Raijinslayer

You Can Become a Hero!

heroically addressing: @LemonsKayo, @FeyblueIzuna

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"Ahhhhh, yeah that'd make sense. Was a little hard to tell if it was all the 1st years heading that way from up on the building." Justice didn't say anything about the taller student's face slapping or wide-mouth staring. She had likely been stunned by his entrance and needed to take a moment to compose herself, unlike the green-eyed girl she had been talking with before his arrival. In her seemed to be a kindred spirit, given her earnest, but respectful, applause, earning them a wide grin from the flamboyant young man as he sought to give a bit of an encoure.

With a flourish, Justice twirls out a small flashlight from his blazer pocket, flicking it on to reveal a surprisingly intense beam to shine into his palm. Rather than making a small spotlight, however, the two girls would see the light waves seem to almost split around his hand, colaescing into thin strands of light that quickly began to soldify into a soft neon white rod about the size of a ruler before the boy flips it off. Flipping it between his fingers for an added bit of showmanship, he uses it to point the way to the assembly hall while giving a short bow. "Glad you liked it, Mi-Me and I look forward to being in a class with you both."

"But enough of that, we should prob get going, yeah? Our tall friend here can't be having a good time out in the cold like that." Justice gestures to the taller of them with the light rod as he takes a step towards the hall, though his eyes glaze over briefly as he seems to lose himself in thought for a moment. The smile on his face fading into a look of deep concentration as his attention focuses on something in the distance. Suddenly, the light rod in his hand begins to rapidly dim, it's form rippling and shaking until it suddenly bursts into pieces in his hand. As if on que, the young man seems to come out of his stupor, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he quickly turns away with a sudden laugh. "Sorry, lost focus there for a moment, what was I saying. . . oh, assembly hall, right? Getting out of the chill, maybe getting . . . I'm sorry, I don't think I either of your names? I've been really. . . really rude, haven't I?"

When Justice turns back to the two, his smile seems a bit. . . less than before.

KOKO-Box

Hmmm,fishy features so it would be surprsing if it was a a water generation quirk, but shouldn't someone in Isshin have better control than this if just my appearance is the cause for this discharge. No, let's not be judgemental, she passed the test so she is clearly a hero of great promise same as yourself. Not only that, but according to the one book on Quirk Theory by Proffessor Wagner, strong emotions could be a plausible cause for even the best Quiork users to lose control. Perhaps more than shocked caused her to react in such away. . . love at first sight perhaps?

Nah, I'm not that good looking epsecially in this kinda tacky uniform and besides, her nerves don't seem focused on me that much. Though she is looking a bit fidgety. . . and there is the flashing. Similar signs on sea creatures tends to be a sign of some kind of distress usually, but some also uses it as a signal of courtship. Unconsciously perhaps. Could try to provoke a response if we get to know each other more but that's be rude if she actually did feel that way. Akira would definitely. . . have something. . . to say.

Stop it

Don't think about them

THey're doing their own thing now, you're doing yours.

They made themselves perfectly clear, after all.

You need to start growing up, Terada.

You've got everything, so why do you keep clinging to me, Terada.

YOU'RE JUST AN EMBRASSMENT TO THE WHOLE FAMILY, TERADA

Stop thinking about it. It's fine. You're fine. No one here knows you No one here knows Akira. No one here cna complain if you just wanna stay in your room for a few hours, No dad to complain about you not eating.. You finally got out of your room. You can make frineds. Who cares what Akira says. You're not pathetic.

YOU'RE JUSTICE. . . . . . . _{You're justice}. . . . _{you are justice}. . _{. .you're never terada}. . . . _{No one wants to be around terada} . . . _{not any more}

You Can Become a Hero!

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"ISSHIN ACADEMY!! I! HAVE! ARRIVED!!!!!"

The call, no, the maddened scream came from above as a figure launches itself from one of the nearby buildings towards the school grounds. Flipping in the air with a joyful abandon, their peril was quick to tuirn to spectacle as an object in hand burst into a flash of bright golden light that soon formed into a curved hook to catch onto one of the decrated tree limbs that lined the streets.

Once, Twice, Three times would the loud figure whirl around before momentum finally launches them forward into a rather rough looking rollalong the snow covered ground, the slick icy terrain taking them a bit further than they ended until they finally find their feet, skiding to a stop right before a green-eyed student and taller one with white hair.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaannd saaaaaaaaaffffffffffffffffffffe." Justice bellows as he comes to a stop just short of crashing into the green-haired girl, arms pinwheeling a bit inan effort to balance himself out as he got toa more steady footing. Running a hand through platinum blonde hair, the student gave the two girls a dazzling smile and a snappy salute as if he hadn't been about to crash into them. "Heh, Sorry about that, misjudged my landing but I'd say that's not bad for a first try with no practice, run, huh?"

