lemming appeared, offering her a selection of drinks. Avoiding the creature's gaze, she whispered, ”...Water, please.” Once he left, Azura gingerly reached out and grasped a roll from a nearby serving platter, which she began to nibble at. Even if provoked, she would do nothing to break her composure, though in fact she hadn't eaten since she arrived her yesterday. Either way, her focus lay first and foremost on the task that would soon be at hand, wrapping her head around her current situation and preparing herself.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

So this was the wrong side of the tracks.

Japan never failed to confuse Ludmilla. Its culture of strange honor, self-effacement, quiet manners, and downright bizarre eccentricities surprised her at every turn. Musutafu, though not one of the country's better-known metropolises, embodied that culture completely. Even here, in the supposed bad side of town, things seemed pretty clean and quiet. Were it not for her mission here today, she wouldn't guessed that this place contained a seedy underbelly of Quirk-using criminals, but it did, and one that apparently wanted her talents to boot. As she walked along the bleak street, one hand in her pocket and the other clamped around the handle of the briefcase that held her tactical gear, she glanced at the old man walking beside her and, for the umpteenth time, felt a surge of amazement at the individual who served as her mentor. 'Remarkable' didn't cut it; his consideration for her was evident in every detail. For instance, even now he sauntered along the sidewalk on her right side, which meant she could glance at him for reassurance -as she now did- without having to turn her head due to her sightless left eye. The words she heard half a year ago still hung on her mind.

”So here you are, Ludmilla,” he'd greeted in perfect Russian, astounding her from the get-go. ”Forgive me for being up-front, but I can see by the guarded look in your eyes that you're someone who has been used. I will be perfectly honest about my intentions, then. Call it honor among thieves, if you will. I am a lieutenant of Dark Tree, a criminal organization active in this city. It's my job to recognize young blood and valuable skills across all of Asia, and wherever possible, bring such people here to join our ranks. However, I have recognized in you something more. Your drive to prove yourself reminds me so very much of my granddaughter Emi, who left for America some time ago. I can tell that you, like her, need someone to look out for you, even if you don't want to admit it. You need not answer now, but if you'd have me, I would be delighted to think of you not just as my pupil, but as my own grandchild.”

Weird, and maybe even a little creepy, but straight from the heart—that was Eishun Ikuo, the man known as Whitesnake. In time, she had come to think of him as a grandfather, and by now she owed him an immeasurable sum of gratitude. This morning, he had offered her not an order, but a choice: go her own way, with the lessons she'd learned and the skills she'd nurtured, or officially join Dark Tree as a new recruit in their hideout just before they embarked on a grand heist. That offering completed the job's transformation from an inescapable fate to a duty she could undertake because she wanted to, and for the sake of that wrinkled old hermit.

And here she stood. Phone in hand, Ludmilla punched in the Japanese characters over the door, and her indispensable translation app told her the name of the place where life would change. Stray Sheep. A bar... When she and Whitesnake drew near, both reached for the handle, but her fingers closed around it first. The old man smiled before settling on a grim expression. “I shall do the talking,” he told her in Russian.

“...Hai, sensei,” Ludmilla replied, her limited Japanese accented heavily enough to seem like a growl. She opened the door for her mentor, and the two went inside.

Though possessed of only one eye, Ludmilla quickly found herself with a lot to look at. She had no doubt that the strangers' eyes would fixate on her bright red hair and eyepatch, so she spared no expense looking them over, her surly expression clear to see. Most interesting was the mutant in the middle of a drink at the bar, whose size and reptilian features might have visibly intimidated a more emotive recruit, but she managed to recognize the man beside him despite his washed-up veil. Captain East. Ludmilla knew a handful of names belonging to this city's criminals, along with the appearances of the most significant was, and even in her short time in Musutafu she knew all about the tragic tale of Captain East. Installed in a booth were two unfamiliar faces, a young man who looked pretty ordinary and a younger woman whose ivory-white hair and blank expression made her stand out like a department-store mannequin. There were two others, neither attention-catching nor forgettable, one behind the bar in a butler's attire and the other situated in front of an arcade cabinet on the far side of the bar. Her gaze finally settled on a wraith in a black robe and silver mask whose reputation preceded him. Shade Walker. The real deal. Putting a hand on her hip, she waited along with Whitesnake for the current exchange to fizzle out, after which the old man began to speak.

“Mr. Shade Walker, good afternoon. I'm glad I could catch you in time. Here is the new recruit you asked for, whose Quirk you felt would compliment this team. I consider her my protege, and I am sure she will serve you well in the heist today. 'Ludmilla' is her name, though she also goes by 'Akane.'”

Recognizing her name, Ludmilla gave a slight nod of her head, a far cry from a bow.

“She does not speak Japanese or English, but can translate whatever she needs from her phone. In the heat of the moment, you'll find that she is very intuitive about what she needs to do.” Switching to Russian, he made an aside to Ludmilla. “Go ahead and use the bathroom to get changed into your suit. If I remember the schedule correctly, there will be action soon.”

