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It's my birthday! Another year towards twenty, woooooo
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Thursday - April 18th, 2019
Hallways of Hyakusawa Academy


"Kohaku-senpai, am I in trouble? Please don't tell me-"

"Stop being a pain in the ass."

Minase Kohaku
hated the difficult ones. They would never immediately listen to his direction, which wasted more of his time; he had better places to be than the school, after all, and the faster that the boy could see his quarry to the student council room, the sooner he could leave. Even if it was Gamma who always issued the requests, there were obviously plenty of reasons why the student council president would want to meet an individual student besides being in trouble. Over the years, he'd noticed how much Gamma truly cared about the school and its population that frankly, he couldn't see how it was even possible. He always made a point to sit down with every single student at least twice each year, discussing subjects ranging from any personal troubles to academic futures; it was all for the sake of their own good, after all. It was something that Minase respected from his best friend; meeting all those people took a hell of a lot of time and energy, something that he would've found too exhausting. He heard enough whining at the arcade and his work, anyway.

Of course, this distinction was something that these first-years wouldn't know. The moment that they heard 'student council president' was when they began to write their own insecurities. Minase dropped his shoulders with an agitated sigh, digging into his pocket for a notepad that contained a list of names that were crossed out except for the last one. Class 1-D, first-year, Sasaki Tohru... short girl with black hair. His vision darted between the scribbled note and the student before turning away from her, motioning the girl to come along. "Just... follow me, Sasaki-chan."

As he looked through the corner of his eye, Minase was relieved to see that Tohru was finally cooperating, albeit still reluctantly from the way she quaked in her steps. 'Smooth,' he buried both hands and sarcasm into his pockets, keeping to himself as he could feel a dozen eyes watch them turn down the hallway.

"Kohaku Minase?"
"That's the Warden?"
"He's kinda scary looking..."
"I hear Nishimura-senpai makes him beat people up!"
"A delinquent in the student council?"
"Don't get in his way."
"Shh!! ..or you're next!"


He didn't give a shit about what small talk and rumors other people tried to spread. His student council duties were one of the few things that Minase enjoyed; it was only Gamma and the others who truly cared about him, who truly accepted him. People enforced his image as the Warden of Hyakusawa Academy like it was a bad thing, yet if it was to uphold his best friends' virtues, he would gladly embrace that title. Ensuring that Tohru was still following him, they were eventually met by the warm smile of the student council president.



Very eloquently dressed beyond ordinary student standards, Nishimura Gamma stood a few inches shorter than him, roughly average in height. His features were well-sculpted and handsome, his neatly-combed black hair just shy of falling over dark blue eyes. His complexion was naturally darker compared to most, nearly considered exotic in that regard. Every aspect of his best friend's appearance screamed student council president. "You've done such a good favor for me, Minase. As always, I apologize for putting this responsibility on you."

"For you, it's no problem," Minase stepped off to the side to allow Tohru to come forward, seeing Gamma study the girl intently before looking back up to him in the ensuing awkward silence. "Well, uh... I'll leave you to the meeting. Smell ya tomorrow, Gamma."

Just before the boy could start towards the stairway, Minase felt a surprisingly firm hand plant down onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "Before you leave," the hushed voice of the student council president lingered close to his ear in a whisper. "For tomorrow..."




Mentions: @AmpharosBoy @Ambra

Friday - April 19th, 2019
Hallways of Hyakusawa Academy


Class was always a hit or miss for him. Depending on the content of the subject, Minase was only truly invested in their History teacher's lessons; on the flip side, he did not welcome the migraines that Mathematics wrought upon him. His grades weren't even too bad for someone who was as disinterested and allergic to studying as he was, and more often than not, he found himself being scolded by the faculty for not applying himself. The boy just didn't see a point to all of it if he was just going to end up competing with others for the chance of having a future, anyway.

When the time finally came for their dismissal, Minase was the first to gather his belongings and shuffle out of the classroom. Though, instead of throwing himself into the downpour, the boy perched his back against the wall parallel to the classroom's doorway, pulling out the notepad to see who he was looking for.

CLASS 2-D, SECOND-YEAR, CHIHARA SEIYA - BLACK HAIR WITH GRAY EYES


Chihara Seiya was in the same class as he was, though the boy only knew her by name and the fact that she was a rather quiet girl that his classmates often sought assistance from with their schoolwork. To Gamma's surprise, Minase didn't even know what she looked like other than his fairly useless notes. Just about every other girl has black hair, you dumbass. A finger tapped against his temple as the boy carefully looked over each person who exited the classroom, drawing an exasperated sigh before opting to call off his search for the day. The notepad in his hand cycled with a cell phone, tossing a quick text message to Gamma about postponing the meeting for tomorrow before watching a certain someone bump into a girl at the doorway.

"Don't scare off another student, please. The student council already has enough problems to squash." Minase chided in the direction of the half-blooded offender, shaking his head with disgust towards Kenichi Richards before disappearing down the stairwell. He was not particularly fond of the other boy, in part of their heritage but mostly from their history of causing trouble. With the thought starting to get on his nerves, Minase plugged in his earphones, shifting his mind to ponder on which arcade he would go to for the afternoon.



