Hello! I'm Yankee. I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc. I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic stories. I love fluff and whump in equal measure (well... maybe whump a lil more) I enjoy creating original characters for RP, but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games! On that note I like comic books, cartoons, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!
I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is once per week or less. I usually post on weekends. I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously. Remember: fiction =/= reality.
Feel free to PM me if you like, however I do not check PMs immediately. Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.
Barclay Waterfront University Campus : between 1000-1100 hours Harriette hadn't expected the student to startle as badly as he did. He must have been in a deeper sleep than she'd assumed. Though she tried to keep her features smooth and not embarrass the boy further, it was clear in Harriette's eyes that she felt bad about having spooked him like that. She would have gathered up the papers and left with an awkward apology, had she anywhere else to go. Since she didn't, that meant the both of them were stuck in an uncomfortable silence. Harriette murmured a 'thank you' to the student for giving her some more space. Just before settling in to get to work, and just after the room's other occupant had buried himself in his phone, they were joined by a third.
It was a female student, one that Harriette though she might have remembered the name of if her head had been in the right place. Then again, many students looked familiar to her. Even the young man in the room with them, when he'd raised his head Harriette had felt the tickling feeling of recognition in her brain. Harriette returned the girl's wave, and in response to her question Harriette nodded. After a moment of no response from the other student, the red head glanced over to find him still focused on the little screen in front of him.
"It's fine," Harriette said to the girl - Melly? Nyla? - speaking for both of them. "Long day already?"
While the room's new arrival curled up into her nap position, Harriette got started on her own plan. Essays were something she enjoyed reading usually. As far as the 'favors' she was usually asked for, this one was nothing. It wasn't too much work, nor was it degrading. In fact it was, literally, grading. She couldn't help but pity the poor students that had been assigned an essay over the break when they should have focused on spending time with their family. It was painfully obvious which ones were hastily written the night before. Dutifully Harriette marked spelling errors, grammatical issues, and questionable statements. At some point she thought about going easy on them. It would probably be a relief to most of the students, maybe even score their professor some points with them. Harriette spun her pen in her hand as she considered it. The work wasn't as good a distraction as she'd thought it would be. She was almost glad when someone cleared their throat. Harriette looked up to see the male student looking at her.
It was then that his name clicked in her head. Barney Rynsburger. He was part of the morning Principles of English Composition class she assisted with. The one they'd both been in just a little while ago. That explained his behavior earlier, and it must have been very embarrassing because in hindsight it did seem like he had been caught slacking off by staff. She cringed internally when Barney mentioned his performance in class, all but confirming what Harriette had suspected. She didn't interrupt him to correct the misunderstanding, letting Barney vent. He'd always seemed like a good guy, helpful and cooperative when his looks might have suggested otherwise. With other things on Harriette's mind that morning, it was safe to say she hadn't noticed any lack of motivation on Barney's part, but his genuine apology created a small pit of guilt in her stomach. She might not be a teacher quite yet, and they weren't far enough apart in age that Harriette could really say she felt any responsibility for Barney, but she hadn't even noticed that one of 'her' students was struggling.
"It's alright, I understand. No need to apologize." She remembered the struggles of being a Freshman quite well, and how she'd struggled to make ends meet before being able to afford college. She searched her still frazzled brain for anything she could say to encourage the young man, but he went on and pointed out something on her face.
"...of course I do," she sighed, hanging her head slightly. She'd been so flustered with one little incident after another this morning. How completely crazy she must have looked with her make-up smudged and a replacement top that didn't quite match her skirt, going from room to room looking for space.
"Thank you," she said, though she didn't sound particularly grateful. She pushed the essays in front of her into a neat pile out of the way and pulled a compact out of her bag. Third time's the charm, she thought, preparing to fix her face. At that point Barney was beginning to shuffle out, and Harriette was going to let him. She couldn't stand in the way of a student getting ready for their next class. After a moment's hesitated though she turned away from the small mirror in her hand and gave Barney her full attention.
"Barney, there are people and programs out there to help," she said, hoping it didn't sound too condescending. The guy wasn't an idiot, he might have already given everything a try. Harriette wasn't naive enough to think everything would work if someone just tried hard enough, but saying anything else felt like admitting defeat. She tried a smile on, but was sure it came out forced and more than a little lopsided, with half of her face cleaned and covered up and the other messy and tired. She swallowed a lump in her throat in preparation for the next thing she was about to say. "If you need anything, I'll do my best to help too. Otherwise what is my position even for?"
God, it felt a whole lot like lying. She had a lot on her plate already, all she'd be able to offer was disappointment if he ever asked and she couldn't come through. But if she couldn't even help one struggling student, what was she even studying for? Some teacher-to-be she was. Suddenly the last few years of her life felt heavier than ever. I can still do it. Just a little longer, and I'll move away. Start over, again.
She couldn't bare to look at the student any longer and so she didn't, going back to fixing her make-up. Every now and then though she would glance at the other student in the room, and eventually the girl's name came to her mind as well. Mila Ford. She was another of 'Harriette's' students, though in a different class. What were the odds?
"I hope we didn't keep you awake," she said softly to Mila, doing the finishing touches of her mascara.
Word Count: 633 (+1 exp) Level: 8 - Total EXP: 8/80 Location: Edge of the Blue - The Maw
The Cadet didn't quite take pleasure in hearing the little noises of pain coming from Moreau, but it was good to know that what he was doing was effective in some way. Enough to stall the mutant, at least a little. Between the little red head being a physical nuisance and Kamek a mental one, it was going alright. The Cadet even chanced a look around to see how Link, Nadia, and Junior were faring.
This was a rookie mistake. When he looked back to Moreau the monster was rolling onto his back. The Cadet was surprised, not expecting him to take such a position with all the exposed eyes on the top of his body. The Ace Cadet had been underestimating Moreau the whole time, treating him like a simple monster acting on it's instincts, but the mutant had a human brain in there somewhere - and now though the Cadet scrambled to get out of the way, he was too late when Moreau pushed up with his claws and tore apart the whole platform.
Very suddenly the Cadet was in the air. He'd been too caught off guard to even shout, just flailing his arms and legs silently as he was thrown. There was no slinger to save him or armor to help the impact from the fall. It was a few long, torturous seconds as he flew before he smashed into the group a few dozen feet away, landing amidst all of the scrap metal littering the ground.
It probably worried the others that he didn't immediately climb to his feet. The Cadet laid where he fell just blinking up at what remained of the upper catwalks and the darkness beyond them, trying to catch his breath. His head hurt, his stomach was cramping (though he didn't know if that was the curse or the fall, or both) and he could tell he was cut up from the small sections of hot pain in various areas of his body, but he was alive and otherwise alright. He could still feel his arms and legs, but they were heavy. Fatigue was definitely catching up to him now.
Slowly, gingerly he pushed himself to sit upright. His eyes snapped first to the present threat of Moreau, to make sure he wouldn't need to attempt a quick escape of the mutant decided to come after him. Then, he blinked down at himself. There were holes torn all over his clothes - as expected, landing in a bunch of twisted up metal with sharp edges resulted in a bunch of shallow scrapes, scratches, and cuts on his limbs and head. None life threatening, though most were bleeding lightly. Thank goodness he hadn't been impaled. Deeming himself healthy enough to move, the Cadet attempted getting to his feet. It was slow going, as it felt like there were weights tied around his wrists and ankles. This really, really Giggisux, he thought to himself.
He looked up again for signs of danger, and instead noticed that Mirage and Geralt had made their way into the area and were setting up a way to cross to the exit. It was good to see the former looked alright afterhis stint in that weird chair. So they'd made it! Surely the others that were in the Command Center would be making their way over soon as well. Reinvigorated, the Cadet gripped tight to a larger piece of metal with one hand and forced himself to stand. The other hand he'd noticed was closed around one handle of the clippers still like it had been his lifeline during his fall. His whole hand was white and shaking as he held onto it. Just a little more, they just had to hang in there a little more and then everyone would be out!
Thanks goodness everything was calming down. Botan could feel the relief spread through and her body untense more with every word the others spoke. Isla was speaking sense, Arlo and Ferris were apologizing, and Felix was still willing to group up! Truly the best case scenario considering the circumstances. Even when Arlo was dragging a few feet away from them by the newcomer, Botan kept the pleasant expression on her face. If they'd navigated through that little bit of drama, surely they could do it with whatever the blue haired man had going on too! While Arlo and the woman (who looked suspiciously similar to him... Botan would assume they were family, but considering the trouble assumptions had just caused she wasn't about to speak her thoughts aloud) talked, Botan clapped her hands together and addressed the rest of the group.
"I am so pleased to hear you say that Felix," she said, "and that everyone has apologized. I can see you are all mature enough to own up to your mistakes. Good, good!"
With tensions simmering down, Jarvis took a step back to give the humans some space again. Botan turned to him after the PA announcement and bid him to fetch her bags. There was a bit a staring contest between him and his ward, but in the end he relented and headed to the ship's interior. Botan turned back to everyone else.
"And I agree, Professor Gavins," she said, giddiness in her voice over Isla's title, "decency and manners! And patience! And... cooperation! We will all do just fine. Oh... I can't wait to get started."
Oh yes, everything was coming up Botan. She was about to explore an uncharted island. She was going to get her very own Pokédex. Maybe even some Pokéballs too, maybe she could catch her own Pokémon?! Plus her group was formed with some very interesting people in it, and for once Jarvis wasn't fussing over her. Maybe the Machamp was excited for their adventure too? It's been a while since he'd gotten out of the house properly. Fighting-types needed a lot of exercise, this would be good for him. For the both of them!
She hummed happily, waving at Arlo as he returned to them, and then at Ferris who was walking off to give another apology to the blue haired woman. Which, speaking of...
"Was that person someone you know, Arlo?" Botan asked, tipping her head curiously. "I'm sure we can make room for one more."
Barclay Waterfront University Campus : 1000 hours Just focus... get your head out of the clouds, Harriette.
The morning felt like it was just dragging on, and her mind was being weighed down by her earlier conversation with Rowen. In terms of previous interactions with the professor, that one hadn't even been that bad in hindsight - so why did she have this heavy feeling? Harriette's thoughts were stormy and unfocused, but she could only hope the sleepy students of the morning class couldn't tell. The first day back after break, most of them were interested in anything but the lesson, so her chances were pretty good. While the class was shuffling out, Harriette was idly sorting papers. It might not have been apparent to the students that she was wrapped up in her own head, but it was obvious to the English professor she'd been assisting.
"Are you alright?" The professor asked. He seemed more curious than anything, which Harriette supposed was the nature of scholars. All busybodies. Slowly her hands came to a stop, the stack of paperwork in her hand having been neatly stacked a couple times over already.
"Yes," she said. She didn't offer anything else in way of an answer at first, but it didn't seem like the man was keen to go anywhere without a little more reassurance. Nosy, she thought, but kept her silence.
"Well, if you say so. You seem tired," he said, and this time Harriette could hear the sympathy in his voice - but it wasn't what she'd honed in on. He'd said she looked tired. It nearly broke her right there. She didn't hear his next words about how the first day back was always rough, or how he hoped the rest of the day went better for her as he stepped away to go to his office. Tired. Harriette bit her lip, upset and nearly trembling. The old man didn't mean anything by it, but didn't he know you shouldn't tell a woman she looked tired?
Taking a deep breath, Harriette collected her things and hustled out of the classroom, heading right for the nearest women's restroom. She was glad to see that no one was in there at the moment, so when she slammed her bag on the sink and stared into the mirror she didn't feel like she was making a scene. I am tired, but like hell am I going to look it. Studying her face's reflection, Harriette determined that she could use a little touching up. There was a frown on her face that wouldn't seem to budge, which was probably making her look worse than she wanted to. She spent some time reapplying her makeup, and once she was more or less satisfied Harriette checked her schedule. There was plenty of time before her next class.
Alright. Let's try and get some work done, she thought. She opened the door and exited the restroom, only to run smack into a a shorter woman who just had to have been holding a drink in her hand. The collision itself was nothing, but it startled the younger student and the contents of her cup went flying, splashing the both of them.
"Oh my God, I'm - I'm so sorry!" The girl screeched, waving her hands in mild panic. She started babbling, running into the restroom and returning with wads of paper towels in her arms, which she shoved into Harriette's hands. "I didn't expect someone to - sorry, sorry! At least it won't stain I think?"
It smelled sweet. It was probably juice, which most definitely would stain. Harriette summoned all of the patience and calm she could find within herself and let out a long sigh.
"It's fine. I have a change of clothes. You - take care of yourself," she told the girl. Briskly, Harriette headed down the hall. Then down the stairs to the lobby, out the door of the college and to the parking lot. Unfortunately though she could eat in the faculty lounge, she couldn't park in the faculty lot, but the walk gave her some time to cool down. This morning sucked, but maybe with every little thing piling up now it would make the afternoon more tolerable. Alright, universe, just get everything out of the way now, she thought to herself as she reached her car and popped the trunk. As if granting her facetious wish, Harriette's phone chimed off a new message.
LR: essays on desk from morning class, by tomorrow. thx! 😉
"Still with the act. She must have had a great break," Harriette murmured to herself, reading the text over. Honestly, she was glad for the distraction right now. Working on something like grading essays was something she could focus on, and tune out the rest of the world in the process. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was around, Harriette ducked into her car and changed her top before making her way back toward the building.
While climbing the steps to the front entrance Harriette paused, noticing a long and thing crack in the concrete. When had that happened? Was there some kind of cold snap recently? Her eyes trailed the line and found that nearby where it ended, another one ran up part of the brick of the building's exterior wall. It was odd, it didn't move with the bricks at all, instead running straight over them like it was draped there. Harriette lingered, staring, but a gust of November wind urged her inside after a few moments. She headed towards a familiar office to collect the work assigned, and then looked for a quiet place she could settle down in. Unfortunately, but not unsurprisingly, many of the campus' study rooms were packed with people already. Friends catching up, students getting a head start on projects. Harriette would much rather keep looking than go back to the office, so she made the trek to the opposite end of the building in hopes of finding a room that wasn't at capacity.