After giving a grunt of confirmation, Ludmilla began to move through the bar, still holding her briefcase. One by one she glanced at the other villains as she passed, headed for the bathroom, the Japanese indicator for which she knew from memory.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

Ludmilla

Name: Ludmilla Volkov (pronounced loodMEElah FOLkoff)
Nicknames: Akane (meaning 'deep red', in reference to her hair, its used by a select few Japanese friends and associates due to her name being extremely difficult to pronounce)
Villain Name: Ludmilla
Age: 23
Gender: Female

Appearance

A lithe woman who measure 5'4” tall, Ludmilla sports a pale complexion and shockingly orange hair cropped short. Beneath her long, thin eyebrows, her right eye is a brilliant green that offers stark contrast to her hair, but her right is glazed over, with a pale blue iris and reddish-purple pupil. Of course, her left is most often cowled beneath an eyepatch. When undertaking villain work, she can be seen in a somewhat tight-fitting but predominantly practical padded black suit, its material and make the same sort as SWAT-team protective gear. When not on duty, she leans toward punkish clothes that give her the air of a ruffian. A good image of her in 'casual' clothes, when she was a good bit younger:

-=-=-

Weapons: None, though she will tend to improvise weapons using her surroundings
Villain Equipment: Only her tactical suit, though she would love to get her hands on some sort of eyepiece that could help with her Quirk

-=-=-

Strength: Though a fair bit stronger than your average twenty-three-year-old woman, Ludmilla is no powerhouse in the strength department. Though she might put on a show of confidence by throwing around what weight she has in a fight, she will typically try to forego contests of raw strength

Endurance: Ludmilla's active lifestyle and good genes have endowed her with impressive endurance; in fact, it is arguably her best trait. She can jog at a steady pace for a little less than forty-five minutes, sprint for an entire minute, and keep going long enough in a fight to outlast some opponents, which forms the basis of her strategy in many scenarios. Some, either as a compliment or insult, have compared her stamina to that of a Russian grey wolf

Willpower: In terms of mental endurance she is pretty dogged, and as long as she's sure some problem isn't impossible from the outset, she'll press on with an almost-angry determination as long as she can. A certain surly disregard for other's taunts, jibes, and questionings lends her a more-than-decent resistance to self-doubt and certain ploys. However, her will is by no means unbreakable, and multiple failures in quick succession or a decisive failure outright may convince her that giving up is the best option

Speed: There's not much to say about Ludmilla's speed, garnered from the same cardio-intensive lifestyle that developed her endurance. She can be quick when necessary, especially in short bursts, but it's not her forte. That said, she is certainly faster than she is strong

Reaction Speed: A contender for Ludmilla's worst trait, her reaction speed is workable but not at all remarkable. Speedier opponents or quick-thinking adversaries can overwhelm and frustrate her as she struggles to keep up, moreso when trying to handle the backlash from her Quirk at the same time

-=-=-

Name of Quirk: Brighteye

Ability of Quirk: Using her left eye, Ludmilla can generate a piercing white light, the edges of its glow tinged with dull bluish-purple as they flare straight up and down. After a moment, the light will burst in a flash, altering the viscosity of the air and water in her line of sight. To be specific, the flash will increase the viscosity, with the resulting viscosity based on her will but dependent on other factors. The duration of the alteration depends on that viscosity, and its range depends on her field of vision. Viscosity is, in essence, how difficult a substance is to move through, equatable to its solidity

Qualities of Quirk: Though strange at first sight, Brighteye has a lot of utility. It can be used offensively to slow enemies down, or to nearly freeze them in place at high viscosity. It can also be used defensively to block -or more accurately, delay- projectiles. It's even usable for movement, since after a stasis field has been made, Ludmilla can essentially swim through it or run atop it, making it possible to stasis a section of air and, say, swim up to the second floor of a building

Strengths of Quirk: With its many uses and a little bit of cunning, Brighteye can be applied to a great many situations, making it a highly versatile Quirk. Its power to stop enemies in their tracks also makes it an exceptional support Quirk, since she or allies can take advantage of impeded enemies to attack, escape, or take other action

Weaknesses of Quirk: First and foremost, Ludmilla is blind in her left eye due to that organ's structure being changed to facilitate her Quirk. Usage of her power causes eye strain, ranging from barely anything on first use to severe after repeated use (ten uses), and this eye strain gives her a headache. Aside from hurting, these headaches make it difficult to focus and think rationally, and they make her quick to lash out, so Ludmilla really can't abuse her eye's ability

Limits of Quirk: A lot of variable are involved in any instance of using Brighteye. Ludmilla's field of vision is one; if it's large, her range is short, and if she narrows her vision, she can achieve longer range but affect much less area. Its duration is another, since it depends on any stasis field's viscosity. A high-viscosity field, and thus a more potent stasis effect, lasts for a far shorter time than a low-viscosity field. Brighteye also yields different results based on the composition of the affected substance. If the air is obscured by particles, such as sand, snow, or smoke, a high-viscosity stasis may become pretty solid. If there's no air or water to make more viscous, or Ludmilla's vision from her left eye is blocked, the Quirk has no effect

