Name/Nickname:Tripp Puckins
Race: Goat Faunus
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Weapons/Equipment/Armor: Arcadian KnacksA giant collection of identical throwing knives, black as night and slightly curved, but designed to embed itself into whatever surface it could latch onto. The end of each handle is equipped with a small compartment that opens up entirely to reveal what seems to be a small barrel and various contraptions and mechanisms. They all look like basic throwing knives and can be thrown at incredible speeds and with almost perfect accuracy, making them lethal alone. However, each knife is equipped with an assortment of compact traps: a laser, remote activated detonators, proximity mines, and razor thin, sharp wires that are almost impossible to detect. Every knife is interconnected with each other, meaning Tripp only needs one knife to active all of them and if he does happen to expend them all, the holo-watch on his wrist is also wired into each, allowing him to use voice commands as well as manually activate all of the knives.
Each does exactly as the name says, emitting lasers that are able to cut through most things, creating controlled explosions in a 5 meter vicinity around each knife, creating proximity mines that further plant themselves into whatever surface they were thrown onto, or emitting sharp, nearly undetectable wires that embed themselves into surfaces in the direction the handle is facing. As well, each knife can be manually activated prior to being thrown, so that not every knife triggers the same trap. The explosives inside the knives' handles, to make it less of a hassle, are shot above the knives, which are designed to be very, very resistant to explosions. There is a delay in the mines where the handle pretty much shoots out the compact explosive device, coated in a sticky substance for the added lethality, and then explodes. The laser is directly built into the very tip of the handle, shooting out a high powered beam from within (the explosives are untouched by the intense heat and are coated with insulators to make sure, in cases of overheating, they don't explode within the handle) and out the butt of the knife. The barrel, which funnels the laser, is also designed to shoot out the sharp wires and their anchors.
Coupled with his semblance, this in particular makes him an adversary to watch out for, as he is quite adept at laying out traps and making it very difficult to maneuver around a battlefield.
He has approximately 200 knives placed all around his body, most of which are hidden from plain sight and all of which are sheathed into compact forms out of necessity, though all of them are within reach for quick draws. As well, his watch contains a device that sheaths all the knives and return them to their handler; he's still working on this, so it's faulty at best and can prove to be somewhat unresponsive... or a little too responsive.
Semblance: Midsummer QualmsTripp's semblance, a turquoise color, exudes itself in a large radius, affecting anyone within a 50 meter range. The semblance is a purely defensive affinity that affects the mind of people within its range. It works to pretty much make Tripp invisible in the sense that he becomes unworthy of attention and is considered harmless. Sadly, it's an effect he can't quite control and it makes for quite the lack of company as it works both to conceal him in combat and to undermine him in social interactions. At a greater extent and about half the range of the passive effect, Tripp can manipulate people within that range to actually be blind to him, meaning he's technically invisible to people until the effect wears off or he gets out of range. The latter ability can be activated and deactivated and is the only part of his semblance that actually drains his aura.
Anyone strong enough or with a semblance that counteracts this will definitely be able to see him and notice what a threat he can potentially be. Most teachers are able to see past his aura, as they have strong enough minds to do so.
Hobbies: Playing the Violin, Nature Walks, Wishing People Would Notice Him
Bio: While it's considered taboo to treat Faunus as slaves, it's not an uncommon practice among the more cruel bigots, under the guise of 'cheap labor'.
Tripp was born in such circumstances, though was considered an oddity from the get go. His mother and father looking perfectly like normal humans, minus their usually trimmed horns and flappy ears. He, on the other hand, was born with all of that and even more; hooves, legs of a goat, light trimmings of fur coating his entire body, and horns that simply wouldn't stop growing, and the most unusually blue-green spiraling irises. However, at first glance he seemed odd, unnatural, but the second you did a double take, he immediately seemed... not ordinary... just not worth anyone's time. Though his parents shared the usual bond, they soon fell under the same spell and almost completely forgot they even had a son immediately after their second child was born, this time an ordinary specimen for a pair of goat Faunus.
So, Tripp went on in life doing menial labor, cleaning, cooking, whatever his 'master' told him and even then, he was usually just stuck in the same place doing the same damn thing for who knows how long until they remembered he existed. It made leaving extremely easy, having just walked out with a few items he could pawn off in broad daylight. No one seemed to notice, much less care. Though, someone eventually was punished in his place; that tidbit is, however, unimportant. From there, he lodged wherever he could, eventually coming up to Signal Academy at the perfect age to enroll. He'd done what he could, having pondered over the idea for who knows how long. He had found he had a knack for stealing because he'd always go unnoticed and eventually sneaked into a Signal class to design his own weapon with whatever he was given. The teachers there, though somewhat suspicious of him, eventually conceded and treated him as any other student, much to his delight, though it became a competition with his own semblance to be able to be further noticed in the classroom.
Having hardly any combat potential, Tripp spent most of his days studying and working hard, often training alone when no one was around. He made due with what he had and, after a year at the Academy, began to excel farther than he thought possible. Tripp was innately intelligent and cunning, he just had to apply his base knowledge to combat, of which he did hours of in Signal's library. He hadn't a home to stay, hadn't anywhere to find shelter, so he used Signal as a makeshift home away from a home he didn't have. No on questioned it, in fact, no one knew he was even doing it, much less cared. The Academy was equipped with all the basic human and faunus necessities and he couldn't have taken care of himself much more. It was his small haven and he'd grown quite accustomed to it.
Getting into Signal was easy, a piece of cake, but showing Beacon how much potential he had was the truly difficult part. If not for the distance brought upon by a letter application, he probably wouldn't have even been looked over for a place in the renowned school. However, he soon found the teachers there were much more adept in both mind and body and could clearly see through the ruse his semblance displayed. It was no longer a fight with himself, but a fight that could actually showcase what he picked up throughout his years doing nothing but hard work and learning. In fact, the kid he had to duel, in which they were both judged on their performance, had actually thought the fight was a joke.
