High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Right, so, this will be where i store all my rp/character/whatever ideas that i can't currently implement so that I don't lose track of them.
If anyone wishes to give feedback or otherwise discuss these ideas please do not post in this thread. Instead, just message me directly. I would like to keep this specific thread for my personal use as a storage space, thank you.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
EM emissions are dispersing, contact with Sigma base located outside [DATA EXPUNGED] city has been restored. On-site personel are still gathering event data, however General R.T. Baker has forwarded this innitial report:
"At 1837 hours today an explosion occured in [DATA EXPUNGED] city that seems to have wiped out approximately [DATA REDACTED]% of the population. Current intel suggests that the explosion was caused by activation of [DATA REDACTED] unit, likely activated by one [DATA REDACTED] cell that intelligence has suspected was opperating within [DATA EXPUNGED] city over the last [DATA REDACTED] months.
While specific measurements are impossible to make at this time, most of the city seems to have been destroyed in the explosion. Innitial conerns were that nuclear weaponry had been involved due to the large amounts of EM radiation, but subsequent analysis shows no nuclear radiation present. This increases the likelyhood of one or more [DATA EXPUNGED] untit(s) being the source of the blast.
All synthetic material present within the blast radius seems to have been atomized, however organic material was left untouched. Innitial survey teams have reported no survivors.
Further reports will be sumbitted as more information is gathered"
Sigma base has enacted CODE:K-Tex protocols in responce to possible M-scenario threat levels. No resources are to be spent on Media Control Tactics at this time.
FTE Report -017-
7:51AM, January 16th, 20XX[DATA REDACTED]
Location: ISM Outpost Echo
AUDIO REPORT FROM FIELD AGENT C. TXXXXR[DATA REDACTED]
"Jesus... Jesus Fucking Christ [gasping noises, followed by choked sobbing, quickly interrupted by forced recomposure]. My... My name [sudden throat clearing] My name is agent [AUDIO DATA REDACTED], of ISM Outpost Echo, located 3 clicks outside of [AUDIO DATA EXPUNGED], Germany. As of the time of this recording, I am the only agent stationed at this outpost confirmed alive and fit for duty.
Approximately 3 hours ago, an explosion all but leveled... fuck I won't even bother mentioing the city's name, Brass'll just erase that part of the recording anyways. A lot of fuckin good that'll do, you can't just hide the fact that [DATA EXPUNGED] souls were just snuffed out in a fucking second... god damn...
[There is a pause several seconds long before the agent again clears their throat and continues] Anyways, the city is gone. Not destroyed, gone. Everything.
Well, everything except for all the... wood. And grass...
Organic things are still there, completely unharmed as if the explosion never even happened. but the people, the animals, everything in the city, including my fellow agents who were in the city limits at the time of explosion, everything with a heartbeat dropped dead as far as my observations...
... shit, I... no.. god damn, I have to be prfessional about this. Fuck!
Not... everything, there was one confirmed life form that remained active when i went to investigate. Agent [DATA EXPUNGED].
When I found him, he was lying unconscious, just outside of point Echo-07. I approached the agent his breathing was shallow, but he was woken up by 'mild auditory stimulation' [the subject mumbles the next part bitterly] 'course i can't just fuckin say i shouted his name a few times and he came to... god fucking... why am I even bothering with this...?
[There is another pause before the agent resumes] Agent [DATA EXPUNGED] seemed disoriented at first, and wasn't responding to any questioning on my part. Instead, his first action was to roll over on all fours and proceed to regurgitate what seemed to be the entire contents of his stomach, accompanied by profuse perspiration and severe diareha. Basically, his body seemed to just be rejectingeverything that was inside it prior to the explosion.
I attempted to resume questioning so as to gain a better perspective of the situation, but Agent [DATA EXPUNGED] remained unresponsive, opting instead to hold his throat by both hands and breathing heavily, as if severely dehydrated. I wouldn't be very fucking surprised if he was considering all teh fluids he just finished pumping out of his own system. at least at the time I wouldn't have been. Now.. now I just don;t know what teh hell was going on with him...
Agent [DATA EXPUNGED] began repeatedly stating that he was hungry, and that he wanted to eat, often simply repeating the word 'hungry' in a low voice. I attempted to further question the agent, offering to provide food in return for his cooperation, however he continued to disregard my presence, seemingly not even realizing I was there.
That was when I drew-... That was when I began questioning what level of sanity agent [DATA EXPUNGED] was opperating under. Out of precaution I slowly distanced myself from him and cautiously drew my side arm, this was precicely when he took notice of me. Agent [DATA REDACTED] immediately turned his attention towards me and took notice of my weapon. Becoming visibly enraged, Agent [DATA EXPUNGED] quickly got to his feet and ran at me, growling furiously and baring a set of deffinitely inhuman teeth. Instinctively I raised my weapon and placed two shots between... Actualy, come to think of it, it wasn't me he was running at, it was my gun. sonofa-...
Anyways, I placed two shots in his head at near point blank range, causing him to topple over and crumple to the ground. Believing agent [DATA EXPUNGED] dead, I holstered my weapon and surveyed the area, attempting to discover any evidence as to what had transpired. However, a few instants later i heard agent [DATA EXPUNGED] growl back to life. I...
Christ i watched him get up. I watched him, two bullet holes fresh in his skull, growl like some fuckig animal and rise like a god damned zombie...
He looked at me, square in the eyes, and i saw the bullet wounds close themselves. Did you hear what i said? Without leaving so much as a sracch, the holes closed up like nothing had happened, even his blood was just... reabsorbed into his head.
then... then he got up again, and ran at me, again. So i shot, again, but i didn;t leave it at two shots. I emptied my whole fucking clip into that son of a bitch. He didn;t even go down again. The shots made him stumble and lose his balance, but he was back on his feet faster than ever, and still coming at me, at my gun.
I panicked.
I didn;t have time to reload so i just tossed my weapon asside and reached for a fragmentation grenade i brought with me. you know, just in case.
I mean, fuck, a whole city just went up in a flsh of light, and communication was knocked out. I damn well knew that anything i found down there might need a little more than your standard fare if i encountered opposition, right? so i grabbed a few extras before heading out. Fucking saved my life too.
Agent [DATA EXPUNGED] he... he ignored me at first. when I threw my pistol away he went for it instead of me. He jumped on it like a lion catching a gazelle, and did pretty much the same thing. he put it in his mouth and stared eating.
Christ, the soundit made was just... unnatural. Like it was being shredded and crunched up by a machine, or like... bu a dozen machines. i can;t fucking describe it, but the sound of him... 'eating'... with those sharp, metal teeth.... It's like i can still hear it in the back of my skull...
anyways, that gave me the time I needed to grab that grenade, and when he was done eating i snaapped out of it and pulled the pin before tossing it at him... the bastard turned around and jumped up to catch it in his mouth.
I hit the dirt and a second later the upper half of his torso was blown away.
Worried that there might be more of where he came from deeper inside the city, I quickly regained my vehicle and made my way back to the outpost in order to make another attempt at contacting command.
Onc I arrived, however, I was horrified to see that I wasn't alone. Sometime after i left, agent [DATA EXPUNGED} started regenerating. Yeah, from having everything above his abs blown clean off...
It musn't have taken long either, because he followed after my jeep afterwards, all teh way to the outpost. when i stopped my vehicle in front, I was finaly made aware of the fact that he'd been tailing me when he slammed headfirst into the vehicle and started eating it like he did my gun earlier. that's when i finally caught sight of what he'd become.
the parts of his body that had regenerated didn't look human anymore. Fuck they didn't even look like they belonged on this planet. He looked like a machine, silvery and shiny, with blades sticking out of every concievable fucking angle on his head and shoulders. Every time his mouth opened his jaw would unhinge like a fucking snake and it woudl show how inside it was nothing more than rows, upon rows, upon row, upon more fucking row of small blades. not teeth, fucking blades, spinning and grinding, ready to take any chunk of metal introduced into his mouth and turn it into fucking dust.
Thankfully for me he seemed more interested in the car than me, so i got out and bolted for the outpost. i think that the quick moevemnt caught his attention though, because i barely had time to close the door behind me before he came and slammed into it, quickly ripping it up. I didn't waste any fucking time, terrified like i was. I got to the trap door and got into the bunker beneath the outpost and sealed myself in before he could get to me, and it wasn't long before i hear him... clawing, and scratching, and... screaming. god what teh fuck was that even? you wouldn't expect something that looked like that to make any human sounds but... god damn that screaming turned the blood in my veins into ice.
Anyways, the scratching and clawing continued for a while, but it's stopped now. If i'm lucky it means he's gone back to eating my jeep and just forgot about me. but after everything i;ve seen I'm not gonna believe in luck anymore, that's why i'm making this recording.
I'm currently holed out in the communications room of the bunker, and i've barricaded the entrance with anything i could find that wasn't critically required to contact HQ.
I'll upload this recording to the outpost uplink so that if worse comes to worse, at least command will know what the fuck happened here.
Afterwards, I won;t be leaving this room till can get into contact with HQ and find out just what the fuck happened here.
I only pray to god that someone comes to extract me before that thing finds its way in here and gets me.
This is Agent [DATA REDACTED], signing out."
TECHNOPHAGE - Of Oil and Bones
Sometime in the early 21st century, there was a mass terrorist attack carried out simultaneously across nearly thirty major cities all across the world. within minutes of each other, bombs went off in over 15 countries wiping out hundreds of millions of human lives.
The bombs all had the peculiar trait of seemingly attacking only synthetic materials. That is, materials with no organic base, such as concrete, or steel, or even heavily processed products like plastic. These objects would get completely destroyed, seemingly atomized by the blast. But organic things such as wood, plants, fruits, and most foods didn't get a scratch. That being said, living things were not spared by the blast; autopsies would later reveal that all animal life found its neurological functions disabled once caught in the blast. In other words: once the blast wave hit, it would have forcefully shut off all functions in the brain, killing the victims instantaneously. It's speculated that this effect is related to the incredibly powerful electromagnetic interference that also characterized the explosions. Together, the blasts generated an EMP force powerful enough to knock out almost all communications across the world for several hours.
either way, what little of the cities were left to be considered their rubble was filled with the corpse of all the cites' now deceased inhabitants, including all the animal life. However, they would not all be dead.
Some few -whether they be fortunate or unfortunate is for one to decide themselves- survived the attacks, and made their way out of the rubble and broken bodies. However, out of the carnage they came... changed. Almost every individual cell in heir bodies had been replaced by nanomachines fulfilling the same functions.
These would-be refugees were also severely psychologically unstable, prone to bursts of violence, and were plagued with an insatiable sense of hunger. However they could no longer consume normal foods, their bodies rejecting almost anything they consumed if it could be considered even close to what humans call food.
What they hungered for were machines. They needed to eat synthetic materials to sustain themselves, especially metals.
Everything from toaster ovens to machine guns to computer chips were fair game as far as these 'survivors' were concerned. These people and animals were no longer what they were before the blast; they were now capable of rearranging their bodies at will, materializing blades and claws to kill anyone or anything that stood in the way of their feasting.
The more they ate, the more they grew, the more powerful they became, and the more they needed to eat. Thus the monsters known as Technophages were born.
Humanity was forced to flee the advancement of these literal killing machines, as most had no way of fighting back. Melee weaponry and most firearms were more than useless, instead just providing more materials for the technophages to devour, and even explosives had limited effect in damaging them, since they could simply regenerate whatever parts were blown off. The problem was that as long as even a few nanomachines were left and they still had access to synthetic materials, the machines could eventually reconstruct the entire body. Thus to destroy them permanently one had to destroy them completely, down to the last nanobot.
Acid showed to be effective, but had little use outside of traps.
Advanced plasma weaponry did have some effect in letting humans strike back, since the intense heat completely destroyed any nanobots it came into contact with, but it was still a chore to completely destroy an entire technophage down to the last nanite.
The only effective weapon humanity developed for striking back were EM weapons. By harnessing electromagnetic properties and creating what were essentially EMP guns, humans created a weapon that could destroy an entire Technophage in one or two shots (for the bigger models of guns anyways) since, unlike plasma rounds, the electromagnetic pulse fired by the weapons were not limited to only destroying the first layer of machine they came into contact with. The EMP would pass right through an entire technophage and short out every nanobot it came into contact with,
However, these guns were both difficult and expensive to make, so there were not incredibly many floating around with most of the major factories of the world gone with the cities. Most now are hoarded by hunter guilds, small groups of trained soldiers who perform routine raids on known technophages, attempting to slowly turn the tide of their invasion.
Despite all this, there was one truth that most people were not aware of. Not all technophages had gone feral.
Some very few of the human technophages retained their sanity even after being transformed, and were able to resist becoming mindless killing machines. However, these few sentient technophages are now on the run, constantly fighting against the human hunters guilds who would wipe them out like any other technophages. They also have to fight against other technophages, because when a feral gets hungry enough, it is far from above eating its own kind for sustenance. And most tragically they must fight themselves constantly. They must resist their violent impulses and find a way to sate their hunger for machinery, lest it drive them insane and they go feral as well.
However, unbeknownst to most, even them, these sentient technophages would soon be revealed to be humanity's best shot at survival. The best chance humanity had to be rid of the Technophage menace.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Name: Auron Borus (a romanization of his true name pronounced as 'Ouroboros')
Age: 5 sheddings and 8 scales (Naga, being cyclically immortal, measure age and time differently than humans. A shedding is when a naga's corporeal body withers away and they are reborn in a new body. A naga can tell how close they are to their next shedding by how many scales have grown in a line down their throat and towards their chest. Upon their first life, a naga will 'shed' soon after growing their ninth scale, but an extra scale is added to every new incarnation they take. It takes approximately 3-5 years for a scale to grow. This would put Auron somewhere between 189 to 315 in human years. By his own admission the later number 'sounds about right')
Race: Naga
The Naga are a race of powerful serpentine warrior mages. First generation Naga are born when the egg of a snake is dipped in molten silver, then fed to a cobra, who must then be drowned in a pool of water purified by flakes of white gold and blessed with Snakefang root extract. The result is a pure white, scaleless snake with emerald eyes slithering out of the pool sometime later. This form is what several Naga would consider their 'embryonic' form (though it is closer, biologically, to an infancy stage) and the white snake must survive for 108 years before transforming into a true Naga.
Naga are at both times great warriors, and erudite mages, being gifted with strong bodies and sharp minds, as well as all the time in the world to master whatever techniques and spells they may apply themselves to. They are traditionally masters of the spear, and have refined its usage to an art form. Naga are also powerful shape shifters who can seamlessly transition between their snake form and a human form, though the state most of them feel most comfortable with is a gorgon-like form possessing the head, arms and torso of a human, with the tail of a snake.
Every time a Naga undergoes a shedding, they are reborn as a young adult with different physical features from their own (similar to a time lord's regeneration) but retain all of their past memories and abilities. The only physical characteristic that will stay completely unchanged throughout each of a naga's sheddings will be the colour of their hair/scales, and the Naga use this fact in order to separate themselves by rank in their culture. The lowliest in their culture are the black naga, followed by red and orange naga, then green and yellow naga, then the blue naga, and finally with the rare white naga at the top of the social hierarchy. It shoudl be noted however that, as naga are typically solitary creatures who only very rarely amass together in large groups, these social divisions are rarely present in their day-to-day lives.