-=-=-

Biography: Born in Volgograd to an older couple as the younger sibling to an older brother and sister, Ludmilla developed a unique dynamic with her family from an early age. Distant and self-absorbed, preoccupied with earning the highest marks among all his peers from the first grade onward, her older brother Vitaly never made much of an impact on her life other than casting a long shadow over her. In a very different vein, she disliked the excessive affection of the middle sibling Yulia, who never seemed to want to leave her side. Her parents, however, demanded much of her attention. Since their meeting and marriage in the early years of lower Russia' long recession following the emergence of Quirks, Ludmilla's mother and father had nursed ambitions for great achievement that they'd never been able to realize. By nature a pair of goal-oriented individuals more focused on profit and recognition than romance or nurturing a family, her parents aimed to lead their children on the path toward fame and fortune they had wanted for themselves. Though all three children displayed Quirks, their development was shunned, for their parents took a hardline stance against what they termed 'comic-book nonsense'. Much was demanded of the three siblings, and for a long time, they worked so hard to please their parents that they got used to being used.

While Vitaly was off earning his high school's honored Valedictorian status, Ludmilla concentrated on dance. She shared her mother's admiration for the world-famous Russian ballet dancers whose beauty and poise captured eyes and hearts across the globe, but she did not share her drive. Growing increasingly disillusioned, Ludmilla fostered a growing tendency toward rebellion, and looked elsewhere for self-satisfaction. She found it among Volgograd's substantial Korean population: the martial art of Tae Kwon Do. It was there that she found her affinity for combat and competition, carrying on the ancient tradition as she became stronger and attuned her self-control. One art complimented the other, but Ludmilla found she could not approach dance the same way anymore. Desperate to break free of the monotony, she began to put her own spin on the dance, injecting it with sudden and violent motions along with strange posing. This put her on thin ice with her institution, which ultimately broke when the time came for graduation, and the selection of the honored few who would take the next step toward fame.

The judges, displeased were her performance, grew downright disgusted when they found her body made tough and lithe by years of martial arts training and when the beheld the dead glaze in her patched-up eye. Even if she didn't care about ballet as much as Tae Kwon Do anymore, Ludmilla was stung by the rejection—though it paled in comparison to that of her mother's and father's. They railed against their wayward daughter, accusing her of selfishly ruining her own potential and sabotaging her family. Full of anger and disappointment, they turned their criticism on Yulia and even Vitaly, haranguing them for failures both real and imagined. In return, the children's smoldering resentment boiled over, escalating the condemnation into an outraged shouting match, and then into a brawl. It was then that not one or two but all five family members' repressed Quirks appeared. Vitaly, whose bottled-up stress and anxiety outweighed his siblings' by far, caused the earth to rattle and crack even as his mother's poison eked across the floor, his father caused household items to melt, and Yulia's hair took on a life of its own. When the family members tried to flee from their home as it threatened to collapse, they found themselves blinded by sudden flashes that turned the air thicker than molasses. In another city, a local hero might have rushed in to save the day, but today there were no heroes to come. Instead, a gang of villains interested in recruiting people with Quirks approached the disaster site, and from the rubble they pulled Ludmilla. When the girl awoke, she found herself in a different town, the unwilling recruit of a despicable band of miscreants, thrust into a living nightmare.

Yet, Ludmilla adapted. Applying herself helped ease some of the pain that was thinking about what happened to her family, and her role in it, though she never found out their ultimate fates. With some help from the gang's resident wise guy, she came to terms with her ability, and after testing the waters of what she did and didn't find morally permissible the girl proved herself an invaluable asset to the crew. That is, she proved her ability to be an asset. While for a while she delighted in the liberty and self-satisfaction of a rogue's lifestyle, she grew to realize that things hadn't changed after all. In the end, she was still being used—someone's tool to realize their own goals, not the master of her own fate. This time, however, she could only turn her fury outward. In time, her unique Quirk, personality, and accomplishments earned her the attention of Dark Tree to whom her crew was a distant subsidiary, and Ludmilla was transferred to Japan. Despite the vastly different culture, she settled well enough as she continued her work as a criminal, this time under the wing of an old Dark Tree lieutenant called Whitesnake. Through his tutelage and oversight, he made 'Akane' feel cared for for perhaps the first time, and she developed an ardent loyalty to him and Dark Tree by extension.

Personality: At surface level Ludmilla gives off the impression of being apathetic and dull-witted. However, that non-responsiveness is simply how she acts when a chance to be aggressive and brash isn't available. In essence, she doesn't go looking for fights, but she's more than happy to finish them, and in as spectacular a way as possible. While she has a decent understanding of right and wrong, her personal moral compass revolves primarily around whatever 'feels right', and she doesn't have many compunctions when it comes to hurting other people, directly or indirectly. In contrast to her parents, she derives pleasure not from accomplishment -the end result of any given venture- but from what she experiences on the way there. The rush of risk in particular exhilarates her.