She poked her head into one, and blessedly it wasn't full. In fact there was only one person in it, a student with his arms folded and head pressed against the table. Was he catching a nap or something? Harriette went in and placed her things down on a table. She didn't get the sense that the student was sleeping... maybe dozing at best. If she were in his position she would hate to wake up and see a stranger in the room with her, so she quietly cleared her throat before announcing her prescence.
"...studying?" She asked first, a lame joke for an icebreaker. Once she got the student's attention she gestured to the paperwork she was spreading out. "Do you mind if I work in here?"
At first things were going quite well. Excellent, even, although Felix didn't look quite as enthusiastic as his words would imply (he did say it was "great" and "exciting" after all). Botan's cheerful smile was in place while the three from the lower deck introduced themselves. She was especially excited once Isla and Ferris mentioned their occupations. An accomplished trainer and a photographer? Lovely, they'd have plenty of protection and some physical memories to share! Plus a professor? A real professor?! Botan's eyes were practically star-shaped. Isla probably knew all there was to know about Pokémon! Yes, everything was going splendidly.
Until.
At about the same time as Felix, Botan's face instantly resembled a tamato berry. The sudden heat blooming on her cheeks made it look like steam was coming from her ears too. "U-um, wait, we aren't..."
The follow up comment from Ferris was kind of harsh too - not to mention the butlers of the Naito family would never dress like that. Botan's quieter corrections were drowned out but Felix's louder objections. She looked a little hurt when Felix stepped away from her, but tried to compose herself after a bit of nervous laughter. Sensing that she was becoming distressed, Jarvis stepped up behind Botan for support - and to fix all of the boys gathered with a look of warning. Only Isla was spared.
"Well... s-sorry about the confusion," Botan said. She coughed into her fist to clear her throat. "Yes, he and I just met. We are all strangers... but not for long!"
The shore of the island was in view, so if the lot of them were grouping up they would have to seal the deal now, lest any of them wanted to take their chances finding a group once already on land. With this in mind, Botan brought the smile back to her face, but if it was a little smaller than before the only one who'd be able to tell was herself. She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer!
"I think we would all do well together," she said. Slowly she turned to Felix, giving him an apologetic look. "Which includes you. You don't really mean that, right...?" Botan glanced at the Mawile, hoping it could convince her trainer. Meanwhile a Pokémon came running up the stairs, followed by another and a young woman. Botan blinked in surprise. Maybe with his intrusion, the focus could shift away from Felix and he would reconsider? Botan didn't want to lose the person "she" recruited if possible.
Danyl Feytin is an archetypal rogue. He grew up on the slimmer side and favors practical dark colored clothing. The mark of his guild is tattooed on his spine where neck meets shoulder, and a simple patch covers the area where his left eye would be. Despite only having the one, lack of depth perception isn't a weakness of his so long as he is focusing (early mornings are the worst for it). He is dexterous, skilled with his hands, and learned all the simple magic tricks that would have delighted the friends from his childhood. He knows his way around a few types of blades, and though fist fighting isn't his forte he can throw a mean punch. Take one too.
He justifies his life as a thief, working among men that have much more storied rap sheets than him, by telling himself that his parents would prefer him like this rather than in a grave beside them. Still, shame lingers. His psyche, fractured by childhood trauma, colors his relationship with both possessions and people. He tends not to keep much of anything for fear of growing attached and then losing it. He tries to keep others at a distance, never close enough that it would hurt when they inevitably left. But people are harder not to get attached to, and harder to just give away, as it were. It's impossible for him to completely close his heart off, though not for lack of trying. The ghost of the boy he used to be must be buried somewhere within him.
Danyl is rough around the edges, but hard working and generally trustworthy despite his profession. He often tells people he's "a thief, not a spy," when they give him shit about his very obvious lying tell. With no real outlet for his anger he'd gained a bit of a temper as he aged, and though he isn't quick to violence he certainly doesn't shy away from it. The fire never really left him that day, its coals remained in his chest until he was old enough to stoke the flame and develop a hell of a want for vengeance. For Danyl, there is no moving forward from his past until he can cut out the part of him that hurts. Obviously cutting his heart out would kill him, so he has to remove the next best thing: the bandits that caused the pain in the first place.
The Feytin family was a peaceful and happy one. Town grocers; a thickly built husband, a plump and vibrant wife, and three healthy children with one more on the way. They lived in a large home that was always in need of some kind of repair, with an even larger garden that the whole household tended to. The patriarch held friendships far and wide through his dealings with merchants, and proof of his bonds filled the family home in the form of knick knacks and tapestry that enchanted his wife and children. It was a well loved and well lived in homestead, nestled deep in the hamlet of Ardenfeld.
Danyl was the family's middle child, affectionately called "Danny" by pretty much the entire town. He spent his youth happily gathering other children together and regaling them with tales of places far outside of their little village; his father's stories, with some fun embellishments of his own. He fancied himself mature beyond his years, but he still giggled when someone ruffled his hair. He loved spending time with Mary, exploring and showing off for her. Enjoyed every argument he had with Lyndii about whether something was true or not, and making up afterward over snacks. Was always elated when Shysca from across the way was invited to visit, too young then to realize his elder brother had a crush on her. After a rocky start that involved more than a few bruises he'd even befriended the girl Teth, as close with her as any other in the village.
In those days he wanted for nothing...
L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E
For a long time after the fire, Danyl wished that he had burned up too. He was a boy of nine years when he arrived at the orphanage, his once vibrant personality suffocated by grief. Life in Sarinan could have been worse, but for children ripped from their homes and families and suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar city and made to live with unfamiliar people, it was a whole lot of awful. The only thing that kept Danyl from complete despair was the company of his friends and fellow survivors. In the early days of the orphanage they looked out for each other. They encouraged each other. They were each others' shoulder to cry on, some more than others. And they would always have each other.
Until they didn't. One by one the Ardenfeld children left. Even though they'd promised each other that wherever they might go they would meet again at that town, Danyl felt his heart crumple more with every departure. Teth was the last, and when she asked if he remembered their promise he knew she'd leave him too. By the next night Danyl was the only one them still at the orphanage. Everything that had remained of his previous life was gone.
That he never fled wasn't surprising; he was not as brave or strong as some of the other kids. That he was never adopted was to be expected; no one wanted to take in a child that had something wrong with them. During the walk to Sarinan and in the subsequent confusion of the establishment taking on so many new kids at once, the injury he'd taken during the fire had gotten worse. His left eye had been punctured, and by the time healers had gotten around to taking a look it was too late to repair it. His vision had gone completely during the five years he spent at the orphanage. When he was released into the streets of Sarinan with no where to go and no possessions to his name he was a teenager, angry and emotional. He'd gotten over his want to join his family in the next world knew now if he didn't live on in spite of everything, then his family died for nothing. So he did live, scraping by begging in the streets of Sarinan.
O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H
Months after Danyl began roughing it as a street urchin, one of his father's merchant friends passed through town. The man had no plan to look after the boy, but he could at least give Danyl a ride to the capital city where surely opportunity awaited. That opportunity, it turned out, was being picked up by a thieves' guild. They called themselves Palla Orchids, a slightly facetious name, and they fancied themselves as 'noble thieves' stealing only from those that could afford to lose. Their captain was a man named Victor Mason who took the starving boy in. On a whim, he'd said, after the most amusing look on Danyl's face when he pointed out to the kid that pick-pocketing would fetch more coin than relying on charity.
The Orchids' base was more like a criminal hostel than anything. It was hardly a home. The Orchids themselves were certainly not a family, but for most of them this place and these people were all they had. It bred a certain loyalty in them, and the same went for Danyl. With some polish Danyl made a decent thief and burglar. Decent scrapper too, after Victor and some of the other men taught him how to fight.
Early on he was deeply ashamed of what he'd become. It was immediately apparent that the guild did not adhere to its noble tenets - but they were taking money and trinkets, not lives or homes. Nothing compared what their targets could be losing. Living there, being with the guild, was a whole lot easier and safer than trying to make it on his own. There, he wasn't greeted with pity or disgust. They traded jokes with him. They called him Danny. He never considered Victor as a surrogate father, but eventually he looked up to the man like one. And he'd always been so damn eager to please.
He spent five more years there in Pallaviel, honing his skill. It wasn't much, but it was life. He became a lieutenant in the guild for his as of yet unfailing service, concerning himself only with providing for the guild, keeping himself alive, and keeping his ear to the ground for any leads about a certain bandit group. He fulfilled the captain's every command, whether it was doing the jobs no one else wanted or chasing down deserters before they left the city. Day to day duties kept painful memories at bay on the good days, but they stubbornly clung to him. On the tenth anniversary of the fire, Danyl requested leave, prepared a small pack, and set out for what had once been home. His heart had been hurting all these years, and it was time to cut some of the pain away. He didn't expect any of the friends from back then to remember their promise. When they inevitably didn't show up he would be able to let them go for good.
A S H R A F A S H R A F
“Remember me! The man whose resolve burns hotter than the desert!”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
As the oldest child in his family, Ashraf In'nalai has certain responsibilities he must take on. Upholding the reputation of his clan of artisans and minor merchants is one such responsibility, which he feels he is already in danger of failing.
Two years ago, Ashraf failed his trial to become an initiate warden. Now he returns to Atutania to correct that embarrassment, success the only option in his mind.
Age: 18 Race: Human Nationality: Hahral Weapon of Choice: Spear and Javelin Elemental Affinity: Fire Spiritual Affinity: Light
On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Ashraf made the journey across the Sands of Hahral to the city of Atutania with ambitions to become a Warden of the Glade. He traveled with food, clothes, and a sword he was good enough to use for self defense. What he did not bring with him was any desire to protect the realm or its citizens, his goal driven only by self interest. Maybe that was the reason he failed his trial, miserably so. Beaten and humiliated, Ashraf returned home to Akoth where his family welcomed him with open arms. Somehow it was that which hurt the most, finding that the only person disappointed in him was himself.
The only reason Ashraf had ventured out to become a knight in the first place was to gain some status on behalf of the In'nalai. They were an old family in the Triumvirate, one of skilled glass makers and blowers who had practiced their trade since before Akoth's establishment. They had always been a small family, both in size and influence, forced to get into the mercantile business in order not to be taken advantage of by larger, wealthier clans. Ashraf would eventually take over as head of the family, and though he was one of the most talented in it at their artisanal craft, he was inept at the business side of affairs for the most part. He learned much better with his hands, rather than through lecture or literature, and unfortunately economics was not something he could hold.
Seeing as his father was still hale and had quite a few more years left in him until retirement, Ashraf conceived of a plan to strengthen the family's standing when he inevitably took over even if his mercantile skills weren't up to snuff: a career as one of the realm's knights. It would offer the In'nalai many advantages: prove the next head of the clan a man of valor and strength, instill the thought that the family was skilled not just in their trade but in battle as well, and gain the prestige of the wardens to make any unscrupulous merchant or noble thing twice before messing with them. Not to mention that during the time Ashraf planned to spend in knighthood, his father could use 'to teach his younger sisters the business side of things instead of wasting time trying to instill it in his dense son' (Ashraf's words).
Having vowed to return to the wardens and get them to recognize him, Ashraf poured all his time and effort into improving himself. His martial arts training was intense but necessary, though putting himself into the mindset of a protector was still hard for him. Over the years he worked, taking his goal much more seriously this time, and whenever he needed to cool down from warden training he threw himself into the heat of the family's glass furnace. At eighteen he felt he was ready to try again, and once more set foot on the road from Akoth to Atutania.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
Already familiar with the length and heft of a blowpipe, Ashraf swapped out his sword for a spear and never looked back. Though he found himself no good in the Hahral tradition of archery, he did have good aim in general, and when combined with his excellent hand eye coordination throwing said spear was something he excelled at. Even if not the most physically imposing man, Ashraf's training as honed his body in strength and flexibility, and his trade made him adaptable. Now he is fairly adept with using a spear and javelin, though it must be said he's never had to actually use it in a fight with serious consequence.
He has high heat tolerance, high lung capacity, and a strong work ethic. He is also very good with his hands. Writing, drawing, whittling, and other such hobbies are within his means to master. And of course he is a master at blowing and shaping glass for both practical and artistic uses. He is a tactile learner and can quickly pick up almost anything one needs dexterity for. His mother often said that he had some kind of eidetic memory, only with his hands instead of his eyes.
As of now, he has not awakened to his magical abilities.
K A Z U Ø K A Z U Ø
国定 和生
“Quote”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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Sed non dui commodo, imperdiet purus a, interdum nisl. Suspendisse condimentum nisl vitae orci maximus malesuada. Aenean ac lacus sagittis, ornare nisl ut, volutpat elit. Morbi vel elit sapien. Sed id tristique tortor, nec luctus libero. Praesent quis magna at ipsum porttitor semper. Nulla condimentum hendrerit aliquet.
Proin sed erat dictum, euismod dui eu, blandit mi. Morbi dignissim efficitur urna, in efficitur ex rhoncus vel. Sed ac interdum erat, ac fringilla risus. Curabitur eu hendrerit metus. Nunc placerat ex ac elit pretium, volutpat sollicitudin ligula mattis. Donec vestibulum augue sit amet quam pretium, ac tincidunt eros egestas. Proin iaculis, augue ut pulvinar cursus, lorem neque lacinia ante, sit amet cursus sapien dui sit amet turpis.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
A description indicating a character's awakened magical aptitude so I know if its balanced for play. We will be fighting insane alters, cosmic eldritch horrors, and other strange stuff. Think medium-to-high power for scaling.