While a Naga cannot use their shape shifting change their physical characteristics in order to copy another's appearance, they are free to shift between any previous form they have taken during a former 'life' and it id not uncommon for naga to favour one particular appearance over another. Though it is rare, a naga will sometimes be reborn as a different gender when they have shed, allowing them to shift between male and female forms at will. This has led to the misconception that Naga are genderless or hermaphroditic creatures.
Another misconception of the Naga is that they are Hematophagic, that they drink blood for sustenance. It is actually their close cousins the Lamiae (separable from the naga by the fact that a Lamia's scales will never be monochromatic, but rather copy the patterns of a real snake) who feed nearly exclusively on blood. For a Naga to consume the blood of another is a very sacred act, as it is how they reproduce. As they consume the blood of their partner, they also consume part of their essence, resulting in them soon falling into a deep hibernation state that will usually last approximately 48 hours. Naga tradition demands that none besides the naga's partner (or, in the case of medical complications requiring a physician's aide, another naga) lay eyes upon the dormant naga during this time. When the naga wakes, they will regurgitate a small egg from their mouth, the approximate size of a baseball, red in coloration and flecked with shimmering white speckles (The egg 'laying' process is so sacred to the naga that none other than the parent are allowed to bear witness to it, no matter the circumstance). The egg is then placed in a prepared nest near a heat source (traditionally between an open flame and a running stream of water) and hatches anywhere from 2 to 6 days later, spawning one to three white, scaleless snakes. It is customary for the Naga parent to then offer a small portion of their own blood as their offspring's first meal, a symbolic gesture that is believed to impart some of the parent's soul onto the newborn and bless them with good fortune. This is done primarily because soon after hatching the infant Naga (referred to as Nagini) will quickly slither away and, like their parents before them, be tasked with the challenge of surviving for 108 years before becoming a true Naga. It is a severe social taboo for a naga parent to attempt to keep their child nearby after the hatching, and to ensure that they live to see the full 108 years of their 'infancy'.
Because of this unique form of reproduction, it is possible for both male and female Naga to lay eggs. It should be noted however that a naga, upon exiting the nagini stage, will always have the same hair/scale coloration as their parent. because of this it is considered incredibly taboo in Naga culture for Naga of different colours to mate with one another. It is said that such unions to give birth to monstrous and demonic offspring and it is believed in Naga culture that the Gorgon and Lamia races were created by such means, leading to the vast majority of them treating Gorgons and Lamiae as inferior sub-races to their own.
It should be noted that, in the case of male naga, it is possible for them to reproduce with females of other species in the more 'common' form. However, such unions will only create offspring of the mother's race, never another naga.
As an interesting aside, when a Naga becomes aroused, their venom actually becomes a potent aphrodesiac. This is theorized to be an evolutionary reaction to the fact that, being solitary creatures, they must frequently mate with beings of other species. The aphrodisiac is most likely a tool they developped at an earlier stage of their evolution in order to sedate their mates with pleasure while drawing the blood necessary to reproduce. In modern days, it isn't uncommon for Naga to engage in self-stimulation in order to become aroused, and then collect the venom from their fangs, which can later be processed and distilled before being sold as a popular 'love potion' in most markets. For many naga, it is possible to make a comfortable living from the sale of these potions alone.
While naga cannot die of natural causes, being reborn every time their bodies whither away, they can still be victims of murder.
Class: Master Spellblade
Title: Sect Master
Sect Study: Dominus
Appearance: Auron's appearance is variable, due to him being a naga, however he has 3 'preferred' forms that he is most commonly seen in. his current physical form is that of an older man with a cross-shaped scar on the left side of his face and short, combed-back hair atop a balding head. This is the form he is most frequently seen in when walking around campus, as he finds it is the one most befitting his image as a sect master.
When Auron is demonstrating potent magic or complex physical techniques, he changes shape to a younger form, that of his 3rd shedding. In this form he is notably quite handsome, with wind-swept hair and piercing crimson eyes, and is a few inches taller than he is in his normal form. If he had to say, he woudl call this his combat form, as it is the one in which he has spent the most time wielding his spear.
His third most common form is his full-sake form, which has remained relatively unchanged throughout his different incarnations. His 'true' form is that of a great sea serpent several kilometres long, but thanks to his shape shifting arts he can restrict the size of his snake transformation to only being about a dozen feet long. This is the form he typically takes on when he relaxing in his personal quarters.
It should be noted that, for either of his 'human' forms, he is equally likely to be seen with two legs as he is to be seen with a long, white snake tail extending from his abdomen.
Normal form
combat/young form
Full serpent form
Personality: Auron is a stern old man who takes much pride in all his work, especially raising the students under him to their highest potential. As sect master of Dominus, he embraces the values of versatility and creativity on the battlefield, espousing the virtues that form and technique, while important, are only steppingstones to martial perfection. The true warrior transcends form and technique, and the limitations they impose, and lets his movements flow freely according to the needs of the battlefield. He considers the pursuit of martial perfection as both a deep science and the greatest of artforms, and has little love for those who bring technology to the battlefield, considering it a sacred place for warriors to pit mind body and spirit against one another's. With his students he is tough but fair, and disparages none regardless of whatever fighting style they adopt. Rather than profess one almighty form of battle, he embraces how each student must discover the path to their own perfection and how to best utilize the skills and traits they have studied and inherited.
Of course, being familiar with both magical and pysical combat, he values the training of the mind and soul as equally as he does the training of the body, and thus is a giftend academic and avid artist (by virtue of poetry) on top of a proud warrior.
It's often been said that his greatest personal flaw is that he is incredibly hard to please, as he often expects that everyone around him give their utmost to whatever task they have chose/are assigned to.
Weapon(s): While Auron has mastered dozens of styles of martial craft, and is proficient with the use of hundreds of weapons, the two weapons he has the most love for are his Talisman deck and serpent spear
Abilities/Magic: (Self-Explanatory. Keep in mind your rank and title. Also give a small description of what they do.)
History: (Self-Explanatory. Try for at least three paragraphs here.)
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Class: Tinkerer/inventor - Marco has little to no combat capabilities himself, but doesn't enjoy relying on his golem companion bobby too much. As a result he's come to put his natural Tinkering abilities to use in trying to craft several useful gadgets (mainly various kinds of explosives, as well as some clockwork pistols) to use in combat. He is also dedicating himself to studying golem crafting and history under professor Phaestus whenever he has the spare time and hopes to eventually learn some enchanting magic and start implementing that in his crafting. As it stands, however, his specialty is trapwork and he fares very poorly in direct combat by himself.
Title: Student
Sect Study: Red - Ultris
Appearance:
He also has a pair of magnifying goggles hanging around his neck that he uses during his crafting sessions.
Personality: Despite his self-imposed exile, Marco has always been and still remains a very energetic youth full of curiosity and wonder (wonder where his golem got those personality traits from). Ever since he was a child he has been fascinated with mechanics and gadgetry, owing a lot of this to observing his father and older sister at work while he was growing up. While he lacks the fine craftsman's touch his sister developed, he has always had a natural talent at picturing 3D images of objects and engines in his mind, crafting several basic wind-up toys from the spare parts in his father's workshop even when he was a young boy. Very few things excite him as much as discovering a new machine he's never come across, and when he does he will always want to figure out exactly how it works. While he was seemingly always bursting at the seams with energy and wonder while growing up, he has calmed down somewhat over the past year and become more focused and dutiful. This is largely due to his personal quest to unravel the mysteries of Bobby's workings and past.He does hope to eventually return home, but knows he won't be able to do so until he can prove without a doubt that his companion is not a threat to the people of his village.
He was somewhat traumatized by the event that caused him to run away with bobby and to this day refuses to allow either himself or bobby to resort to lethal methods when engaged in confrontation.
As an interesting aside, he seems to be blissfully unaware of his own good looks and, when asked which 'girl he likes', will reply that his older sister is the nicest person he knows, showcasing how he still lacks psychological maturity, and can at times be rather socially dense despite his mechanical genius.
Weapon(s):
Main - Pistols
Marco has 3 clockwork pistols holstered at his sides (two on the right, one on the left) that he uses as his primary weapons in combat that have an effective firing range of up to 20 yards (60ft/18m), keeping them in line with most olden flintlock pistols.
Adhering to Marco's strict non-lethality code, the pistols don't shoot bullets but rather cartridges and blunt slugs designed to shatter on impact. In the case of the slugs this causes severe bruising and minor lacerations from embedded shrapnel, as well as occasionally broken bones depending on the placement of the shot. The pistols have an effective accurate range of up to 20 yards (60ft/18m), keeping them in line with most olden flintlock pistols. The cartridges have a tip casing that is fair deal more fragile than the slugs, because the projectiles are intended as a delivery method, not as the actual attack. The cartridges are loaded with a variety of different chemical ingredients that are released upon the destruction of the projectile, causing a variety of effects depending on which chemicals the cartridges are loaded with. The most popular cartridge types are the 'sleeper' and 'smoker' types. The former is filled with two liquid agents that, upon the shattering of the casing, are mixed together, causing a chemical reaction that releases potent but colourless fumes that act as powerful sedatives to anyone who inhales them, generally knocking them out within a few seconds.
smoker type cartridges are filled with a powdered form of a white phosphorous derivative, mixed with a highly reactive oxidizing agent. When the cartridge fractures, the oxidizing agent activates due to contact with the air, creating heat that ignites the white phosphorus. The end result is a thick and quickly expanding smoke screen being created. (note: it isn't uncommon for macro to, in a pinch, throw one or several smoker cartridges to the ground in order to create an immediate smoke screen, helping him escape a tight spot)
The pistols do not use any form of gunpowder or explosive to propel the loaded projectiles. Instead, the clockwork mechanism releases the internal hammer upon pulling the trigger. The hammer launches the projectile out of the barrel, but lacks the force to send it flying any more than approximately 20ft. It is actually a gelatin priming agent loaded in the back of each cartridge and slug that is primarily responsible for the power behind the projectiles. The impact force of the hammer striking the center of the loaded projectile activates the primer, causing it to quickly deflagrate, releasing highly pressurized gas from the back of the projectile via small holes drilled in the primer's chamber, the result being the projectile being rocket-propelled to its desired velocity at approximately the same instant it leaves the barrel. The result is that the pistol become virtually silent weapons, as the only noise generated from them is the actual mechanism impacting with the loaded projectile (which is comparable to the sound of a stapler) and the sound of the round whizzing through the air (itself not much louder than, say an arrow or crossbow bolt).
The major drawbacks to the pistols are that each shot needs to be loaded individually (Marco has outfitted himself with a belt of slugs and cartridges for exactly this reason, as well as having back up rounds in his backpack) and that the firing mechanism needs to be wound up via a small crank wheel to the side of the guns after each shot, resulting in a 5 second or so reload time in between each shot (hence him carrying multiple pistols on his person. it is a work-around to this low firing rate).
altogether he has about 20 slugs in total, as well as 15 cartridges of each type
Secondary - Explosives
Along with his pistols, Marco always carried a workman's backpack with him that is stocked not only with replacement cartridges and slugs, but also five hand grenades (with a sixth hanging at his left side next to one of his guns). As can be expected from marco, the grenades are not standard ballistic explosives as those tend to be a bit too lethal for his tastes.
Instead, he has specialized the grenades into tactical weapons. Two of the grenades are outfitted with the same internal components as the sleeper and smoker cartridges, only in larger quantities, granting him a one-use augmented effect of the cartridges. (so that's 1 sleeper grenade and 1 smoker grenade)
the remaining 4 grenades are divided into 2 new categories, Stunner and Sticker.
The stunner grenades are, in essence, flashbangs designed to create an incredibly loud explosion paired with a bright light in order to sun and disorient enemies. As an added bonus, the magnesium used in the grenade is heavily ionized, meaning that he grenade has EMP properties as well, enabling the grenades to disable basic mechanical constructs relying on an electric power source for short periods of time (so things like surveillance cameras and simple robots).
Sticker grenades are a bit more complex. They have a shorter effective blast radius than the other grenades, and work by splashing any surrounding enemies with a thick, slimy substance upon detonation. The slime, once it comes into contact with air, starts to dry out immediately, adhering itself to the skin and clothes of the enemies it came into contact with and taking a form similar to rubber within a matter of seconds. Hence the constricting and elastic properties of the slime will greatly reduce the mobility of anyone caught in the blast, and can outright immobilize them if they are covered with enough of the stuff.
In his backpack marco also has a set of basic worksman's tools and some spare parts that he can use to quickly fashion himself trapwire shells. all he needs to do then is set up the wire traps ahead of time and place one of his grenades in the shells, and anyone then activating the wire trap will then be treated to the nearby grenade exploding and subjecting them to whatever effect that grenade type is outfitted with.
The worksman's tools can also be used by Marco to make himself more shells for his pistols if he finds some scrap metal in the field
Abilities/Magic: Marco only has one notable ability, his genius at crafting gadgets, engines, and tools out of metal, especially the clockwork variety. While his designs lack aesthetic polishing and fine intricacy, he is a genius at conceptualizing blueprints in his mind, and then immediately being capable of assembling what it is he wants to craft simply from following the schematics in his head. This ability also grants him a very fine understanding of the internal working of most machines and, while he isn't as talented working with electric circuitry as he is with clockwork and fuel-based engines, he can quickly figure out the workings of nearly any machine he comes across (provided it doesn't run primarily on magic). This allows him to dismantle for parts and/or sabotage nearly any piece o machinery he comes across, should he need it.
Despite his great talent as a craftsman though, macro's work does take time, he can't craft anything in the middle of battle, and crafting usually requires him to find something to use as a workbench. his more complex and useful designs (such as his grenades for example) can only be crafted when he is at school and has all of his equipment on hand.
History: After Bobby and Marco first went on the run, the young man didn't know exactly what they two should do. hey drifted from one island to the next without much purpose, trying to dodge the authorities that would be looking for them so as to avoid being taken back home, but at the same time marco longed to return, to find some way of explaining himself and the actions of his golem companion without them taking bobby away, but deep down he too was afraid of what his friend had done, especially considering bobby did not seem to remember any of it, and couldn't think of any way to prove that it wouldn't happen again.
Marco started trying to fix bobby's prana circuitry again, but as he though the damage done made the pathways an indecipherable mess, and it was slow, trudging, delicate work trying to fix even small sections of the corruption. For 2 months the two wandered like vagabonds, Marco trying to decode more of bobby's programs and data pathways in a futile attempt at understanding more of his friend's workings so as to ensure that he could not be a danger to anyone else.
This was, however, abruptly interrupted when the two came across an exhibit on ancient artifacts and civilizations, marco having snuck inside in hopes that learning about ancient civilizations would reveal more about bobby's past. In a way, he was right.
Some of the pieces in the exhibit bore a mark that bobby recognized as belonging to the ancient enemy he once fought, this triggered the awakening of his HK persona, and the robot went on a cold rampage until all relics were destroyed, even injuring (though thankfully not killing) several of the guards who tried to stop him, and immediately returning to his bobby personality once the task was done.
Marco once again was forced to flee with his companion, but now he had a lead. He knew for certain that specific old relics did hold some key to figuring out bobby's past, and that learning more about them would help him figure out more about the golem in turn. Marco then knew where he had to go, to the single greatest collection of knowledge in the system, Eureka academy.