As he stood there, the two could see that while the boy had 'spruced up' his uniform, mainly in the lapel and the bottom edges all having the kanji for Justice sewn onto them in a bright gold thread. He'd also replaced the buttons to shiny golden ones as well.

"The name's Justice or Justice, take your pick really, and I . . . am a bit lost. Do either of you know where Class 1A is supposed to gather? I'm pretty sure my dad told me about it but I, uh, can't say remember much about the conversation."

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Interacting with:Lienna@Obscene Symphony, Rudolf@Scribe of Thoth

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As enemy forces charged forth from the thick fog in a storm of wind and flame, Ezekial could not help but mutter a curse under his breath as he quickly backsteps to protect Celeste from any coming attacks, his blade drawn and at the ready as he noted the sniveling form of the Mage scamper into the mist.

" Simpering coward. . .," The young man took advantage of the dense fog to let his disgust for the move show on his face, but didn't have the time to say more as the sound of footsteps from behind cut through the cries of battle that surrounded him.

Turning with a quickness, he barely managed to catch the blade of the footsolider attacking, deflecting it off to the side and then shoulder checking the man before he had a chance to fix his footing, making space between him and Celeste.

"Leave him to me, Celeste. Keep to the middle and watch for more attacks from the fog." *He didn't bother to made sure she heard, having to trust in her for now as he steps forth to face the soldier, who had now recovered and charge forth to swing at the Gloucester boy. He answers with a quick twist of his blade, deflecting the strike tot eh side at the last moment as he takes a quick side step.

Back straight, foot forward, breathe calm. Another strike, another deflection, the man's anger apparent in his gait as he charges now, holding his blade in two hands. The soldier swings wide. . . and Ezekial spots his opening. Drawing in a breath as the glow of his crest sparks over his forehead, the young swordsman ducks under the blade swing in a moment of superhuman speed. Before his assailant could even finish his swing, Ezekial's rapier launches out from below to pierce through his neck and turns his cry of surprise into a strangled gurgle. Ezekial klet his gaze meet the dying soldier's as their weight suddenly fell onto him, expecting some feeling of guilt, revulsion, or even fear to come over him as he made his first true kill. He'd heard time and again that such things were normal to feel, that it was no simple thing to take the life of your fellow man. But as he pushes the man off himself, the red stain that covered his gloves and armor did no more to distrub him than if they'd been the result of spilt wine.

There was nothing.

He felt nothing for this ma- no, this pile of cooling meat that had once been a man. A simple fact that left him feeling colder than the mist that seemed to cling to him so strongly now, the sounds of battle fading away as he took a moment to gather his wits. It wasn't until he heard one of the other student's yelling that he came to his sneses, looking to stare at the source of the commotion. It was a girl, he couldn't remember who she was, but she seems to have struck by a stray arrow. Her attention, however, was more focused on. . .

"By all the. . . if you're going to be a coward, at least do it properly." Ezekial once more drew a breath, digging into the power of his crest ot surge forward, moving past the caster in order to get to the mage boy. THey needed every source of firepower they had if they were going ot get out of this, and if the idipot wasn't going to hide in a corner, then Ezekial wans't about to let him die now if he could help it.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Interacting with:Albrecht@Asura, Clarissa@Achronum , Location: Garreg Mach Monastery

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The young Gloucester let his hand fall as he thought a bit on Albrecht's question, tapping his fingers against the desk.

"I suppose so. it's always nice to get a wide array of contact with those you'll be dealing with in the future." Ezekial night have tried to embleish his opinion's a bit around others, but with Albrecht he was confidant enough that he didn't need to fully out on the mask around the boy. It wasn't like he was-

"Good Morning, Professors."

All thoughts freeze as Ezekial turns to face Clarissa with a polite and practiced smile, even if the sight of the Edmond girl did cause a sudden spike in his heart rate. What in the hell was she doing here?

"If you're offering, than who would I be to refuse?" The young noble responds easily to the invitation, though part of him wondered if pleasanties were all the girl had in mind. While not prone to dishonesty or subterfuge in all the time he'd known her, it did feel like an odd request. While their relationship was mostly cordial, she had made her position as one of the fiercest wolves out for his throat quite clear. Still, he had little reason to refuse, and didn't wish to appear needlessly rude to the new faces that started to stream in after Clarissa. "Set a time and I'll be glad for a short chat over. . . Lavender, perhaps? Or well, maybe after Lavender in this case."

Ezekial turns his attention back to the board as the teacher of the same name starts to go over their current mission: cleaning up after the church's mess it seems. Ezekial held back the urge to sigh, wondering why the such vaunted Knights couldn't handle some common dissidents themselves. For all the bluster they spew about being some of the best worries, they sure did take any opportunity to have Academy Students get involved in their business.

Still, it's the duty of the nobility to protect their vassals, so I must do my best. Still, with me, the slob, and the choir boi leading the frontlines I have to wonder-

" -- Celeste Gloucester will strengthen the backline."

