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    1. Riegal 12 yrs ago

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I'd like to express interest, if there's still room for more of that. Only have the beginnings of an idea for a character at the moment, but I should be able to get a sheet done for Thursday if that's necessary.

Reina Mori


Reina didn't have much time to think on her grand-uncle's words, though she appreciated the effort to cheer her up. As she was taken to a separate room where her quirk wouldn't adversely affect anyone around her, her eyes began to flutter. Without anyone else to worry about anymore, she was forced to recognize the complete state of pain and exhaustion she was in. She didn't remember ever being put to a bed, losing consciousness sometime between her grand-uncle handing her off and her being brought to a room.



Listless as usual, a middle-school-aged Reina undressed in the girl's changing room, P.E. having just been the class she had finished. She wasn't particularly tired, never putting much effort in--physical training came on her own time, since she was never out with friends or anything anyways.

As usual, she was slow to go the change rooms, preferring to be alone, though she heard some shuffling in another aisle of lockers. It was impossible for the girl not to tense up, well aware of the potential threat, though she chose to hope that it wasn't any of her tormentors.

That was a mistake.

Her gym top and shorts were off and draped over her left arm, allowing her to open her locker with her right. Her eyes widened after she swung the door open, staring at her bag--opened up, her regular uniform torn up and in ribbons.

A loud clattering near her feet made her jump, eyes darting to the tile floor to see a pair of scissors. Her gaze quickly moved down the aisle to see Shoko and her friends. Reina's heart sank.

"You ever notice how everyone avoids you now, killer?" Shoko spoke, calm and measured, yet terrifying as always. Her friends giggled on cue. It was all Reina could manage to muffle a pathetic whimper as she stepped back, prompting the group of girls to walk their way towards her.

"I know you notice. I just enjoy reminding you."

The other two girls with Shoko quickened their steps, grabbing Reina before she could back peddle away. One clamped a hand over her mouth as they brought her down to the cold ground roughly, Reina's panic muffled as she made a half-hearted effort to break away without her quirk.

Worse, the girl noticed she had dropped her gym clothes--all she had left to get home now. She began to make a greater effort to fight back, reaching out and clawing at the tiles to try for her clothes, resulting in her head being slammed against the hard ground in the struggle. Shoko reached down to pick up first the scissors she had thrown, and then Reina's gym clothes, still out of her reach.

The tormentor gave an almost imperceptible dry smile as she held up the red gym shorts, wasting no time before cutting a vertical hole in the crotch. She glanced down at Reina, poking two fingers through the hole.

"This would be useful if you actually had any boys looking twice in your direction. With how alone you always are, I'm sure you wouldn't hesitate to make use of it for some attention."

Shoko shrugged, as if to say it was a shame that that wasn't the case, instead cutting a few more times into the article of clothing, rendering it completely useless before tossing it away to the floor again.

The girl smiled dryly again, enjoying the whimpers coming from Reina. "I do love it when you're this obedient. Makes this all a whole lot easier for everyone."

Shoko turned her attention to swiftly ruining the gym shirt.

"It's already going to be terribly embarrassing for you to get home now, isn't it?" the girl continued to calmly taunt as she moved to stand over Reina, looking directly down at her. "It'd be even worse if I cut up your underwear."

That got another small bout out of Reina, as she tried to beg through the hand that muffled her. Shoko kneeled down swiftly into her stomach, eliciting a cry of pain from Reina and putting a quick end to the fighting. The girl brought the scissors to the middle of Reina's chest, sliding them under her bra.

Shoko paused, seeming to quietly revel in the distress Reina was displaying. Tears and panic, but a quiet compliance in what was happening. Everyone here knew that Reina could get out of the situation if she wanted to--she could kill Shoko and her friends if she felt like it. But she wouldn't, and Shoko knew that. Reina was actively fighting to keep her quirk zeroed out. Despite everything Shoko did to her, Reina refused to do anything about it, and instead accept it all. It gave Shoko a small shiver that she enjoyed.