(minus the eyepatch)


[Full Name]
Maelys Ernst Pleiades

[Alias]
Mael (preferred name)

[Affiliation]
The Syndicate of Cretus

[Starting Class]
Noble

[Status]
Heir to House Pleiades

[Crest]
Major Crest of Pleiades

[Age]
Seventeen years old

[Date of Birth]
22nd of the Hallowed Moon, Divine Year 764

[Appearance Information]
Mael stands at a modest 182 centimeters tall (or 5'11), and weighs around 79 kilograms (or around 175 pounds). He is said to bear a great resemblance to his grandfather in the latter's youth; his long facial features are well-sculpted, his strikingly natural charm attributed to his noble heritage. Many have observed that his thin eyebrows often narrow to give off sudden sharp expressions, his light blue eyes sharing that same articulation. He has medium to long, wavy dark brown hair that he prefers to comb back, going great lengths to style and preserve it each day. Spending plenty of his years basking in the sun, his skin complexion is moderately tan, considered an 'undesirable' trait for someone of his stature and background.

While Mael is a fairly slim person, his attention to conditioning has kept his body in a healthy, athletic shape, which he actively works to develop. He wears the standard Officer's Academy uniform in his own personal manner, preferring to keep the jacket loose and unbuttoned (similar to Sylvain) while folding the sleeves up to his elbows unless the weather is too cold or in the case of required formalities. He has tribal markings imprinted on his arms from the biceps to wrists, and wears a necklace with two colorful feathers and a keepsake attached.

[Personality]
Despite his heritage, Mael is unlike the usual pompous and superfluous attitude that most nobles portray towards their associates and subjects, preferring separation from formality in his everyday interactions. He has been a habitual troublemaker since early adolescence, never seeming to learn from all of the past scolding and reprisal. When the young man doesn't have the urge to scheme another one of his antics, he likes to take the passing days in stride, enjoying casual conversation behind a good meal. He is genuinely friendly and approachable, always looking to befriend others and be within the presence of his companions.

Though, when it comes to certain things such as sparring or contests of any sort, he can become fairly competitive against his rivals. Mael is devoted to his conditioning, possessing a strange fixation on becoming the strongest boxer and strengthening himself tirelessly to meet this ambition. To this end, he will accept any sort of challenge regardless of how ridiculous they may be, simply to prove his own power to himself, with the exception of monotonous tasks and chores.

[Personal History]
Born Maelys Ernst Pleiades, he is the grandson of Farfalle Roose Pleiades, the only Crest-bearing child of the noble family's bloodline. He was declared the heir to House Pleiades after his father, Bach, fell out of Farfalle's inheritance from the absence of their Crest. While Mael was considered his grandfather's child foremost than his own father, their enormous wealth removed any amount of difficulty from his upbringing, and the young boy found himself in the presence of caretakers and tutors more often than his own family. He would frequently prove to be a troublesome youth, for he would slip out of their extravagant abode to escape the 'boring' instruction against his grandfather's decree to play with the other children.

Through all of the stern reminders of the destiny set out for him, Mael accepted the inevitable responsibility of House Pleiades' future on his frail shoulders, however reluctant the boy may have been. His childhood was rife with marriage proposals and promised betrothals to many princesses due to their wealth, but Farfalle refused them all, citing anything short of perfection as meaningless to their name. At the age of ten, he was taken under the wing and personal instruction of his grandfather to undergo the Path of Pleiades, testing the mettle of his birthright when the time would come. Mael would be sent to the Officers Academy after his grandfather's sudden illness prevented the continuation of his grooming, where House Pleiades would await the return of a true man.

[Preferred Fighting Style]
Brawling

[Equipment]
Training Gauntlets, Vulnerary

[Learned Spells]
N/A

[Interests]
  • Battle training
  • Theater

[Likes]
  • Hiking
  • Fighting
  • Strength training
  • Acting
  • Spicy foods
  • Playing musical instruments

[Dislikes]
  • Responsibility
  • Board games
  • Cold weather
  • His family
I'll reserve the heir to House Pleiades if that's fine. CS will be up sometime tonight.
Interested~


I lied. I am scared.

Telling him wasn't any easier from the ebony smog that poisoned the air as the sky bled crimson. My expression mirrored his own, one draped with terror, a dread as overbearing as that monster played with the destruction of our land.

My throat burned of charcoal, a croak passing my soot-stained lips as the earth rattled again. And again. And again.

It's coming apart, I screamed.

But he didn't say anything. Just looked at me, frozen in fear. This wasn't him, the boy with tears welling in his eyes.

Please, save me. We're friends, right? You have to save me, I begged. This is all my fault, he finally spoke. His face fell to his feet, shaking his head in ruin. Wait...

Wait!
Come back!

My screams lingered, unanswered, the sight of his back to me growing smaller in the distance.








"Castiel!"