Managing to forge false identities for himself and for bobby, Marco found a recruitment officer and managed to impress him enough both with his tinkerer's skill and with bobby's design to earn a recommendation from him into eureka.
In following, both Marco and Bobby passed the entrance exams to Eureka, and bobby was placed in Arma sect while macro was set to study in Ultris (though, considering their special relationship, Bobby was permitted to reside in Marco's dorm room in between class periods).
Now in the school, Marco does his best to keep his and bobby's origins as secretive as possible and spends as much time as he can in the library in between classes, reading up on ancient civilizations, hoping to find a clue of bobby's true origins. He's also learned of a professor in Ultris sect who has started creating golems of his own, and is now in the process of trying to apprentice himself to that professor, hoping that his knowledge would also shed some light on bobby's internal workings.
Name: I.D. HK 472-9 (Dirge/Bobby)
Age: Indeterminable (several thousands of years old, also irrelevant.)
Race: Ancient Golem.
Ancient Golems were mechanical constructs very much resembling current, highly advanced robots in function and build, if being entirely different in structure and origin. Golems were powered by prana, an ancient magical energy source that was very much similar in function to the Mana used by magicians today, but could only e harnessed through objects, figures and symbols, rather than beings and chants, resulting in ancient magecraft looking much more like a science than an art form. Ancient Golems' bodies are devoid of several internal structures one would expect to find in a modern robot, such as electrical wiring and internal power source. Instead they were animated by a very complex magical system of data circuits ethereally bound to their physical forms. These Prana Circuits did not necessarily exist within the golem itself, but rather they were akin to magically summoned items bound to a single owner, existing in a space of their own when not manifest within the real world (where they take on the appearance of solid-light projections coming from the visor of the golem). These circuits act as the reserves for the various 'programs' and protocols through which the golem operates and, without them, the golem is little more than a giant metal action figure. This design feature makes them much more durable in battle than a modern robot, as they cannot be rendered inoperable by short-circuitry or by destroying their internal workings (they have none), meaning the only physical way to render them inoperable is to actually destroy their structure beyond reasonable functionality. Similarly, however, their unique composition leaves them much more susceptible to magical attacks than modern robots, as a sufficiently powerful direct magical attack will momentarily disrupt the connection between the golem and their Prana Circuits, causing them to shut down and initiate a lengthy reboot process during which they are completely disabled. Being disconnected from the prana circuits several times or for a lengthy period also runs the risk of having their programs becoming corrupted, causing them to lose access to one or several of their functions and/or memories depending on the severity of the corruption. this can, however, be undone by having their master or a recognized technician manifesting the prana circuits and manually repairing them (a task that has been likened to solving a complex 3D block puzzle). This procedure is somewhat risky for the golem, however, as when the circuits are manifest in reality, they are susceptible to physical or magical damage which could cause them to deconstruct entirely, rendering the golem into nothing more than a lifeless doll. Finding and destroying the glyphs engraved on the golem's body that bind the prana circuits to them will also have the same effect, regardless of whether or not the circuits are manifest.
A golem will run out of prana energy if running at heightened/maximum capacity for too long, if this happens, they will have to power down for a short while while they recharge, converting ambient magical energy into Prana. How long this recharge will take is entirely dependent on how dense the location of the golem is with magical energy
Class: High Combat Capacity Target Elimination Golem (basically a super advanced assassination droid)
Title: Student
Sect Study: Arma - Red (Blue level as Dirge, black Level as HK)
Appearance:
Personality: Bobby is a gentle automaton naturally. Under the tutelage of Marco and his sister Cindy, he strove to learn what it meant to be a 'friend'. He enjoys engaging others into conversation and is incredibly curious, always wishing to acquire new knowledge. Somewhat paradoxical to his true nature, bobby dislikes confrontation and violence (possibly an applied self-preservation protocol to prevent him from endangering himself should his combat capabilities be disabled) and tries to find a peaceful solution to any argument. He is also naturally very compliant with any request made of him, the only exception is requests that would upset, endanger, or go against the orders of Marco, whose word he considers absolute authority (often to comical degrees).
When Bobby activates his combat protocols, his personality undergoes a dramatic change. More than likely, this is what Bobby originally was like before his data files were so heavily corrupted. He looses the innocence and wonder of his normal persona and becomes more like what you would expect of a killing machine. He becomes cold, calculating, impersonal and efficient. Under this effect he prefers to be addressed as 'Dirge' claiming that the name feels familiar to him, more than likely a remnant of his currently corrupted memory files. While his unflinching loyalty to Marco's orders remains, Dirge often seems less pleased with his 'master' than Bobby, and often comments on how the young man's aversion to lethal force is an unnecessary complication. While 'Dirge' possesses all of 'Bobby's memories, the reverse is not true, and bobby will often fail to recollect what has happened during the time in which his combat protocols are active (more than likely a side-effect of his still partially damaged data circuits, related to his corrupted memory files).
It should be noted that while previous to coming to Eureka Bobby would only activate his combat protocols either when Marco ordered it, or when someone directly threatened Marco with imminent physical harm, a remnant protocol of his makes him become aggressive whenever he detects 'the enemy'. This most likely refers to whichever enemy force he was originally programmed to fight against when he was originally created since the protocol is only ever activated whenever he comes upon certain ancient relics (more than likely remnants of the civilization against which he was programmed to fight). When he comes across such a relic, he no longer responds to anyone's orders, including marco's and identifies himself by his original designation of HK 472-9. In this state he will not rest until he has destroyed whatever relic triggered his protocol (as well as whomever happens to be in its possession, as he seems to believe they are 'the enemy'). Once the relic is destroyed, he will return to his 'bobby' persona. As with the Dirge 'transformations' bobby carries no recollection of what just happened after shifting to his HK personality (again though, Dirge seems aware of HK's actions).
Weapon(s): Bobby, in his normal state, cannot access any of his weapons or combat protocols, and thus can only fight using his are hands. As 'Dirge' however he has access to 8 inch, diamond hard, razor sharp hidden blades that can be deployed from/retracted into his forearms and heels, along with a smaller, 2 inch pair that can e extended from his 'toes'. His combat protocols also give him access to several martial arts techniques that were implemented into his programming, making him a much deadlier and more skilled combatant. While he carries no firearms on his person, he has knowledge of how to operate nearly every kind, should he come across one.
Abilities/Magic: Bobby, being a mechanical/magical construct, is several times stronger, faster, and more durable than a regular human (he's been known to catch a cannon ball without flinching), as well as possessing near limitless stamina. He also doesn't require any rest or food. As 'Dirge' He possesses the ability to access his combat protocols and armaments, of which include several hidden weapons, deployable thrusters that enable him to fly/hover/glide for short periods of time, and an active camouflage system that makes him nearly completely invisible (the efficiency of the active camouflage is inversely proportional to his movement speed. The camouflage does not extend to his blades and thrusters, requiring him to deactivate them in order to hide effectively).
History: Bobby as far as he can recall, was originally an assassination golem created by an ancient, highly advanced, unnamed empire that existed on Corinith's southern hemisphere before it gained its current flooded state. This empire was entrenched in a bitter, bloody war with another civilization at the time that resulted in the creations of machines such as him to replace common soldiers on the battlefield. At some unknown point in time, however, Bobby was apparently shut down and locked away inside a large metal container, left to wait out the eons in cold silence, forgotten.
After an unknown amount of millennia passed (long enough for the land to become flooded with water and for all sentient beings to forget that the two great warring civilizations ever existed) Bobby's crate was picked up from the ocean floor by powerful tides and eventually washed ashore of Menschclok island -- a small island that played home to only a small village known for its incredibly talented clock-smiths and craftsmen-- during a violent tsunami. There it was found by a young woman named Cindy who engineered to bring the crate back to her own home, putting it in her father's work-shed. Inside she, with the aid of her younger brother Marco, figured out the mechanical combination required to open the crate, in which they found the non-functioning golem. Cindy quickly likened him to the 'robots' mentioned in some of her father's books, and the two decided to name him 'Bobby' as such.
The children's initial attempts at waking him up ended in failure as the 'robot' refused to budge or respond to anything they did. That is, until Marco spotted a familiar looking sigil on the back of Bobby's head and, in following, presented the robot with a medallion he had inherited from his father: a clockmaker by trade and tinkerer by hobby who was often away visiting other islands in order to craft and repair various items for wealthy customers. Upon being presented with the medallion (which had the same sigil engraved upon it) the golem finally activated. However, the eons spent inactive and at the bottom of the ocean completely wrecked his magical circuitry, corrupting all but his most basic start-up files and programs. Marco eventually discovered that by touching the sigil on the back of Bobby's head he could cause the golem to project a holographic display of his internal networking (only Marco could do this because, as the golem would later reveal, Bobby's ownership files were also corrupted and thus inaccessible when he first awoke, causing him to identify Marco as his 'master' since he was the one holding the medallion). Of course, neither of the two children knew what these were at the time, and were instead imply baffled that a machine was projecting what appeared to be solid light that they could interact with.
Eventually they guessed that these projections were some sort of ancient 'puzzle' that they had to solve and got to work rearranging the light constructs in ways that seemed more organized, inadvertently repairing some of the damage and corruption made to Bobby's circuitry through sheer trial and error. Eventually they granted the Golem access to his movement protocols, allowing the artificial being to move around freely. Once that had been accomplished, they realized that solving one section of the 'puzzle' seemed to unlock more (in truth, as some data pathways were repaired, more clusters were the reachable and available for repair as well, granting access to more protocols and programs). As a result, they in following unlocked bobby's audio communication programs, which allowed bobby to start making sounds. However working through this one was a hard and gradual process since initially the golem could only create certain sound effects, and could only communicate via sequences of chirps, chirrs, whistles and beeps vaguely indicating emotion and intention. Additionally, even when he had full access to his communication programs, he still was only capable of speaking in the language of his original creators, and had to gradually replace words from his original language with the terms he learned in his new master's tongue.
It took no less than three years from the time Bobby was discovered before he was capable of communicating with Cindy, Marco, their father, and the rest of the townsfolk fluently(The townsfolk having quickly summarized that they could put him to good work due to his incredible strength and endless stamina). It was at this point that Bobby asked Marco what his Designation was, as he'd forgotten the purpose for which he was originally created. Marco, 13 years of age at the time, could not answer Bobby because he had no idea what his original creators could have designed him for. However, he claimed that Bobby was and always would be his closest friend. Bobby interpreted this as the assignment of a new directive, and accepted the command, his primary function from that point on would be to be 'Marco's Friend'. It was this moment that gave birth to Bobby's curiosity as to what being a 'friend' entailed exactly and even today, while he's gotten the general implications of the term, seeks to find out what the 'true meaning' of friendship is.
It was not until a year later that the alternate personae of Dirge would be discovered. Men hired by a certain rival of the children's father broke into the workshop in an attempt to steal recent designs of his before being discovered by the two siblings. It is important to note that, at the time, Marco had stopped working on fixing Bobby's data pathways for some time as he had repaired a data cluster, but to his surprise and dismay no new protocols or programs were unlocked, the cluster laying dormant despite its state of repair. As if this was not enough, the data pathways that were subsequently opened were several times more severely corrupted than any Marco had to deal with before, and neither him nor his sister thought themselves capable of repairing them.
When the two discovered the intruders, they attempted to chase them away, but were quickly overpowered by the older and stronger men. Bobby, who had been elsewhere in the house at the time, was drawn to the commotion and arrived onto the scene just as one man pulled out a knife, his leader having just ordered him to 'eliminate the witnesses'.
The dormant cluster suddenly activated, granting Bobby access not only to his combat protocols, but also the 'killer instinct' he had been originally programmed with, giving birth to the persona that would eventually come to be known as Dirge (it was later postulated by Dirge that the reason the data cluster had remained inactive until that time was because bobby's primary directive had been changed. Seeing as he was now 'Marco's Friend' and not a 'High Combat Capacity Target Elimination Golem', he had no need for his combat protocols and kept them locked down until his master was under direct threat from an enemy).
It took no more than an instant for Dirge to then dash forward and, deploying one of his arm blades, cut the attacker down. This resulted in the leader of the thieves pulling out a pistol, marking him as a threat and causing Dirge to close the distance between himself and the man and cut off his arm before he could pull the trigger. He was about to finish the job until Marco yelled out for him to stop. Incapable of disobeying a direct command, Dirge halted his blade and reluctantly spared the attacker's life. The now one-armed bandit quickly made his escape in following, screaming to anyone who could hear for help.
At that moment Marco knew that the authorities would be coming to investigate. He also realized that it would not matter that the infiltrators had started the fight, Bobby had revealed himself to be a fully capable and very literal killing machine, and he would either be destroyed or locked away somewhere as a result. Not wishing to lose his dearest and closest friend, Marco made the decision to run away into the night. Making his goodbyes with his elder sister, he ordered bobby to take him in his arms and run away as fast and far as possible (knowing full well that they would get away much more easily by relying on bobby's great speed and strength).
Complying obediently, dirge took Marco in his arms and made his own farewells (if, albeit cold ones) to Cindy before exiting the workshop and running away as fast as he could without hurting his master, not only leaving the town, but even running onto the inter-island train tracks and leaving Menschclok behind entirely.
A year has passed since the incident now, and both Marco and Bobby are still on the run from the authorities. Marco now has decided that he is going to unravel the mystery behind his friend's past and his lost memories, and thus decided to take the steps to enroll both himself and bobby as students at Eureka; both as a means to hide from his island's authorities, and because he hoped that studying at Eureka might teach him the secrets to fixing more of Bobby's internal circuitry. He also hopes that there he will be capable of finding more information on the ancient relics that seem to be the keys to unlocking the secrets of bobby's past.
Bobby, on his end, simply hopes to provide Marco with as much comfort and care as possible, and lives every day following his prime directive: being as good a friend to marco as possible. Made aware of his drastic personality changes, he studies at eureka as an arma student in the hopes of learning to control his body and its abilities, without relying on the violent secondary personalities he has developed.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Loa: powerful spirits, sometimes referred to as gods or angels, who serve as arbitors between the spiritual and mortal realms. Their duty is to ensure that balance is maintained on both sides of the veil no matter the cost. While they have no 'right to rule', their great powers ensure that they are feared and respected both by the dead, and by the few living who know of them. They exist in opposition to Ashura, but cannot fight them directly, hence why they recruit Puppeteers into their service.
Ashura: sometimes refered to as 'mad gods', Ashura are corrupted Loa who seek to destroy the balance keeping the spirit world and mortal world separate. It was through their design that the first demons were created, and thus all demons can be considered an extension of the influence of Ashura, making them untouchable to Loa. Just as Loa are not necessarily good, Ashura are not necessarily evil. They are simply the force of chaos that contrasts the order maintained by the Loa.