Huh?

Once more the noble felt as if his heart rate had doubled, this time letting out a hiss breath as it took everything he had not to let his anxiety show more than that.

It's fine, she's in the backline, she'll be safe with the teacher's, she definitely won't get lost in the mist and . . . fuck. No. No. Calm down, you knew she'd be sent out on these kinds of missions, she's being trained just as you are, and if worst comes to worst, you'll be around to make sure it doesn't.

Ezekial looks between the two volunteers for the advance unit, deciding his pride would have to take the hit here and they'd have to be enough for it. Jorah, at least, was a decent shot and had a better nose for danger than most. Still it irks him, not being part of the advance team, but he had more important priorities than cleaning up after the Church right now.

You Can Become a Hero!

_______________________________________________ // INFO D A T A Full Name - JUSTICE, The Hero of Righteousness(Seison, Terada) Hometown - Hokkaido, Sapporo District Japan Quirk Type - Emitter Gender - Male - // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Paragon Justice is a young man of rather big ideals of justice and what is "right" and "just", always pushing for fairness and equality to the point of irritation for some. Due to his rather. . . bold personality however, this often leads to him getting into vocal (and sometimes physical) conflict and confrotnations with those who don't share his view or that he catches going against it. The boy isn't completely without empathy or an idea of nuance, but Justice isn't a persona of subtly and often he finds himself pushing the issue by virtue of these personality extremes. Brash Justice tends to solve problems in the most direct way possible, finding the act of trying to work around issues to be just delaying the inevitable, so why not just rip the bandage right off. This leads to him having a very "tell-it-like-it-is" way of speaking where he often sounds a lot more harsh than he generally means to be. Sometimes Justice catches himself Surprisingly Intelligent Many people assume that Justice is just a *bit* of an idiot, due to his loud personality and lack of a filter for any thought that passes through his head. And while Justice does have some slight issues in his development of social skills, the boy often proves his nay-sayers wrong with his test scores and a head for quirk theory. In fact, Quirk research is a back-up plan that Justice has mentioned to his family in the (abyssmally low) change that he decided to do something other than hero work, maybe even serving as a teacher.