Castiel Pace drew a gasp as a sudden force sent the young man off balance, his footing stammering forward as his face lit with awakening. He would barely catch himself against the guard rail, only after his forehead struck against the stone. With equal irritation, a sound of irritation trailed his lips, his eyes searching for the culprit responsible for his assault. "Ahaha! Ya look like you've seen a pair of aldgoats in heat!"

"Thal's balls," Castiel cast a long frown upon realization, pulling himself back onto his feet and raising a gauntlet against his aching head. Had he truly been sleeping like such once again? And even after I rested early last night! Wheeling around to the individual, he found himself unsurprised. "Trying for some cheap shots before the match now, huh, Harper?"

A stocky Ala Mhigan of large frame, Harper easily towered over him, crossing his arms together as he tilted his head, scoffing. "Afraid to dent your pretty little face?" the Hyuran male spoke, a lax confidence about his features.

Castiel sighed, looking up to the darker male with a similar scowl.
"You forgetting how fast that one lass left you after what happened in that match of ours some months ago?" Half a smile began to rise on his lips, a lightness behind his voice. "I remember those nice drinks that she and I had on that night. And I definitely remember-

"Alright, alright," Harper seemed to admit defeat over the reminder, his imposing structure defusing into a wave from his hand and the onset of laughter. A closer friend to Castiel, he had been embroiled in a highly-publicized rivalry with the larger male many fortnights before, until his victory on the Bloodsands earned the fellowship of the Ala Mhigan. "Can't have you catnapping 'fore the match, an' you go straight fer the throat!"

Their conversation had persisted even throughout the ruckus of the Quicksands that occurred behind him. Castiel pounded his armored hand against his chestplate, wearing a smug grin with glee.
"What can I say? Ain't the Phantom Pace for nothin'!" he nodded with exaggerated swagger, much to the chagrin of his friend. "Yea, an' I'magine you finished just as quick with Ursula than ya did our duel."

"Poppycock," Castiel brushed off Harper's rebuttal, turning to watch the ragtag brawling that continued on. Always the same dream... His mind retreated into deeper thought, cupping his chin on the palm of the gauntlet. Yet, it's never in my body, in my shoes. It's always someone else; why? "Whaddaya want, anyway? Can't be bothered to have a drink with these whoresons pissin' over themselves."

Castiel turned his head as Harper stepped beside him, watching the Ala Mhigan speak. "Like I said, ya should stay focused. Today's matchups aren't gonna be a joke this time, I hear."

"That's what they always say," he interjected over the raucous music, drawing a sigh. "Always underestimatin' me like they did back then, but I-"

Turning his back to the undying brawl had been a folly as Castiel found himself struck with a chair, having been thrown hard enough to break upon impact with the back of his head and his armor. While his Ala Mhigan associate and some other patrons went to his aid, the young man wrestled himself from his large friend's grasp as he felt a pitch in his temper.

"Alright, ye dumb cunts! his shout brought the commotion to a pause, leaping over the guard rail with anger written on his expression. Castiel drew his sword, provoking the incriminating brawlers as he pointed his blade at them. The crowd seemed to die down from all of the fighting, with some realizing who the overseer was. "I don't mind a 'lil warm up before the tournament, folks! I could carve all o' you like a dodo for dinner!"





[Character Theme]
Nobuo Uematsu - "Gau" from Final Fantasy VI (Instrument ver.)







[Birth Name]
Castiel Pace

[Nickname]
N/A

[Title(s)]
The Phantom Pace (stylized as 'Castiel, the Phantom Pace')

[Race]
Hyur

[Clan]
(Doman) Midlander / Highlander (Ala Mhigan)

[Age]
Twenty-three years old

[Birthplace]
The Fortress City of Ala Mhigo, Gyr Abania

[Occupation]
Bloodsands gladiator

[Class]
Gladiator

[Gender]
Attack helicopterMale

[Deity]
Oschon, the Wanderer

[Sexual Orientation]
Heterosexual

[Personality]
A hot-headed and often obstinate plebeian with an eye for gil, such vanity befits that of the champion's demeanor. Castiel is an individual who elevated himself from the lowest dregs of society, boasting a grandeur vision of a life showered with what he considers his sacred trifecta: women, wealth, and wine. He is prone to quite the temper flare at a moment's notice, though this fiery temperament is usually tied to the confidence in his swordsmanship.

Beyond this, one may find a truer friend and companion in Castiel than he does himself justice. He hosts a great deal of warmth and compassion in his everyday life outside of the Bloodsands, and is never the one to resist a round of drinks at the Quicksand or any other fine establishment. His days are taken in stride, and with a relaxed outlook on everyday life, his quick-witted speech and sarcastic tongue make him a gregarious association.

Truthfully, the young man wishes to numb the heartache of vices past, conflicted with the pursuit of a precise purpose and setting his feet on an unknown path to redemption. Scattered over his being, Castiel unwillingly hearkens to these insecurities when the lull of sleep falls.




[Other Information]
Castiel dislikes wielding shields, although he understands their importance, and uses them reluctantly, sometimes in an unorthodox fashion.





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