Puppeteers: Spiritualist mortals of all kinds (shamans, necromancers, onmyouji, witch doctors, to name a few) who have entered into the service of the Loa. They are tasked with fighting the influence of the Ashura in the mortal realm, primarily by hunting down their demon spawn, as well as any practitioners of demon magic. Undying, they all had their souls taken in contract by the Loa upon entering their service, and as a result are now effectively immortal. Their pact with the Loa has granted them a portion of the Loa's powers, as well as a doll, a partner from teh other side of the veil that also serves as the main weapon of the Puppeteers, granting them the ability to exorcise demons and purify corrupted souls. When their service has reached its end, the puppeteers will be given back their souls and granted final rest. The conditions of servitude vary from puppeteer to puppeteer
Dolls: Spirits of the deceased with strong attachments to the mortal world. Each doll had one great regret that haunted them even after they passed on, making them wish to return to life. The Loa took these spirits and brought them into their service under a contract. The spirits would have the memory of their great regret taken from them (but not the emotions surrounding that regret) Dolls would serve as a puppeteer's weapon until the puppeteer's service was at an end. In return, once the task was complete, the doll would be returned to the world of the living, taking their puppeteer's place, free to have a second shot at life.
Crowne 72: The largest group of demonologists in the world. The Crowne only have 72 official members, each one having entered into a pact with a specific demon, but each member him or herself has anywhere from two to a dozen to several hundred adepts underneath them who serve the member in return for being able to use their partnered demon's magic. The group is more of a 'club' than a coherent organization, they are bound together by a few core rules and shared resources, but not necessarily by any overarching ideals. Because of this, it is quite common for members to have opposing goals and develop bitter rivalries, but one way or another the group itself remains a powerful entity that is currently the largest threat to the balance between worlds. As such, they and the puppeteers often find themselves at each other's throats.
Demons: Children of the Ashura, it is said that the first demons were created by twisting the souls of humans into monstrous entities suffering eternal torture, but even the oldest demons alive today could not say whether this is true or not. What is true, however, is that they swear no loyalty to the Ashura or to one another. They are eternal creatures with will that seem almost incomprehensible to mortals, and they have a tendency to see mortals either a pawns or as food. Indeed, they must consume the souls of mortals to sustain themselves, and as a result their mere existence brings unbalance to the world. The vast majority of demons inhabit a world called the 'nether realm', a dream-like world that exists 'within the veil', that is to say: somewhere in between the world of the mortals and the world of spirits. Usually speaking they are incapable of crossing into either world through the vigilance of the Loa, but by making pacts with humans they can sneak into the mortal realm where they are free to consume any souls they come across. The magic that they use is similar to the powers of the loa and ashura, but usually not as strong. It does, however have the unfortunate property of causing holes in the veil that separates worlds when concentrated too highly, making any human 'blessed' with their powers a threat to the balance whether or not they are directly contracted o the demon, or simply serving as its vassals (the adepts of the Crowne 72 are examples of such vassals). Demons, like their Ashura parents, are not evil by necessity, but very rare are the instances where their existence is beneficial to the lives of mortals.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Name: Professor Daniel Warrwick Peace, AKA 'Peacemaker' ( though he prefers to be referred to as Professor Peacemaker. Reference how this makes him sound like a comic book supervision at your own risk.)
Age: 43, though he seems to have physically stopped aging sometime around his late 20s
Race: Metahuman (anatomically perfectly human, but he's undergone substantial if not overly apparent genetic mutation thanks to his experiments)
Class: Alchemist - Peacemaker actually can't perform any 'real' alchemy as he's never studied symbology, or the science of transmutation. His powers just give him the ability to break down any non-magical, non-living matter and then reform that matter however he wishes. In his words, his abilities are a 'perfect alchemy that transcends the need for preparation of alchemical symbols or magical energy supply'. Ignoring, of course, the fact that regular alchemy can affect organic matter while he cannot.
Title: Sect Master
Sect Study: Ultris
Appearance:
It should be noted though that hhe is always surrounded by a 'haze' which is, in reality, the individual particles of hundreds of materials he has broken down and keeps in suspension around him. He is also usually wearing a lab coat. His blond hair is actually a wig, or rather, a form of plantlife that he created that looks exactly like blond hair, grows at about the same speed, and that he wears like a wig. The nature of his powers makes him unable to grow hair or fingernails. or maybe that;s just a side-effect of his self-experimentation, who knows anymore?
Personality: Peacemaker, in short, is a mad genius living in his own deluded version of reality. The annoying thing with mad geniuses being that when reality conflicts with their fantasy, their typical reaction is "I know just how to fix that" and they aren't talking about their delusions. Peacemaker is no exception. He's always working on some insane project or another and trying to push the limits of science, magic, physics, reality, his own body or whatever other 'arbitrary' limitations are placed before his 'genius, unparalleled mind'. Doubtless to say he is also quite egotistical and selfish. He took the job of sect master mostly only because it granted him near limitless resources, but is smart enough to handle all of its duties in a timely and professional manner first and foremost, if for no other reason than because he is smart enough (duh) to know that if he 'goofs off' too much that he'll lose the job and all the freedom it grants him to continue his research. Students to him are little more than potential lab rats, but can appreciate when he sees the same thirst for knowledge in them that he himself possesses. Lately he has been pushing for the addition of a fifth sect centered around technology and science, as he feels that ultris should be reserved for the meta students with natural powers and abilities that wouldn't let them fit in arma, magis, or dominus (like the ones who can shoot lasers from their hands, or turn into smoke). Needless to say, the fact that he hasn't been getting much headway with this request has made him severely annoyed, as he tends to be when others do not listen to his 'obvious and incomparable genius'.
Weapon(s): Peacemaker's abilities and vast intellect allow him to materialize nearly anything he desires in order o suit his current situation. Due to his memorization of the blueprints of several complex machines (many of which having been of his own design to begin with) he is not limited to materializing only simple objects either. If he wanted he could make a fully functioning car for himself as long as he knew to put each individual nut and bolt in its proper place (which he most certainly does). Some of his trademarks are cybernetic armor for his arms, thruster packs, floating drones to assist in a variety of tasks, robot duplicates of himself, and a wide variety of plasma or energy-based firearms. Again though, he adapts to whatever situation he is in.
Abilities/Magic:
Eidetic Memory - The only ability peacemaker was actually born with. His brain works on a level that is usually unheard of in humans and he has the ability to perfectly and permanently memorize, categorize, and recall any information it records. This goes beyond simply recalling facts and data, and allows him to perfectly relive any of his memories exactly as they have occurred, independent of later alteration via additional memories or emotions. Should he be asked to recall the date of a certain event in history, he will not simply remember the number asked of him, but even recall the very moment where he first read the date of said conflict in a history book, and then tell you about any minute detail about the page on which that information was contained. His brain has previously been compared to a WORM (write once read many) data storage container, due o the 'perfect' and unaltered state his memories are kept in, but this is unfaithful as he can freely 'delete' any information that he considers unnecessary whenever he so chooses, so as to not let his genius be 'polluted' by misinformation that he would never be otherwise allowed to forget.
Unlimited Microadaptive Physiology - The first and, arguably, most important of the genetic modifications he has made to his body. While his larger anatomy is undisputedly human (he possesses all the required organs and no extras) on a cellular level he is something else entirely. Each individual cell of his has the ability to regress to a state much resembling a stem cell, and then completely change its designation and composition so as to survive whatever environment it is put in. His body instinctively coordinates all these shifter cells so that no amount of exposure to any lethal substance or environment will kill him. This doesn't mean he is immortal of course, he will still die (after enough time has passed) from things like decapitations, severe injury to the brain, removal of the heart, or extensive bodily deconstruction. However, he is effectively immune to any disease, poison or radiation he encounters, can survive in an environment where the heat is anything above absolute zero, he can survive any amount of heat that will not completely obliterate organic matter. He can adapt his cells to a low-energy mode and gather energy from other sources such as light and heat shoudl he ever be in an environment without oxygen, this does not allow him to survive in no-oxygen environments indefinitely (this would require him to develop entirely new organs, which is beyond the limits of his body's adaptability), but does allow him to survive them and retain mobility for an extended period of time. should he need to, he can enter a deep hibernation-like state in which his cells in his body will degrade to the lowest energy consumption from possible which will allow him to survive an area completely devoid of oxygen or any alternative from of energy for several years, though he will not be aware of anything going on around him in this state as he will essentially be turning into something akin to a plant.
Needless to say, this high level of cellular adaptability also makes healing from physical wounds an easy feat for his body. This is also considered to be the primary cause of his agelessness. The cells allowed his body to age until he reached his physical peak, and then kept him at that peak, explaining why he does not seem to have aged beyond his late twenties despite being well into his forties. Time will tell whether this has granted him functional immortality, but the current theoretical consensus is that it has.
Limited Molecular Deconstruction and Reassembly (AKA 'perfect' alchemy) - Likely Peacemaker's 'signature' power, he first came across it when he studied the Iwagom, a sluggish plantiform creature that inhabits Eritainian caverns. The creature possessed no digestive tract to speak of, and was originally theorized to survive through the absorption of small minerals and nutrients through its skin, but was discovered by Peacemaker to actually be capable of emitting electromagnetic signals from small nodes in their hands that could be used to destroy the bonds between molecules and weakly bonded groups of atoms. The Iwagom used this ability to erode away the surfaces of the caves they lived in by 'vaporizing' them and then inhaling the residue, their highly specialized filtration organs separating the individual molecules and atoms and incorporating the necessary nutrients and minerals into their bodies before they exhaled the refuse.
Tinkering with Iwagom genetic samples, Peacemaker was able to figure out how to modify his adaptive cells to each hold a microscopic node similar to those fond protruding from the flesh of the plantiforms. His, however, were a fair degree more genetically advanced and specialized than those of the Iwagom. Their small size made their individual output nearly nonexistent compared to the natural nodes, but the incredible number of nodes that Peacemaker has (approximately 37 trillion cells in a human body) allows him to deconstruct nearly any matter within instants (the Iwagom would have taken several seconds to completely 'vaporize' a small pebble). He has also modified the nodes to work as a grid rather than individual transmitters, allowing him to create more refined energy fields which can not only deconstruct matter, but also reassemble it according to his will.
The only limitations of his powers is that powerful counter-currents will act as a barrier to his ability to dematerialize substances. This means that he cannot dematerialize things animated by lifeforce, which is to mean living organic substance. He could tear down an entire house in an instant, wooden beams and all, but couldn't destroy even a single blade of grass if it was still alive. Similarly, things that are enchanted with magic or are sustained by magical circuitry are much more difficult for him to 'eat' through and a strong enough magical current or enchantment will block his ability completely the same as lifeforce will. Needless to say, his power has no effect on objects or being created entirely from energy, be it electrical, magical, spiritual, or otherwise.
anything that is non-living and non-magical though is fair game, including hair and nails, which is why he has found himself incapable of growing either ever since performing the modification on himself. The usage of the ability, also, understandably requires a fair bit of energy, thus peacemaker has been found to eat and drink in much greater volumes since the procedure.
The ability makes it impossible to receive cybernetic implants since any synthetic material begins to slowly erode away as soon as it is introduced in his body due to the small amount of energy constantly being given off by his cells even when not in use. He's found that this small factor also makes his clothes wear out more quickly.
Enhanced Body - Peacemaker's regular genetic modifications to his body have endowed him with several attributes that go beyond human limits, such as more durable frame, greater well of stamina, and a much higher power output from his muscles. This being said, when compared to other species and beings that walk Eureka's halls, Peacemaker's physical attributes are not anything too out of the ordinary. His alchemy allows him to construct whatever tool he needs to manage any given situation, while his intellect allows him to nearly always figure out what the best tool required for a certain job is, so he has not felt the need to mess with his anatomy in any great way. The vast majority of his modifications have been superficial, aesthetic, and hardly noticeable by anyone but him.
History: (Self-Explanatory. Try for at least three paragraphs here.)
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Physical: Physical type gods will focus on granting their vessels boosts to their physical stats such as speed, strength, and stamina, well as weapon skills. They are generally the most straightforward gods who will grant favor easily, however the amounts they grant are usually much smaller in comparison, requiring their vessels to prove themselves several times before granting them much power. The source of power of physical type vassals is Rage. Rage begins at 0 and increases as the vassal trades blows with their enemy (whether attacking or defending generates more Rage depends on which god the vassal is partnered with) and can be spent to unleash punishing techniques on the Vassal's opponent, often allowing them to either finish off an opponent for good, or suddenly turn the tides of battle to their favor if the enemy started out with the upper hand. However if more rage is not accumulated for too long the Vassals's already accumulated rage will begin to decrease over time, limiting the window of time wherein the vassal can use their strongest techniques. Physical type vassals will usually try to end the battle quickly before their opponents can pull any tricks out from under their sleeves
Magical: Magical type gods are the polar opposites of physical type gods and provide little in the ways of physical enhancements to their Vassals, instead endowing them with access to several magical abilities or sometimes increasing their vassal's already present magical capabilities. The requirements for obtaining favor from magical gods are typically the most complex, often involving completing complex rituals of some sort, but conversely offering the most favor as well, sometimes allowing their vassals to use their Divinity after favor has only been granted once. The source of power for magical type vassals is Mana, magical energy that allows the vassals to cast their spells. Magical types begin a battle with 0 Mana, however it will slowly be accumulated over time. A vassal can increase the rate at which their Mana increases by meditating or chanting but the focus this requires will leave them open to attacks if they are found by an enemy in this time. Because magical vassals are usually the most physically weak type they generally do poorly in head-on confrontations with the other types and must rely heavily on their magic in battle. In return for this, the techniques they can use by spending Mana are the most varied, suiting both offensive and defensive capabilities and, at their higher echelons, can easily be the most destructive. Because of this a Magical vassal will usually try to make a battle drag on so they can gather enough power to play their trump cards.
Spiritual: Spiritual type gods are often considered the middle ground between the physical and magical variants. The methods of gaining favor diverge wildly from god to god, often seeming much more personalized to the gods in question, making it difficult to assess which strategy one should take when combating a spiritual type. The source of power for spiritual vassals is Focus. Spiritual Vassals will begin a battle with a set amount of focus already at their disposal which will neither increase nor decrease as time passes and it is unused. Focus can be increased by either engaging in combat or by meditating, however unlike rage receiving damage will almost always decrease focus, and a Spiritualist's meditation is not as efficient as a Magician's. Techniques that require Focus almost always revolve around empowering the vassal's own body in some way or another in order to give them an unexpected edge in battle, adding to the versatility of the type which can make them unpredictable opponents. Whereas Focus techniques are not generally as impressive or tide-changing as Rage and Mana techniques, it should be noted that high-end Focus techniques are the only non-Divinity abilities that have been seen to cause their users to ascend to a more powerful form.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Name: Dafeng Chunji
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Hails from: Air Temples
Bender: Air
Appearance:
Background: Daefeng had always been a very rowdy and rebellious young boy. Something of an air bending prodigy, he far outclassed his peers when it came to mastering his chi, but lacked any interest in the lessons of meditation and spirituality. The way he saw it, all the instructors' talks of being at one with oneself and achieving peace of mind were only tools used by normal people to get a batter handle on their chi, he was already great at it so he didn't need to wast his time on those things. He would sneak out by himself often to amuse himself with bending,flying around on spheres of wind that could zip around entire court yards, taking to the skies with his glider to perform gravity defying tricks. He especially liked using his abilities to pull pranks on the other air nomads such as directing precise and small gusts to blow out random candles a monk was lighting on the other side of the room, seeing how long he can amuse himself before they realize what is happening. He wasn't afraid to target more than one person at once either, often doing things such as dispersing a cloud of pepper in the air above a meditation group, directing the flakes into their nostrils and laughing as the group erupts in a flurry of sneezes.