Physical Description Justice stands at about average height for a boy of his age, standing out by sheer virtue of his brilliant platinum blonde ahir and vibrant eyes that he often styles to be as attention catching as possible. He has handsome if somewhat effeminate features, tho whichever way he wants to come off is decided on the day as he dis through his sizeable wardrobe. When it comes to fashion, he often goes for either very loud and eye-grabbing clothes or settle for loose and baggy when it comes time to jus trelax or walk around the time. As for his physical ability, Justice always works to keep himself in peak fitness, at times tending towards over doing it which has left him in some pickles during his training. Still, that leaves him with a lean athletic build which has even started to see a bit of definition as of late, a fact that he has often bragged to his family about much to their irritation. Personal History Terada has never been alone. Born with a twin, living in a family of 6 tha tquickly become a family of 8 once his younger siblings were born, he has never once really known of a time where he wasn't with at least one other person at all times. Akari, his twin, has always been tinkering with gears and electronics in the bed next to his, his mother has always been hovering just out of sight, keeping an eye on her troublemaking middle child lest he cause some other incident requiring her to run damage control on. Even when him and Akari found themselves gettiing older with no sign of a quirk popping up, the two often took solace in the fact that the misfortune was shared. It was during typical altercation with some know-it-all older kids trying tp push Akari around, did Terada finally get a slight feeling of what it would be like to be lonely. One moment, he was swinging at the bullies ineffectually, a feeling of anger and frustration building up in him as he wanted to make this kid stop already, only for the world to be consumed in a bright flash of light. Everyone screamed out in shock, including the teacher who'd come in to break up the fight, but Terada's vision seemed to recover quicker than the others. As such, he saw, before Akari managed to hide the expression away, the most devastated expression he'd ever seen planted across his twin's face. That look haunted Terada for a long time afterwards, evne as he tried to smile and accept the congratulations from the teachers, from his family, his parents, the face Akari had made, some mix between sorrow and outrage, really hit the boy in his core. Because it came with a question: "What if Akari. . . doesn't want to be around me anymore?" This one fear, this early dread of being without one of the closest people in his life, is likely what drove Terada into his next action. Upon seeing the same bullies from before starting to circle Akari and pick at them, did he suddenly feela surge of outrage and . . . determination fill his chest. And in that instance, yelling at the top of his lungs for the bullies to stop, in that moment, the persona known as Justice was born and his desire to become a hero for the people. Character Arc Justice has no friends. The only people he's been really "close" to are his family, and now he's away from them, in a lone apartment with a stranger, and having to deal with the fact that his closest sibling, Akari, has begun avoiding him despite all he feels like he's done to help them. Justice is, to say the least, got in a bit of a rutt emotionally and this has led him to double down on his persona even if internally he knows it's a bad move. But going on from here, the thing Justice is hopefulyl going to learn is A)just toning it down a bit and accepting the realities of the job when compared to his fantasies about hero work. B) he needs to learn to not just hear people, but actually listen when others are speaking and take their opinions to heart, rather than only giving them some token consideration. While not exactly a bad guy, Justice has taken to a veryhead strong approach to thigns and will brute force his way through social awkwardness, a habit he needs to break. Lastly, he just needs to learn to grow up. To realize that there is only so much he can do as a person and that he can't protect everyone by himself, no matter how much he wants too. quirk wise, Justice will likely learn to increase the size and strength of his constructs, as well as being able to manipulate them without having to be in direct contact with them. Also making solid constructs with even ambient light since currently, he's limited to more focused, high intensity light to make his stronger constructs. He alsot could learn to shift wavelengths and structure of his constructs to give them the appearance of normal objects for more sneaky uses of his abilities, tho they'd always have a bit of a tell-tale glow to them. Quirk Description Known by the name of BURNING JUSTICE, most will find little about the Quirk to be either firey or particualrly tuned towards Judicial process. Instead, this Emitter Quirk allows Justice to harness light into physical constructs, making for quite the diverse powerset that would make him an assesst to any Hero Agency when he grows up. While Justice has done much to hone his Quirk, studying books on the science behind quirks and taking every opprortunity at home to train with it, he still has quite a bit to learn and master before he manages to reach the full potential of it. As such, in order to really get the full potential of his Quirk, he often carries around a number of high powered flashlights to make for an easy light source to draw from, since high intensity sources of light are easier to condense and draw from then more ambient that exists in the daytime and what not, though he is certainly able to draw from that as well. Such constructs tend to be weaker and more prone to breakage. Another aspectof this quirk, howeever, that most are not quite aware of i sthat the strength of his constructs is also bolster by his own confidence in himself, and thus through hyping himself up he can usually make bigger or somewhat more complicated constructs the more motiviated he is, thouggh vice versa, if his will inhimself is sufficiently shaken than his ability to form things suffers as well. This has led Justice to go for a "less is more"approach to using his powers, supplementing his abilities with tech to better hide the shortcomings that may come if he's ever doubtful of himself or in a particularly funky mood. Simple geometric shapes that take relatively little mental energy to maintain are his mainstays, while the current outer limit of what he can do with some level of ease is greating and maintaing a sort of photon body armor that takes on the highly shock absorbent properties of his constructs. Justice has rarely pushed himself ot his absolute limit when it comes to his quirk, however, so he doesn't really kow the upper limit of what he can create, self-doubt always creeping in the back of his mind often making him decide any attempts would end a bit disaterously.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Interacting with:Albrecht@Asura , Location: Garreg Mach Monastery

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"A strong enough guess, I'd say. I wonder if it's that time of year." Ezekial glances towards the map with a scanning eye, recognizing the terrain from his studies. "Magdred way, known for it's dense forestry and occasionally even denser fogs. I don't know terribly much about the area, but it would make a suitable place to train for fighting at a disadvantage if the fogs are up."

That, and provide a perfectly reasonable excuse for a little 'training accident' if one was so inclined to cause one. Anything could happen in the fog, after all. The young gloucester didn't let the sour thought show on his face, though one might notice a slight shift in his eyes as he gaze lingers on the professors. Before another moment passes, however, Ezekial merely shakes his head as he turns his attention towards the Adrestian boy's attempt at small talk.

"Ah yes. I will admit that having a chance to properly how my swordsmanship gives me a bit of exciement, even if it might not be what my family had wished for me to learn. The Leicester Alliance is known for it's bowmanship, after all, but it never really appealed to me when I was younger. Besides, by the time I grew into my title, I had already become too attached to the blade to really give it up. That said," He raises a hand to conjure a small sigil of Thunder between his fingers, letting arcs of electric energy dance between them a bit before he letting it dissipate harmlessly. "Never hurts to cover your bases if you come across a foe that you can't easily reach on foot."

"But enough about me, what kind of things have you been studying, Albrecht? You always seem to fly by most of our classes, I assume you have a free hour or two to spare for your own side interests?" Ezekial smiles as he returns the idle chatter back to Albrecht, though truthfully he didn't think the boy would have much of interest to say. While undoubtably skilled, Ezekial was certain that anything the Adrestian would dean to share with him would be very droll and typical of such a diehard devotee of Seiros. He'd met dozens of such characters before and he'd not doubt meet dozens more that would bore him to tears about praise and worship and other such things. While he did hold a grateful spirit towards the Goddess, her followers tended to be some of the most long-winded speakers he'd ever met.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Interacting with:Albrecht@Asura , Location: Garreg Mach Monastery

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Breathe In

A moment of silence, soon followed by the clashing of blades in rapid succession. Thrust to counter thrust, riposte into a quick assault, a deft deflection into another parting. The swordsman held his blade at the ready, electric blue eyes never leaving the imagined opponent he faced, only letting his tension ease when he heard the toll of the bell ringing out from the Monastery's clocktower. With a twirl of the wrist, he fits the tip of the blade up to the edge of his sheath and slides it closed in a single deft motion.