Having become disillusioned with the proper way to do things, she finds small joy in small rebellions, doing things wrongly or in an aggressive manner just because she can. It can be said that she's hungry to assert and prove herself, both her own identity and her own independence, and willing to go to great -but not necessarily any- lengths to do it. This philosophy of aggression and rebellion does not necessarily apply to her villainous allies, which would hurt her in the long run, and it doesn't mean she can't approach situations with wit and strategy. For the most part, though, she's proud to be a thug, high-class maybe, but a hooligan nonetheless.

All this doesn't necessarily mean she's unpleasant to be around in the right circumstances. Despite being generally surly, anti-authority, and anti-propriety, she's outgoing, open to, and supportive of allies; evidently, teamwork is something that 'feels right' to her. While most crimes don't bother her, she is completely unwilling to commit murder, and while she enjoys some violence here and there, she's not sadistic. This mean's she's a villain with a line she's not willing to cross, but up to that point Ludmilla has few qualms.

-=-=-

Other: Ludmilla does not have a firm grasp on either the English or Japanese languages, and uses her phone to translate to Russian. Certain short phrases, such as common orders, are recognizable to her, but otherwise it can be tough to communicate. This helps contribute to an aggressive-yet-quiet demeanor.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

Alright I'll allow it through if only because while not powerful it basically downgrades any physical, and non physical even, heroes.

@vancexentan

Thank you kindly. I'll begin work on my first post with little delay.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

If I'm reading the quirk right the thing inhibits moving correct? I'm just having an issue wrapping my head around it.

@vancexentan

Pretty much. It does that by making air (or water) harder to move through, in the way that syrup is harder to move through than air, and it does this in a defined field.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

Alright, here is my application. I hope it's suitable!

Ludmilla

Name: Ludmilla Volkov (pronounced loodMEElah FOLkoff)
Nicknames: Akane (meaning 'deep red', in reference to her hair, its used by a select few Japanese friends and associates due to her name being extremely difficult to pronounce)
Villain Name: Ludmilla
Age: 23
Gender: Female

Appearance

A lithe woman who measure 5'4” tall, Ludmilla sports a pale complexion and shockingly orange hair cropped short. Beneath her long, thin eyebrows, her right eye is a brilliant green that offers stark contrast to her hair, but her right is glazed over, with a pale blue iris and reddish-purple pupil. Of course, her left is most often cowled beneath an eyepatch. When undertaking villain work, she can be seen in a somewhat tight-fitting but predominantly practical padded black suit, its material and make the same sort as SWAT-team protective gear. When not on duty, she leans toward punkish clothes that give her the air of a ruffian. A good image of her in 'casual' clothes, when she was a good bit younger:

-=-=-

Weapons: None, though she will tend to improvise weapons using her surroundings
Villain Equipment: Only her tactical suit, though she would love to get her hands on some sort of eyepiece that could help with her Quirk

-=-=-

Strength: Though a fair bit stronger than your average twenty-three-year-old woman, Ludmilla is no powerhouse in the strength department. Though she might put on a show of confidence by throwing around what weight she has in a fight, she will typically try to forego contests of raw strength

Endurance: Ludmilla's active lifestyle and good genes have endowed her with impressive endurance; in fact, it is arguably her best trait. She can jog at a steady pace for a little less than forty-five minutes, sprint for an entire minute, and keep going long enough in a fight to outlast some opponents, which forms the basis of her strategy in many scenarios. Some, either as a compliment or insult, have compared her stamina to that of a Russian grey wolf

Willpower: In terms of mental endurance she is pretty dogged, and as long as she's sure some problem isn't impossible from the outset, she'll press on with an almost-angry determination as long as she can. A certain surly disregard for other's taunts, jibes, and questionings lends her a more-than-decent resistance to self-doubt and certain ploys. However, her will is by no means unbreakable, and multiple failures in quick succession or a decisive failure outright may convince her that giving up is the best option

Speed: There's not much to say about Ludmilla's speed, garnered from the same cardio-intensive lifestyle that developed her endurance. She can be quick when necessary, especially in short bursts, but it's not her forte. That said, she is certainly faster than she is strong

Reaction Speed: A contender for Ludmilla's worst trait, her reaction speed is workable but not at all remarkable. Speedier opponents or quick-thinking adversaries can overwhelm and frustrate her as she struggles to keep up, moreso when trying to handle the backlash from her Quirk at the same time