The girl's eyes glanced towards Reina's hands. Her delicate fingers. Without cutting through the bra, the scissors slid away--this only caused Reina more distress, wondering what Shoko was thinking.

"Hold up her hand."

The other two girls complied immediately. Shoko slowly touched first Reina's index finger, then her middle, ring, and finally firmly gripped her pinkie.

"The least useful finger." The girl brought the scissors around the base of the digit.

Reina started to lose it. Her heart rate shot up, temples pounding as she began to forget about controlling her quirk. Locker doors slowly opened, and the hair of her tormentors began to rise, gently pulled towards her.

Shoko almost seemed entranced, slowly closing the scissors. Reina felt the blades pressing into her skin, breaking it. The weak girl screamed through the hand that muted her. She was really going to lose control. There was no way to fight her instinct under this sort of threat. She'd hurt more people--even if Shoko and her friends were awful, the last thing she wanted was to hurt Shoko again. It was her fault to begin with. It was her fault and she needed to get her quirk under control but she couldn't she couldn't she couldn't--

"Relax." The scissors were removed from around her finger. "Don't be such an idiot. I wouldn't be able to get away with that."

Reina paused, trying to gasp for air despite the hand on her mouth. Wide eyes stared first at Shoko's floating hair, then at all the locker doors in the aisles open and pointing towards her.

"Absolute bitch. Trying to put me on my deathbed again." Reina's quirk immediately gave way as her blood ran cold--both from the guilt that began to wrack her again, and the fury building in Shoko's voice.

The girl tried to apologize, but it sounded only like another whimper.

Shoko hesitated no longer. She swiftly cut Reina's bra, leaving a slight slice on the skin of the girl's chest. The clothing was pulled away by other hands while Shoko's went down to immediately tear off Reina's bottom, leaving her completely exposed now.

"The shower," she ordered. Her friends immediately stood to drag Reina along, roughly throwing her into one of the shower stalls. One of them turned it on, giving something between a yelp and a giggle as she hopped back quickly to avoid getting herself wet.

Reina shivered, under the stream of water, the floor painfully cold on her skin. She did what she could to cover herself.

"Left this in your bag," she heard Shoko say, prompting her to look up to see the girl holding her cellphone.

Of course. If Reina's heart could sink any lower, it would have.

Shoko held it steady, pointing the camera towards Reina. Reina winced at the first flash as her picture was taken, doubling her efforts to cover herself with her arms. The flash went off several more times before Shoko spoke again.

"Have fun."

She slid Reina's phone into her pocket, turning and leaving, the other two girls quickly following behind, leaving with their own taunts directed towards Reina.

In shock, Reina could only listen to the incessant drumming of the running water. Shivering uncontrollably and in tears, the girl curled up against herself tighter and leaned into the wall, allowing herself to sob without holding back. In her mind, she only focused on repeating to herself that this was normal for her. It was deserved.

It was the only thought that made her feel just slightly better, in one way. Worse in others.

It took over a half hour before anyone else entered the changing room and found her. Reina hardly cared about the embarrassment anymore. She couldn't come to care about anything. She had felt numbness before, but never to this complete degree.

Time passed and she found herself in the school's nurse's room with spare clothing a size too big on her. Eventually, her parents came to pick her up--apparently this incident was big enough for her school to contact them, and for them to take some time away from work. There was some yelling between parents and principal. It was almost comical, how suddenly her parents seemed to care about her.

She was at her locker now with her mother. She was going to be transferred to another school. That was great news. But she couldn't seem to care. She found her phone taped to the locker, eliciting some sort of concern from her mother. It wasn't worth hiding. Reina confirmed for herself that the pictures taken of her had been posted online, making her mother even more furious--angrier than she had ever seen her.

It didn't matter. The girl deleted the pictures from wherever she could as they made their way back to meet with her father and leave the building for the last time. Those photos would be somewhere in the world forever now. Not like that changed much. She was always alone before, and she would always be alone after. The stares and whispers would continue. Tranferring schools wouldn't change that. There wasn't a bit of hope left in the girl. There wasn't a bit of anything left in her.