Breathe out.

"That would be. . . sixth bell, I think?" Ezekial mutters to himself as he looks around the training room. Proffessor Lavender had given their class a bit of a free period for the day. . . except for him and a few others, much to the young Gloucester's slight irritation to have his studies interrupted so. But such are his duties, both as a noble and as a student, and so he cuts his training short.

Gathering up his belongings, Ezekial walks outside into the open courtyard as he heads for the classrooms wondering what errand thneir proffessor had for them now.

---

Ezekial came in shortly after Albrecht had arrived, having taken the time to wash the sweat and grime of training off him.

"Good Morning, Professor Lavender." The young Gloucester walked in with his finest smile, giving a small salute to the woman before moving to the other teachers in turn. "Same for you both as well Professor Tomai, Professor Michail."

Some form of soecial training exercise with another class? Odd, but not unheard of. Ezekial pondered the presence of the other faculty but didn't say much on it as he moved to a seat towards the front of the class as well nodding to Albrecht even if he wished he could afford some distance from the young man. Not out of any true distaste but just. . . something about the sincerity of the Adrestrian's manner felt so unbelivable to him every time he talked to them. Still, a distrust for sincerity was no reason to be rude or hostile, so he offered his fellow student a smile as he settled in. Besides, better to stick to someone familiar for now, rather than potentially drawing attention by avoiding him.

"Good Morning to you as well, Albrecht. Any thoughts on why Proffessor Lavender called us here today? A Mission? Maybe Training?" Perhaps roping her students into a plan to help her find a decent man for once. Ezekial chuckled to himself at the last thought, being somewhat aware that their professor's. . . assertive attitude had thrown off a few suitors. Then again, most of the suitors she tended to attracted were less than desirable so he really couldn't blame her for the poor luck. . . even if he wanted to tease her about it every now and then.

Before he'd gotten a reply, however, another familiar face walked into the room.

Ah, the busy body from Farghus is here as well, with the typical mouthful salute. Ezekial offered the girl a small polite wave as she moved to the middle of the room, wondering idly if that was her second danish, or her 22nd. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought the girl was a starving peasant the way she horfed down anything resembling food. Honestly, he found it a wonder she managed to keep a figure with all she ate, but given the amount of work she always seems to be doing, the stress and constant momvement probaly had a hand in that.

In any case, if she didn't want to engage with him than ezekial was fine with keeping to himself as well, having done his due dilligence to at least acknowledge her.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Ezekial Gloucester

"House Gloucester remains strong as it ever has been, to suggest otherwise is foolishness at best and. . . well. . . House Daphnel was far from the only one eyeing a spot on at the Roundtable."

Name

Ezekial Gloucester

Age

19

Country of Origin

Leicester Alliance

Social Standing

Noble, of House Gloucester

Crest

Crest of Gloucester [Major]
The power of this crest is to serve as a resevoir of magical energy within the body that Ezekial can call on to temporarily enhance his physicality, normally either his speed or strength. It takes time to build up this reserve, however, so he can't dig into it too much without draining it entirely. If he does drain himself as such, a quick wave of fatigue and vertigo will often follow, not enough to cripple the young lord but often leaving a wide opening if it occurs in the heat of battle.

Starting Class

Myrmidion

Weapon of Choice

Sword(Rapier)

Strengths

Sword and Reason

Weaknesses

Armor and Bows

Starting Spells

Thunder

Personality

Ezekial was once a more hot-headed sort, known for being a well-meaning, if a tad snobbish in his demeanor but always willing to lend a helping hand to those he felt needed the protection of a noble. This led to him gaining a bit of a reputation around both his home and the Roundtable Houses at large as a bit of a wild child with a most mercurial temper that made him as likely to befriend someone as he was to crack them across the face for a veiled insult.

This all changed when the House Ordelia took away his father from him, leaving ELias to not only shoulder the weight of firstborn heir all the more seriously. . . but to realize that the vague warnings his father had often given him about how his was a position earned through diligence and caution. Anyone from any house could reveal themselves to be a slavering wolf out for his throat, eager to drag him to the ground and tear him to pieces.

From that incident, Ezekial withdrew from the world and from many of his previous relations for a few years. When he once more appeared amongst the courts of the Alliance, he seemed an entirely different young man than before. Ever polite, every action disciplined, every emotion controlled, and every word planned out minutes in advanced. He seemed ever the proper young heir.

A very well crafted facade, but a facade all the same.