The Tower/The Lightning/The House of God Upright: sudden upheaval, broken pride, disaster/ Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin/ Chaos, destruction, trauma, unexpected change, loss, tragedy, revelations, confusion, pain, divorce, abuse, violence, bankruptcy, natural disasters/ Reversed: disaster avoided, delayed disaster, fear of suffering/ Negligence, absence, distribution, carelessness, distraction, apathy, nullity, vanity/ Resisting change, averting disaster, avoiding tragedy, delaying the inevitable, avoiding loss
"The Tower symbolizes the need for things to be built on solid foundations. The doom, destruction, sorrow and pain portrayed in the card is what happens when things fall apart." "When the tower appears it means a change is coming. Illusions are being stripped away. People are going to reveal their true selves. All the stress and angst of keeping things from falling apart is over because it’s all going to fall. When the tower has passed (-> The Star), everything in your life is as it should be"
Motif/abilities should invoke comets
"Comets, in their spiritual context, are seen as heralds of profound change, signaling the end of one phase and the beginning of another in our lives." "In various cultures, comets have been associated with both positive and negative symbolism, often signifying significant change or disruption in the natural world or human affairs. Comets are sometimes viewed as harbingers of doom or disaster, while other interpretations suggest they are messengers of the gods or celestial events foretelling important occurrences."
Unless someone chooses The Star of course, although The Tower and The Star are neighbors and closely related, so perhaps it would be cool to have a "star-like" theme for The Tower, and vice versa ?
Otherwise will just do lightning. The name of the card is literally "lightning" in some decks after all. While fire represents both destruction and creation, a concept I very much like in characters, lightning can be much the same: destruction, transformation, power, energy. Also loosely divinity, illumination. Although a very broad "weather" element sounds fun probably a bit too much. So Lightning/"Comet". Maybe "Storm" could work as an element? ...or just stick with lightning. Lightning element should also include thunder, for sound waves, big booms, general stuff like that. Also to lean more into Tower I like sort of a self destructive theme? Like for example if lightning, the abilities cause some kind of pain or backfiring once used, or super charged state takes a very heavy toll or something.
Surname options? Kunisada, Kaida, maybe go with like Kouseida even if it isn't normally a name?
Alternate color scheme below, green -> purple. Green was because I liked it and can symbolize rebirth after tragedy (but then again that is also leaning more towards The Star). Also could be a minor "envy" thing in regards to the lives of others. Purple is power, divinity, lighting, and the color of hyacinths.
K A Z U Ø K A Z U Ø
国定 和生
“I don't really know what it is I'm looking for... absolution, I guess...”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean dignissim libero quis mollis volutpat. Donec porttitor est vitae arcu dapibus, ut vehicula est mollis. Vivamus felis turpis, pulvinar rhoncus ligula sed, tempus varius nisl.
Sed non dui commodo, imperdiet purus a, interdum nisl. Suspendisse condimentum nisl vitae orci maximus malesuada. Aenean ac lacus sagittis, ornare nisl ut, volutpat elit. Morbi vel elit sapien. Sed id tristique tortor, nec luctus libero. Praesent quis magna at ipsum porttitor semper. Nulla condimentum hendrerit aliquet.
Proin sed erat dictum, euismod dui eu, blandit mi. Morbi dignissim efficitur urna, in efficitur ex rhoncus vel. Sed ac interdum erat, ac fringilla risus. Curabitur eu hendrerit metus. Nunc placerat ex ac elit pretium, volutpat sollicitudin ligula mattis. Donec vestibulum augue sit amet quam pretium, ac tincidunt eros egestas. Proin iaculis, augue ut pulvinar cursus, lorem neque lacinia ante, sit amet cursus sapien dui sit amet turpis.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
A description indicating a character's awakened magical aptitude so I know if its balanced for play. We will be fighting insane alters, cosmic eldritch horrors, and other strange stuff. Think medium-to-high power for scaling.
Overall, given that "fate and destiny" are important themes, Kazuo (probably sticking with that given name) believes that it is his "fate" to suffer (and/or die). The tragic, traumatic event from his past that shocked his hair white triggers, in his mind, a kind of "Final Destination" style vibe that haunts his life. Depending on the student archetype he ends up with, the disastrous coincidences will either affect himself (Social Pariah) or those around him (School Idol). Either, self destructive tendencies will be part of the chara. As far as character progression, he should eventually come to form bonds worth surviving for. I once again go back to the arcana order in which The Tower leads into The Star, so if no one takes The Star I will lean very much into the "rebuilding after disaster" theme of these two cards together. Alone as just The Tower it still works, as The Tower's rebuilding only to fall again is the cycle of Kazuo's life, and with the bonds formed over the course of the story, it would be making a solid enough tower that it won't fall.
"distancing oneself from love, isolation vs compassion" - heart pairing
"Driven by isolation, pessimism and denial, human characters of the Tower Arcana are typically arrogant and introverted, isolated somewhat of their own volition but in part because of treatment from others around them. They are never immediately receptive to the protagonist, requiring some way of proving themselves before talking with them. The harshness of reality gets to them, forcing them to face their feelings. The protagonist's bond with them gives them the courage and understanding to break out of their isolation and establish more relationships with others."
K A Z U Ø K A Z U Ø
国定 和生
“I don't really know what it is I'm looking for... absolution, I guess...”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
Something happened to Kunisada Kazuo. Something that he doesn't talk about. Something bad. Something that maybe he shouldn't have survived. Since then, he's just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it will drop. He can feel it. If he's lucky it will be on his terms when it does. Until then, he's making the most of his life.
Kazuo knew as soon as he'd said it that it had been a mistake. His grandparents looked mortified and his father had gone green in the face. He was scolded for his words, too young then not to think he was being scolded for the thought itself. He didn't say it again, but not being spoken aloud didn't erase the feeling. Nor the growing shame that accompanied it.
It was hard trying to process his own feelings and those of others in the aftermath. Further out from it too. There was an appropriate level of sadness and grief; showing too much or too little was a cause for concern. These levels changed when who it was being shown to was taken into consideration as well. It was quite exhausting to keep track of the web of friends, family, and professionals, and what to say to whom. He messed up more than once.
"Should it have been me?"
When he echoed the sentiment he'd heard others murmur after the next accident, Kazuo's father had pulled him into such a tight embrace that he thought he might end up with another snapped bone. Never say that, the man told him, and Kazuo obliged. He was a little older now, better at deducing what people wanted to hear and telling it to them. What they didn't want to hear and keeping his mouth shut. And he was pretty sure he was really starting to grasp what everyone expected of him.
He was meant to carry this sorrow for the rest of his life. But he didn't want to.
Kazuo doesn't like living in Hiroshima. He didn't like the last place they lived in either. He much preferred the quieter Tottori, the modest house and happy family he had in that town, but... well. He knew they could never go back there. Even if his dad hadn't said as much when they first moved, when Kazuo's dark hair had already almost all blanched into white, he knew.
That said, Hashiguchi High isn't all bad. He'd ended up with a lot of... friends. Or people that seemed to like him, at any rate. As a transfer student, especially a good looking one, others had been quick to flock to him. He was smart and athletic, and had an endearingly nurturing side as evidenced by his participation in the school's gardening club that contrasted the more cool, aloof side of him that people normally saw. There was an almost mysterious air about him that drew the interest of girls, and yet an apparent fearlessness that earned the respect of boys when he took on any and every class dare. He's popular with everyone, fairly easy to talk to despite the naturally formed distance between himself and his peers.
But it's only a matter of time, Kazuo knows, before something else happens. Before he messes up again. When he says something he shouldn't, shows something he shouldn't, remembers something he's supposed to pretend he doesn't. When keeping track of who to be and when becomes less important than just enjoying himself, and guilt wells up, and Self-Destructive Kazuo shows up when it should have been Student Kazuo or Friend Kazuo or Caring Son Kazuo.
It was a matter of time, but it wasn't now. Right now he's subbing in on Hashiguchi's soccer team and gently letting a girl who'd asked him out down. Right now he's letting himself be treated to a meal and then sneaking into a movie. Right now he's leaping into rivers and growing hyacinths in the school's garden. Right now, he's okay. And if his hands still trembled at every peal of thunder, if his heart trembled at the thought of staring into the flame in his memory, if he planted his feet and remained stuck between moving on and never rebuilding... well. That was no one's business but his own.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
Something happened to Kunisada Kazuo. Something that he doesn't talk about. Something bad. Something that maybe he shouldn't have survived. Since then, he's just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it will drop. He can feel it. If he's lucky it will be on his terms when it does. Until then, making the most of his life.
Or, perhaps, testing the limits of his borrowed time.
Kazuo knew as soon as he'd said it that it had been a mistake. His grandparents looked mortified and his father had gone green in the face. He was scolded for his words, too young then not to think he was being scolded for the thought itself. He didn't say it again, but not being spoken aloud didn't erase the feeling. Nor the growing shame that accompanied it.
It was hard trying to process his own feelings and those of others in the aftermath. Further out from it too. There was an appropriate level of sadness and grief; showing too much or too little was a cause for concern. These levels changed when who it was being shown to was taken into consideration as well. It was quite exhausting to keep track of the web of friends, family, and professionals, and what to say to whom. He messed up more than once.
"Should it have been me?"
When he echoed the sentiment he'd heard others murmur after the next accident, Kazuo's father had pulled him into such a tight embrace that he thought he might end up with another snapped bone. Never say that, the man told him, and Kazuo obliged. He was a little older now, better at deducing what people wanted to hear and telling it to them. What they didn't want to hear and keeping his mouth shut. And he was pretty sure he was really starting to grasp what everyone expected of him.
He was meant to carry this sorrow for the rest of his life. But he didn't want to.
Kazuo doesn't like living in Hiroshima. He didn't like the last place they lived in either. He much preferred the quieter Tottori, the modest house and happy family he had in that town, but... well. He knew they could never go back there. Even if his dad hadn't said as much when they first moved, when Kazuo's dark hair had already almost all blanched into white, he knew.
That said, Hashiguchi High isn't all bad. He'd ended up with a lot of... friends. Or people that seemed to like him, at any rate. As a transfer student, especially a good looking one, others had been quick to flock to him. He was smart and athletic, and had an endearingly nurturing side as evidenced by his participation in the school's gardening club that contrasted the more cool, aloof side of him that people normally saw. There was an almost mysterious air about him that drew the interest of girls, and yet an apparent fearlessness that earned the respect of boys when he took on any and every class dare. He's popular with everyone, fairly easy to talk to despite the naturally formed distance between himself and his peers.
But it's only a matter of time, Kazuo knows, before something else happens. Before he messes up again. When he says something he shouldn't, shows something he shouldn't, remembers something he's supposed to pretend he doesn't. When keeping track of who to be and when becomes less important than just enjoying himself, and guilt wells up, and Self-Destructive Kazuo shows up when it should have been Student Kazuo or Friend Kazuo or Caring Son Kazuo.
It was a matter of time, but it wasn't now. Right now he's subbing in on Hashiguchi's soccer team and gently letting a girl who'd asked him out down. Right now he's letting himself be treated to a meal and then sneaking into a movie. Right now he's leaping into rivers and growing hyacinths in the school's garden. Right now, he's okay. And if his hands still trembled at every peal of thunder, if his heart trembled at the thought of staring into the flame in his memory, if he planted his feet and remained stuck between moving on and never rebuilding... well. That was no one's business but his own.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
Something happened to Kunisada Kazuo. Something that he doesn't talk about. Something bad. Something that maybe he shouldn't have survived. Since then, he's just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it will drop. He can feel it. If he's lucky it will be on his terms when it does. Until then, he's making the most of his life.
Or, perhaps, testing the limits of his borrowed time.
Kazuo knew as soon as he'd said it that it had been a mistake. His grandparents looked mortified and his father had gone green in the face. He was scolded for his words, too young then not to think he was being scolded for the thought itself. He didn't say it again, but keeping it to himself did not erase the feeling, nor the learned shame that accompanied it.
It was hard trying to process his own feelings and those of others in the aftermath. There was an appropriate level of sadness and grief; showing too much or too little was a cause for concern, and the level changed when who it was being shown to was taken into consideration. There were suddenly a lot more people in his life too, many more than what he'd lost. It was exhausting, keeping track of the tangle of friends, neighbors, family, and professionals - learning what to say to whom and when to say it. It was suffocating, feeling eyes on him all the time, trying to gauge how okay he was or looking at him with a new air of wariness when his dark hair began to pale. He knew he messed up more than once, but he was getting older, better at reading people, at deducing what they wanted to hear and telling it to them. That was why he was pretty sure he wasn't imagining what everyone, from those that whispered he was unlucky to even his father, expected of him.
He didn't want to be made to carry sorrow around for the rest of his life, but he could pretend. He was getting pretty good at it—and it would only get easier.
Kazuo didn't like living in Hiroshima. He much preferred the quieter Tottori, the modest house and happy family he had in that town, but... well. He knew they could never go back there. Even if his dad hadn't said as much when they first moved, he knew. The man had said a change would be good for him, but honestly Kazuo thought it was more for his dad's own sake than anything else. Regardless, he was no longer surrounded by so many people that looked at him with expectation or pity. Hashiguchi High wasn't all bad, there were new people and new patterns to learn, but he was more equipped to deal with it.
Now, instead of undoing a tangled mess of threads, he maintained a curated web of relationships in his new setting. As a transfer student in his first year, especially a good looking one, his peers had been quick to flock to him. On top of that he was smart and athletic, with an endearingly nurturing side as evidenced by his participation in the school's gardening club. Kazuo had learned how to make himself superficially easy to talk to a long time ago and yet he was not above joining in on some mean-spirited teasing, both of which helped cement his status in the school's hierarchy by his second year. Learning how to keep in someone's good graces meant he could just as easily get under their skin, and if he had to tear others down to build himself up, he would. There were a lot of benefits to keeping himself well liked, after all, and he'd ended up with a lot of people that seemed to like him.