Many of the elders demanded the youth be subjected to harsher disciplining so he become more serious and respectful, but one Monk Taiyang suggested that perhaps the problem was that the young Daefeng did not feel challenged with his current curriculum, and that perhaps he could focus the creativity he displays in his acts of rebellion towards a more constructive cause. At first they introduced him to sand painting, showing how the monks would spend hours in silence, pouring and shaping different colored sand on the marble floor to create breath taking portraits. He found the whole thing boring, bland, and ended up using his bending to draw up a crude self-portrait within a matter of minutes. The elders grew angry again but Taiyang had one more idea. He introduced the young prodigy to something that his bending couldn't help him with. Taiyang had happened to be quite fond of the Sitar when he was younger and had p even formed a band with some other monks of his age that had regularly entertained the nomads with their performances. He played one of his older tunes for the young boy and was pleased to find that Daefeng was interested in the musical style. It was more energetic and faster paced than the other music he had been exposed to because Taiyang band had taken some of its musical influence from earth nation drummers performing at a festival. They'd called the style 'boulder music' in honor of this influence, and also because it was so much 'bolder' than other styles.
As the old monk had expected, Daefeng's energetic personality found the sounds very entertaining and wished to learn how to play as well. Taiyang warned the boy that his chi control wouldn't help him here and that learning to play the sitar would be a long and arduous task even for a clever boy like him. Predictably Deafening only became more determined to learn upon hearing this, wanting to prove that he could do anything easily. Taiyang agreed to teach him, and the two started having daily lessons. As the elder monk said, learning to play the chords of the instrument was an entirely different skillset than bending required, and it was slow work for Daefung to learn all his proper finger placements and play even the simplest tunes, but he would not be deterred, and as everyone had hoped the young man's pranking and rebellious nature subsided with his growing interest in the musical arts.
After two years passed, however, Daefeng had made an interesting discovery. After learning to play any song he wanted on the sitar, the young man had moved on to learn to play other instruments and was now in the process of learning to play the flute. Moving from a string to a wind instrument meant starting over from scratch again and Daefeng had finally gotten Taiyang to swallow his words and admit that Daefeng had done a much better job of learning to play the sitar in two years (thought not without effort) than the old monk had in five when he'd begun. Fumbling with his notes on the flute while he was still struggling with the instrument frustrated the impatient young teenager and at one point he used his air bending to blow into the instrument as hard as he could, immediately regretting it when the high pitched squeal that came from the flute. He had expected it to be loud of course, but the pitch had been completely off from what he'd expected. It then struck him that since he was using his bending to affect the air passing through the flute, it only made sense that the sound coming from inside would be altered too. Taiyang's old words came to Daefeng's mind, his warning about bending not being able to help him cheat at music, and Daefeng suddenly became very serious about his musical training. He studied harder and was more focused about learning to play the flute properly, then, once he'd become experienced at that, began incorporating his air bending into the playing. He experimented with altering the airflow in specific ways, feeling the sound pass through the air he was manipulating and making it come out of the instrument different than what it was supposed to.
He practiced this in secret for a year without telling anyone, finding hidden places in the temples where no one would hear him. Then, on his fifteenth birthday, he said he wanted to treat everyone to a musical performance to show them how good he had gotten with his flute. He confused everyone, however, when he stood in front of them, blew into his flute, and played the sitar for them. Which isn't to say that he grew an extra pair of arms and played the sitar simultaneously to the flute, or played the notes to one of the songs he learned on the sitar using his flute. While he was blowing into one instrument, the noise that was produced sounded exactly like that of another. At first everyone assumed this was just another one of his plans and that he'd gotten a collaborator to hide nearby and play the sitar while he pretended to use his flute, but Daefeng quickly explained that he was in fact sound bending (he has clued in about three months into his training that bending the sound itself was a lot more efficient than bending the air it passed through, and had trained the rest of the following year teaching himself to do exactly that and make his flute sound like his sitar). To prove it he placed his lips to the instrument again and this time did actually play the flute, but went though a whole piece without moving his fingers once.
He had expected everyone to be amazed at his genius, but while some of the younger nomads were genuinely impressed, most of the elders and monks met the reveal with derision, chastising Daefeng for not taking his training seriously and making a mockery of air bending by learning how to make silly noises with his flute instead of pursuing greater spiritual maturity and applying his bending talent to mastery of the actual craft. It was apparent that now that he was no longer ten, the elders weren't satisfied with him just being distracted enough to not cause trouble anymore. They had wanted him to start 'living up to his potential' since he had been blessed with such gifts and Daefung, deeply vexed at their reaction to his incredible discovery, began doing exactly that.
Despite Taiyang's attempts to meditate and his personal confidence in Daefung that he believed sound bending to be an incredible discovery, Daefung was a young teen angry at society and his appreciation and affection for his old mentor wasn't going to be enough to outweigh his desire for retribution. The pranks started again and now they were more elaborate. Daefung continued to hone his sound bending to make it more and more intricate, learning to disorient pursuers with music, throw his voice and sounds coming from him to make them seem to come from elsewhere, envelop himself in an aura of silence to move by undetected, and more in conjunction with his creativity and bending abilities to regularly torment the stodgy old elders but rarely get caught in the process.
Things came to an end when a year later Taiyang fell ill. The old music lover's age was finally catching up with him, and in the following months his health slowly deteriorated. Daefung had spent most of his time tending to the old man's needs since he had no family to look after him and felt he owed a debt of friendship to him. He had been by the man's bedside to hear his last request. The old monk had no fear of death but did wish for Daefung to make peace with the rest of the nomads and the elders so he could live a happy life rather than continue on his path and eventually become hated by his own people.
On Taiyang's passing the then sixteen year old Daefeng honored the man by making a formal apology to the elders for every prank he'd ever pulled on them (he listed them off in order). However after his friend's funeral rites the young man also announced his departure. Daefung felt nothing tying him to the nomads now that his mentor was passed, and Taiyang had also asked him to live a happy life, he would go find his happiness somewhere else in the world.
As with any wanderer who leaves home without having any real destination, republic city seemed as good as any destination for him to go learn new things and meet new people, so the young nomad made his way there, changed his clothes, and stopped shaving his hair. In the three years since then Daefung's established republic city as his home base but never sticks around too long. He makes his money both by playing instruments in the street for passers by (he only left home with his flute and sitar but purchased or acquired more once he got settled in the city) and also by engaging in various cons. He rarely ever gets caught because he only sticks around to gather enough case for his next trip before skipping town and going out to see other parts of the world, but living in his part of republic city: if you don't go find trouble it usually comes to you instead. So in these three years he's learned to defend himself with his bending for the instances where running isn't always an option. He's found that if you compress enough sound and release it all in one direction, it can make for a very effective shock wave that can knock others back (especially if you throw some traditional air-bending into the mix) as well as disorient them (more effective if just done with sound bending).
notes: last name and first name mean 'spring' and 'gale' respectively.
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Name: Yin Fu-ma
Age: 73
Gender: Male
Hails from: Earth Kingdom
Embodiment: Fire
Appearance:
(It is through the mastery of his inner chi control that he has retained such a youthful appearance despite his old age)
Background: Yin was born from the marriage of prince Fu Mao of the earth kingdom and princess Ma Himei of the the fire nation, a political union between the two kingdoms in an attempt to foster good faith, as neither were heir apparent to their respective kingdoms. As such, while technically of royal blood, Yin was so far down the inheritance line that people didn't pay much attention to him beyond treating him like any other noble child, nor was much more expected of him. That is, of course, until it was discovered that he was a fire embodiment at the age of 12. This was discovered when he was witnessing an earth bending duel that had dragged on into the late evening and a launched boulder landed close to the guarded pavilion from which his family was watching the event, causing a lit torch to topple over and set the delicate fabrics of the young prince's robes on fire. The fire spread quickly and had eaten through all of Yin's left sleeve and a portion of his collar by the time they managed to put it out. To everyone's surprise, however, yin was completely unharmed; his hair wasn't even singed. The flame had refused to consume him. This news was met with mixed reactions.
Fire embodiments were arguably the hardest kind to detect because many of them did not know they were embodiments themselves if they did not come from a family strong in them. Earth embodiments were basically born with markings that showed where their skin woulds start turning into stone once they reached puberty. Yin had heard that Air embodiments could turn invisible from the time they were children and actually had to learn how to not do it on impulse in reaction to their emotional states and stay visible by will. Water embodiments didn't have any visible features that set them apart when not using their powers, but they usually discovered their powers naturally during adolescence, same as water benders, so they ran the risk of exposing themselves. Fire Embodiments were immune from the touch of fire since birth, but people generally tended to keep their babies away from fire anyways, so unless you wanted your kid to be an embodiment, there wasn't really a reason to test it out. And unlike water embodiments, fire embodiments could go for most of their lives without discovering their powers since the very first transformation required a strong and often negative emotional trigger. Unless someone was put into a near-death situation, suffered a terrible and sudden loss, or was consumed by rage, they usually wouldn't be able to turn their body into flames for the first time.
His father found the whole thing quite intriguing, as he'd personally never met a fire embodiment before, but his mother showed clear reservations about the subject and had a hard time staring her son in the eyes. At first Yin was terrified, fearful that his family may disown him for being abnormal, but it was eventually decided that this would be a good thing. That there was nothing wrong with having a child who couldn't be hurt with fire since that was one less thing to worry about, and that since he couldn't ignite anyways he wasn't a danger and so no one would have to find out.
So for the next three years Yin did exactly as told. Lived his life normally and hid the truth about what happened that day to everyone around him. This would all be changed, however, when one of his cousins from his mother's side came to live at his family's mansion for a summer. His family had wanted him to 'experience different cultures' and had thus arranged for him to spend the better part of a year living in the different countries while the international tensions were still low enough for this to be possible (what with the cease fire agreement of the current avatar and exemplar seemingly coming to an end soon, and the peace that had been granted to the 4 nations for the last few decades with it ). His cousin Hoji was himself a promising young fire bender and a typical hotshot character that has always been common in strong fire nation youths.
When the two would be around each other, Hoji would often brag about his fire bending abilities and tease Yin about not being able to bend, claiming that even if he could: that throwing rocks would never be as cool as making fire shoot from your hands. Yin, not being the confrontational type, had tried to simply ignore his cousin for the most part, but since they were the only two in the palace of their age group they found themselves having no one but each other for company many times. Eventually the young man's patience ran out and he challenged his cousin to a no-bending wrestling match, claiming that 'a real man and soldier should be able to do more than just hide behind a wall of fire'. Hoji, having been trained since youth in martial arts as an alongside to his fire bending training was confident he would be able to win even without using his flames and accepted. What he hadn't considered, however, was that Yin was the son of an earth nation prince. It had been expected of him to learn how to defend himself in hand to hand combat even if he wasn't a bender, and unlike Hoji he didn't have to split his training between fighting and bending. Yin won the first match, Hoji challenged him to a rematch, claiming he;d gone easy, and proceeded to win as well. After a heated and exhausting tie breaker match, however, it was Yin who came out victorious. Hoji, letting his frustration get the better of him after having lost, blasted yin with some of his fire, not enough to cause permanent damage or scarring, but enough to singe him in an ill-thought-out attempt at establishing dominance again. It was then to his great surprise that he found out his cousin's secret and saw that his body wouldn't burn. It was to Yin's great surprise when Hoji reacted with joyful excitement, and then a quick apology for having tried to burn him, but then more excitement at the 'super blazing' fact that Yin had a fire-proof body, relating how the most annoying part of his fire bending training was that he always had to be careful not to burn himself.
Almost instantly and to yin's mild confusion the mild enmity that had been maintained by the two cousins was turned into a budding friendship as he had managed to earn Hoji's respect both or his fighting skills and for his fireproof skin.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
In this roleplay we will be playing as champion disciples at the Aios Atlantean Divine Martial Academy (AADMA for short), humans who have partnered with a god or otherwise divine spirit and have come to the academy to learn how to fight Champions, mortals who embody the powers of god in the physical realm. The reason humans and deities are collaborating like this is due to a previous catastrophic incident (that is elaborated on in the Lore section) that almost led to the destruction of both the moral and divine realms, and they are now training their forces to avoid a second, greater calamity on the horizon. Under the tutelage of the Atlantean gods -an ancient pantheon of predating all that currently exist whose gods have ascended to beings of pure energy- our pairs of gods and their mortal champions will compete with each other at this battle academy, the student body divided into five different houses each embracing a different aspect of warfare. The competitions between these houses will be the main and central focus of the rp. This is exclusively a battle academy, we won't be learning any ABCs here (though i will make sure to leave some time in between the action for character development and relations obviously). Also just because it's an 'academy' don't think your character has to be a teenager. The gods pair themselves up with whichever champion best suits them, not who would look best in a bishonen lineup lol. Though, of course, if you choose to have a really really old champion, you'll have to explain why someone of that age would be desirable in fighting against the oncoming threat as a Champion despite their advanced age.
The two main inspirations for this roleplay have been the MOBA game Smite, and the anime Kill la Kill(though thankfully not for its fashion sense lol). For any of you who may not have watched Kill la Kill: it's made by the same guys as Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, that should tell you everything you need to know. What is should be known first and foremost about this rp is that I want it to have a huge scope. Anyoen who has played Smite will know what i say when i tell you that while the game is perfectly enjoyable as a MOBA, never once does the game really make you feel like a fierce deity locked in a cosmic war between gods. Hell the game constantly reminds you that you;re not even the biggest and baddest thing on your own team since you consonantly have to protect your titan, an being looking far more cosmic and divine/apocalyptic than yourself (that hits harder and is much bigger too). What i'm aiming for is to have a setting that brings the high octane insanity of KlK's honnouji academy and transplants it in a divine battle to make an RP where we really feel like we're controlling (in our cases) demi-gods. Of course we won; be throwing mountains and raising oceans at each other in every post, i don;t want this to be 'god mode: the rp', but our characters will be fighting at a level where you can expect the rules of physics to be often bent/broken during conflicts pretty much just for rule of cool. If you've been having an itch to go all out with a crazy idea recently, this rp is the place to put it in motion.
Plot
Lore
First Book
-The Unbegining
Never was there a beginning, nor will there ever be an end, but at a point in existence there was a time before Time had yet to be created. At this point all that there was and all that there ever would be was eternity, the infinite possibility for all hat could and could not be. This vast sea of nothing yet everything was the natural state of reality, possibilities for innumerable universes simultaneously being born and dying all within, creation hanging on the cusp of coming into being. This state was shattered with the birth of the first thought Penso. The first thought that ever occurred in the sea of eternity was 'I am'. How it ever occurred to begin with is a mystery, and it is often agreed to simply have been a fluke (and therefore an inevitability) of the then ever changing and randomizing state that was non-reality in the sea of eternity, but the birth of Penso set off a chain reaction that would lead to the undoing of the yet undone.
For those first fractions of an instant, Penso was alone in the sea of eternity, surrounded by nothing more than infinite possibilities with no concrete form, and thus had nothing to contrast itself with save for all that could, would, could not and would not be. Thus, as it thought 'I am' so did the sea of eternity resonate with this thought, and Penso the first god died in (or, by some accounts, was transformed by) a metaclysmic explosion that arranged the sea of eternity into a single being: Aio, eternity incarnate.