Reina was nothing.



Reina awoke, staring at the white ceiling above. She had to take a moment to remember where she was. The hospital. After having fought a villain one-on-one for some time.

She glanced down toward her body, seeing her right arm in a cast and sling, and her left wrapped in bandages. The girl wiggled her body to assess it, noting both her legs, and much of her lower torso was also wrapped up. Everything still hurt, but maybe less now. It was a duller throbbing, rather than sharp stinging.

So she realized there wasn't much to do but wait. The girl drifted in and out of restless sleep, occasionally interacting with nurses and eating. Other than that though, she was stuck inside her own mind, memories of her past being dredged up every time she began to doze off.



"Reina-chan! Come on already!" a young Shoko called out.

Reina stood in front of her house's front entrance, trying to lock the door solely with her quirk. It took a lot of dexterity--and she could do it... but it was usually a fluke that took a while. And they really didn't have much time today, since they were already sort of late for their first day of middle-school. Reina clicked her tongue and locked the door like a normal person, quickly bolting off after Shoko. The pair veered off their path a few minutes later to reach the house of another friend, Rumiya.

The girl was waiting outside in front of her home, brightening up when she saw her two friends.

"What took you so long? I was getting worried," she said to the two as she made her way over.

"Reina was working on her quirk again," Shoko replied with a smirk.

"Still planning to be a pro hero?"

"Of course. No reason that'd change over spring break," the quietest girl of the group replied with a small shrug and sheepish smile.

"Well the most immediate problem is not being late right now, so let's get going already," Shoko said to urge them on.

A while later, Reina found herself in her new school's gymnasium. Everything seemed to shine with the new school year and the nervous energy of the hundreds of students packed together, yet something crept in the back of Reina's mind, souring the experience. Dread, guilt, and torment, that would all originate from this large room.

A chaotic, sudden flash of the future overcame her. A familiar panic over took her body, her quirk pulling and pushing wildly, her body instinctively trying to protect itself by any means necessary. A wall of the gymnasium is brought down, taking part of the roof along with it, all the heavy pieces of rubble barrelling towards her and those near her--



Reina awoke with a start for the dozenth time that day. She stared at the hospital ceiling again for a long moment, deciding she was fed up with being trapped with her own thoughts. She needed something to focus on--without anything, she was going crazy.

The girl slowly forced herself out of bed, gently standing on her own two feet, though she kept a light grip on the bed next to her for a few minutes. Her legs were shaky, but more than usuable. Reina almost smiled to herself as she began to move around the room deliberately. Being able to let go of her quirk and walk around like this was one upside of having a room to herself.

After several minutes had passed, she made her way back onto the bed, repeating the process and taking care to avoid moving around when a nurse was likely to pop into the room. Everytime she stepped off the bed, she stayed off it longer, even going ahead and doing some light exercising.

As time slowly went on though, she found herself still growing restless and frustrated. Time spent recovering like this was time spent not improving herself. The girl found herself standing at the window of the room, staring out blankly. She let out something of a growl, gripping the plastic knife in her hand from her most recent meal more tightly, spinning around in a fit of energy to swing it as though it were a blade, mimicking some of the movements Takeshi had taught her. The girl held a readied pose for a moment, before relaxing and sighing, turning back to the window and letting her forehead hit the glass with a dull thud.

"Get me out of here already," she said to no one.

Her attendance at Komei was beginning to change her. Where there had once been nothing, there was now the determination that she had only had in her childhood before. Reina was no longer nothing. She had a goal, and, for the first time, she truly believed she could at least partially reach it. She would put herself through hell over and over to pay her dues. She could do that--the staggering resolve was there, and this recent incident was some proof that she had the necessary power.

It would take work, though. A lot of it, but it didn't matter how much. She'd do it. She would.

The girl stared into her own eyes reflected back in the window.

She'd do it, or there'd be no reason for her to be alive.
C a m u s T u k o




“Luck isn't the only reason I've made it this far--so follow my lead, or we're both going to end up dead in a hurry. Don't know about you, but I'm not ready for that just yet.