More than anything though it was his apparent fearlessness that earned the respect of his classmates. In social matters and physical challenges both, Kazuo never backed down. He took on any and every class dare and performed increasingly risky stunts. He did it for himself, not them; looking cool in front of his peers was really just a fortunate side-effect. Kazuo liked when pulling breath was a little achy, needed to hear his own pulse pound in his ears, all so that he could prove something unspoken to himself.
He knew it was only a matter of time before something happened again. Before some part of him he was supposed to pretend wasn't there showed through, or he lost track of who to be and when. It was a matter of time, but it wasn't now. Right now he's subbing in one of Hashiguchi's sports teams and gently letting a girl who'd asked him out down. Right now he's leaping into rivers and growing hyacinths in the school's garden. Right now he's pushing down guilt and enjoying his life as Hashiguchi's fearless star.
...and if his hands still trembled at every peal of thunder, if his heart trembled at the thought of staring into the flame in his memory, remaining stuck between never rebuilding and moving on... well. That was no one's business but his own.
C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N
Appearance (Before Awakening): A fair-skinned, lightly freckled young man with an athletic body type built through sports like wrestling and soccer, as well as stolen gym time. He stood about 5'10 (but told people he was 6'), with deep brown eyes and a mop of red hair. His style mostly consisted of shorts, hoodies and athletic wear, though with a surprisingly stylish bent when he can afford it.
Appearance (After Awakening): (In full) His hair and skin grew slightly paler, duller (save for a bold streak of new color), while his eyes turned a bright, ethereal icy blue. When he goes full throttle it's almost like halos of light form around these eyes, sun through ice.
His body filled out more, he became a little broader, and patterns took shape on his skin. These curling, cold to the touch, angular feathered designs take up the entirety of his back, tapering off as they reach down his hips, his biceps where they crest over his shoulders, and his hair line as they crawl up and around the nape of his neck. At first glance they might appear to be bright white tattoos, but with a closer look it easily becomes apparent that it's a layer of frost embedded in his skin that at times grows or contracts a little but never disappears.
He also grew a little taller, though to his dismay still hasn't broken 6'. Still lies about it. His sense of style hasn't changed much, though he now always dresses more warmly. Like gloves and thermals throughout the year warmly.
Awakening Details
Vision: "Can you save even these people?"
She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and would ever see. She stepped towards the shallows framed by a bright sun and rippling golden grass, ice peaked cliffs and warm fertile volcanic soil. She raised her left hand from the water which shimmered with silvery light. She raised her right hand which rippled with reddish heat. She held out the left, an invitation and a challenge. She held out the right, and her eyes suddenly flickered to the space at Cade's side. He looked too, eyes widening in shock.
"Oh my, this is unusual..."
Rank: 1st...?
Summoned Weapon
Svalinn - Nordic Myth
Lore & Power
Origin Story: The shivering shield of the goddess Sól which hangs in the sky before the sun in Norse mythos. It protects the earth as a whole, allowing humanity to withstand the sun's rays. If it should ever fall, as told by Odin, the entire planet would burn.
Relative Strength: ★★★★★★★✩✩✩ A myth with old, deep roots, concerning the protection of all creation... but in reality it has left the minds of most people and has been overshadowed by more contemporary legends.
Manifestation: A massive circular iron shield, just over 4' in diameter. It is absolutely as heavy as it looks, though for Cade it might as well be just a big frisbee... since it floats, moving in tune to his will. When manifested but at rest, it hovers at his back. It is slightly concave, and on its face are concentric circles that radiate out from the center where a bubbly depiction of a sun is etched. Within each ring various runes are deeply carved, growing more numerous and elaborate as they reach the final ring on the shield's edge. When Svalinn's chilling magic is used the runes glow by stages according to its output, though even when not actively in use it is so cold to the touch that it can affect the air around it. It also affects Cade himself: he can wield the weapon perfectly fine alone, but if his sister isn't around to thermoregulate him then his frost layer builds up, slowing him down and otherwise negatively affecting his body.
Attributes
Might: ★★★✩✩ Already fairly strong as an athlete and vigilante, his Awakening just kicked it up a notch. His weapon is no sword of destruction, but getting domed with a two ton slab of iron still really hurts.
Agility: ★★✩✩✩ Not having to worry about lugging said two tons around means his speed doesn't suffer, and the shield is decently swift as it moves. Not the speediest, but good reflexes.
Endurance: ★★★✩✩ It's not like Cade has tested it (lies, he totally has), but Svalinn is practically indestructible. Cade himself is not, though Awakening has made him a lot tougher in general.
Presence: ★★✩✩✩ He has a strong will, but that's about all he has. It's through his willpower that he forces out his confidence and heroism. He's still working on everything else.
Instinct: ★★✩✩✩ A honed intuition since childhood with some experience in getting into fist fights, his instinct is higher than a newly Awakened but far still from that of a trained combatant. He'll get there, though.
Resonance: ★★★✩✩ Cade was meant to be a 2nd Rank, with two weapons that would balance each other out and a strong potential for growth. He still has that potential even with only Svalinn, and his resonance level means his side effects are not as pronounced as a certain someone else's.
Guild Information
Heroic Alias: 'Svalinn' Guild Assessment Result: -- Affiliation: If there is one good thing that the mega-corps have done for the world, it is the creation of the guilds. Though its only been a year, Cade has seen their positive impact for himself. Add the fact that they're the only real way make use of his power without risk of being slapped with a criminal charge or lawsuit and it means that Cade is essentially all-in on guild work, even if their sponsors are suspect to say the least. The Order of the Lake claims to be different, but though Cade is relatively loyal to it he isn't dumb enough to trust said claim at face value.
Background
Personality: Cade is competitive, critical, and confrontational. He has none of the charm one might expect from a traditional hero, but god damn if he doesn't pretend that he does. He attempts to come off as someone with a cooler head than he has, but needless to say he does a poor job of it. He likens himself to a leader but is the type to unintentionally sabotage others in the field by always going to grab the spotlight. He thinks he is better than everyone else. Scratch that - he is better. He has to be, because if he isn't then what's the point?
For a guy who's awakened weapon is a giant shield meant to protect people, it's sort of funny that there's probably a big does not play well with others notice stamped across his guild file. Hopefully they were nice and wrote teamwork needs improvement instead. Since he lacks true charisma his cocky attitude often rubs people the wrong way, especially if they're able to tell that his self-confidence is rather forced. His cheeky grin just a little too tight. It does not come easily to him, but then again, nothing ever did.
To say that Cade is emotionally closed off would be correct. He is not as trusting as his sister, and not as friendly either (he tries, sometimes). He grew up with a lot of hidden frustrations that he had no outlet for, artistic or otherwise, and he still harbors some of them. There is one person who he can never seem to hide even the smallest thing from, but he tries not to rely on her too much. He doesn't want -doesn't need- to rely on anyone. Because they should be relying on him.
Despite all of the evidence pointing towards a conclusion that Cade is abrasive at best and an asshole at worst, he is trustworthy and responsible enough that even strangers can, in fact, rely on him. To be useful, needed, and important to people are desires he holds in his heart even if at times he doesn't directly acknowledge them. He hates to see people hurting and tends to shoulder any and every burden himself. It may prove difficult, but over time it might be possible for his teammates to see the softer, caring, more playful side to him that he normally only shows to people he loves.
On Awakening: It's been a couple months since Cade awakened. He actually finds it pretty sweet. Now his path is decided for him, or... more like a role he was destined for has finally appeared. Even though the other half of his Awakening was interrupted, and now he's always just a little cold at minimum even when he isn't using Svalinn, and his body gets tense, stiff, and wracked with shivers in the aftermath when he does if he wasn't close enough to CC, and he's been more prone to getting sick...
It's worth it.
And is he proud of CC for being able to utilize that sword and choosing to help others with it, like he's doing with his shield? Of course he is! She's amazing (don't tell her he said that). But is he also feeling conflicted because Lævateinn was meant to be his? ...yes, of course he is. He is equal parts guilty and jealous, his frustration over both the good and the bad sitting dense in the pit of his stomach.
History: The Sinclair family was definitely not expecting twins. With their budget they would have struggled to support a third mouth let alone a fourth, but it wasn't exactly something that they could control. Even while living in a metropolis waylaid by corporate price gouging, corporate wage theft, and of course corporate controlled rented flats they chose to keep them. Somehow they'd scrape by.
And they did, for a while. It took years following Cade and Cecilia's birth for things to really go south. The latest round of layoffs had come for their father's job, and suddenly living on one parent's measly paycheck wasn't going to cut it. Yet the job market was brutal, especially for anyone with a shred of pride still left in them. Repeated failure, a sense of emasculation, and escalating arguments between husband and wife led to a building resentment that finally saw their father throw up his hands and walk out. To this day he hasn't come back. Their mother scrambled to make ends meet, taking extra shifts and part-time jobs, but there were too many months in missed rent and no extended family to fall back on. Eventually the kind, hard-working woman had to pack her kids up and leave. They lived in and out of shelters until their mother could secure a tiny, cheap apartment for them.
For Cade, still only a child then, he had to step up. He was now the man of the family. His dad was weak, a quitter. Not like mom, not like CC, and definitely not like him. He had to protect them all from pushy loan sharks preying on the poor, from thieves and creeps that skulked about the city day and night. When he got old enough he took odd jobs too, anything to help out even just a little. He liked to think his efforts really helped his mom so that she could rest easier knowing that every time she had to leave the twins alone that they'd be alright so long as Cade had anything to say about. They were on their own together more often than not after all, when they went to and from their crappy public school and when they waited for mom's shifts to end at home. As they grew up things got easier, all three of the Sinclairs working their asses off to get to a better place. By the time Cade and CC were in their final years of high school it seemed to have paid off; with Cade actually able to work part-time himself their mom didn't have to handle everything alone, and CC had even landed a scholarship for college.
Things were changing for the better, but there was a weird new twisted feeling in Cade's gut. He and CC had been extremely close growing up; they'd had to share everything out of necessity, and really only had each other to rely on, on top of being twins. And now she was going to head off to college for her art, a passion she shared with their mother that the woman had needed to give up. That similarity Cade didn't have had already driven a little bit of a wedge between his mom and himself, hastening her son's independence, but if it was going to mean growing apart from CC too... then what was he supposed to do? What did he even want out of life? He'd done great in his school sports teams (the ones that hadn't kicked him out for his attitude), but wasn't scouted. He'd made sure to keep his grades up near the top of his class, but he wasn't even close to valedictorian. There were many things he was good at but none he was best in, though not for lack of trying. He didn't have something that he wanted to truly chase.
So he applied for a grant, and after being surprised that it was given it to him, simply followed CC to further education. When he told her it was because he was worried about her going off on her own, it wasn't totally a lie. He took only the bare minimum amount of classes, spending more time working and putting money into the siblings' shitty shared room on city campus. Discontent but not quite able to place the feeling, Cade used what free time he had on certain extracurriculars. The kind that involved going out at night with bandanas wrapped around faces and baseball bats with words like justice written on them.
It was easy for Cade to fall into the vigilantism movement. He was an effected and frustrated youth. He had seen the city's bad side over and over, but he'd also met the few on the good side, and it was clear to him which one he'd rather be on. It started with coming upon a mugging while walking home after a night class. He wasn't a child anymore, he could provide tangible help - so he did. He returned to the apartment with a bruised cheek and split lip, but had ended up with a grateful new friend. The guy asked Cade to join a small posse to help make sure his girlfriend's boss never harassed her again, which they did by putting the man into a hospital. And from there recruited to larger movements, participating in more organized action under cover night. And, sometimes, even just solo rocking a scarf and goggles as he acted as free campus security.
It was something. It provided a decent physical way to de-stress, a little feeling that he was doing some good. He couldn't exactly get away with making up excuses for the wounds he returned home with, especially after the whole 'Awakening' thing started and it turned out a gaggle of well-meaning citizens was no match for one dude with a glowing sword. They'd barely escaped with their lives. These new ridiculous 'villains' had been showing up more an more, and it pissed Cade off that they were using their weird powers for petty things.
It sure would be nice to get one of those glowing swords himself though.
That night had been particularly rough. Cade made CC promise not to tell their mom, and in turn promised her that he'd be fine. This was all fine. It was something. He was doing something. Eventually, even if only a little, he would help make the city a safer, better place. For everyone, for CC - as long as he could make sure she'd always be there, could keep her safe--
"Can you save even these people?"
Motivation: It is, a little bit, what he's always wanted to do. Besides, why would he hurt people when he could help them instead? ...besides the villains he'll be fighting of course. Perpetuating the cycle of violence is based when its against unrepentant evildoers.
Optional: Side Roles: Journalist sounds fun, so if needed I can certainly play a journalist every now and then! Also wouldn't mind playing a villain or two, minor, recurring or otherwise.
Theme Song / Quote: TBD
As a character, Fen is intended to balance the cast with a less intense personality as well as bring with him metaphorical mirrors to hold up to the rest of characters (at least a little bit). And of course his own goals and challenges.
As the story opens Fen is caught between his past and his present predicament. Now that he is cut free from the family he served, willingly or not, he finds with little other options he is driven to learn the truth about his own family and the Ecc. At the same time he is nervous about that truth and does want to return to the familiarity of his old life, however wretched it was, but knows it is next to impossible.
His character arc is intended to see him grow stronger physically, mentally, and magically, to stand up for himself and others, and to learn what it means to fight for justice and be part of a family. He has a strong, proud foundation that has been chipped away at and needs to be restored over the course of the story so his true nature can bloom.
As far as action goes, Fen is preferable as a "pure caster" wielding earth, stones, plants, etc. His control will be initially poor (more power over precision) but would stabilize as he learns to use his magic. He will have been taught fencing but at most will have a dagger on his person as a last resort. At the moment he's written without the use of a foci, but can easily take a foci being a ring, bracelet, etc. - not a weapon.