-Eternity and Its Children
As the sea of infinite possibilities was now governed by will, several more Primordial Spirits were simultaneously born of Aio as it conceived them within his mind and within her womb (to try and list them all off would literally require an eternity itself). One of the most notables of these Primordial Spirits was Etero, the concept of time divided into chronological order. When Etero was born he took his mighty scythe and split the sea of eternity and all its creations, forever separating it into past, present, and future. With order born within eternity, the realms of creation began taking form. An infinite number of realities sprang into being, islands in the sea that soon became continents in an ocean.
The children of Aio, refereed to as the primordial spirits (not to be confused with primordial gods), claimed these realities as their own, shaping them to their wills and whims, becoming gods, spirits, demons and more, and then siring their own children and creating yet more spiritual life. All creation in all its forms flourished under the watchful eye of Etero and his consort Ordo (order) while Aio sat back contently, freely giving of its body to her children, looking on contently as they took part of him and made so many wondrous new things out of the stuff of eternity and creation.
However, not all of Aio's children were happy with reality. The youngest of Aio's children wanted nothing of reality and its boundaries and rules and limitations. It cried out against the mutilations of its parent by its siblings, and even bemoaned its own state (since being an entity of its own meant that it too was just a fraction of Aio that had been cut off from the rest of eternity).
It renounced all the islands and continents of reality that had formed within the being of its parent, and instead, in its bid to be rejoined with its parent, made the waters of the sea of eternity its domain. And so Aio's youngest child became Khaos, a perversion of the primordial void from which all that was and could be sprang. Kahos was what was left when all the possibilities for reality had come into being, the nightmarish and unimaginable aggregation of all that could not and should never be.
- Reality Besieged, Alliance in Heaven
Kahos, as a perversion of Aio, turned the sea of eternity into a torrential mass of chaotic winds that ripped and tore at the edges or reality in all its forms, at once laying siege to the islands and cutting them off from one another. Only Etero, Aio's first born (not by virtue of being the first of a billion billion entities to have been created simultaneously, but instead by virtue that were it not for him, the concept of 'first' would not exist) could freely cross the streams of Khaos. As Khaos raged and attempted to tear reality after reality apart and rejoin all to Aio, Etero rushed to link as many worlds as possible under the same timeline, uniting them under his domain, and then joined with Ordo to sire the primordial spirit Spaco and grant dominion over the concept of space and distance ( the primordial spirit who had previously fulfilled such a role was, sadly, one of those that Khaos had been able to consume before Etero could save him).
Through this act Etero created spacetime: the joint dominion of he and his daughter. An ordered sense of reality that bound the realms under his dominion, not only allowing travel between them again, but further protecting them from the ravages of Khaos. Those of Eteros's siblings that were saved and brought under his and his daughter's protection banded together, wishing to protect their creations from chaos and to resist the loss of their identities, not wishing to return to Aio before their time. The mightiest amongst these were four who had consolidated the greatest realities.
Beno the Regal: Lord of Lords who governed over the concept of nobility, power, and divine right to rule; one of order's strongest proponents.
Malbono the Corrupt: inventor of pain, suffering, and perversion of the natural order; at first believed to be a supporter of Khaos, Malbono recognized that without order to bind the world there could be no disorder to contrast it.
Korpo the mundane: father of the mortal races, the first who had thought to breathe the spark of life into the elements that made up reality, creating organic life as it was known, culminating with his greatest creation Sentient life, which all agreed was a close as beings created from matter rather than energy could ever come to being divine.
Animo: mother of souls and spirits, who had sought to sire as many children as Aio, and wished to see them spread over all of reality and shape the world to their desires. It was she who crafted the 'souls' that Korpo had designed as the instrumental key which could breathe life into matter. She and Korpo treasured the living beings they had jointly created and the lands they lived on, and wished to protect them from Khaos' destruction.
With these four powerful allies, and hundreds of millions of other primordial spirits and their own children behind them, Etero, Ordo and Spaco declared war on Khaos, swearing to forever protect all realities from his ravages.
-A Secret Hope
Despite his new alliances, Etero knew that this could not be a war to be won. Though he and his siblings were rightfully eternal, being children of Aio, their fallen sibling Khaos had become anathema to eternity and creation at its very core, capable of tearing away at their essence with his winds and pulling even eternal beings back into the sea of eternity, robbing them of their identity. Yet there were no primordial spirits who could do the inverse, none who could take from Khaos as he could take from them, all they could do was resist, and though they were primordial, they were not perfect, for perfection is a concept that escapes form and is as free as the chaos itself. They would eventually lose, slowly but surely.
To combat this inevitability, Etero looked back through time and saw the moment in which the being that would become Khaos was born. He could do nothing to stop his brother's birth, or to destroy him once he was created, but once Khaos began corrupting the sea of eternity, Etero extended a hand out and plucked a fragment of Aio out of its time before it could be reached by Khaos. He left this fragment of eternity untouched, unaltered, and uncorrupted and bound it in a sphere of spacetime so it could be protected from the hands of Khaos. This World Egg was the final bastion of eternity pure and true, and as long as Khaos did not posses it, he could never truly attain victory. Etero then went back to his own domain: a reality, a universe made entirely of spacetime, wrapped in around itself as many times as there were atoms within it, and placed the egg within a small speck of dust found in the exact centre of his realm, using the entire reality he had constructed with his daughter as a fortress to protect the world egg, the resting place of Aio.
Etero then enlisted the aid of Korpo and Animo in creating a new breed of organic life, one yet more perfect than any yet made by the two. A pure balance of spiritual and physical. They created this race, and the city that it would inhabit, to serve as protectors of the World Egg. They named the city Atlantis, in honour of the precious primordial spirit of space and counterpart to Etero, Atlanto. Thus its people were the Atlanti (or, more colloquially, the Atlanteans). The Alanti were tasked with protecting the egg, capable of travelling anywhere within their cosmos at will so that they could fight back any force of Khaos that may find its way into the universe before it could alert the fallen primordial himself to the presence of the egg here.
With this final measure taken, and with the final hope of the multiverse resting in the pure power of the egg, Etero took the primordial spirits, and led them to the front lines of the divide between the connected realities of spacetime, and the torrential winds of Khaos that shook the sea of eternity, so they could stand as vigil, and forever protect their worlds from the brunt of Khaos' wrath.
Second Book
-The Vigil and The Exodus
Left behind to stand watch over the universe of spacetime, the Atlanti wasted no time in getting to work on their assignment. Their city was designed not only to act as the egg's cradle, but also to draw power from it and turn it into energy that the Atlanti used to power great devices of magic and science. Most prominent among these were many devices that allowed the bending of spacetime to the user's will, allowing one to find and use loopholes placed in the system of spacetime in order to travel near instantaneously between locations. The Atlanti knew that their numbers would have to be much greater than they already were if they were to effectively serve as the vigil for the entire cosmos and so they began their quest by reaching out into the nearby star systems in search for intelligent life. They would seek out the children of Korpo, the sentient lifeforms that had been scattered like dust across the vast expanse of the spacetime universe and display to them the perfection of their state as demi-gods, a perfect balance between material and spiritual, and convince the members of the races to join them in their divine task. Some races were quite responsive, beginning to worship the Atlanti as gods in their own right nearly as soon as they made their presence known, others were aggressive and warlike and took the displays of the Atlanti as contests of strength and reacted with hostility. The Atlanti largely ignored these, choosing not to waste resources on them if they didn't need to. though they did not hesitate in protecting themselves from whatever attackers came after them. The few times they were convinced into putting their vigil on hold to deal with a hostile alien species, the Atlanti proved without doubt that they earned their title of the most perfect lifeforms.
As the years passed, armed with their ability to mobilize across many star systems in almost no time at all, the Atlanti spread out the roots of their intergalactic empire, assimilating several races into their doctrine, sharing with them the secrets to manipulating spiritual energy. While the pureblood original Atlanti remained distinctly more capable than their assimilated brethren, the Atlanti themselves stopped being a race and became something more akin to an order, or a creed. It was the sword of all sentient life that would combat the khaos winds and the warps they created wherever they may appear, the army that maintained order in the universe against the forces of chaos.
At the dawn of their initial civilization, Earth had been the crown of the Atlantean intergalactic empire, the capital city of Atlantis its crown jewel. However as the Atlanti became more and more efficient at combating the forces of the warp and preventing Khaos winds from poking holes in the universe, Kahos himself, still locked in eternal conflict with the primordial spirits that held nearly the entirety of his assaults at bay, began to realize that the precious few khaotic winds that did manage to assault the spacetime realities, were met with especial resistance when they struck near the heart of these realms. Kahos was beginning to focus his attacks on the mighty Atlantean bastion of the spacetime cosmos. The Atlanti knew the implications of this: should this continue, earth would become a more and more obvious target for attack and it would only be a matter of time until one of Kahos's warp gates touched energy from the world egg. The Atlanti could not let that happen, and so they resolved themselves to do the unthinkable, abandon their crown. In fact, they abandoned the entire local cluster of solar systems, using their mighty technology to lay waste to every remnant of Atlantean culture within a hundred light years of Earth and relocate their residents to other parts of the galactic empire. Only two cities were spared; firstly Atlantis herself, who was too important to lose as the cradle of the egg, and was therefore warped into a closed space located at the centre of the earth where it would be best hidden from Khaos. The second city, renamed Atlantis Nova, was allowed to remain on earth but was sunk at the bottom of what would eventually become the Atlantic ocean, and encased in a powerful barrier to ensure none besides Atlanti could ever enter it. This City was put to sleep, all of its engines shut down save for those bare minimum that would run the barrier, and was designed to act as the only gateway into the true Atlantis that lay at the heart of the earth. This would be the only seed of Atlantean culture left on the home planet of earth as it was returned to a lifeless, barren wasteland where life would have to start over from scratch. After this mass exodus from their homelands (for the local cluster held many of the home planets of many of the oldest races to be part of the Atlanti empire), the Atlanti continued to spread across the galaxies, using the pain of their lost home to protect the cosmos even more fervently now, that their sacrifice not be in vain.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Name: F[BCOLOR=#000000]ū[/BCOLOR]ma, Yin Age: 27 Gender: Male Race: Fumetsu Appearance:
Role: Antagonist
Job: Scientist (researcher with degrees in chemistry, psychology, bio-genetics, evolutionary theory, theoretical physics, mechanical engineering, and was previously an illustrious member of the time honoured Machine Intelligence Research Institute. Also has extensive knowledge on Human, Alia and Fumetsu physiology and biochemistry, partially attributed by his deep study of martial techniques and several forms of medicine both tradtional and modern. Basically if it has anything even remotely connected to the structure and function of the human mind and body: Yin likely has a degree in it. And, if not, he will have studied it extensively regardless.)
Weapon: Cybernetic halberd with mono-molecular vibro-edge made of plasma resistant Metatronium alloy.
Equipment: When he does have to personally engage in battle, Yin has a personal combat suitdubbed CENTURION he uses that protects him from head to toe, can project a limited kinetic barrier when it detects incoming projectiles at or above the velocity required to damage the plating.
Its defensive specs are optimized for ballistic, incendiary, and explosive damage, but as a result it does poorly against laser and plasma weaponry: plasma will expend the kinetic barriers quickly, and a strong enough laser can punch right through them. Because of this, the offensive specs are tuned towards agility, maneuverability, and precision. The suit is designed to be tough enough to take common grade punishment, but fast enough to dodge hi-tech heavy weaponry.
CENTURION's software capabilities (the ones that provide the internal HUD display as well as active battle information to the operator) are run by a VI with the same name as the combat suit, modded after the operating software that run full scale mobile suits. Because of this, the combat suit can double as a piloting suit due to the VI being compatible with most existing system frameworks. Thus, it can grant Yin access to the systems of nearly any machine he hops in provided its operating software is not custom written.
CENTURION was originally designed to be utilized by commandos who would be expected to eliminate high-priority targets and act as command units for specialized forces in a large variety of settings. As such, its visual display has several different modes of sight to accommodate everything from night vision to long distance recon to underwater movement. However Yin, having little fondness of most guns, has had the VI's programming altered, decreasing its efficiency at long range in order to provide him with combat information more relevant to Yin's close quarters, martial combat style. It is outfitted with an active camouflage system, but due to the other specializations already present in the suit Yin had to settle for and older stealth model. As a result, the effectiveness of the camouflage will wane in proportion to movement speed, and top of the line sensory units are capable of seeing right through it even if he is completely still.
Inventory: Wherever he goes, he is accompanied by a large autonomous rolling case that contains both CENTURION and the retracted version of his spear. This in in case he should ever need to quickly get ready for combat (a common enough occurrence when you are an interplanetarily wanted criminal). Besides that he keeps very little else on him personally, keeping most of his possessions in his many hideouts and laboratories.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Detrui la malliberigita.
(dey-truu-ee la mal[as in malcom]-lee-bear-ee-gi-ta) Prirabi la malliberejoj.
(pree-rah-bee la mal-lee-bear-ey-yoy] Detronigi la provosoj.
(dey-tron-ee-gi la pro-voh-soy)
La trinidad klavoj disvastigi liberecon de kvankam, emocio, kaj ago.
(la tree-knee-dad cla-voy' dee-svas-tee-gi lee-bear-eh-con dey k-vahn-cam, ey-mo'-si-oh, kai ah-go)
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
"You called?" asked Cable as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. His right hand was still in a cast from the fight yesterday but he wasn't showing any outward signs of discomfort. He did, however, have an unusually grave look about him.
"What can you tell me about a man named Garmr Bloodmane?" asked Daemond stoically while slowly shifting through text documents on his datapad. Cable's left fist clenched and his muscles tightened at the mention of the name. His employer looked up from the datapad and calmly added "He asked me to say hi to you on his behalf before leaving with the heart."
Cable sighed out lightly. "I don't know any men by the name of Bloodmane, but if that is Garmr i'm smelling off you then you've just had the pleasure of meeting the man who killed my father."
Daemond raised an eyebrow to this but said nothing, so Cable continued.
"When I knew him he went by Garmr Battlemane, my father's younger brother and the man who taught me most of what i know about fighting today. When he killed Keber, my father, he was branded blood traitor in our clan. I'm assuming his new clan name is a nod to this."
The red haired demon sighed out. "Ouroboros do enjoy their low blows, don't they?"
"Aye, they seem well intent on pissing us all off." nodded his body guard.
"Then I need you to tell me everything concerning that man's abilities, connections, and how exactly an unturned wolfkin was able to put Master Inu into such a critical state."
"Alright, but it;s kind of a long story..."
***
By the time night had fallen the construction noises had already died down, though not ceased cpompletely. While Daemond's supernatural crew were deffinitely more efficient than any human group of contractors, fixing up an entirel blown out wall within a day was still much even for them, and the west wall of the estate still only had its basic framework repaied, with plaster walls thrown up quickly to keep the elements out. The work platforms set up along the outside wall and the highly contrasted plaster to the rest of the mansion seeming as almost a scar on the estate, reminding all of the recent surprise attack. It woudl take a few more days
Of the 50 paramilitary personnel that had been working as the estate's security detail that morning, 24 had been ultimately confirmed to have been killed in action and later brought back as undead servants for the enemy. 1 of the grievously injured from before had suffered medical complications after treatment and passed away as a result, and 2 of those listed with milder injuries were later revealed to have been injected with difficult to detect naga venom, having caused them to go into cardiac arrest later in the day. Along with the 7 dead kitchen staff, and the killed enemy operatives, there had been a grand total of 86 bodies to be burned and purified throughout the day.
