Mach2

The Bronze Brigade: In the beginning

Ooooh, I approve on so many levels. I imagine their beliefs are fairly opposing, too. Rayne doesn't believe in any sort of higher power. Rosalia does. This'll be great.

The Bronze Brigade: In the beginning

Rayne, Last of the Eastern Blades

Name: Rayne of the Eastern Blades

Age: 20

Soulforging Specialty:
Radar:
Rayne is able to detect the presence of another soul within a certain distance; paranoia in its finest form. Currently, she has trained this skill to the point where she is subconsciously sensing the souls all around her. Her 'radar' covers a radius of twenty metres, creating a bubble forty metres in diametre around her. When she focuses solely on her radar ability, she is able to push the sphere out to encompass a radius of more than fifty metres. It is virtually impossible to sneak up on Rayne.

Sonic:
Though her speech is garbled thanks to her severed tongue, her vocal cords are still very much intact. Her sonic skill focuses the noise she emits during a shout into a sonic beam. When aimed at a target, this beam is capable of stunning, deafening, rupturing eardrums, and even killing if the volume is great enough. Those who have fallen to Rayne's beam have been found afterwards with bleeding eardrums, severe concussions, and in the most extreme cases, collapsed lungs. The attack is devastating, and so is not without its dangers. Rayne runs the risk of severely damaging her vocal cords when producing these deafening blasts.

Abilities
Preemptive defense: When she is aware of an impending blow, Rayne is able to use the energy from her soul to strengthen her body in preparation. The ability can be compared to clenching one's abdominal muscles before a punch to the stomach. It hardly renders her invincible, but knives don't cut quite as deeply, and bludgeoning weapons don't bruise quite as badly. Compared with a person of equal strength and ability, Rayne will be the one to outlast them in a fight.

Increased Speed: A common skill amongst Bronze Brigade initiates, Rayne is able to move faster and strike harder than other people of the same strength.

Skills:
Weapon skill: Rayne was raised in a culture where weaponry was second-nature. She is incredibly proficient with knives, swords, and other blades, as well as hand-to-hand combat. Ranged weapons and bludgeoning weapons are not her preferred choice, but she is nevertheless capable with them as well.

Intimidation: At the most fundamental base of who she is, Rayne is a warrior, and holds herself as such. She stands at 5'10", above average height for a female, and even above the heads of many males. Her build is lithe and muscled, and her hair is wild. As a result of her time as a Morriere prisoner, every inch of her body is covered in scars, including the nearly-lethal line across her throat. Combine her appearance with her self-enforced silence, and Rayne is without a doubt an intimidating woman.

Pride and Determination: The Eastern Blades were a prideful people by nature. To lose a fight, even a spar, was humiliation. From a young age, they were trained to win, but to win with honour. Rayne will fight until she can no longer stand, and will rarely forfeit a match. Even if it is nothing more than a friendly spar. When she has something she wants; for example, initiation into the Bronze Brigade; nothing will stop her from pursuing it.

Equipment:

Basic Armour: The Eastern Blades only donned armour during the riskiest of raids and battles. As such, Rayne hates the restrictiveness of plate armour or chain mail. When she has to, she dons a simple ensemble of hardened leather.

Bronze Dagger: Rayne's dagger is simple but effective. Bought for her by Marcus on one of his trading expeditions, it allows her to channel the energy of her soul. In her hands, the simple instrument is a lethal weapon.

Bolas: Designed as a hunting tool to ensnare a running target, Rayne's ranged weapon of choice are the bolas. She is able to throw them with extreme proficiency, and then move in for an attack with her dagger.

Backstory:
Rayne was born into a warrior tribe known as the Eastern Blades. Her people were fighters by nature, and Rayne was no exception. From the time she was walking, she was beginning to train with wooden sticks. She held a knife with proficiency at the age of five, and was an adept hunter by the time she was ten. Even for a Blade, her weapon proficiency was exceptional. Never did she struggle to learn the proper technique; it always came naturally. By the time Rayne was nineteen years old, she was a celebrated member of her tribe. Even though she was young, she was experienced beyond her years. The youth of the Eastern Blades came to her for advice or sparring practice just as readily as they went to an elder. And she welcomed them gladly, correcting their fighting techniques or telling them stories of the latest raid she had returned from. Life was good. Rayne's life was everything she hoped it to be, until the night of the Morriere assault.

The Blades were a nomadic people, and made their way in the world by hunting, trading, and on occasion, raiding. As a result, they were not without their enemies. Perhaps their most bitter rivals were a tribe known as the Morrieres. The Morrieres and the Eastern Blades were similar in their ruthlessness, but opposing in their customs. The Blades trained with strict discipline, even a level of honour. The Morrieres were bloodthirsty and savage, frequently engaging in the bloodiest of raids and even cannibalism. The two tribes had been involved in a feud for decades.