“... ...”
N A M E
Feni phra Hellebore Favillae Fen
A G E
16-18?
O R I G I N
TBD
V I S A G E
Smaller and slighter than his age would suggest, though with a sturdier core too than his frame would imply. A face fairer than most boys, topped with a mess of ruddy light brown hair. What tops the fair skin are scars old and new, small and large. Most are concentrated on his back and his arms, some mark his hands and his thighs. Beneath long lashes are a pair of pale green eyes like early spring flowers, like seafoam. But there is a spark in them, an ember waiting to catch despite numerous attempts to smother it.
He feels nothing about any of it. It is simply how he is. He also feels nothing about the clothes that he wears, quite happy to don anything given to him. If he had to choose for himself... the soft fabric and detailed patterns of high class garments were very nice. Though he might prefer a warmer cloak to accompany them. On his right ear is a bronze band inlaid with small crystals of red and white, wrapped tight around the shell in a conch piercing. It has no clasp.
P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S
Strong willpower, strong survival instinct, inquisitive mind tempered into being an extremely quick learner. Patient, soft spoken and deferential, though still with a sense of pride. Against better judgement, is also a little hopeful. Pious until recent events, still mostly is but questioning. [ Pending magic system info -> ] his emotions sort of blunted over the years, and while he is learning and feeling more new things its an adjustment to say the least, watching the reaction of nature around him is a better indicator of his mood than what he says or does.
L I F E E X P E R I E N C E S
He was grateful to live in the manor, he really was. He'd seen the beggars in the streets and the sick in the churches. In the manor he was looked after, he got to wear fine clothes that the young master had grown out of and he got to eat fine food when the young master wasn't being lazy with his studies. And the studies! They taught him to read and write, about history and fencing and music. He was allowed a fine education learning alongside the young master, never to exceed him, always to suffer discipline and degradation for both of their failures.
This was his lot in life, to be a friend, servant, or dog at the young master's whim. It could be worse. It could be much worse. He was indeed grateful to live in the manor.
On the weekends when there were no lessons and he did not live in the manor, he lived in the church at the end of the street where he avoided the sick and the beggars, and the other children and their mothers that pawed at his fine clothes and told him how lucky he was to have been chosen, how haughty he was to flaunt Lord Favilla's studded leash among the strays. And he was. Lucky, haughty. It could have been worse. He could have been them. He was not.
To avoid the other children and their parents he prayed in the chapel or explored the city. He was very familiar with Iquenos' landscape if not her people. He avoided too the eyes of noblemen and commoners alike that looked upon him with pity or with scorn. Bowed his head at passing clergy or rival lords. Was scolded for it while he was wearing Favilla's colors. The first time in recent memory someone looked upon him without scorn, without pity, without sadistic glee or cruel envy had shaken him to the core.
(I WILL BE WRITING A SCENE HERE) [ the stranger is part of a rebel cell, an acquaintance of Fen's late family currently on the run. He recognizes Fen and quickly tries to connect with him and tells him that his parents were "heroes" and gives him an (incriminating) encoded note about where to connect with him in the future. ]
As the sound of the knights' armor approached the man hastened to press something into his hands and then fled. The inquisitors rounded the corner not long after to find him trembling and confused. They asked if he'd seen the man. They asked which way the man had gone. And he... he lied. He lied.
When he was summoned again to the manor the next day for the start of a new week he was still sick with the thought. The start of a new week was always when the young master was most at odds with the tutors, but the feel of the rod was almost a welcome distraction. He did not understand his own action. He was not allowed to speak lies. He tasted the phantom ashes of Lady Favilla's favored punishment the entire day. After lessons he crawled to the courtyard garden where he would often watch the flowers rapidly sprout and bloom. Where he had tried to tell them there was beautiful magic and his cheek had burned thrice for it in those early days. Where he felt most at ease in the manor and where he could slow the desperate racing of his thoughts.
Why had he lied to the inquisitors? Why had he believed what that man had said? Why had they let him go?
They had not let him go. Three days after the start of the new week a squad of inquisitors stalked through the halls of the manor and rounded up the staff and the property and the family and even the Lord Favilla. Investigating the man he'd seen, a possible accomplice traced back to the manor. Maleficarum they claimed. Treason and conspiracy they spoke of. Who were the rogue magi they demanded. The Favilla practiced he knew, though the young master's magic lessons were the only ones he was not to be present for. He had not thought them unloyal to the Imperium. And so it was him. Him that Lady Favilla shrieked and pointed at, him that the Lord threw at the knights' feet, him that was shackled and dragged off for questioning.
Two weeks after living in the castra stripped of the fine clothes and fine food the inquisitors began to grow tired of the truth, that he did not know anything about magic or maleficarum. They had their clues though, their lead, their proof; the note that he had crumpled and smoothed out and crumpled again and again since receiving it. They would not let him go. Was he meant to live in the castra until he told them something he could not? Until they figured it out themselves? And after that? He had always thought the Imperium's inquisitors a force of good but he had heard the stories, ruthless and lethal stories. And he did not want to live in the castra and await his fate. He wanted to live in the manor. The church at the end of the street would be fine. If he dared to hope, then another place. Any place. He did not want to remain there, he did not want to become part of the stories. He had to leave. To escape. And so he... He...!
[ escapes imprisonment accidentally killing two inquisitors in the process. INTENT here is a burst of magic that surprises everyone even Fen, the first time he actively if subconsciously uses it. Maybe have to change if foci are mandatory. Flees and is picked up by underground rebel group? Maybe scrap that ]
He fled under cover of smoke and flame,
One month after ... [ Present day. Has been very poorly living on the lam. Despite the homicides making him a higher value wanted person in his home city-state, in the overall imperium he is low on the wanted list, which is why he would have fled for other areas/ends up with the crew on the train/ship. He still wants answers but is more concerned with survival first.
Maybe allude to how Favilla fam changed during that time. Or not idk, future obstacle on the return to Iquenos. Fen fights with the protagonists to find out the truth of his lost past and hopefully gain a sense of belonging/grow into the stalwart sort that Terra aspected souls normally are. ]
E L E M E N T A L A F F I N I T Y
Terra
A T T R I B U T E S
Prodigium Magum --
Dagger, specifically parrying dagger. Technically for use alongside of a rapier, but alas.
The skills of a trained servant - various things he learned either taught to the church children or instructed in specifically for the privilege of staying in The Manor. Though not to the level of a chef or a nurse, Fen can cook a little and knows how to apply first aid. He knows what poison tastes like for meal tests. He can patch clothes and clean. He can, just a little bit, play music.
"At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Temporibus autem quibusdam et aut officiis debitis aut rerum necessitatibus saepe eveniet ut et voluptates repudiandae sint et molestiae non recusandae. Itaque earum rerum hic tenetur a sapiente delectus, ut aut reiciendis voluptatibus maiores alias consequatur aut perferendis doloribus asperiores repellat."
"At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Temporibus autem quibusdam et aut officiis debitis aut rerum necessitatibus saepe eveniet ut et voluptates repudiandae sint et molestiae non recusandae. Itaque earum rerum hic tenetur a sapiente delectus, ut aut reiciendis voluptatibus maiores alias consequatur aut perferendis doloribus asperiores repellat."
Traits & Magic Prodigium Magum --
Dagger, specifically parrying dagger. Technically for use alongside of a rapier, but alas.
The skills of a trained servant - various things he learned either taught to the church children or instructed in specifically for the privilege of staying in The Manor. Though not to the level of a chef or a nurse, Fen can cook a little and knows how to apply first aid. He knows what poison tastes like for meal tests. He can patch clothes and clean. He can, just a little bit, play music. He can also take a surprising amount of physical and mental stress before breaking down.
S O L S O L
“If I can't find my knight in shining armor, then I'll just have to play one myself!”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
Playstyle & Attitude Protective and supportive. Beautiful spells that focus on defense or drawing enemy aggression, keeping the danger away from allies. Enthusiastic team player. A model prince charming overlaid on a tomboy who doesn't watch her mouth. Will fight you to defend a lady's honor, or just because you are getting on her nerves.
When Amelia's brother died, it hit her hard. Really, really hard. In between a paranoid, workaholic mother and an unreliable, ex-felon father, Austin was the single stable stone to which she could cling to. When they uprooted their lives every year or two and moved, he was there. When their parents fought until their dad finally walked out, he was there. When Amelia had to stay late for soccer practice, Oz would pick her up on his bicycle afterward, and when she got into a fight with a friend and cried about it at home he would pat her head and tell her the stupidest joke she ever heard. Austin and Amelia were best friends, so when he was gone, it left a huge hole in her heart.
Amelia's life did not revolve around Austin, but with the physical absence of her father and emotional absence of her mother, the heavy loss of her brother colored that life. She sought out male companionship, starting with Austin's friends. They understood what she was feeling, and still called her by the nickname he had given her, "Ames." When the Millers, down to two now, inevitably moved away she easily fell in with new groups of guys. Amelia was simple, sporty, and a little rough around the edges; her decently cute face and girl next door vibe didn't hurt either. However when she approached adulthood, her time spent chilling on the couch playing games with the boys turned to joining the dating pool.
She had always been a romantic at heart, and she had a desire she was sure a lot of other girls had: to fall for a kind man who would whisk her away from her dead end life. Especially now that she felt so alone. She didn't have the smarts, looks, or talent to escape it on her own. Unfortunately no matter how many men she dated, from sleazeballs to nice guys, it didn't work out for her. Her girl friends said she was too picky, her exes told her no one would treat a tomboy with no social filter like a princess. But as far as she was concerned, if they couldn't even beat a two dimensional love interest from a video game then what did they know?
She kept trying. Hitch-hiked out of the latest shitty little town she'd ended up in right out of high school, got a shitty job in the city and shared a shitty apartment with a friend. In between the cycle of losing work, finding it again and speed dating, she filled her life with games. Until she could find her white knight, someone who would stand up for her, ease her troubles, stroke her hair, treat her kindly.... until then, there would always be a simulacrum of him online.
S O L L U N E: T H E S T A R R Y K N I G H T S O L L U N E: T H E S T A R R Y K N I G H T
Short, fluffy maroon hair, a handsome face, a voice that leans alto, the attire of a knightly prince and a height that's a little tall for a woman, but about average for a man. Sol puts forth the image of a radiant pretty boy prince charming, so it can come as a surprise that Sol is, in fact, a girl.
For a while now the persona of "Sol" was her go-to in all kinds of RPGs. She got some kind of catharsis in embodying the perfect guy that seemed so unattainable in real life. Maybe it was a little pathetic, but being Sol was the next best thing. Pariah Online was no different - this was her ideal. Of course the knight in shining armor had to do more than just look the part. She worked hard and became strong, dedicated herself to the protection of others, and treated every girl, whether they were a Wayfarer or a Denizen, as a princess...
...for the most part. Because being Sol was not so much playing a character as it was projecting her own wants into the world. The same simple, boisterous girl that she was 'out there' was still 'in here.' She spoke her mind, called people out, and got into arguments. Even other girls weren’t spared if they annoyed her too much. Accolades from former party members for her performance in battle content and the fans she has gained due to her knightly actions outside of it keep her good reputation well preserved, though for some it's always funny to see Sol cuss a guy out and then turn around and speak sweetly to a girl like it didn't happen.
Sol isn't perfect, but she damn well tries to be. And she quite enjoyed the attention she got as her popularity climbed higher and higher. It wasn't unusual that some days she got more party invites than she could keep up with. Her heart fluttered after each stressful, but successful dungeon clear, or when she captured the attention of a pretty girl. Team play was her forte, and every raid pulled off, every community event that succeeded, and every grateful player that spoke with her made her fall deeper and deeper in love with the game.
Star Shimmer Shield The most basic part of Sol's kit, and the first spell she ever mastered. A defensive ability that manifests as a solid wall of glittering light that radiates out from a single bright point. Just as light moves swiftly, its casting time is ridiculously fast. The shield's size and strength increases proportional to the energy used to cast it, and interconnected constellations of lights can form a massive AOE shield around entire teams. As arguably Sol's most important skill, she is able to "debt cast" it if her mana is too low by burning off her maximum mana amount.
Dark Quasar A conjured point of light that swiftly implodes and creates a black hole effect which draws targets toward its center. The swirling dark mass has a pull powerful enough to suck in several enemies at once, so long as they aren't too large. Unlike a real black hole the spell itself has no other effect besides the pull. It is very effective at grouping troublesome enemies together for herself or someone else to take care of. Although it can be cast at range, the spell is called "quasar" because Sol usually casts it on top of herself to pull enemies towards her, functioning as the luminescence at the center.
Burst of Starlight An empowering effect that can be cast on herself or others. It is a straightforward increase to the target's stats; not just their defense but their attack, speed, and other capabilities. Like Star Shimmer Shield, the effect increases proportional to the energy used to cast it. Sol mainly uses it on herself when she is not acting as main tank, or on a DPS partner when she is. The indication of her Starlit buff can vary from person to person, but for Sol her hair glows golden and grows longer depending on the strength of the buff.
Umbral Obsession A single target debuff normally reserved for dungeon bosses or other highly dangerous foes. When the spell takes effect, it looks as though a shadowy shroud has fallen over the eyes of the target it was cast on. From the target's point of view, a very specific kind of tunnel vision is enforced. Looking anywhere other than at Sol makes their eyesight dark and fuzzy - thereby obscuring her allies and making it harder to focus on or hit them, while Sol herself remains perfectly clear in order to hold the enemy's attention.
Shooting Comets A somewhat weak ranged attack, though it can be cast manifold, rapidly, or both. Bright little stars form in the air around Sol, then shoot toward a target as a projectile of light. The projectile itself is fast, but the spell has an obvious tell in that fact that the stars must form first before firing. For the most part Sol uses it to ping distant enemies or quickly deal with very low level ones hen she's in the area doing something else.