The fight lasted approximately two seconds. Two seconds it took for the kid to fall right on his face unconscious; Tripp needn't move a hair, though he did apologize profusely later.
Beacon, equipped with its own housing units for both teachers and students and a giant food court and as much air as any one could suck into their lungs, became Tripp's new home. Granted, the students... again... didn't really pay much attention to him, but the teachers were more than gracious with their's. When truly looked at, Tripp was a star student; he might not have been the best fighter there and might not even have been prime candidacy for a job as a hunter, but he made up for it with the diligence only he could know and the brains to back it up. His own semblance worked against him, so he had to overpreform in whatever he was assigned or whatever he put his mind to and he grew accustomed to that.
Lucky enough, most Grimm tended to fall under the qualms of his semblance as well and either overlooked him for more worthy prey or thought him easy enough to chomp down on. Which made the attack on Beacon not much of a difference from any other day to Tripp... aside from the killing and... well, maybe it wasn't. However, at the end of the day, Tripp was the only one standing out of all of his team, people who were maybe... slightly warming up to him. And he was, again, thrown into the frying pan the next year... with absolutely no one he could could a teammate, much less a friend. Depressing or not, it was more incentive for him to work even harder.
Personality: A sense of excitement always on his features and a smile to hide away the pain so deeply shoved inside. He's by no means a tragic figure, just one that has been accosted more than once by various unfortunate events that, through the years, created a very guarded and cautious individual. With a large sense of duty, he believes in hard work to achieve one's dreams and can be overly generous and selfless in that he resigns himself to menial tasks out of a deep desire to be noticed or to find at least one friend in the world. Being afflicted with the semblance he was born with, Tripp is very familiar with feeling and being alone, especially in large crowds, so it's not hard for him to want to fill that hole that's always been in his life with just about anything he can think of, which can end up causes more issues than solving them. His overbearing nature can even come off as a bit abrasive and desperate, which is entirely true for his situation.
There's nothing quite more that he wants than to be noticed and to fill the undeniably large and imposing feeling of loneliness that's plagued him since birth. But, in his ruminations, he's become quite skilled at reading people. As well, he's had the free time to hone various skills and study various things; he's a bank of, what he likes to call, useless information and will often chime in to proclaim facts in a 'did you know?' style. He often does this in a quiet voice and is often talking to himself most of the time. Most of the time, though, he likes going over various stratagems and battle plans, looking over combat scenarios and battlefields to test his own knowledge, and then applying what he's learned to his own combat. He's not also a master of laying out the most extensive and complex traps, but also quite the tactician as well, which usually makes up for his lack of melee power and battle presence in general. He's not the strongest fighter, so he makes it exceptionally hard for anyone to actually get to him, much less hit him.
Appearance: Among the more prominent looking Faunus, Tripp's gruff looking appearance, muscle-bound, tall, somewhat gangily due to unusual hooves, contrasts deeply with the intellectual sharpness of his facial features. The well defined nose sitting at a perfect angle, observant eyes that never reveal too much, but pierce into whatever they decide to unabashedly gawk at, and his sharp jaw defining his face completely with a turquoise colored beard, the color that actually dominates most of the hair on his body, as well as his stark and unique spiral eyes. Built for agility and flexibility, his muscles are more suited towards endurance than pure strength and especially toward speed. The horns grow quicker and longer than most of his family's, usually becoming a burden if he doesn't keep them in check.
He can't necessarily cover his giant hooves, but people tend not to notice him, so it doesn't necessarily matter. He usually wears a form fitting, black, combat vest that holds various compartments and pockets which contain mostly his knives. On occasion, he wears a target visor over one eye, which he assures is simply an aesthetic and that he can definitely prove it. Around his waist are two loosely fitting combat belts where all of the compartments and storage units are pretty much just cases filled with more throwing knives. As well, there are various holders for the assortment of throwing knives he carries that are strapped onto all of his limbs, since not even his vest could hold everything in it. He has a rough time finding spaces to hold other things... so he usually doesn't carry around knick-knacks or things he can't simply carry in his hands. He also wears a long necklace with a light green colored gem that hangs over his chest.
Post Sample:Another day... another frustratingly wonderful day.
"And who.. are you, again?" the baker looked up from his spot behind the counter, eyeing the creature before him.
Tripp, daunting in size that only his large, turquoise furred hooves could be accounted for, let out a tired sigh; he'd told the man his order about fifty times over the span of an hour. "Tripp Puckins, I ordered the honey glazed donuts."
"Um... oh, yeah, we'll get right on it," the baker gave him a confused smile and turned to walk back into the kitchen.
The only thing that kept Tripp standing there was the grumbling in his stomach. It demanded attention. But, he'd often have to deal with this, learning now that it was always an uphill battle when any kind of social interaction was thrown in his face. If not for the basic necessities that every living being had to deal with, he'd gladly have locked himself in his room.
Shaking his head, he let another customer cut in front of him—he'd have to do this another fifty times before he finally got his donuts. Basic necessities that entailed intermingling with society weren't the reasons why he was attempting to actually be a part of the community. He had to at least stop lying to himself; even if he could have locked himself in his dorm, he wouldn't. He craved companionship in its most base form... maybe not its base form, but definitely one on a platonic level. By no means would he actually resign himself to his obvious fate. Though his training made his semblance stronger, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he could one day control it. It was just a matter of getting there and of truly understanding himself—
"How may I help you?" the baker came back, handing a bag of pastries to the student who had shuffled in front of him. The man's eyes were trained on him.
Another sigh... "A box of honey glazed donuts... please."
"Right away!"