The rival tribe came in the middle of the night, launching their assault under the cover of darkness. They were utterly silent in their attack. The Eastern Blade's guards were killed first, their throats sliced before they could even sound the alarm. Dozens more of the warrior people were killed, their throats sliced from ear to ear. Rayne was the one to sound the alarm, having already begun to develop her radar ability. She sensed the Morrieres outside her tent, and yelled an alert to her entire encampment.

From that point on, the battle was brutal and bloody. Though the Eastern Blades were the more proficient warriors, they were outnumbered four to one. Most were killed in the massacre. Some, amongst them Rayne, were unfortunate enough to be taken alive. Eleven of the Blades were brought back to the Morriere settlement, where they were held prisoner in the weeks to come. Once a week, the cannibalistic Morrieres would kill a Blade, slicing their throat in the same manner as the rest. Some would be eaten, when meat was scarce, but most of the bodies were dropped in the river. When Rayne screamed an angry protest at the death of her comrades and family, she was held down by several of the Morriere tribesmen. Her jaw was forced open, and her tongue severed in order to silence her. Three of the Blades were punished in a similar fashion.

Over the following months, the Blades were tortured and murdered. Finally, Rayne was the last one left alive. Her body was covered in half-healed wounds, and she was rendered a mute due to her elinguation. She knew her fate, and had come to accept it. One week after the death of the last of her tribesmen, her own throat was sliced with a Morriere blade, and her body thrown to the river. However, she didn't die. The cut was shallower than the others, whether intentional or by some turn of divine luck, and missed her jugular. Rayne lay at the riverbank, her throat bleeding profusely, but not lethally. The Morrieres, thinking her dead, moved on. Despite all she had seen, and despite the loss of her entire tribe, Rayne still had the will to live. She tore the bottom half of her shirt, holding it to her neck as a gauze to stop the bleeding. As soon as the Morrieres had left, Rayne was hurrying away.

She moved west, away from the Morriere tribe, as quickly as she could. Blood loss made her weak, and her pace was slow. It took her several hours to reach another encampment, and some time more to build up the courage to enter. She was dead on her feet; even if they killed her, it would hardly be a punishment.This camp was smaller, more advanced, clearly not tribespeople. They were travellers from the city of Bardum. Though she couldn't speak, one of them stitched the wound at her throat. They spoke to her, telling her of their city. She communicated as best she could, limited by her still-healing tongue. Finally, it was agreed that Rayne would travel with them back to Bardum; the City of Bronze.

This she did. She lived with one of the travellers, a man by the name of Marcus, for several months while she learned her way around the city. The new technology was strange to her, and most of the trades were occupations she had no interest in pursuing. Only one task stood out. Initiation to the Bronze Brigade. She pestered Marcus to tell her all about the Brigade. He did. Rayne learned their history, their purpose, and how difficult it was to join. However, she knew that this was her goal. With her people dead, continuing to pursue combat was Rayne's way of honouring their memory. For the next months, she continued to pester Marcus with her desire to join the Brigade. Finally, shortly after turning twenty, she was initiated.

Other:
Rayne's Speech: As her tongue is severed, Rayne's speech and pronunciation is sub-par. She chooses to remain mostly silent, speaking only when spoken to. If she opts for silence, she is intimidating. If she struggles to form basic words, she sounds slow and unintelligent. For a prideful warrior, the latter is obviously the preferred choice. I'm including this list to let in order to have an easy reference when I have to write Rayne's speech.
[list]

a, e, i, o, and u. Vowels are rarely a struggle for Rayne.

b, f, h, m p, v, w. These consonants are formed primarily with the lips, and are also not a struggle.

c, k, g. Usually formed in the middle of the tongue, Rayne is forced to form these consonants far back in her throat. As a result, they come out with a slight hiss, almost as though she is gagging or choking on something.

r. Rayne is able to form the sound of an 'r' with obvious struggle. Depending upon the word, it may come out as a 'w', or as a very sloppy and drawn-out growling noise, formed far back in her mouth.

s. The sound is formed by hissing through her teeth, and is closer to a 'sh'.

d, j, l, n, t, z, ch, th. These letters all require the tip of the tongue against the front of the roof of the mouth or the teeth. As a result, they are impossible for Rayne.

Examples: Just for the hell of it, here's how she'd likely pronounce everyone else's character's names. XD
Calathes: Ca'afeesh, with a hissing 's'.
Javian: Haviam.
Maccio: (I'm assuming the double 'c' would be the same as fettuccine? XD) Masheeo, with a hissing 's'.
Alexander: Ayeksh. She would likely shorten his name, as she can't pronounce a 'd' or an 'n'.
Rosalia: Errshayia, with a hissing 's' and a growling 'r'.

Since Marcus is pretty close to Rayne, here's a mini-sheet for him.