Purest Shadow Sol raises her hand and summons a ring of darkness, which can then be placed on the ground to create a circular field of flickering shadows. It has a medium duration, but while active any allies that stand in the field are dispelled of their debuffs, Sol included. It does not happen instantly, as the darkness "consumes" each debuff one by one, but it works very well when fighting in a small area.
Simple but Stylish Some people seek out rare magic spells, exotic weaponry, or complex artifacts. Others practice like crazy to perfect long, intricate combos or enchantments. And then there's Sol, who ditched the physical shield that came with her starter weapon because it was easier that way. Sol is good with a sword, and her swordplay is a wonderful blend of elegant and aggressive. She makes attacking and defending with it seem almost effortless. The simple, polished movements easily show off her skill, and when paired with her pretty spellwork she cuts quite the dashing figure in combat.
Eye for Detail Sol is always the one that notices the treasure chest obscured in the corner, the faint glow of that forage-able item, the haircut or the little accessory her teammate recently got, the anxious fan or newbie assassin hiding behind the wall, the shooting star at night out of the corner of her eye. And she looks out for people just as much. Spending all that time looking for "The One" means she hardly misses a thing.
Pillar of the Community For Sol, being a strong player and a kind stranger wasn't enough. A real prince charming was truly helpful. Sol has been a large presence throughout Toraenis at community events, Wayfarer run shop openings, player projects such as charities, fashion shows, and much more. It wasn't an exaggeration to say her name was well known throughout her starter city-state, and word of mouth had carried it beyond. She's collected many titles and nicknames due to this; The Stellar Idol, Toraenis' Wayfarer Prince, Lord Sollune, and of course her personal favorite, The Starry Knight.
Your North Star Everyone that stands under Sol's starlight is under her protection, in more ways than one. She embodies her unwavering ideal, inspiring others with it. She takes charge in parties and lends her guidance to others. She emulates the best person she knew so that people feel that they could rely on her. And she is more than happy to give her opinion, asked for or otherwise.
Avatar names? Ames Hoshi Soluna Sollune Umbrasol Stellasol just Sol or Soul lol more game sounding? Stellar Sol?
Micki notes: stick with female but looks like a fuckboi bishounen don't lean into solo play, commit you coward we go full clash with Rael Player housing is real confirmed lol
Domino Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus.
He is colloquially referred to as Nino
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
E X T R A I N F O E X T R A I N F O
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________________________
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D O M I N O D O M I N O
“ You know like, nyaa. ”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
Domino Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus.
He is colloquially referred to as Nino
Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Quis vel eros donec ac odio tempor orci dapibus. Mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae. Tincidunt dui ut ornare lectus sit amet. Pretium aenean pharetra magna ac. Arcu non sodales neque sodales. Tortor at auctor urna nunc id cursus. Ut eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna fermentum. Vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam. Diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer.
C r u s A c o s t a
“What can I say? I'm charming and irresponsib- I mean irresistible.”
Name Crus Acosta
Age Eighteen
Gender Male
Home Sea South Sea
Aether Sign Sun (Wind)
Aether Abilities Crus' Aether abilities are extremely minor. The most he can do at the moment is create a breeze. At it's strongest Crus can use it to give himself a tailwind and move faster while using less stamina, or to give himself a push through the water while swimming. Most of the time he uses it instead to cool himself down, cheat at tops, or passive aggressively knock things over. His control is poor when his emotions are high.
Personality --- SUBJECT TO CHANGE On the surface, Crus is a bit of a people pleaser. A young man with a warm personality. He is friendly and playful, and never shy around strangers. He acts much the same whether around old friends or new acquaintances, and he doesn't discriminate. He enjoys chatting, and to that end he can be a bit pushy. He likes prying, and especially likes getting his way. Crus isn't one to give in easily, and that extends to much more than just personal relationships. He has a stubborn streak a mile wide that helps him to chase his wants and goals even when the going gets tough, but he's patient enough to play the long game too.
Crus can be irresponsible. If he doesn't want to do something, he tries to find a way out of it. This doesn't particularly mean that Crus is lazy - he's done his fair share of hard work during his life, but the weight of responsibilities, of people relying on you, makes him uncomfortable. For that reason he doesn't make many promises to people either. A promise with Crus is a rare thing indeed.
Though stubborn and bullheaded in most things, when it comes to interpersonal conflict Crus will deflect, get defensive, and offer platitudes before anything else. If he can avoid a scrap he will, but his small amount of pride won't let him back down if things get physical. Of course, most conflict of that nature can be avoided by either telling the other person what they want to hear, or by cutting into them with sharp words. Just have to know who you're fighting with. Maybe under different circumstances, Crus could have been quite the manipulator. Might still turn out that way, but at the moment he prefers getting what he wants by taking care of it himself. By the way, Crus is also a pretty talented liar, but he's honest more often than not. That probably makes it all the harder to tell when he is lying.
History On the island of Ororuel in the South Sea, the Acosta family served as governors for the last few generations. It's household housed the former chief Asabien, his son and current chief Barachel and wife, and of course Crus: only son and future chief. There is a certain charm and excitement knowing you're destined to lead people, to take over the family mantle... but as Crus grew up, the feeling wore off quickly.
Though the tradition was to continue with Crus, he consistently fell short of his family's expectations. He had no motivation to take over the position, no interest at all in politics, and did not show any inkling of the skills needed to act as chief. He was a hard worker, so long as it was work he was interested in doing, and carrying a community on his back was not. Instead, his heart was set on adventure. Since early childhood he was the type to feed into his curiosity, leading faux adventuring teams made of the community's kids to discover all their island had to offer. First hand experiences with flora and fauna dealt life lessons in the form of scars, but Crus always went back for more. He was a hands on learner. Traditional classes were never for him, and he shirked many meetings with tutors in favor of outings into nature - whether it be into caves, climbing hills, or diving underwater. If he could touch it, he wanted to know about it; the how, why and when. Philosophy, law, diplomacy... those weren't physical things, and so didn't interest him in the slightest. History was about the only thing he wasn't able to touch that he felt worth learning about. His antics were tolerated as a child, but as the years passed it created a tension and dissonance between himself and the island's older population, including his father and grandfather.
Elders of the island grew worried of the family's future, and considered another one taking over. Anxious, and frankly irritated at the prospective young chief, they openly talked about their concerns and scorn. With each other, with their families, and of course to the chief himself who would hear every complaint and bring it back to his own family.
By the time Crus was a teenager, the friction surrounding him was well established. That time in a person's life is already chaotic and confusing enough, but Crus spent it torn between not wanting to disappoint his family or his community, and wanting to stay true to himself. He'd known for a long time that he didn't want to take on the mantle of chief, and though no amount of pushing, smothering, or convincing would change his mind he let people believe that it might. The time Crus spent in the village was filled with lies, platitudes, and avoidance. At home it was arguing, simmering anger, and strained smiles in between moments of familial love. There was a lot of sneaking off to forget about his duties for a while, a habit he'd never shaken from childhood, but whenever they could his father and grandfather would keep Crus on a short leash. More lessons, more scars.
Whenever he get away, Crus spent most of his time outside of the village. For one, his peers and the younger members of the community still adored him (at least the ones that hadn't taken their elders' mumbling to heart). Playing, helping, or just chatting and relaxing were his favorite pasttimes, besides exploring. Having long since scoured every nook and cranny of Ororuel, more often than not Crus took to the ocean. He pretended to be a Diver and brought back shells, coral, and all kinds of trinkets from the sea bed to give to the little ones - especially his new little sister, whom he could never be upset with. There had been a particularly difficult period of time when it came to light that his parents had been trying for another son. Though it ultimately failed of course, the tactic actually worked for a while, but eventually the frustration caught up with him and Crus disappeared for a few weeks. It was during that time he'd taken a boat out and let the sea's current take him wherever it willed. He slept under the stars, rocked by ocean waves, and eventually drifted to an patch of sea wholly unfamiliar to him. Under the water he ended up coming upon something interesting: the ruined remains of some ancient vessel, half buried in the sea bed and completely covered over with barnacles. What was it? Where did it come from? How had no one found it before? Surely if they had, he would have already known about it. Inside the wreck beside little animals making it a home and trinkets destroyed by time, was an ornate bident. Though crusted with mollusks it had not rusted. Crus' eyes shined at the sight of it, and of course he took it back with him to the surface.
When he came back up to his boat he found an ambush of people from his village waiting to take him back. He supposed he'd been gone a little too long this time. Once returned home he found that his family eased up on him a bit, afraid to lose him for good. The relationship with his family had improved, but it felt like a false sense of security. He placated them more often than not, pretending to come around to the idea of being chief just to keep the peace. Over the next few years Crus merely tolerated living on the island that seemed so small now, preparing for the inevitable but looking for a way out.
And then, when news reached their little island that a Diver crew would be stopping by on their way to some newly discovered ruins, Crus fought to hide his excitement. He kept it cool, acted disinterested, but in reality this was his chance. Real Divers, the kind that explored all the world's oceans and went on all kinds of adventures, coming to his home?
What else could he really have been expected to do, besides stow away?
FIRST DRAFT Basic idea: The son of his island's chief, next in line to take over the governing of the island. Did not wanna do that so he fucked off (eventually). Before fucking off he was an adventurous lad and found a cool bident that looked ancient. When the Divers came through on their way to the newly discovered ruins, Crus stowed away. Scenario 1: he was quickly discovered and made into the cabin boy/deck swabber, intends to stay on with the crew, eventually get license? Scenario 2: he was eventually discovered and see above while the crew decides what to do with him.
Crus had been an exuberant kid. From early childhood he was the type to feed into his curiosity, leading faux adventuring teams made of the community's kids to discover all their island had to offer. First hand experiences with flora and fauna dealt life lessons in the form of scars, but Crus never was a fast learner. His strength was in his body, not his brain, and he shirked many meetings with tutors in favor of outings into nature. His antics were tolerated as a child, but as the years passed it created a tension and dissonance between himself and the island's older population.
The Acosta family had served as the island's governors for generations, passing the title of "Chief" from father to son. The tradition was to continue with Crus, an only son, but he consistently fell short of his family's expectations. He had no motivation to take over the position, no interest at all in politics, and did not show any inkling of the skills needed to act as chief. Elders of the island grew worried of the family's future, considered another one taking over. Though irritated and anxious, they dared not try and correct the chief's son directly - and so instead they openly talked about their concerns. With each other, with their families, and of course to the chief that would hear every complaint and bring it back to his own family, brewing a tense atmosphere at home.
By the time Crus was a teenager, the friction surrounding him was well established. His family attempted cracking down on him, pushing and smothering to take his responsibilities seriously. More lessons, more scars. Stuck between not wanting to disappoint his family, but also wanting to be true to himself, Crus' days grew chaotic and confusing for him. The teenage rebel phase was full of lies, violence, making up, fighting again, running away then begging to come back. There was a particularly difficult period of time when his parents actually tried for another son. It was during this time that Crus pulled completely away, hiding out away from home for days or weeks at a time. Sometimes he would stay with the few friends he still had (it turns out when parents are spreading rumors about someone their kids pick up on it pretty quickly), but more often than not he would lay out under the stars, falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves.
His usual hideaways hadn't been secret for a while now, so to avoid everyone Crus starting going farther and farther. Most of the time this meant out onto the water, and underneath it too. Fearless and a strong swimmer, Crus would take a small boat into the surf and spend days beneath the surface. Everyone heard tales of Divers braving battles and exploring uncharted waters, and it was a common childhood game to pretend they were among the ranks of such people, jumping into the ocean and bringing as many shells onto the shore as they could carry. Maybe it was childish but Crus did the same now, leaving his troubles behind on the surface and just peeking into every cave and crevice under the water looking for anything interesting or new. Or he would just float for a while and let the current sweep him wherever it cared to.
At fifteen, one such occasion of drifting on the sea brought Crus to an unfamiliar place. Intrigued, he got to exploring, and ended up coming upon something interesting: the ruined remains of some ancient vessel, half buried in the sea bed and completely covered over with barnacles. What was it? Where did it come from? How had no one found it before? Surely if they had, he would have already known about it. Inside the wreck were little animals making it a home, trinkets destroyed by time, as well as something that seemed to have withstood the salt water all this time. An ornate bident, though crusted with mollusks it had not rusted. Crus' eyes shined at the sight of it, and of course he took it back with him to the surface.
When he reached his boat he found an ambush of people from his village waiting to take him back. He supposed he'd been gone a little too long this time. Once returned home he was kept on a much shorter leash, which annoyed him to no end, but at the very least this time diving into his studies was more interesting - maybe if he looked hard enough into the area's history he could find some information on that wreck.
Things could never go back to those simple times of childhood. His relationship with his family had improved, but it felt like a false peace. He placated the chief more often than not, pretending to want the mantle. Maybe if he pretended enough even he would believe it. Save for his little sister whom he could never be upset with, Crus merely tolerated living on the island that seemed so small now.
Three years passed, and when news reached their little island that a Diver crew would be stopping by on their way to some newly discovered ruins, Crus fought to hide his excitement. He kept it cool, acted disinterested, but in reality this was his chance. Real Divers, the kind that explored all the world's oceans and went on all kinds of adventures, coming to his home?
What else could he really have been expected to do, besides stow away?
Gear Crus has carried that bident he found for years, clinging to the little sense of adventure it brought him. Besides that he also has a simple rebreather, a small knife, and a woven bag - all things he uses while exploring. Besides that he carries some primitive beigoma, doubling both as his favorite game and as a little keepsake of Ororuel.