The day had been a long one for Daemond, juggling everything from repair works, to managing the inevitable human press and investors that would demand to know what had just happened, to ensuring no other attacks were being carried out on any of his other properties. Even as an immortal with a full company of skilled subordinates, such a day had been rather exhausting for the leader who had been asked to be at several places all at once that day (and had to work through the frustration of not simply acquiescing to these requests in order to preserve his human image).
Thus, when 10 O'clock hit and the man was finally in a position to delegate enough work to his lieutenants, generals and branch managers to earn himself a moment of respite, he found himself before shayna's room door. He had honestly found it surprising when he'd sought out her presence in the estate and found her here. He knew she had spent the majority of her day in the training rooms working out her aggression, but he'd imagined she would have then much preferred to spend the night in his bar on the west wing's second floor's rather than in a room that would smell of her now once more lost sister.
He was thankful for it in a way though. With the kitchens and dining hall having suffered so much damage, the bar situated above them had seen quite a bit of traffic that day as anyone who wasn't in a position to help with the reconstruction, security or medical efforts in the estate that day had gone there to work out their stress, and it was now becoming increasingly crowded as the work day was winding down to an end for most of them.
Daemond imagined Shayna was likely no more appealed by the thought of the crowd than he at the moment. He knocked at the door three times, but didn't wait for her to let him in. He stepped into the small room, finding the woman laying down on her bed still fully dressed. He chose to say nothing about what he thought he saw were tear marks on her cheeks and instead closed the door behind him, going to sit down in the small chair in front of the vanity that had been provided to the room.
He didn't excuse himself for allowing himself in, but instead looked to her with a look of muted concern. "How are you doing Shayna? I hear you spent a large portion of the day geting acquainted with our punching bags."
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Ring of Conquest: Ruled by Lucifer, this is the central ring of hell. The architecture is dark and modern while drawing inspiration from Gothic themes, though the interiors of the mansions and skyscrapers reflect whatever environment their masters are most comfortable in. This is where the nobility of hell resides, as well as where the crown prince of darkness sits on the Broken Throne. All the princes of hell have residences here, however only Lucifer and Satan (in his armour) have erected their castles in this ring. Lucifer's castle is a traditional, gothic piece of regal architecture that speaks of his elegant but iron fisted control over hell and stands atop the highest hill in hell, overlooking all of its damned residents but similarly always looking upwards at the other realms still out of reach.
Satan's castle is at the lowest point of the circle and serves as the gate between the ring of war and the ring of conquest. It is a great and roaring coliseum where bloody and gruesome gladitorial events are held for the viewing pleasure of all hell's residents. If any demon wishes to gain the status of demon lord and earn residence in the lavish first ring, they must prove themselves adept enough to withstand all of the coliseum's trials. Beneath the coliseum is the closest thing hell has to a jail (what with it not having any laws and all). Demons who have offended the demon lords and nobles are often sent here to serve as living punching bags used to train hell's police (read: glorified body guards and thugs of the ruling demons) and military (read: elite glorified body guards and thugs of the ruling demons).
Ring of War: The second ring of hell city, this dominion is ruled over by Mammon, Hell's banker. He and the sixth 'prince' Leviathan rule over the bourgeiosie of hell in a perpetually cutthroat society quite literally driven by greed and envy. The lesser generals and greater demons of hell's army reside in what is arguably the most chaotic ring of hell, as residents are constantly looking for a neck to be used as a stepping stone to higher success, while looking out for any daggers aimed at their backs. This is the ring where the rulers are separated from the ruled, the strong from the weak (with satan's castle considered the last of these challenges in order to earn the right to be in the first circle). Few people inhabit this circle for long as they either eventually move up to the first circle or get knocked back down to third circle by someone more powerful, but a few clever demons have managed (under mamon's supervision) to earn rather comfortable living in hell working as administrators to these various contests of strength, wit, political acuity, business sense, and all other manner of competition for demons to prove their superiority to one another and ascend the ranks. Mamon's castle is a large towering skyscraper that serves as hell's central bank. All forms of desired and collected energy, as well as any material items that may be of value to certain demons, can be stored here for protection from other demons, for a price. Through this great bank mamon has also implemented a standard currency in hell by taking advantage of demons' one unified desire, soul energy. He has created, distributes, and loans out soul gems that demons can use to contain pure soul energy (basically incredibly refined mana) which they can then used as bartering chips for whatever goods or services they may require in hell (all for a price of course).
Of course the real genius in this is that he's also made sure that there is a large ammount of soul energy constantly in circulation within these crystals. Turning soul energy into currency causes demons to begin hoarding it rather than consume it and grow in power, being fooled instead by the power of material riches and monetary fortune and guaranteeing that fewer powerful demon lords are born who could pose a threat to the balance of power in hell (a balance he works very hard to keep at its current precarious state, since he benefits from continued high tensions between the princes without breaking down into full on civil war). Mamon's inteligence is second only to Belphegor's in hell and what he lacks in raw intellect he more than makes up for in charm and manipulative tendencies. Whereas the other two ruling princes rely on their superior power and status to keep their servant princes in line, Mamon actually tricked Leviathan into signing a contract of servitude to him so he wouldn't have to worry about her and her envious ways stabbing him in the back some day (which, let;s be fair, totally would have happened at some point or another). Mamon was also the demon who first taught humans the secrets of demonology, and every single contract for a human soul that is performed by a demonologist basically goes through his 'office' first and he takes a set cut of whatever spiritual power the human is offering before allowing the contacted demon to materialize in the mortal realm.
Leviathan's castle is a house of mirrors and windows that possesses a thick, heavy atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are moving through water (and the decor is somewhat reminiscent of nautical scenery as well). With her mirrors she can see all that which others possesses, so that she may crave their pleasure for herself and plot to rob them of it. Mammon uses her and her mirrors as an information network so that he can stay up to date on everything going on in hell (and occasionally in the other realms).
Ring of Famine: Third and largest ring of hell, home to not two but 3 pirnces, as well as approximately 70% of hell's population. This is the ring of consumption and excess and its primary function is to convert mortals into demons and bolster hell's forces for the eventual war with heaven.
Every single human that has ever been seduced by demons was eventually brought back here. Belphegor, the seventh prince, is also possessed of the smallest castle. It is indeed his mechanical throne that serves as his mobile castle and from it he produces an unlimited number of tools, inventions and technologies. He travels around the outer circle, offering his products as free gifts to any sinners he may encounter. His gift s however are all cursed. While they will seem to be exactly what the person may have needed at the time, using belphegor's gifts will inevitably cause said person to eventually be faced with a challenge that they cannot overcome with his gift, long after they have gotten used to relying on it usefulness. At this point belphegor will soon thereafter appear and offer yet another gift which will aid the person. The cycle repeats until the sinner is completely dependent on Belphegor and his technology and can do nothing for themselves and wish to do nothing for others. The final gift is when belphegor offers to augment the sinner's body with his own technology. should the sinner accept, they are then turned into a demon and forever bound to belphegor's services, becoming one of his servant half-automatons.
Belphegor is the weakest of the demon princes (which i still just a relative scale, he could still wipe the floor with any demon lord) but he is also the smartest, possessing knowledge of every technology that will ever be created, and how to corrupt it. He is Hell city's architect and his demons maintain its systems, he is more familiar with the city's layout and secret functions than any other demon.
Beelzebub, the fifth prince, also calls the third ring home and has many great halls where sinners are invited to indulge in all they may consume. His insectoid servant demons prepare great feasts of food and drink for the sinners, as well as prepare several pleasurable narcotics for them to consume (which coincidentally causes more than one of his halls to be double staffed by asmodeus' servants who lull the happy, intoxicated, and decadent sinners into drunken, mindless orgies). As the sinners are themselves consumed by the pleasure of consumption, they do not notice as their flesh begins to rot and decay. Beelzebub will then offer them meat of his own flesh and wine of his own blood to consume. Should the sinners mindlessly devour what is placed before them, they will be corrupted from within and turned into one of Beelzebub's servants, becoming the chefs, distillers and drug mixers for the next group of sinner to be host to the hall.
Finally, of course there is the ruling prince Asmodeus (armour, though it should be noted that he can change his appearance and gender at will to suit his moods, this is just his standard look) who ensures that the third circle is constantly drenched in the desires of the flesh. His castle is an intricate sex palace with many doors each leading to a room where a specific sexual desire can be filled. regardless of one's sexual preferences, all one's body desires can be found here, from the most passionate night of lovemaking to the most depraved and barbaric forms of sexual deviance. The lust demons working in his usual brothels makes them a difficult thing for any sexually capable person to resist, but stepping into his palace without significant magical protection is tantamount to simply surrendering yourself over to lust. Your body will be drawn instinctively to the room that you desire most (not necessarily knowing what is behind) and when you open it you will be treated to the deepest of carnal pleasures. sinners who lose themselves in this palace (in more way that one) rarely ever notice how they themselves gradually become lust demons as they continue to copulate with their hosts. By the time someone else opens the door to their room, the conversion is usually complete and the sinner has become another demon to satisfy the sexual desires of another. Asmodeus's powerful illusions make the reality within this palace incredibly disconnected and it is impossible to orient oneself within unless he wishes it.
Outside Hell city and its three rings would be the Planes of Death, a barren and lifeless wasteland. Oh wait, not barren because the landscape is actually dotted with rivers of magma, random valleys lined with sharp blades (and the impaled bodies of those not looking where they were stepping), sandstorms that will literally rip you limb from lib, and lakes of blood. And it;s not lifeless since it actually holds a stunningly diverse fauna comprised of dozens of nightmarish creatures (known as hell spawn collectively) that want nothing more than to devour you and all your loved ones in the most gruesome and horrific way possible (you will occasionally see hell spawn within the city, either when they sneak in to snack on weak demons or when they are brought in to be tamed and broken in as beasts of war). these planes and their varying regions comprise the rest of the underworld. Rumours are that there are wild demons who live out in those plains as nomads and barbarians, mastering the wild beast that inhabit them and using them to hunt, but these are unconfirmed.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Name: Muramasa
Alias/Titles: The mad/demon swordsmith
Age: appears somewhere in his late twenties but speaks as if he is older.
Gender: Claims to be male, no one's checked but people have commented on that face of his(?)
Profession:Blade of Dominion/ Workshop Chief.
Likes: Interesting people, Interesting things, beautiful death, beautiful weapons, chaos
Dislikes: boring people, stagnation
Bio: Little is known about this man named Muramasa. Cryptic and unsettling, this sword smith appeared on the island some years after the reverend established his cult and began a murdering spree soon after getting to Ritenkyo. Though killing sprees were not exactly a rare occurrence on the island, his was notable in that he would exclusively target swordsmen and women of known skill. Their bodies would only show up weeks after they had disappeared, mutilated and drained of blood.
For a long time no one knew exactly what it was that was happening, one night however one of Muramasa's targets was skillful enough to hold him off until attention was drawn to their confrontation. There were witnesses to the end of the duel, how the white haired slayer artlessly and without grace cut down the trained swordsman in a quick, imperceptible motion. News of Muramasa's existence spread through the island after he fled the scene, but no one knew what his purpose was, or why he stole back into town a few nights later to recover the body he had left behind; all without anyone noticing until the following morning.
However now there were bounties on his head and some began hunting for him. When they found him, they discovered a cave hid out in the mountains of the island. It was equipped with a traditional furnace, butchery table, workbench, and the various trimmings of a twisted smithy. The self-proclaimed demon smith had been hunting skilled killers and harvesting them for parts. He would use a chemical process to draw the carbon out of their flesh and bones and mix this into the iron sands he would smelt into the raw steel required for his blades. Once that steel was worked and forged into a blade, he would quench it in vats of the collected blood of his victims, releasing a foul odour of hell and sickness that clung to the walls of the cave. The stones he used to sharpen the blades afterwards were made out of the pulverized and baked solid teeth of his victims, and finally he would use the kept-aside bones of the swordsman's sword arm to make the handle and scabbard. He would later explain to the reverend that this process imbued the blade with a dark power by binding the victim's soul to it as a demon. The blade would then become one of vengeance and suffering that would compel its wielder to never sheathe it once drawn if it had not tasted blood, even if that had to be its wielder's own.
While the mad smith's claims to demon magic were questionable, the quality of his blades were not and it was clear that he was consistently making better and better quality blades as he went on judging by the other fine blades hung on his cave wall.
When he was discovered, he had just put the finishing touches on his latest 'demon' blade and thanked the bounty hunters for finding him. They proved to be very useful targets to test his newest creation on.
After giving his new sword its first meal he went into town and made his way towards the head quarters of the Mana religion. He unceremoniously cut down anyone who got in his way but did not alter his course, keeping steady for the high Temple. Rumours started spreading that the mad smith must have decided to make the most powerful man in the land, Hojo Haruhito, into his next victim. Warriors faithful to the path stood in Muramasa's way to protect their leader, but they too were cut down.
Making his way to the temple, the smith was fully prepared to slash his way through the entire complex to meet the man he sought. He was surprised however to find Haruhito waiting for him outside of the gates, a political show of strength by not hiding behind his servants for protection no doubt (and even more certain he had a trick up his sleeve If he could not negotiate Muramasa out of killing him). However none of it would be needed, for when the white haired smith approached the reverend he knelt before him and held out his latest blade. It was still as perfect as the day it was forged even after weeks of travel and slaughter, and he held it as a gift. Muramasa offered it to Haruhito and confessed that he now felt his skills were of sufficient quality that he could offer himself up for the position of Ritenkyo's chief blacksmith. All with the cult's sponsorship and his supply of their material needs in return of course.
This was how Muramasa became the second blade of dominion, Chief of the new workshop that served as the greatest smithing factory on the island, and up until Kirose Tagamichi arrived on Ritenkyo; a swordsman thought to be insurmountable in spite of using no technique or stance in his fighting. He still remains the second strongest of the three by a small margin, and is arguably more feared than Kirose. Whereas Kirose and his followers would cut you down for causing trouble for the dominion, Muramasa was likely to just have you captured and tortured for the fun of it if he thought it could inspire his 'art'. That being said Muramasa rarely forges 'demon' blades like he originally did anymore. It would cost too many bodies to be affordable for the entire workshop to operate in such fashions, so he only uses his trademark forging style when he finds an interesting and powerful swordsman he wants to turn into a special blade. He has openly stated several times that he wishes to one day cut down Kirose himself as he believes that the noble ronin would "make a masterpiece to compare Juuchi Yosamu's beauty". Despite this there is rarely any open hostility on his part towards either of the other two blades.
Juuchi Yosamu - 10,000 cold nights
The Blade Muramasa calls 'his most beautiful masterpiece yet'. A sword he came to the island with, it was the second demon blade he ever created, imbued with the remains of the master who taught him the smithing arts. In all subsequent works Muramasa has failed to replicate Juuchi Yosamu's simple perfection and attests its beauty to the raw quality of the ingredients his master's corpse provided. It is rare that he deems someone worthy enough of serving as a meal for the blade, but rumours say that when he draws the cursed blade all sounds become quet and the only thing to be heard is a faint, mournful weeping on the edge of one's hearing. Some say it is the echoes of the victims loved one mourning them in the future. Others say that rumours tend to run too wild around Ritenkyo.
