I've updated everything that needed to be updated, I'm pretty sure. @KoL @TheWindel
• Name: Alistair Thorne
• Age: 15
• Gender: Male
• Class: Striker
• Nationality: British
• Height: 167 cm
• Bio:
Al grew up being told stories, passed down from his grandparents, of the time they lived in London. Before the great city was destroyed by them…
He grew up in what was left of Okinawa since his grandparents had fled there a long time ago when the invaders first attacked. His life was quite and they were not on the mainland. This made the threat of attack all that much greater. The island was very sparsely populated and very out of the way so it was mostly spared during the Second Genesis. Though, it proved too little land for too many people at the time, at least that's what Al learned in his history classes at primary school.
At a young age his mother allowed him to start learning martial arts. She had feared that he would use what he learned against other children at school but she realized pretty quickly that he was generally level headed. He took up Fencing and Aikido. They had been adapted to use a combination of traditional swords, vibroblades and beam swords. Al had grown proficient with all three.
His desire to help fight off anything which could endanger the life his family had made for themselves was ever present from his youth. So he excelled in his martial studies, sometimes training after hours to hone his skill. There were a few broken bones and many, many, bruises along the way. But he didn't care, he was determined. As his mother often said, “Tenacity!” The one word had stuck with him for years.
By the time Al was in his early teens he had earned a black belt in Aikido and had honors in Fencing. It was also around this time that he was contacted about potential attendance at the 2nd Tactical Arts Academy. He was excited to attend and finally be able to help the world maintain what they had worked so hard to rebuild. When his letter of acceptance finally arrived, he felt a renewed vigor to follow the path he had been following for years.
• Armament:
: A perfectly balanced vibrorapier, awarded to Alistair upon his elevation to the Order of the Lotus; a ceremonial knighting in the historical rapier organization he is a part of.
: A beamsword which, when activated, emits a thin curved blade.
: The katana Alistair was given after receiving his first black belt. It is razor edged and crafted from folded steel. While not as effective as Judicium or Taiyō in terms of cutting or piercing power, he is more comfortable with this blade and has proven to be more proficient with it, despite its disadvantages. He typically leaves this particular sword on its mount in his dorm; it carries non-intrinsic value.
• Psychic Drive:
Seventh Eye: When activated, Alistair's eyes process information at a greatly increased rate. This makes everything around him seem much slower, allowing for him to fight more effectively with seemingly inhuman reaction time.
• Sample Post:
“Al!” Alistair's mother's voice broke through the blockade of the headphones blasting American soft rock into his ears. She had also banged pretty hard on his door. “You're going to be late for school!” She was his coach, his alarm clock and his mother. She pushed him further than he would ever go and, as mundane as it seemed, she never let up on that. Not even when waking him up in the morning.
He had, of course, already been awake. “I'm up mum!” He called back, taking one earphone out, before she broke another barrier and barged into his small bedroom. The traditional katana he had been gifted, when he received his black belt, was mounted just above his door. It had noticeably shifted when Alistair's mother banged on the door.
“You've got fifteen minutes. Alright sweetie?” Her voice had calmed down.
“Yup, I'll be out in just a few.” He had just finished his fiftieth push up. As much as he didn't like it, he did have to train. Alistair had a very fast metabolism. He ate mountains of food and never gained weight. He had gotten into the habit of exercising for thirty minutes when he got up and before he went to bed, every day. He never seemed to hold onto much muscle. This was his life though, you could have all of the skill in the world but if you had no strength to back it up then it wasn't going to be terribly useful. Only the most practiced martial artists, who'd been training for more than forty years, didn't need any strength.
Fifteen minutes later he was in the people carrier on his way to school. He knew something was going to go well for him that day. And this had nothing to do with precognition.
• Name: Alistair Thorne
• Age: 15
• Gender: Male
• Class: Striker
• Nationality: British
• Height: 167 cm
• Bio:
Al grew up being told stories, passed down from his grandparents, of the time they lived in London. Before the great city was destroyed by them…
He grew up in what was left of Okinawa since his grandparents had fled there a long time ago when the invaders first attacked. His life was quite and they were not on the mainland. This made the threat of attack all that much greater. The island was very sparsely populated and very out of the way so it was mostly spared during the Second Genesis. Though, it proved too little land for too many people at the time, at least that's what Al learned in his history classes at primary school.
At a young age his mother allowed him to start learning martial arts. She had feared that he would use what he learned against other children at school but she realized pretty quickly that he was generally level headed. He took up Fencing and Aikido. They had been adapted to use a combination of traditional swords, vibroblades and beam swords. Al had grown proficient with all three.
His desire to help fight off anything which could endanger the life his family had made for themselves was ever present from his youth. So he excelled in his martial studies, sometimes training after hours to hone his skill. There were a few broken bones and many, many, bruises along the way. But he didn't care, he was determined. As his mother often said, “Tenacity!” The one word had stuck with him for years.
By the time Al was in his early teens he had earned a black belt in Aikido and had honors in Fencing. It was also around this time that he was contacted about potential attendance at the 2nd Tactical Arts Academy. He was excited to attend and finally be able to help the world maintain what they had worked so hard to rebuild. When his letter of acceptance finally arrived, he felt a renewed vigor to follow the path he had been following for years.
• Armament:
• Psychic Drive:
Seventh Eye: When activated, Alistair's eyes process information at a greatly increased rate. This makes everything around him seem much slower, allowing for him to fight more effectively with seemingly inhuman reaction time.
• Sample Post:
“Al!” Alistair's mother's voice broke through the blockade of the headphones blasting American soft rock into his ears. She had also banged pretty hard on his door. “You're going to be late for school!” She was his coach, his alarm clock and his mother. She pushed him further than he would ever go and, as mundane as it seemed, she never let up on that. Not even when waking him up in the morning.
He had, of course, already been awake. “I'm up mum!” He called back, taking one earphone out, before she broke another barrier and barged into his small bedroom. The traditional katana he had been gifted, when he received his black belt, was mounted just above his door. It had noticeably shifted when Alistair's mother banged on the door.
“You've got fifteen minutes. Alright sweetie?” Her voice had calmed down.
“Yup, I'll be out in just a few.” He had just finished his fiftieth push up. As much as he didn't like it, he did have to train. Alistair had a very fast metabolism. He ate mountains of food and never gained weight. He had gotten into the habit of exercising for thirty minutes when he got up and before he went to bed, every day. He never seemed to hold onto much muscle. This was his life though, you could have all of the skill in the world but if you had no strength to back it up then it wasn't going to be terribly useful. Only the most practiced martial artists, who'd been training for more than forty years, didn't need any strength.
Fifteen minutes later he was in the people carrier on his way to school. He knew something was going to go well for him that day. And this had nothing to do with precognition.