_____________________________________
Name Schmitty Warbenjaegermanjensen
Age Eighteen
Gender Male
Home Sea South Sea
Aether Sign Really
Aether Abilities These range from offensive (bubbles, water whips, and wind cutters) to defensive (ice shield, wind barrier) to healing.
In publishing and graphic design, Lorem ipsum is a placeholder text commonly used to demonstrate the visual form of a document or a typeface without relying on meaningful content. Lorem ipsum may be used as a placeholder before the final copy is available. It is also used to temporarily replace text in a process called greeking, which allows designers to consider the form of a webpage or publication, without the meaning of the text influencing the design.
Lorem ipsum is typically a corrupted version of De finibus bonorum et malorum, a 1st-century BC text by the Roman statesman and philosopher Cicero, with words altered, added, and removed to make it nonsensical and improper Latin.
At twenty-two years old, Aaron Miller is the second of two twins - younger by three minutes. And yes, their parents thought it was cheeky to call them the same name. Though an extrovert at heart, Aaron is the more reserved of the two siblings. He is protective, values hard work, and has a lame sense of humor. Together, he and his sister live and work on one of the only farms left in Starlight Cove.
C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y
In its heyday, the Starlight Mill Farm was a large producer of food for the island's residents. Part sprawling farm and part robust ranch, its fresh local fruits, vegetables, and animal products found their way into restaurants and businesses around the island. Abundant harvests also yielded enough that the family that owned it could even export some produce for extra cash, though they preferred to keep things local so the islanders didn't have to rely much on mainland imports.
Unfortunately, the above hasn't been the case in a long time. Nowadays even the property's namesake - the "Miller's Mill" - has broken down and remains in disrepair. It started with in the twins' grandparents' time; the land began to lose something, something vital, and the once flourishing fields started to decline. Over years the crop yields grew smaller and smaller until some just stopped growing altogether. The animals were affected too, the quality of milk and eggs suffering as they became lethargic.
Was it a coincidence that the vitality of the farm lessened when the population of Starlight Cove really began seeing changes as more and more people left permanently for the mainland? No one can say for sure, but the superstitious say that the land itself has lost its luster, its magic, all over the island. If that was really the case, then of course the people that depended the most on that land experienced the 'curse' firsthand.
The Miller twins don't believe in curses though. As the current generation residents and managers of Starlight Mill Farm, they stubbornly work their literally un-yielding land with the hope they can restore it to some of its former glory.
"Aaron." "Erin."
E R I N E R I N
“We're only able to grow wheat right now... eheh... but just watch, soon these fields will be bursting with color!”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
At twenty-two years old, Erin Miller is the first of two twins - older by three minutes. And yes, their parents thought it was cheeky to call them the same name. Erin is a go-getter willing to try anything to get the fields on the island growing again, including investing in so-called "lost magics." She is proud and has a slightly mischievous side. Together, she and her brother live and work on one of the only farms left in Starlight Cove.
C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y
The Miller family has been in Starlight Cove for as long as anyone can remember. They allegedly arrived from the mainland generations ago with only a few seeds and a few cattle, and after settling managed to turn the small farmstead start into a successful - even profitable - farm and ranch. Their namesake, a stone windmill, sat on a hill nearing the property's edge. Anyone visiting the farm would be able to see the large spinning sails from any corner. It's a shame the twins can't get anyone out to fix it in the current generation, as it now stands as a monument to just how far the farm has fallen.
When Erin's parents all but gave up on the farm and planned their move to the mainland a couple years ago, she refused to go with them. And if Erin was staying, then needless to say her brother was too; the twins had always stuck together and had no plans to separate any time soon. Heated discussions turned into arguments, but in the end, the family split up. With a couple of jobs lined up through friends and connections, their parents headed into the city across the water... and the twins were allowed to stubbornly stay behind.
The farm wasn't worth much in its current state, and since they wouldn't make much money selling it remains in the family's possession, technically still in their father's name. Though repeated failures hit them harder and harder each year, the twins remain optimistic that they can turn things around. They'll joke about it, smile and blame things on each others' black thumbs, but its clear in the smudges on their faces and dirt under their nails how hard they're working to restore some 'magic' to the area through the food they plan to grow.
So far the only crop that's managed to survive is hardy winter wheat, and the only livestock that remain are a few chickens and one aging cow.
T H E W A L T E R S F A M I L Y T H E W A L T E R S F A M I L Y
"A quote or something about the family. Replace the image with a picture of their house or something appropriate to the family's theme."
[ ❇ ] B R I E F F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y
The Walters are New Hampshire natives, and they've been living together in Huddeen for about the last ten years. They live in one of two houses are the very end of Mulberry Street, where the pavement turns to dirt driveways. The property itself includes a swatch of land of about a mile, only minimally developed. Since Charles purchased it as a young man, he has refused to sell any portion back to the city for further development. The man himself used to be a regular voice heard at town hall meetings, but has since been replaced by his daughter who has become a nightmare at the local PTA. Historically they haven't been a particularly outgoing family, but they are decent people with a mixed reputation among their neighbors.
Charles grew up in Rockingham County, where he met and married his highschool sweetheart Magdalene. Their romance was put on hold when Charles was drafted for the Vietnam War, then a man in his early twenties. Reuniting after three tours of duty, the couple was eager to settle down and both pooled their money together to purchase land in their home state. Charles has lived there ever since, even after Magdalene passed away 42 happy years later. During that time, Charles found employment as a carpenter, and he spent most of his free time renovating the old home they'd bought and clearing out some of the property. He built the barn with plans to possibly buy some livestock and a pony for the daughter they ended up having, but ultimately never had more than a few chickens.
After hitting seventy years, his age finally seemed to be catching up with him.
Actually I think I fucked up my math with the ages lol uuuuh.... ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅
A paragraph or two of characterization goes here, briefly touching on their personality, background, etc. Add more or remove tables as needed.▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.
A paragraph or two of characterization goes here, briefly touching on their personality, background, etc. Add more or remove tables as needed.
Honestly, he doesn't miss his dad all that much. And considering if his mom and dad had married his name probably would have ended up literally just being "John Smith," he feels like he's dodged a bullet.▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.
The Williams family lives at the end of Mulberry Street - directly across from the Walters family. Originally from Boston, Massachusetts, they moved to Huddeen seven years ago looking for a fresh start somewhere. Nowhere was fresher than some nice countryside. Jordan initially hated the move, upset about moving away from the city and his friends. He didn't like how rural Huddeen was in comparison, but eventually he got used to it seeing as he wasn't going to be able to convince his parents to move back. Even years later he still doesn't love the town, but at least it wasn't all bad. He grew to appreciate some parts of it.
He and John met in school before they realized they were neighbors, and after they started to become friends their mothers did too. The two of them got to the point that they spent almost every day together as kids, and as teenagers they still hang out almost all of the time. Now Jordan considers John his best friend, and Ms. Walters like an aunt. Jordan was staying with the Walters' when the outbreak started. His mother and father had driven to Boston a few days before to attend a time share presentation, and catch up with some family in the area at the same time. No one has heard back from them since they left. ▅
Jarvis was doing an excellent job from where Botan was looking. He'd already found a handful of people! Well, this will be even easier than I expected! She thought to herself. Botan was happily awaiting the people on the lower deck to start making their way up, the thought that they might ignore her not even once crossing her mind. A small commotion at the stairwell nearby drew Botan's attention away from the prospective teammates below, her hair bouncing as she turned quickly to find a young man with his hand clamped in the massive maw of a Pokémon. She regarded the two of them with wide eyes, struggling to remember what this particular Pokémon was called and if it was dangerous. Maybe this person needed help?!
She didn't expect that he would ask to join up with her. She blinked at the recently released man and the Pokémon beside him for a few moments, and then she dove forward with her hands outstretched and a smile from ear to ear.
"Hello! Of course you are welcome to join me!" She said, grabbing Felix's hand in her own and shaking it. "Felix, was it? My name is Botan! It is a pleasure to meet you. My Pokémon partner will be back any moment now with the rest of the group."
Botan was nothing if not enthusiastic. She couldn't wait for Jarvis to return now - he would be so proud of her, finding a member for the group all on her own! Nevermind the fact that Felix and his friend approached her first. Botan released her grip on Felix's hand and looked down at the Pokémon next to him, giving it a smile.
"This little one brought you over here, yes? She has a sharp eye!"
Meanwhile on the lower deck, the Machamp folded a pair of arms behind his back and nodded at Arlo's statement. The blue haired man was right, he was gathering suitable companions. A survivalist would be a perfect addition. Jarvis stood by, waiting patiently while the humans talked among themselves. He met the Ninetale's eyes with a neutral expression, though he breathed in and puffed his chest out a little, letting the other Pokémon know that he was no pushover despite the uniform (that he wore with pride). Once the trainers started moving, Jarvis gestured politely for them to go ahead, and he would follow after.
When he spotted Botan again with a stranger, Jarvis swiftly made his way over to the young lady. He gave Felix and his Mawile a suspicious look, but then Botan was tapping on his arm and introducing everyone.
"Hello everyone! I'm so glad you decided to chat with me. My name is Botan Naito, and this is Felix! We are building an amazing group for exploring Panmia Island, and you who were chosen by Jarvis are invited to join." Her demeanor was dazzling, and it seemed she was already quite comfortable with looping Felix into the whole situation even though they'd just met. The Machamp offered a shallow bow to the lot of them so they would be able to discern who exactly "Jarvis" was. Botan clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled. "An exciting proposition, isn't it?"
Abilities: ▶ Power Attack Actively consume SP while preparing for an attack; unleash for increased damage on attack. ▶ Combat Stance Passive. Increase STR, END, or DEX by 10% at will. Five second cooldown. ▶ Double Strike Active. 25% SP cost. Attack twice with your weapon, dealing incremental bonus damage based off SP consumed. Can be combo'd into from Power Attack. ▶ Sundering Blow Active. 40% SP cost. Strike downwards, causing a burst of energy around you and dealing damage to all enemies. May inflict Stun. Range increases by 5 meters for every 100 SP consumed, starting from a radius of 10 meters. Can be combo'd into from Power Attack. ▶ Reinvigorate Active. 100 MP. Regain 100 SP. Can be used in tandem with Power Attack. ▶ Fluid Power Passive. Power Attack can combo into any offensive skill. ▶ Harmonic Cycles Passive. 5% of HP/SP/MP can be converted into HP/SP/MP. Can be used once per round. ▶ Art of the Split Soul Active. 5% SP and 5% MP per round. Imbue a Weapon or Shield with a portion of your soul, enabling it to float within a 20m radius of you, attacking or defending at your command. This bypasses Equipment slot restrictions. Imbued Weapons or Shields do not grant stats or effects.
Funds: 15883 Rishi
Item Pouch (Common):
Ankle Bells (dented)
Common Health Potion x4
Common Antidote x2
Equipment
Main Hand: Water Tiger Hook Sword UC +7 STR +3 DEX
Weapon can be used to Grapple while attacking, at 80% efficacy.
Off Hand: Adventurer's Buckler C
No extra effect.
Head: Battlerider's Cowl R +50 HP +10 AGI
Increase [Charge] attack damage by 20%. Increase [Riding] proficiency by 10%.
Armor: Lacquered Woodplate UC +30 HP, +20 SP, +5 END
Reduce damage taken by wind and water attacks by 50. Increase damage taken by fire attacks by 15.
Arms: Phantom Flame Bangles R +100 HP +3 AGI +5 END
Reduce fire damage by 35. Consume 100 HP to enhance your equipped weapons with magical flames.
5% resistance to Knockback effects. Mitigates difficulties of movement on slippery terrain.
Accessory: Divining Rattlebones C +8 LCK
No extra effect.
Accessory: Banner of the Raid Chief R +30 SP +15 STR +10 DEX
x% chance of increasing ally’s damage by 10% when they attack. X equals 5 x the amount of party members. This effect does not stack.
Accessory: Deep Red Cloak C
No extra effect.
Accessory:
Perception: Fantastic Gore: Pixelated Pain Setting: 40% Clothing Damage: On Nudity Censor: Personal Profanity Censor: Off Combat Action: Stylish Spell Incantations: Stylish
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_________________ With Klein and Magpie's approval, the trio who stayed behind went to meet up with the others. Before they moved, Ames responded to Klein's thought about getting a reward with a shrug, and read the messages that Amulak and Raime sent back. So Lugh was definitely fine, that was a relief. She could read the scouts' frustration in the text, but Ames scratched her head. Weren't they forgetting about something? They were so pissed at Lugh, they forgot that initially he'd come down here at the request of his temple or whatever, right? Once Klein, Mags, and herself made it over there, Lugh barely acknowledged them before leading the whole group into some kind of hidden area.
It was all very strange. A frown formed on Ames' face and refused to leave.
"Um, don't you guys think Lew is acting kind of weird...?" she whispered to the others as they moved through the run down building. The place was creepy as hell, just as much if not more so than out in the open caverns. And then, Lugh brought them to a room with snake people. Honest to god snake people. Lamias, the creatures they'd been looking for. The ones Lugh had originally come down to investigate. He was acting completely charmed by them, and when Raime's chat text popped up the only thing Ames could think was yeah, no duh.
He was definitely brainwashed. It sucked because they might have to fight against him if things turned south. Raime mentioned keeping guard, but Ames didn't know if she could stay still and listen to the serpentess talk. When the woman first opened her mouth a wave of nausea passed over Ames. As 'Sarasa' continued, the feeling of... wrongness clung to Ames' senses. The red headed Animist's frown deepened, and her brow furrowed. Goosebumps were forming on her skin. What if... she's trying to hypnotize us right now? Wait, was it eyes or voice?
Ames swallowed a lump in her throat. She couldn't quite remember which Karan had warned them of, but if that was the case... then the group should cut to the chase. None of them really wanted to go on some quest for snake people, most of them wanted to go back to the city to prepare for the clan war. It would be better to just leave here as soon as possible, but they'd promised to look into the disappearances. Answers first. Who knew, maybe the lamias would be amicable, like those oni she and Mags had encountered before? Surely it would be better to ask questions before jumping the gun, like they had with that player in the dark cave.