... And stay out of my fuckin' head, yeah?”
Cam Tuko

Personal Dossier

Name
Camus Porter Tuko

Age
19

Gender
Male

Origin
Evis, Epsilon Eridani System

Appearance
Camus is a bit lanky, standing at 6'1" with a lean build. He has the distinct combination of bright blue eyes and blonde hair, the latter of which is kept at a medium length and is more often than not a bird's nest atop his head. His skin is fair to match his eyes and hair.

He usually dresses in uniforms to standard. Despite the formal wear, however, he carries himself rather lax. His hands are often in his pockets, his eyelids half-closed as though he's ready for a nap, and his general body language being very relaxed. Even when he gets heated, he won't appear much more aggressive than that. When he is dressing casual, he'll stick to dress pants and shirts, though will wear them much more comfortably--loose tie, sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up, a jacket on his shoulders if it's suitably cold, and the like.

Personality
Steadfast and even-tempered--with a slight, ever-constant lean towards the aloof side of things--Camus is difficult to get a reaction from beyond relatively subtle facial expressions. Despite this, he's a surprisingly good 'people person.' He has an easy time reading others, and intuitively understands how he can best interact with them in almost any given moment. Grossly empathetic, he is quick to be burdened by the troubles of those around him, and has developed a bit of a self-sacrificial nature; he hides this under his subdued personality and oft purposefully mildly abrasive rebukings directed towards squadmates for doing things he considers stupid (especially in regards to piloting valkyrie). It's not something he enjoys doing, but accepts the trade of temporarily hurt feelings in favour of better pilots--it's what will keep them all alive, after all, and though it's not something he'll make an announcement out of, the last thing he wants to see is his comrades injured or killed. He always quietly watches out for people, and therefore isn't keen on taking shit when it comes to the life-or-death situations pilots often find themselves in.

By the same token, Camus is also quick to direct blame coming from authority figures towards himself, and is harder on himself than anyone else. Having always focused on being a Physical Coordinator, his eventual assignment as a Tactical Coordinator instead shook things up. Still not used to the role, he's prone to anxiety, though he can ignore it when he's doing his job--and somewhat when he's not, with the help of cigarettes and alcohol. His position as TC has begun to grow on him, however. While he doesn't have delusions of grandeur, the thought of being a 'hero' of sorts is appealing to him. This stems from his desire to help and protect those around him, and so the rarer nature of those with the aptitude to be TCs and the role's heavier focus on being an overseer of the battlefield is slowly becoming a point of pride for the boy, beyond the already massive privilege of being one of the very few in the universe to be able to pilot a valkyrie to begin with. It's a duty he takes seriously, despite his flaws. Along with his willingness to put himself in danger for the sake of others, and a lack of qualms with what he must do for that goal, it makes him a good--if sometimes terrifying--soldier to have on your side.

The boy has his insecurities, like any other young adult. Not particularly excelling in any real skills in comparison to the other valkyrie candidates leaves him wondering if he's really good enough to be assigned to such a powerful weapon, and he has fears of bringing others down due to this percieved lack of talents. What he does have, however, is that unbending drive of his, pushing him forward even in the most hopeless situations, and even capable of turning him into a demon possessed to accomplish his goals. Borderline psychopathic levels of willpower can make up for a lot, but it also brings with it it's own set of complications.

Background Information
Though it'd be difficult to gather from looking at him now, Camus comes from the slums on the outskirts of a megacity on the terminal line of the tidally-locked planet Evis. He'd be much quicker to call the place a 'shithole' rather than 'home.'

Still completely uncertain what happened to his parents, he only has the vaguest memories of them that stick with him. Minor conflicts (relative to the great space battles going on in the galaxy around him) around the slum he was born in forced him and the rest of the population to relocate. Following a group of children of various ages, the then five-cycle old Camus found himself in the lower streets of the city's more modern downtown.