Marcus

Name: Marcus Smithson
Age: 26
Back story: Marcus was born in the city of Bronze, and has lived there all his life. He was born the son of a tradesman, and continued his father's profession when he turned 18. In his spare time, Marcus works as a writer, publishing small stories about his travels beyond the city. When he leaves the city on a trading expedition, he always brings a hefty journal with him. His shelf at home is stocked with dozens of these books, detailing his life and travels.
Relation to Rayne: Due to Rayne's excessive pride, Marcus is the only one she speaks openly to, and only when no one else is present. He is the only one who knows the entire story of what happened to her and her tribe. Though they are close, there is no romantic attraction. Marcus is a friend and confidant for Rayne.

.

The Bronze Brigade: In the beginning

Ahhh, I see. I had thought you were referring to too many rogues in the RP already. I'll have Rayne's sheet in to you today. :D

also, Savato, your character is epic. O.O

Paint

I'll shoot Wreck a PM tomorrow and see if he's still around.

I may also have to postpone my posting until tomorrow. I'm working on it, but today's been a bit miserable and writing is a challenge for me when I'm in a poor mood.

The Bronze Brigade: In the beginning

Is this still open? I've got a character concept I'd like to try out. May have to tweak her to make her a bit less rogue-y, though.

EDIT: What exactly are you qualifying as a rogue? The thief/pickpocket/warrior type of character? My character, Rayne, comes from a tribe of warriors who valued battle and combat. They were killed in an attack with a warring tribe, during which Rayne and several others were held prisoner for a period of time before being killed off. Rayne escaped. Her motivation to join the Bronze Brigades will stem from a need to continue combat training in order to sort of honour her tribe's memories. She's definitely a fighter, but I wouldn't classify her as a rogue. Is this doable?

Paint

Ended up doing homework way longer than I meant to last night. ANYWHO! I think we're just waiting on a reply from Wreck if he's still around. If not, Relic can easily be tacked on as a third wheel to one of the existing Sprayer groups and Merc can edit his post or something. Probably Anarcho and Free as they haven't left the building yet.

I'll have a reply up for Sass answering Anarcho about Juju's character tomorrow. Today is incredibly busy. After that, Anarcho and Free can leave, and Grey and Sass can have a nice nostalgia conversation about what happened to the old crew.

Juju, if you want to post something, please do! Again, I'm sorry about the delay on your character. >.<

And I'll also get a reply up for Mallory tomorrow, too.

Paint

Oh thank god. If the site had been down another day I may have had an anxiety attack. XD

Anywho! I'll get this back on track later tonight and see what needs to be posted.

Paint

No worries, Merc. Hope the holidays go well for you.

Incursions (Redux)

11:30 AM

Normal people awoke to an alarm clock. Maybe a strong urge to use the toilet thanks to a full bladder. Perhaps a growling stomach and a craving for breakfast.

Vander was awakened by a sharp ache coursing through her stomach. She groaned, the sound quiet even in the silence of her apartment, and curled up in a tight ball on the old mattress. Hazy late-morning sunlight poured in through the dirt-streaked glass of her window. She closed her eyes tightly, the light threatening to trigger a headache. When the hateful sunlight still pierced through her closed eyelids, she raised a hand to cover her face. Her fingers shook.

Shaking hands, aching stomach, light sensitivity... peering through her fingers, Vander looked across the wall at the time projected onto the wall across the room. Late morning. Almost noon. She wasn't sick, she was simply slept too long and was now having a withdrawal. Rolling off the old mattress of her bed, Vander quickly stumbled her way across the room to the tiny kitchen. On the counter, a syringe was ready and waiting for her. With a practiced, habitual motion, she rolled up the sleeve of her raglan sweater and slid the needle under the skin at the inside of her elbow. Her hand still shook, eliciting a slight wince as she slowly pushed the plunger down. The girl leaned back against the counter, exhaling a sigh of relief as the warmth of the drug coursed its way through her body.

She looked down at the counter. "Damn..." The empty hypodermic in her hand was alone. The last one in her stash. She bit her lip anxiously, looking at the empty syringe. She had to get more. Tonight.

Turning the lights on in her apartment, she walked around and looked at the space. It was a mess. Had been for weeks now. Dirty clothes littered the floor, the bed was unmade, and all of the furniture looked like it was older than she was. Which, as of three weeks ago, was nineteen. Vander frowned as a stab of regret hit her. Three weeks past nineteen, and there was no way she would live to see twenty. Lucid would claim her months before that would happen. She sighed and walked into the tiny washroom.

A few minutes later, her hair was brushed over the right side of her face. She was dressed in worn-out black jeans and a clean raglan shirt. Her eyes, slightly bloodshot, were lined with dark makeup. Grabbing her leather jacket from the floor and lacing up her boots, she locked the apartment door behind herself and walked out onto the streets of District 16.

Paint

I'll get you involved as soon as I can, Juju. I really am sorry. >.<

And don't stress too much about the AWOL list. Even if you're posting OOC, that's fine. It's totally understandable that sometimes there's just nothing for your character to do. It's really just a way for me to keep track of users (coughcoughParteebearcough) who have legitimately vanished, as I have a few people who are interested in joining but can't due to crowdedness.