Beneath the mask, Ezekial holds everyone at an arms length, not willing to trust any from outside his House, and honestly, very ill at wase for many within it as well. In every noble he met, he saw another wolf licking it's fangs, waiting for even a moment of weakness or hesitation. Keeping the company of this Paranoia, however, is a deep, unabiding animosity for House Ordelia. His words about the House are civil, polite, and often dripping with venom as he sees them as little more than ambitious traitors who were lucky to have not been wiped off the map for what they did.

History

Born to Stefan and Henrietta Gloucester, Ezekial proved to be an intelligent if difficult child since his birth. Whether it was finding ways to sneak out of his crib as an infant or evading his nursery maids and caretakers once he managed to start standing on his own two feet, the Gloucester heir was known for driving his parents to frustration wih his mischief. Stefan, in particular, often personally atteneded to the boy's lessons in order to help ensure his behavior and continually attempt to press upon the young boy the importance of his position as the Archduke's heir.

"To be the Archduke is more than just a position of privlege," His father would often say. "for that privilege is something that many will covet. You must always be vigilant, and always be ready for the dangers that may strike from unexpected places, lest those who follow you become lost without your guidance."

Ezekial was mindful of his father's words but they never seemed to mean much to him until the day a messenger came to the castle, a grave look painted across his face as he asked to see his uncle. To this day, the young lord remembers the pitiful look the messenger gave him as he walked on by, saying so much with not a word spoken between them. The days that followed the murder of his father were a deadened blur of heartfelt apologies and attempts at silent whispers that belayed there true intentions. It wasn't until he stood before his father's gravestone,a bouqet of flowers in hand, that he realized the true weight of his father's warning. He felt every gaze among the court on his back, watching him for signs of weakness, sizing him up against the other prospects, muttering to each other about whether this boy would be able to take up his father's legacy.

The golden wolves baying and howling as they circled their gilded prey.

From that point onward, Ezekial through himself into his studies with a feorcity and dedication that surprised his tutors, the recklessness of his youth now left behind at the grave of his lord father as he realized what needed to be done to protect his family. Where before he'd avoid the frequent meetings to discuss the affairs of his lands, now he was the first to arrive in the meeting room with his liege lords. But as he took to his responsibilities, the servants found him to be ever the colder and more distant than the young man they used to see running through the halls. Rare was a smile ever seen on his face, and even those were often polite, fake things if he was not attending to the needs of his mother or sister.

When it came to the matters of the Roundtable, the young lord proved himself to be a staunch opponent and traditionalist in the face of Clarissa's more progressive viewpoints, often questioning the feasibility of her suggestions against the reality of their resources and society. She made clear her intent to take the title of Archduke for her family, but Ezekial was determined that if she was to take his familiy's position, she'd have to earn every single inch of progress she made towards that goal.

BEcause first and foremost to Ezekial is the desire to keep his family safe and the Leister Alliance strong in the face of external threats, and in Clarissa he couldn't help but see a threat to the stability of both.

Trivia

When he was younger, Ezekial fought with a more regular straight sword, often swing it with surprising strength in a much more brutish fashion, something his father always disparaged him for. His shift to a Rapier was done both to better fit the image of the noble heir and to exemplify his new outlook on his life through a fighting style focused on waiting for singular opportune moments to land devesating strikes on his foes.

His younger sister often calls him Zeke, and while he doesn't mind if she does it, anyone who tries to call him the same if his sister isn't there will often get a rather cold glare as a signal to cut it out immediiately

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Ezekial Gloucester

"House Gloucester remains strong as it ever has been, to suggest otherwise is foolishness at best and. . . well. . . House Daphnel was far from the only one eyeing a spot on at the Roundtable."

Name

Ezekial Gloucester

Age

19

Country of Origin

Leicester Alliance

Social Standing

Noble, of House Gloucester

Crest

Crest of Gloucester [Major]
The power of this crest is to serve as a resevoir of magical energy within the body that Ezekial can call on to temporarily enhance his physicality, normally either his speed or strength. It takes time to build up this reserve, however, so he can't dig into it too much without draining it entirely. If he does drain himself as such, a quick wave of fatigue and vertigo will often follow, not enough to cripple the young lord but often leaving a wide opening if it occurs in the heat of battle.

Starting Class

Myrmidion

Weapon of Choice

Sword(Rapier)

Strengths

Sword and Reason

Weaknesses

Armor and Bows

Starting Spells

Thunder

Personality

Ezekial was once a more hot-headed sort, known for being a well-meaning, if a tad snobbish in his demeanor but always willing to lend a helping hand to those he felt needed the protection of a noble. This led to him gaining a bit of a reputation around both his home and the Roundtable Houses at large as a bit of a wild child with a most mercurial temper that made him as likely to befriend someone as he was to crack them across the face for a veiled insult.