-=-=-

Name of Quirk: Brighteye

Ability of Quirk: Using her left eye, Ludmilla can generate a piercing white light, the edges of its glow tinged with dull bluish-purple as they flare straight up and down. After a moment, the light will burst in a flash, altering the viscosity of the air and water in her line of sight. To be specific, the flash will increase the viscosity, with the resulting viscosity based on her will but dependent on other factors. The duration of the alteration depends on that viscosity, and its range depends on her field of vision. Viscosity is, in essence, how difficult a substance is to move through, equatable to its solidity

Qualities of Quirk: Though strange at first sight, Brighteye has a lot of utility. It can be used offensively to slow enemies down, or to nearly freeze them in place at high viscosity. It can also be used defensively to block -or more accurately, delay- projectiles. It's even usable for movement, since after a stasis field has been made, Ludmilla can essentially swim through it or run atop it, making it possible to stasis a section of air and, say, swim up to the second floor of a building

Strengths of Quirk: With its many uses and a little bit of cunning, Brighteye can be applied to a great many situations, making it a highly versatile Quirk. Its power to stop enemies in their tracks also makes it an exceptional support Quirk, since she or allies can take advantage of impeded enemies to attack, escape, or take other action

Weaknesses of Quirk: First and foremost, Ludmilla is blind in her left eye due to that organ's structure being changed to facilitate her Quirk. Usage of her power causes eye strain, ranging from barely anything on first use to severe after repeated use (ten uses), and this eye strain gives her a headache. Aside from hurting, these headaches make it difficult to focus and think rationally, and they make her quick to lash out, so Ludmilla really can't abuse her eye's ability

Limits of Quirk: A lot of variable are involved in any instance of using Brighteye. Ludmilla's field of vision is one; if it's large, her range is short, and if she narrows her vision, she can achieve longer range but affect much less area. Its duration is another, since it depends on any stasis field's viscosity. A high-viscosity field, and thus a more potent stasis effect, lasts for a far shorter time than a low-viscosity field. Brighteye also yields different results based on the composition of the affected substance. If the air is obscured by particles, such as sand, snow, or smoke, a high-viscosity stasis may become pretty solid. If there's no air or water to make more viscous, or Ludmilla's vision from her left eye is blocked, the Quirk has no effect

-=-=-

Biography: Born in Volgograd to an older couple as the younger sibling to an older brother and sister, Ludmilla developed a unique dynamic with her family from an early age. Distant and self-absorbed, preoccupied with earning the highest marks among all his peers from the first grade onward, her older brother Vitaly never made much of an impact on her life other than casting a long shadow over her. In a very different vein, she disliked the excessive affection of the middle sibling Yulia, who never seemed to want to leave her side. Her parents, however, demanded much of her attention. Since their meeting and marriage in the early years of lower Russia' long recession following the emergence of Quirks, Ludmilla's mother and father had nursed ambitions for great achievement that they'd never been able to realize. By nature a pair of goal-oriented individuals more focused on profit and recognition than romance or nurturing a family, her parents aimed to lead their children on the path toward fame and fortune they had wanted for themselves. Though all three children displayed Quirks, their development was shunned, for their parents took a hardline stance against what they termed 'comic-book nonsense'. Much was demanded of the three siblings, and for a long time, they worked so hard to please their parents that they got used to being used.

While Vitaly was off earning his high school's honored Valedictorian status, Ludmilla concentrated on dance. She shared her mother's admiration for the world-famous Russian ballet dancers whose beauty and poise captured eyes and hearts across the globe, but she did not share her drive. Growing increasingly disillusioned, Ludmilla fostered a growing tendency toward rebellion, and looked elsewhere for self-satisfaction. She found it among Volgograd's substantial Korean population: the martial art of Tae Kwon Do. It was there that she found her affinity for combat and competition, carrying on the ancient tradition as she became stronger and attuned her self-control. One art complimented the other, but Ludmilla found she could not approach dance the same way anymore. Desperate to break free of the monotony, she began to put her own spin on the dance, injecting it with sudden and violent motions along with strange posing. This put her on thin ice with her institution, which ultimately broke when the time came for graduation, and the selection of the honored few who would take the next step toward fame.

The judges, displeased were her performance, grew downright disgusted when they found her body made tough and lithe by years of martial arts training and when the beheld the dead glaze in her patched-up eye. Even if she didn't care about ballet as much as Tae Kwon Do anymore, Ludmilla was stung by the rejection—though it paled in comparison to that of her mother's and father's. They railed against their wayward daughter, accusing her of selfishly ruining her own potential and sabotaging her family. Full of anger and disappointment, they turned their criticism on Yulia and even Vitaly, haranguing them for failures both real and imagined. In return, the children's smoldering resentment boiled over, escalating the condemnation into an outraged shouting match, and then into a brawl. It was then that not one or two but all five family members' repressed Quirks appeared. Vitaly, whose bottled-up stress and anxiety outweighed his siblings' by far, caused the earth to rattle and crack even as his mother's poison eked across the floor, his father caused household items to melt, and Yulia's hair took on a life of its own. When the family members tried to flee from their home as it threatened to collapse, they found themselves blinded by sudden flashes that turned the air thicker than molasses. In another city, a local hero might have rushed in to save the day, but today there were no heroes to come. Instead, a gang of villains interested in recruiting people with Quirks approached the disaster site, and from the rubble they pulled Ludmilla. When the girl awoke, she found herself in a different town, the unwilling recruit of a despicable band of miscreants, thrust into a living nightmare.