"Actually," she began, cutting a glance at Raime, "we came to make sure Lugh was alright, and follow up on his investigation. There have been some children going missing from the human towns nearby."
Ames's voice was quavering slightly discomfort, but she went on with a direct question. "Do you know anything about that?"
Word Count: 780 (+2 exp) Level: 8 - Total EXP: 7/80 Location: Edge of the Blue - The Maw
Ace and Nadia were practically in a race against Moreau, frantically making their way as fast as possible toward the lower level before the monster could squash their friend. Fortunately Link was not a stationary target, and the Hylian was doing his best to keep away from the mutant - and succeeding! Well his plan worked! the Cadet thought, pulling some positivity into his brain while he worked his way down. All things considered, it was going pretty well for them in this area of the Maw. Just had to keep the optimism up - and he was trying, even as a distressing noise filtered over to them from the direction of the Command Center. The Cadet descended the ladder and landed next to Nadia, his eyes wide and confused. There had been nothing in the Command Center when they left it, only those that were handling the underwater part of the plan. Where would something even get in from?
"They'll be okay," he assured her after she tried reasoning with herself. Geralt had gone back there, plus Blazermate had just flown back with a big chunk of metal. Not to mention the rest of them keeping guard. Who knew, that noise might have even been some kind of weird echo with Moreau as it's source. Positive thoughts.
Ace Cadet followed her to the bottom level. The more people working on this "Moreau problem," the better. Once they were on the ground, the Cadet's mind shifted from thinking positive thoughts to thinking of solutions. It might be possible to play keep away with Moreau, shifting his attention from one kid to another to keep him from focusing on catching just one of them. While they did that, another one of them could go help Junior, and once they were in the clear they could all try and climb to safety. Nadia, with her speed and dexterity, might be a better fit for dodging the monster... but the Cadet knew she was exhausted. Her agility might not hold out. Besides, even if the Cadet was turned into a kid he was still monster hunter. Facing off against bigger threats was kind of his thing. He just had to figure out how to do that in his current state.
"Nadia," he said, catching the feral's attention. "Go find a way to get Junior out of here. Between the two of you, I know you can do it. Boost him up, or find a low hanging platform and pull him up - whatever works, okay? I'll go help Link distract fishface until you're both back to safety." He smiled at her, hopefully in a way she found reassuring, before he went ahead with his plan to split up.
Step one: find those cutters that had fallen into the water. He scoured the immediate area for them while Link was still the monster's target and Kamek tried talking it down. That definitely wouldn't work, but if it distracted Moreau then the Cadet hoped the koopa didn't run out of breath any time soon. Finally, the red head spotted the tool laying atop a junk pile. He snatched them up then ran towards where the creature was still thrashing. He studied Moreau, doing his best to judge what the weakest areas of the monster would be based on those from his own world, and some common sense. The tail was a no-go, it was waving about violently and one thwack from it looked like enough to seriously injure any of them, if not worse. It's arms were not ideal for much the same reason, and though it's face looked menacing the real danger was that belly flop. The analysis led into step two: make it split it's attention between two targets.
While Moreau was chasing after Link, the Cadet ran back to get on a higher platform again. Moreau was already trying to snap at the catwalks before, so getting him to turn away from the ground floor would help all of those still down there. His arms and legs were sore and aching, but he pushed himself up and waited. Soon enough the monster came by, crossing close under the platform the Cadet was on. The young monster hunter raised the cutters and - trying his best not to fumble - snipped off a few of the wriggling tentacles protruding from it's back.
"Ha ha!" He caught one of the appendages in his hand and threw it down at Moreau. "Yeah, listen to Kamek and give up, you can't catch any of us!" He taunted, resisting the urge to jump down onto the beast and stab like he would have done if he was still in his adult body.
Word Count: 582 (+1 exp) Level: 5 - Total EXP: 26/50 Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon Northwest: Obelisk Temple 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● D34C25
No matter how many times she stared at the same hieroglyphs in the room, Primrose's brain couldn't form any useful patterns to them. There was no codex she could see, and even if the symbols themselves were familiar in the way they depicted simple shapes or common objects, she couldn't make sense of them in a meaningful way. Their "Babylonian" ally confirmed that the door they wanted was enchanted, so there had to be something... so all she could do was keep looking.
The sound of people approaching quickly drew her attention away from the task. Surely not enemies? Primrose tensed herself in anticipation, but moments later the missing trio appeared. The three of them looked a little beat up, but they were otherwise in high spirits. It was good news. Primrose smiled at the lot of them, returning Panther's wave with a small one of her own. Everyone was safe there in the room, so rather than offering a healing spell to them Primrose refocused on trying to discover the secret to opening the door. Hopefully with more eyes, they would make quick work of it.
The dancer didn't expect that she would be the first to find a clue. With her eyes on the pillars and walls, she hardly noticed shapes in the sand on the ground. Her foot kicked something rather hard and she winced, glancing down at it. It was a smooth stone... too smooth. She knelt down, brushing sand away from the thing and unveiling a beetle statue. A magical one too, if the glow was anything to go by.
"Look at this," she said, calling attention to the discovery. She placed her hand on the beetle sculpture and it's glow strengthened, but nothing changed within the room. She tried turning it, but no part of the statue budged. The professor would have a field day with this, she thought, but when it comes to puzzles, I am a little more direct... Primrose stood up and kicked the beetle with her heel. It's soft light intensified, and then the matching carving on the door shifted. A lock undone, she guessed.
Pleased with herself, Primrose listened to Band's story. It was, sort of, corroborated by Kan-Ra. Even if the story ended up having nothing to do with the puzzle, the group didn't have much in the way of other theories. So, they just had to look for some other stone beetles. Primrose didn't see any with a cursory look, but she had another idea.
"Someone should inform Tora and Poppi," she said first. Then, she summoned her more recent Striker. The hunting wolf spirit was as eager to come at her call now as it was when she'd summoned it before in the museum. It fluttered around her once, but she ran a hand over it's head and brought it's attention to the beetle statue at her feet. "Here, Makami. Find us more of these."
The spirit barked and put it's flat snout to the stone. After a second or two is floated into the air, it's body twisting as it flew in a tight circle. Then it moved with purpose, flying over to a beetle statue mounted on a far wall. It was partially hidden within the shadow of a pillar, but while it was concealed from sight the wolf's nose was able to point it out. The spirit disappeared soon after that, but not before Panther and Carmen struck the statue and set it's light shining.
On the upper deck, a young woman stood against the railing overlooking the bow of the ship. She was smiling brightly, taking in the sun and salty breeze, letting it warm her skin and blow her long brown hair about. The cruise had been a lot of fun, for being on the smaller side. The dining hall had a decent spread of tasty foods, and there had been all kinds of things to do. Even the time spent just getting to the port before boarding had been an interesting adventure. Botan had pointed out all the interesting Pokémon to her companion, amazed at how different two of the same species could be. Who knew Ponyta could have puffy manes made of anything but fire? Or that Weezing could have such elongated heads?! She'd been absolutely charmed seeing such Pokémon in person - and now, they were almost to their destination! Panmia Island, where they would go exploring where no one had before! Botan was eagerly listening to the voice over the PA, but one thing mentioned in particular made her smile widen even further.
"A Pokédex! Oh Jarvis, did you hear that? We'll get a Pokédex!" She cheered, raising her arms up in celebration. "I wonder if it already has information in it? Or maybe it's one of those advanced ones that can call and take pictures!"
She stepped away from the railing and spun around in a circle. "I almost feel like a little kid!"
When she came to a stop, Botan was facing towards a little alcove nearby. She thrust her hand out, pointing at the Pokémon standing beneath it. "You won't complain if the first thing I scan with it is you, right?"
The Pokémon uttered a rumbling noise, which Botan took as permission granted. Her companion walked out of the shade, revealing a huge, muscular form that nearly towered over the girl. Jarvis was the Machamp her family had asked to take with her on the expedition. He was an older 'mon, but with strength and loyalty to spare. Plus, he was secretly Botan's favorite of all her family's Pokémon employees. The journey on the island would have been a lot of fun with just the two of them, but their hosts urged the importance of safety in numbers.
"Almost there, Jarvis! We'll have to find some other people to -"
"Maaaa."
"I know, you are more than enough to handle anything dangerous. But it could be fun!"
The Machamp crossed one pair of arms in front of his chest, while the other pair was dutifully folded behind his back. He seemed skeptical of traveling with others, but Botan quickly caught on.
"If it's the people you're worried about, by all means please vet everyone on board! Now, let me think about the kind of people I'd want in my group..."
Botan looked over the side, checking to see if she could spot people on the lower deck while she hummed to herself.
"Smart people, fun people, people good with Pokémon... or a big mix? What do you think, Jarvis?"
"Cha."
"Hmm, good point!" Botan glanced at the Machamp over her shoulder. "Well, I trust you, so would you go find me the best group members? I'll wait here safe and sound, promise."
She waited until Jarvis swept a hand in front of his chest and bowed before she turned away, staring out over the water and the ship with a content smile. Her companion straightened up and turned toward the stairs leading to the lower deck. His footfalls were heavy, and when he reached the more populated area of the ship most people and Pokémon gave him a wide berth.
Operation "find Lady Botan a suitable group" was underway. Now, Jarvis was a Machamp. He was strong, he was helpful, and sometimes he was clever. What he wasn't was some Psychic-type that could read minds or auras. So he had to rely on his intuition to find the perfect candidates... and his eyes of course. For example, there was a blue-haired woman doing her best not to be sick of the side of the ship. Jarvis shook his head. A weak constitution like that wouldn't do.
He walked around the deck with all four hands clasped behind his back, scrutinizing everyone with a look that bordered on haughty. What few people caught his attention were already settled in their groups from what he could tell, so he moved on. Eventually he came upon a few people milling about the refreshment area. Jarvis brought a hand to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. Would they make good companions for Lady Botan? He didn't sense that they were bad people, and like many Pokémon his instinct when it came to that was seldom wrong. Plus if he didn't act soon, he might miss the chance to actually choose partners for Botan. Rather than sit back and watch them, Jarvis gave in to his Fighting-type nature and approached the group - three humans and a Ninetails. If it turned out any of them were trouble, he would have no issue dealing with them after all.
When his presence was known, Jarvis snorted and pointed at the individuals. Then, he turned his hands upward and pointed at a young woman on the upper deck, who seemed to notice this and waved cheerily. She made a beckoning motion with her hand, inviting the group up.
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8fb8f456-882a-426c-a680-b47401f20c22.png[/img]
[b]If you're on my page, check out the RP [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193061-world-of-light-the-endless-now-the-ultimate-vg-crossover-rp/ooc]World of Light[/url]![/b]
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[h3][sub][color=gray]♤[/color] 21+ [color=gray]|[/color] UTC-5 [color=gray]|[/color] Casual Roleplayer [color=gray]|[/color] 1x1's: [b]closed[/b] [color=gray]♤[/color][/sub][/h3]
[color=gray]___________________________________________________________________[/color]
Hello! I'm [color=springgreen]Yankee[/color].
I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc.
I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic stories. I love fluff and whump in equal measure (well... maybe whump a lil more)
I enjoy creating original characters for RP, but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games!
On that note I like [abbr=including manga]comic books[/abbr], [abbr=including anime]cartoons[/abbr], and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!
I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is [color=springgreen]once per week[/color] or less. I usually post on [color=springgreen]weekends[/color].
I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously.
[b]Remember[/b]: fiction =/= reality.
Feel free to PM me if you like,
however [color=tomato]I do not check PMs immediately.[/color] Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.
Forward all complaints to [@stone]
+
[img]https://i.imgur.com/iYtoiU7.png[/img][/center]
[sub]If I suddenly drop off the face of the earth without saying anything, just assume the worst.[/sub]
[right][sub][sub][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/179862-yankees-characters-past-present/ooc]Character Storage Locker.[/url][/sub][/sub][/right]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8fb8f456-882a-426c-a680-b47401f20c22.png" /><br><br><span class="bb-b">If you're on my page, check out the RP <a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193061-world-of-light-the-endless-now-the-ultimate-vg-crossover-rp/ooc">World of Light</a>!</span><br><font color="gray">___________________________________________________________________</font><br><div class="bb-h3"><sub><font color="gray">♤</font> 21+ <font color="gray">|</font> UTC-5 <font color="gray">|</font> Casual Roleplayer <font color="gray">|</font> 1x1's: <span class="bb-b">closed</span> <font color="gray">♤</font></sub></div><br><font color="gray">___________________________________________________________________</font><br><br>Hello! I'm <font color="springgreen">Yankee</font>. <br>I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc.<br>I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic stories. I love fluff and whump in equal measure (well... maybe whump a lil more)<br>I enjoy creating original characters for RP, but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games!<br>On that note I like <abbr class="bb-abbr" title="including manga">comic books</abbr>, <abbr class="bb-abbr" title="including anime">cartoons</abbr>, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!<br><br>I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is <font color="springgreen">once per week</font> or less. I usually post on <font color="springgreen">weekends</font>. <br>I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously.<br><span class="bb-b">Remember</span>: fiction =/= reality.<br><br>Feel free to PM me if you like,<br>however <font color="tomato">I do not check PMs immediately.</font> Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.<br><br>Forward all complaints to <a class="bb-mention" href="/users/stone">@stone</a><br><br>+<br><br><img src="https://i.imgur.com/iYtoiU7.png" /></div><br><br><sub>If I suddenly drop off the face of the earth without saying anything, just assume the worst.</sub><br><br><div class="bb-right"><sub><sub><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/179862-yankees-characters-past-present/ooc">Character Storage Locker.</a></sub></sub></div></div>
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