This all changed when the House Ordelia took away his father from him, leaving ELias to not only shoulder the weight of firstborn heir all the more seriously. . . but to realize that the vague warnings his father had often given him about how his was a position earned through diligence and caution. Anyone from any house could reveal themselves to be a slavering wolf out for his throat, eager to drag him to the ground and tear him to pieces.

From that incident, Ezekial withdrew from the world and from many of his previous relations for a few years. When he once more appeared amongst the courts of the Alliance, he seemed an entirely different young man than before. Ever polite, every action disciplined, every emotion controlled, and every word planned out minutes in advanced. He seemed ever the proper young heir.

A very well crafted facade, but a facade all the same.

Beneath the mask, Ezekial holds everyone at an arms length, not willing to trust any from outside his House, and honestly, very ill at wase for many within it as well. In every noble he met, he saw another wolf licking it's fangs, waiting for even a moment of weakness or hesitation. Keeping the company of this Paranoia, however, is a deep, unabiding animosity for House Ordelia. His words about the House are civil, polite, and often dripping with venom as he sees them as little more than ambitious traitors who were lucky to have not been wiped off the map for what they did.

History

Born to Stefan and Henrietta Gloucester, Ezekial proved to be an intelligent if difficult child since his birth. Whether it was finding ways to sneak out of his crib as an infant or evading his nursery maids and caretakers once he managed to start standing on his own two feet, the Gloucester heir was known for driving his parents to frustration wih his mischief. Stefan, in particular, often personally atteneded to the boy's lessons in order to help ensure his behavior and continually attempt to press upon the young boy the importance of his position as the Archduke's heir.

"To be the Archduke is more than just a position of privlege," His father would often say. "for that privilege is something that many will covet. You must always be vigilant, and always be ready for the dangers that may strike from unexpected places, lest those who follow you become lost without your guidance."

Ezekial was mindful of his father's words but they never seemed to mean much to him until the day a messenger came to the castle, a grave look painted across his face as he asked to see his uncle. To this day, the young lord remembers the pitiful look the messenger gave him as he walked on by, saying so much with not a word spoken between them. The days that followed the murder of his father were a deadened blur of heartfelt apologies and attempts at silent whispers that belayed there true intentions. It wasn't until he stood before his father's gravestone,a bouqet of flowers in hand, that he realized the true weight of his father's warning. He felt every gaze among the court on his back, watching him for signs of weakness, sizing him up against the other prospects, muttering to each other about whether this boy would be able to take up his father's legacy.

The golden wolves baying and howling as they circled their gilded prey.

From that point onward, Ezekial through himself into his studies with a feorcity and dedication that surprised his tutors, the recklessness of his youth now left behind at the grave of his lord father as he realized what needed to be done to protect his family. Where before he'd avoid the frequent meetings to discuss the affairs of his lands, now he was the first to arrive in the meeting room with his liege lords. But as he took to his responsibilities, the servants found him to be ever the colder and more distant than the young man they used to see running through the halls. Rare was a smile ever seen on his face, and even those were often polite, fake things if he was not attending to the needs of his mother or sister.

When it came to the matters of the Roundtable, the young lord proved himself to be a staunch opponent and traditionalist in the face of Clarissa's more progressive viewpoints, often questioning the feasibility of her suggestions against the reality of their resources and society. She made clear her intent to take the title of Archduke for her family, but Ezekial was determined that if she was to take his familiy's position, she'd have to earn every single inch of progress she made towards that goal.

BEcause first and foremost to Ezekial is the desire to keep his family safe and the Leister Alliance strong in the face of external threats, and in Clarissa he couldn't help but see a threat to the stability of both.

Trivia

When he was younger, Ezekial fought with a more regular straight sword, often swing it with surprising strength in a much more brutish fashion, something his father always disparaged him for. His shift to a Rapier was done both to better fit the image of the noble heir and to exemplify his new outlook on his life through a fighting style focused on waiting for singular opportune moments to land devesating strikes on his foes.

His younger sister often calls him Zeke, and while he doesn't mind if she does it, anyone who tries to call him the same if his sister isn't there will often get a rather cold glare as a signal to cut it out immediiately

Hello all, I'll be your Gloucester rep for this RP. Sheet's not done yet, still need to figure out the all the kinks but hope we can all have a good time.

Vault of Rising Thunder.

Ezekial Gloucester W.I.P

"House Gloucester remains strong as it ever has been, to suggest otherwise is foolishness at best and. . . well. . . House Daphne is far from the only one eyeing a spot on at the Roundtable."

Name

Ezekial Gloucester

Age

19

Country of Origin

Leicester Alliance

Social Standing

Noble, of House Gloucester

Crest

Crest of Gloucester [Major]
The power of this crest is to serve as a resevoir of magical energy within the body that Elias can call on to temporarily enhance his physicality, normally either his speed or strength. It takes time to build up this reserve, however, so he can't dig into it too much without draining it entirely. If he does drain himself as such, a quick wave of fatigue and vertigo will often follow, not enough to cripple the young lord but often leaving a wide opening if it occurs in the heat of battle.