Yet, Ludmilla adapted. Applying herself helped ease some of the pain that was thinking about what happened to her family, and her role in it, though she never found out their ultimate fates. With some help from the gang's resident wise guy, she came to terms with her ability, and after testing the waters of what she did and didn't find morally permissible the girl proved herself an invaluable asset to the crew. That is, she proved her ability to be an asset. While for a while she delighted in the liberty and self-satisfaction of a rogue's lifestyle, she grew to realize that things hadn't changed after all. In the end, she was still being used—someone's tool to realize their own goals, not the master of her own fate. This time, however, she could only turn her fury outward. In time, her unique Quirk, personality, and accomplishments earned her the attention of Dark Tree to whom her crew was a distant subsidiary, and Ludmilla was transferred to Japan. Despite the vastly different culture, she settled well enough as she continued her work as a criminal, this time under the wing of an old Dark Tree lieutenant called Whitesnake. Through his tutelage and oversight, he made 'Akane' feel cared for for perhaps the first time, and she developed an ardent loyalty to him and Dark Tree by extension.

Personality: At surface level Ludmilla gives off the impression of being apathetic. However, that non-responsiveness is simply how she acts when a chance to be aggressive and brash isn't available. In essence, she doesn't go looking for fights, but she's more than happy to finish them, and in as spectacular a way as possible. While she has a decent understanding of right and wrong, her personal moral compass revolves primarily around whatever 'feels right', and she doesn't have many compunctions when it comes to hurting other people, directly or indirectly. In contrast to her parents, she derives pleasure not from accomplishment -the end result of any given venture- but from what she experiences on the way there. The rush of risk in particular exhilarates her.

Having become disillusioned with the proper way to do things, she finds small joy in small rebellions, doing things wrongly or in an aggressive manner just because she can. It can be said that she's hungry to assert and prove herself, both her own identity and her own independence, and willing to go to great -but not necessarily any- lengths to do it. This philosophy of aggression and rebellion does not necessarily apply to her villainous allies, which would hurt her in the long run, and it doesn't mean she can't approach situations with wit and strategy. For the most part, though, she's proud to be a thug, high-class maybe, but a hooligan nonetheless.

All this doesn't necessarily mean she's unpleasant to be around in the right circumstances. Despite being generally surly, anti-authority, and anti-propriety, she's outgoing, open to, and supportive of allies; evidently, teamwork is something that 'feels right' to her. While most crimes don't bother her, she is completely unwilling to commit murder, and while she enjoys some violence here and there, she's not sadistic. This mean's she's a villain with a line she's not willing to cross, but up to that point Ludmilla has few qualms.

-=-=-

Other: Ludmilla does not have a firm grasp on either the English or Japanese languages, and uses her phone to translate to Russian. Certain short phrases, such as common orders, are recognizable to her, but otherwise it can be tough to communicate. This helps contribute to an aggressive-yet-quiet demeanor.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

I regret that I've been busy with the holidays recently, but you'll have my application before you know it.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

The Lady in White

Location: Government Hub
@Lazo

Now possessing a concrete goal, the odd pair of Mountain Dew and Pithy moved through the Government Hub at a brisk pace. Having for the most part evaporated over the course of the day, the flooding from the previous night presented insignificant obstruction, allowing the two to zero in on the place marked on the sorceress's map. Their path took them north, toward the skyscrapers of the towering Commercial District, though not as far as it could have been; judging by the amount of ground he'd covered from the tower, their target did not appear to be on the run. Nothing jumped out at them on their trek in the manner of the bat creatures Pithy first encountered, but one anomaly did not try to disguise itself: the surreal sight of a circus tent floating high in the air, its colors and constant spin giving it clear distinction against the rather cloudy sky. Were Mountain's vision exceptionally trained, perhaps through the lens of a long-distance firearm, he might even be able to spot the strange shape that dropped like an oblong rock through the Big Top's bottom toward the unremarkable office buildings and accompanying lots far below. Yet, the unusual occurrence constituted for the pair little more than a distraction as they grew close to the building overlaid by their map's X. The edifice in question seemed to be a high-brow corner restaurant, and its sign read “Moscow Caliber.”

The Fungal Knight

Location: Government Hub
@Gardevoiran

Scarcely had the Basil-isk begun to advance before the blasts of three warning shots broke the crisp air, their payloads ricocheting off the concrete in bursts of stone shards. None of the bullets hit Bonesword, but were he to look behind him, he could see that the ricocheted projectiles had embedded themselves in the building behind him in a perfect line. However absurd, such a feat spoke great lengths to the skill of the marksman, who now held his strange pistol at his side, his stance casual. Not far away, the forest sprite gave every indication of being spooked by the roar of the skeleton's mount, and like a fly darting away from a rolled-up newspaper it had already dashed behind a parked car to hide.