Learning quickly that no one cared about him but himself, the boy fought for scraps to keep himself alive. The literal underside of the sprawling city was left mostly to its own devices by official authority, the problem of lawlessness too far gone to neatly fix in any reasonable amount of time. It was during his time spent here that Camus first learned what it was like to take another's life. First it happened indirectly through theft, when he took what little food a random man had left. When the boy had returned a few days later to see if he could nab anything more from the man, he found a lifeless body.

Not long after, Camus found himself in a conflict with a boy a few years older--one of the ones who had run from the same slums. The boy had caused plenty of trouble for Camus in that time, and this fight was particularly heated and nasty. Survival instinct drove Camus to make sure the boy (as well as the small crew of his that witnessed the fight) would never bother him again. In fact, after the fight, that small crew began to answer to him when any of them ran into him, which was interesting, though not something he ever asked for. Despite their pasts with each other, he found himself beginning to care for them, his nature fighting against everything the world had taught him thus far.

At the age of nine, Camus caught wind of Kalian Cyris, and with him knowledge of the existence of valkyries. The story completely captured his imagination. For the first time, Camus had someone he looked up to--and a desire to go beyond the streets he lived in. The stars began calling for him, and dreams of piloting a valkyrie like Cyris helped his sleep.

Opportunity first came knocking two cycles later in the form of violence and tragedy, as it tended to. Camus had finally angered the wrong sort of people; a group of real criminals tracked him down, and killed at least two of the boys in his 'crew.' Camus himself was kept alive, the men seeing value in having him work for them. Of course, the boy wasn't very onboard with this at first, but upon learning that 'working for them' meant moving around space in a ship, he warmed up to it. He still hated the men, of course, but he'd learned to take the good with the bad in life.

He lived for the next half-dozen years as essentially a child soldier for this militaristic criminal group. Forced nearly daily to do things that completely went against his moral compass, the boy came close to losing it multiple times; it was here he really learned to kill emotions, and to do what needed to be done to keep himself alive. Though he was even assigned one of the few mechs the organization had, it became difficult for him to continue dreaming of being like Kalian Cyris--after all, it was hard to imagine Cyris being an active part of heinous criminal activities, even if it wasn't something Camus really had a say in.

At age seventeen, the group he was with had a bloody encounter with a Confederate force that vastly outmatched the. Camus fought in his mech for some time, before realizing that this event could be his ticket out of his current life. The boy turned his guns on his captors (one of the many acts of his that still haunt him), managing to surrender and exit the unit he was piloting before being blown to pieces.

Over the next months, Camus made his case, knowing imprisonment for his connection with the criminal organization was likely. The key may have been his performance in that decisive encounter, as an offer was made to him: if he attended Taiyōtawa's academy, he'd be put on probation rather than jailed. Of course, this was the easiest decision in his life, so the boy accepted and then excelled.

While his conscious was far too stained for him to ever aspire to be like Cyris, he worked himself to the bone to be able to pilot a valkyrie, and begin to make up for the damage he had been forced to do to the lives of others.

It didn't take long for his potential as a Tactical Coordinator to be revealed, and the powers that be forced him onto that path despite his requests. Camus was none too happy about this to begin with, but as he began to distance himself further from the ideal of Cyris he held in his mind, he began to grow into the role of TC.

Camus has never really had a place to call home--shockingly, the Academy is the most stable enviroment he's been in, and due to this, he's been quick to become attached to it and the people he works with. The interactions he has here are incredibly normal compared to what he's become used to, which has taken adjustments on his part. Most difficult of all has been a sort of pressure to open up to others, especially his partner, which he's not too keen on--the boy takes pride in his ability to remain level-headed, but if someone were to see beneath the surface, they'd quickly find out what a nervous wreck he is, even if he never lets that affect his performance.

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
Tactical

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■■■■■
Endurance | ■■□□□
Instinct | ■■■□□
Intellect | ■■□□□
Aaand for review.

Beginning work on my character~

Hoping to get her done tonight, but depending on how I progress it might have to come tomorrow.
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