Starting Class

Myrmidion

Weapon of Choice

Sword(Rapier)

Strengths

Sword and Reason

Weaknesses

Armor and Bows

Starting Spells

Thunder

Personality

Ezekial was once a more hot-headed sort, known for being a well-meaning, if a tad snobbish in his demeanor but always willing to lend a helping hand to those he felt needed the protection of a noble. This led to him gaining a bit of a reputation around both his home and the Roundtable Houses at large as a bit of a wild child with a most mercurial temper that made him as likely to befriend someone as he was to crack them across the face for a veiled insult.

This all changed when the House Ordelia took away his father from him, leaving ELias to not only shoulder the weight of firstborn heir all the more seriously. . . but to realize that the vague warnings his father had often given him about how his was a position earned through diligence and caution. Anyone from any house could reveal themselves to be a slavering wolf out for his throat, eager to drag him to the ground and tear him to pieces.

From that incident, Ezekial withdrew from the world and from many of his previous relations for a few years. When he once more appeared amongst the courts of the Alliance, he seemed an entirely different young man than before. Ever polite, every action disciplined, every emotion controlled, and every word planned out minutes in advanced. He seemed ever the proper young heir.

A very well crafted facade, but a facade all the same.

Beneath the mask, Ezekial holds everyone at an arms length, not willing to trust any from outside his House, and honestly, very ill at wase for many within it as well. In every noble he met, he saw another wolf licking it's fangs, waiting for even a moment of weakness or hesitation. Keeping the company of this Paranoia, however, is a deep, unabiding animosity for House Ordelia. His words about the House are civil, polite, and often dripping with venom as he sees them as little more than ambitious traitors who were lucky to have not been wiped off the map for what they did.

History

Born to Stefan and Henrietta Gloucester, Ezekial proved to be an intelligent if difficult child since his birth. Whether it was finding ways to sneak out of his crib as an infant or evading his nursery maids and caretakers once he managed to start standing on his own two feet, the Gloucester heir was known for driving his parents to frustration wih his mischief. Stefan, in particular, often personally atteneded to the boy's lessons in order to help ensure his behavior and continually attempt to press upon the young boy the importance of his position as the Archduke's heir.

"Do be the Archduke is more than just a position of privlege," His father would often say. "for that privilege is something that many will covet. You must always be vigilant, and always be ready for the dangers that may strike from unexpected places, lest those who follow you become lost without your guidance."

Ezekial was mindful of his father's words but they never seemed to mean much to him until the day a messenger came to the castle, a grave look painted across his face as he asked to see his uncle. To this day, the young lord remembers the pitiful look the messenger gave him as he walked on by, saying so much with not a word spoken between them. The days that followed the murder of his father were a deadened blur of heartfelt apologies and attempts at silent whispers that belayed there true intentions. It wasn't until he stood before his father's gravestone,a bouqet of flowers in hand, that he realized the true weight of his father's warning. He felt every gaze among the court on his back, watching him for signs of weakness, sizing him up against the other prospects, muttering to each other about whether this boy would be able to take up his fathe'rs legacy.

The golden wolves baying and howling as they circled their gilded prey.

From that point onward, Ezekial through himself into his studies with a feorcity and dedication that surprised his tutors, the recklessness of his youth now left behind at the grave of his lord father as he realized what needed to be done to protect his family. Where before he'd avoid the frequent meetings to discuss the affairs of his lands, now he was the first to arrive in the meeting room with his liege lords. But as he took to his responsibilities, the servants found him to be ever the colder and more distant than the young man they used to see running through the halls. Rare was a smile ever seen on his face, and even those were often polite, fake things if he was not attending to the needs of his mother or sister.

When it came to the matters of the Roundtable, the young lord proved himself to be a staunch opponent and traditionalist in the face of Clarissa's more progressive viewpoints, often questioning the feasibility of her suggestions against the reality of their resources and society. She made clear her intent to take the title of Archduke for her family, but Ezekial was determined that if she was to take his familiy's position, she'd have to earn every single inch of progress she made towards that goal.

BEcause first and foremost to Ezekial is the desire to keep his family safe and the Leister Alliance strong in the face of external threats, and in Clarissa he couldn't help but see a threat to the stability of both.

Trivia

When he was younger, Ezekial fought with a more regular straight sword, often swing it with surprising strength in a much more brutish fashion, something his father always disparaged him for. His shift to a Rapier was done both to better fit the image of the noble heir and to exemplify his new outlook on his life through a fighting style focused on waiting for singular opportune moments to land devesating strikes on his foes.

His younger sister often calls him Zeke, and while he doesn't mind if she does it, anyone who tries to call him the same if his sister isn't there will often get a rather cold glare as a signal to cut it out immediiately