Despite his lackadaisical manner, which contrasted so thoroughly with the killer ability displayed by his warning shots, the mummified gunslinger kept his mushy ochre eyes fixed on Bonesword. “Hol' up jus' a moment there, pardner. Ya migh' not-a realized, but we're smack dab in the middle of a...delicate medicinal operation. Any closer an' that nice skull o' yers gets a new 'ole.” Without changing his gaze, he motioned toward the rosy-pink puddle, which appeared to have doubled in size and thickness in the short time since Bonesword saw it last. As he watched, the goo began to coalesce into the shape of a body. First identifiably humanoid, then identifiably female, it continued to gather until it took on the appearance of a long-haired, stocky woman. The moment they formed, her eyes flew open, and she gasped. “No!” she cried, before sitting upright. The effort brought forth another wave of pain, and the slime woman clutched her head, wincing. ”Aaah! Why does it hurt so much!?”

The gunslinger knelt, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder while averting his eyes. “Ya got killed. Hell, not even jus' killed, ya got evaporated.” Eyes wide, the slime woman tried to stand, only to fall apart. Her lower half melted back into a puddle, leaving only her torso, head, and arms. Sensing that his hand wouldn't do much good, the cowboy wiped it off and spoke again. “C'mon now, listen 'ere. D'ya know yer name?”

A moment passed, a look of consternation on the woman's face. “...Ss...Squ....no, uh, it's...uh...Ver...Very...”

“Verrine,” the undead finished. “Means 'window' in another language. Same language yer creator's name comes from. D'ya rem-”

This time, recognition came as quick as a bolt of lightning, interrupting the gunslinger's question. ”Carreau.”

The gunslinger gave a laugh. “Figures ya remember 'im better'n yerself. How 'bout us, now?”

One by one, Verrine looked between everyone present. ”Skreeh...Screed?,” she asked the mummy, who gave a slight nod. The forest sprite, who'd risen up from his hiding spot, came to her next. ”Frolic...the doctor. We're friends. I g-guess you brought me back? Eheh...thank you.” Each memory seemed to restore her confidence as well as her body, returning her to full form, but her face became uncertain when she looked at Bonesword. ”You...uh, I don't really...remember. I'm really trying, but I just can't! I'm sorry for being so useless...”

At that, Screed stepped in. “No, no, yer fine. He ain't one of us, ya see.” Crossing his arms, the gunslinger faced Bonesword with narrowed eyes. A guarded look crossed Verrine's features as she stood, her hands balling into fists. “Ah think it's 'bout time he gave an account o' 'imself. Who are ya, pardner, and whatcha doin' in a place where two of our friends were murdered?”

The Cereal Killer

Location: Flooded Historical District
@Propro

Runch's shout met silence, the atmosphere of the abandoned hotel all the more grim, dreary, and haunting because of the invisible, indescribable entities that infested it. Though the pirate couldn't see it, he was surrounded by shadowy figures, some mere inches away from his body and always on the move to avoid being touched. Their master could not be seen either, but after a few moments, a call from down the dimly-lit corridor heralded Davian's presence. “Fine by me,” the voice conceded from its owner's hiding spot. “Even if our powers were good together, we were too inexperienced to stick it to monsters like Crue. Told her, but she wouldn't listen. I'm going, but don't try following me, Mr. Runch. And though I'm going, I'm afraid I can't make any promises. I hate fighting, especially when it's as dangerous as this, but I can't bear the thought of a monster getting his one wish. Even though you beat Crue, someone worse might beat you, and the machine needs every soul.”

Davian appeared from a doorway near the stairwell entrance, his hands above his head as he rushed over to the escape route. “You don't seem like a bad guy, but you could just as easily be one's stepping stone,” he called. Into the open door he slipped, his last words echoing up the stairwell. “That's why we have to stop this tournament, sooner or later! We're not heroes, but as long as there's even the slightest chance of an awful wish threatening the world, we have to intervene!” Then, the man was gone, though continued pursuit was by no means out of the question.

Inari

Location: What Lies Beneath
@Kapuchu

As if on cue, the drone approached the two battered but surviving combatants, hovering nearby. A voice played from it without delay, though one that identified itself as a pre-recorded message just as quickly. “If you're hearing this, one of the GPS tracking signals in your vicinity has been snuffed out, which means that a Phylactery is compromised, a soul taken, and the battle won. Good on you for making it one step closer to your ultimate desire! Feel free to help yourself to any artifacts or other equipment belonging to the defeated party, or even ally yourself with an enemy you spared. You'll need everything you can get for the next round. When your next opponent is ready, this drone's tracking will reengage, which you can tell by the eyelight blinking. Good luck out there!” As the drone's speech ended, its eyelight retained its constant glow, indicating that the immediate future held no more duress for either the fox or the shark.

With the incredible violence the battle out of the way, the cool, calm atmosphere of the great cavern could sweep back in. Robbed of its potential threat, the darkness seemed as gentle as the glow of the bioluminescent fungi. By now the enormous crow appeared to have landed at the foreboding city in the distance, so not even its heavy wingbeats disturbed the quiet. Only the soft echoes of dripping water and the whistling of breezes that spiraled down from the surface reached Lily's ears.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

An annoyed look crossed the Margrave's face. By what right did some lowly soldier criticize him? No matter how quirky the main characters, they took precedence over the fodder; the grunts were only here to provide a sense of normalcy to contrast the heroes' and perhaps die to establish the threat posed by the villains. Sensing that remarking this aloud would more than likely lead to negative consequences, however, Margrave obeyed the peon and kept his silence. In fact, he obeyed it so closely that he failed to utter so much as a peep in response to Alessa's concerned request as he sidled up to the warehouse near her. It was no wonder that her reckless abandon would lead her to arrive at the destination first, while his utmost focus on stealth obliged him to take longer. If you're so worried about getaway vehicles, why don't you go yourself? The soldiers are there to keep an eye while we do our job: taking down the callous fiends holed up in this place. He spotted Epsilon and her escort making their way over, headed for one of the entrances used by the Community's lackeys. I shall have to steer clear of her at all costs. If I become ensnared in her nullification field, every toy I've ferreted away on my person will return to full size instantly, giving away my position and disarming me if not crushing me first. How unfortunate for those who desire to foster our teamwork that our abilities are antithetical.

The Margrave's inner monologue faded as he rerouted his attention to moving forward. 'Tiger Lily' and Epsilon appeared to have already advanced, so he needed to make haste. That said, he hadn't received any orders from the Wards' so-called leader, and even if the others didn't resent him utterly should he act on his own, there could be dire consequences for rash action for one even as talented and enigmatic as he. As such, he inched closer to the goal whilst awaiting a game plan. He did not expect Overlook to jump into action without delay, announcing his presence and demanding that...the thugs voice their questions? Wouldn't it be more appropriate for a peacekeeping force to demand 'drop any weapons and put your hands over your heads. You are under arrest for trespassing!'? What he said wasn't intimidating at all. Though their chaperon had blown his own cover, that didn't mean that the Wards' own positions were compromised—unless, of course, one of the parahumans within the warehouse harbored some tracking ability.

Despite his best efforts at maintaining composure, the Margrave jumped when an unfamiliar voice from inside the warehouse started shouting. ”He doesn't seem bothered giving away his position. How bizarre, to throw away a potential advantage...” Several ideas floated around his head as to why, the first and foremost being that those inside had some sort of backup on the outside, to whom the presence of the Wards had just been broadcasted. So many unknowns when dealing with powers...unless these are gormless curmudgeons, we'll need every advantage we can get. He edged closer to a window, craning his hearing on the voice inside. A moment later, the sound of gunshots reached his ears, bringing a grimace to his features. Great. We've got the lethality factor right off the bat. At the moment, he did not assign much probability to those gunshots being at an ally, since as far as he knew nobody was confronting the enemy directly. If Overlook's drone was the target, he'd be paying the price for sticking his neck out with the destruction of his hardware. Still, the battle has begun. His face remained cold as the unknown voice from earlier identified his group as heroes. In this case, being technically right did not matter; the fact that this villain figured it out indicated either remarkable intuition or some sort of information-gathering ability. As the Margrave's bemusing adversary spoke, his tone full of confidence, things seemed more and more dour. What kind of power do they have that he's acting so full of himself, when there are potentially grade-A Capes out here? He can't be some overblown idiot...we've gotta be out of our league here. All his life, the boy known as Elliot had known disparagement, and at every turn he'd made the same resolution: to never let it get him down. But this was different. Maybe because he was thrust into a dangerous real-life situation, the accusation of not being good enough cut more deeply? He glanced at Messiah, his eyes questioning. When things looked bad, as they now did, it was her job to whip up a solution. He could have put more effort into thinking of something himself, but his anger against her smoldered. This burden was on her. ”Now's your chance to prove yourself, o gracious leader. They...” As another voice spoke up from inside, one tinted by a British accent, he trailed off. This man didn't seem nearly as convinced of his group's superiority as the first, and he advocated retreat. There was a loud clatter of splintering wood against some surface, which might have been another attack against the drone.

Moving automatically, the Margrave pulled out his toy gun and released his power over it, returning it to its proper form as a MAC-10. While he possessed only rubber bullets, the Community parahumans didn't know that, so the weapon offered some solace. Still, the vociferous one's words weighed heavy on his mind, making him think that the doubt of the second speaker might have been an attempt at a trap. I can't make the first move. From the voice coming to him over the Wards' comms, a similar paralysis seized Lily. What were they going to do?