Nikuya no kama - Butcher's Sickle
The very first demon blade Muramasa ever created and his go-to weapon when he does not have a more recent one in his possession. As such it is the weapon he has had the most practice with and the one that has tasted most blood. Its blade is in fact the only besides Juuchi Yosamu's that has tasted Muramasa's master's blood, which Muramasa guarantees definitely makes it more lethal. Whether this is true or whether he is just as crazy as everyone assumes, either way it's a proven fact that many an unfortunate swordsman of the island has met a painful end on the edge of that blade.
Fighting Style: Muramasa, in spite of his impressive duelling record, maintains that he is a swordsmith not a swordsman. As such he has never studied any school of swordplay to aid him in combat. In his words he 'simply listens to the blade's cry for blood, and let it guide [his] hand towards the blade's satisfaction'. While he does not seem to realize it (or, if he does realize it he is pretending to be unawares), Muramasa is actually practising a form of mental martial art called Mushin: the mindless mind. Muramasa is entirely devoid of fear for his own life, anger, or hatred during battle. His mind is entirely focused on killing simply for killing's sake, reacting to everything that comes to him naturally with only that purpose occupying his being. His movements waste no energy or motion and he has no hesitation. Combined with a strong physique and stamina from tirelessly working the forges, a naturally intimidating and off-putting disposition, and dozens of battles of experience under his belt, Muramasa's formless form is too unpredictable and lethal for any average swordsman to read in time to avoid getting cut down. The only swordsman so far to have possessed a technique pure enough to flow with Muramasa's mad mushin and exit the fray without getting injured has been the third blade of dominion.
Battle Theme-
Name: Sasuke
Alias/Titles: Whirlwind, Kuro (to close friends and family), Monkey/Sarutobi (if you want to get your head caved in)
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Profession: Street Performer, Punisher
Likes: women, music, honest and hard-working people, freedom, dancing
Dislikes: bladed weapons, anyone who enjoys making others suffer
Bio: 50 years ago, an Italian Jesuit had brought with him the first black man to set foot upon Japanese soil. A servant once warrior who was now tasked in waiting on the hands and feet of a pompous priest; come to spread His word where none had asked to hear it and all had more important things to focus on like the psychopathic daimyo constantly engaging in war with one another. However one such psychopath happened to be Nobunaga Oda, and he happened to have quite a fascination with foreign cultures. So it came as a surprise to few when the devil king of the 6th heaven sought to meet the 'man with skin back as an ox'. The black man, who was named Yasuke by the Japanese (his original name was yasufe), found a friendship in this 'demon king' and was brought out of service to the jesuites by him, even becoming a samurai in Nobunaga's service.
The Italian looked down upon Yasuke for his complexion, but Oda instead saw a man with the strength to snap those who annoyed him like twigs, and yet chose not to. In their developing friendship Yasuke would explain that in his youth he had been hot-blooded and eager to call himself a warrior, convincing himself there was some sort of glory in the name, but that this had come to an end when he had gotten in a brawl with another hot blooded youth with similar ideas, and ultimately won by murder. Yasuke had not gone into the conflict intending to end a life, but had found that when he was pressed with the decision between loosing, or fighting with lethal force, he had chosen wrong. Filled with guilt with what he had done and rightfully branded a criminal, he had found redemption in the service of the servants of God. Nobunaga found all of this amusing and considered Yasufe to be a valuable ally, not as another blade but as a trusted shield under his service. To that extent, while he had given Yasuke a sword and taught him how to use it upon making him a samurai, he also had a western shield crafted for him. It was perfectly round buckler about 15 inches in diameter that Nobunaga gifted to Yasuke because he knew it suited his brawler's fighting style much better than the sword ever would.
Unfortunately Yasuke's shield would not prove enough to save Nobunaga from the flames of honno-ji three years later. He had escaped the temple after Nobunaga committed seppuku, fleeing with Nobutada to azuchi castle and fighting to defend him from Akechi Mitsuhide's men, but here too he failed before the traitor's numbers and was captured. However, while Mitsuhide had hated Nobunaga, he had never had any ill will towards the quiet and respectful Yasuke, so rather than have him killed as an enemy soldier the black man was instead returned to the Jesuits' care as he was 'just a beast who knew nothing (and thus was unaccountable)'.
Yasuke mourned his friend's loss and his inability to protect him, and was robbed of any thoughts of vengeance when hideyoshi beat him to the punch. While he had not been officially stripped of his tile, these were the end of Yasuke's days as a samurai and he returned to living a simple life among the servants of god, eventually marrying a Japanese christian convert by the name of Fumiko. As the sengoku period came to a close through hideyoshi's rule Yasuke was able to find peace, siring a son nearly two decades after first coming to the Japanese islands. Unfortunately the peace would not last as the last embers of the sengoku period came with the Tokugawa usurping the Toyotomi. Whereas Hideyoshi had at least been tolerant of christians thanks to Nobunaga's open welcome of them in the past, Ieyasu saw them as a disruptive force to be removed, and Yasuke knew that with him in power it would only be a matter of time before danger returned to threaten his family.
This prompted him to pick up his old buckler, left unused since his failure at honno-ji and azuchi, and train himself once more. Yasuke also used his much of the funds he had saved up to buy enough iron to have a second shield forged for his son Sauske once he had become big enough to hold one. He taught Sasuke the wild martial dances of their people, and how he had refined them by observing the fighting styles of the japanese. With punches, graples, flips, kicks and all manner of shield bashes (both with the flat and the reinforced edge of the buckler) Yasuke taught his son how to be a shield, how to break an opponent without killing him. He instilled his son with the values he had gained through his own experience, as any good father ought, and wanted to impart on him the knowledge of how to use his strength and temper his youthful hot blood so as to protect those important to him.
Sasuke had grown up idolizing his father. He wholeheartedly believed in the lessons his father taught him and trained hard to one day become a fighter as skilled as him. Unfortunately when he was 17 the daimyo saw fit to cut the training short. Harassment of christians was already cmmon by the daimyo;s men and the few remaining Jesuit missionaries knew they were no longer welcomed in nippon, and now finally the Shogun had declared christianity as illegal. Those who refused (or were suspected to be likely to refuse) to abandon the western church were therefore criminals in the eyes of the shogunate and were taken from their homes.
When the soldiers came to Sasuke's village his father would have liked nothing more than let everything end peacefully, but the other men were not going to let themselves be kicked out of their own homes. Thus when a fight inevitably broke out the black samurai came to the aid of his friends and neighbours. Sasuke also joined in the fray but ultimately with he and his father being the only really experienced combatants on the villager's side, it was no surprise that they lost the fight. Yasuke died that day, cut down by a man with far fewer reservations to killing than he. Sasuke was deported, like the rest of his village, off japanese soil with only what they all had managed to grab in their arms before the soldier hauled them away. Sasuke only thought to grab his father's buckler, and hold onto his own.
He was separated from his mother as the men and women were taken away separately and was never able to find out what happened to her. Sasuke himself was deported with many of the younger men to Ritenkyo, stripped of japanese citizenship and branded a permanent resident of the prison island. Sasuke was full of rage against the shogun's men, but quickly found that rage could not keep your stomach full and that few people had use of a warrior who could only fight with shields beyond considering him a curiosity piece. Capitalizing on that curiosity piece angle Sasuke became a wandering perforer, turning his martial arts into a dance he used to entertain others in return for coin. It was this way that Sasuke kept himself fed and traveled the island of the broken and rejected. He eventually encountered nother pair of entertainers; a Goze (blind songstress) by the name of Narumi who played the shamisen, and a man named Jingen, only a few years older than Sasuke, who was ostencibly Narumi's percussionist but was mostly acting as her body guard while she travelled. The three became fast friends and they were quick to incorporate their acts together, mixing their music to his dance.
however, even with this newfound happiness sasuke could not forget the anger he held inside. While all on the island were victims of the shogunate some were not above taking advantage of the weakness and misfortune of others in order to increase their own standing on the island. From the brigands who pillaged peaceful farming villages, to the three blades of dominion themselves, Sasuke found many parasites ready to prey on those weaker than them and always rose to challenge them whenever he saw them bully or take advantage of anyone else.
He is a generally pretty laid-back guy who enjoys having a good time, but the anger he feels towards those who unjustly harm others is always ready to burst forth when he sees injustice. And while he continues to use shields and foregoes bladed weaponry in his father's memory, he has beaten several opponents to death with his blows since coming to the island. On some level he knows this goes against what his father tried to teach him, but Sasuke tells himself that rapists and murderers the likes of which he's met on the island threw away their right to live long ago anyways.
recently to avoid causing his band mates trouble he has gotten to sneaking out and tracking down people he has seen abuse others at night, after the fact, to punish them for their misdeeds. While he tells himself this is to protect Narumi and Jingen, he also keeps his night time vigilantism a secret from them.
Weapon(s): he weilds his father's buckler in his right hand, and his own in his left.
Fighting Style: Sasuke fights in his own dual-wielding version of father's style which is similar in principle to Capoeira. Many acrobatic flips and turns to disorient and intimidate the opponent, however his style has less focus on kicks than capoeira and instead focuses on putting the momentum of those spins and turns into Sasuke's arms in order to deliver bone-crushing blows with the bucklers that Sasuke dual wields into battle. Of course, the shields are ultimately defensive tools, not blunt weaponry, so in addition to strikes Sasuke is also very handy at blocking/parrying weapon strikes and moving in for the counter when he sees the chance. His style is well suited to taking out several brawlers at once and is useful against most swordsmen since the majority of samurai have never had to work around a western shield before, let alone two. Unfortunately his style also suffers from incredibly short range, making him weak against pole-arms and ranged attacks. His acrobatics also require a fair amount of stamina, meaning that he will tire out quickly if the fight drags on and he is not careful. It's this style that has given him the moniker 'whirlwind' among some.
Trivia: Because of his name, some less-than-educated folk have mistaken him for the legendary ninja Sarutobi Sasuke (who would be his elder by at least 30 years). Even worse, those people have a tendency of then assuming that "the reason people call you (actually talking about sarutobi) a monkey is because of your black skin?". Sasuke has grown very annoyed with this and typically reacts violently when someone confuses him for the ninja, or calls him 'monkey'.
He has also become quite fond of the Street of Flowers in his years on the island, becoming a regular customer and coming for a visit whenever he is in the region.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
here are Magercraft's 108 words of power. They are basically the magical equivalent of a table of periodic elements. Note that the house names are also the first word of power in each house, they are also part of the first room. The 'rooms' are basically power level groupings. Words in the same room will all take approximately the same amount of skill to master, and there is always a significant difficulty gap between rooms. the ones with 'x'es on them have not yet actually been discovered and are the accepted theoretical words of power that the mages think will fit in these spots. This is exemplary of how much magic is treated like a science in this world.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Part1: A blessed curse
Thriknoach's story, as with that of many Genasi, began with heartbreak and deception. What little the dragonborn knew or his origin he had to piece together through the various cold comments and criticisms directed at him by his mother. She, Aurimolik Aussiroth Nala, was a once proud matron of the Aussiroth family within the Aurimolik (draconian for goldhide/goldscale) clan of the northern volcano fields. However, when her husband, a warrior of great prestige within the clan, was slain in a battle versus a clan of chromatic dragonborn infringing on their territory, she found herself burdened with the dishonor of having lost her mate before she could lay any eggs that would hatch into heirs to continue his legacy. Faced with either marrying to another, lesser family, or to live out her days as a purposeless widow within the clan (and eventually exiled for her lack of use), Nala sunk into despair before the prospect of being the last great Aussiroth.
When one night, she ventured outside of the cave system which housed the clan (for what specific reason, Thriknoach never figured out. Perhaps to run away, perhaps to find her own death), she was greeted with the sight of her departed mate, wreathed in blessed flames of the most luscious golden yellow. Believing his spirit to have returned to her, Nala gave herself to her lover's embrace and conceived Thrik on that day. Sadly, as would be revealed once the egg hatched, she had been deceived that night. 'The trickster' as Thrik new his biological father, was a genie of fire who had adopted a mortal form to seduce his desperate mother. Thus, when he himself was born he was not of the noble and resplendent golden colour passed down in his clan by the great Aurix dragons, but rather he was of a bastard metallic red colouration, shining with the luster of his clan, but tinted in the shade of their enemies and rivals.
Rumours of whom Nala had truly lain with that night began to fly like arrows, and the child that was supposed to restore her honor and preserve her family instead became another, greater shame upon her as she realized the deceit to which she had fallen prey. Hence, the boy was named Thriknoach, translating roughly to 'bastard' or 'junk/trash' (literally 'no treasure') in Common, the newborn knew scorn before any other interaction, only compounded by the fact that his mother never allowed him to bear the Aussiroth family name.
Faced with what seemed to be an utter abomination of metallic and chromatic mixing, the clan Maekrix (leader/chief) had ordered the child to be sacrificed to the idol of religious worship that united the clan. This idol was an ornate golden brazier that overlooked the central cave through which the rest of their system was connected, and guarded the most direct and often used access to the outside world. Within the brazier were pieces of crystallized, orange resin harvested from the plants and trees that could survive in the fertile but hostile volcanic soil up above. These crystals were called Ever-Burning Embers by the Aurimolik for their property to, once ignited, continue to burn without seeming to be consumed by the flames. This was, of course, a misnomer, the 'embers' did indeed burn away (shrinking to a third of their original size and turning from a clear golden orange to a lusterless, opaque near-brown once spent) but did so at a rate slow enough that a single crystal which fit in the palm of a hand could keep a torch continuously lit for up to four days.
To be more specific, while the Aurimolik held both the brazier and the embers as sacred, the true object of their worship were the Iridescent yellow and citrine flames produced by the crystals and contained within the Brazier itself. They believed this flame to be a gift of their golden dragon ancestors, and maintained that as long as the flames were kept alive, the clan would prosper.
If a dragonborn brought shame to themselves, it was common practice to simply banish them here as in any dragonborn clan. However, if they brought shame to the Aurimolik as a whole, as the Maekrix had decided the newborn did, they were fed to the flames so their dishonor could be turned to fuel for the clan's continued success. Normally, this entailed killing the dragonborn beforehand, cutting up their body into pieces small enough to fit in the brazier, and burning them over several days (with the stench of their scorched flesh described as the foulness of their dishonor being purified). In a twisted stroke of luck born from cruelty, however, the clan leaders decided against this course of action for Thrik. The reason for this were threefold, firstly, as a newborn, the child could very easily fit inside the brazier without needing to be cut down to size. Secondly, as a newborn, the child's scales would not have yet fully developed, and would not protect him from the flames the way a mature dragonborn's would. Finally, as most the clan thought the child to be a bastard union between gold and red scales, they were easily convinced that he was a dishonor worthy of a live sacrifice, if the sin of his existence was to be truly purified.
These cruelties and prejudices would save Thrik's life, as once he was thrown to the golden flames, he cried and wailed in pain, but was not consumed. They were correct in their knowledge that a young dragonborn's scales could not protect them from flame, but it was his genie heritage which left him to writhe without suffering marks upon his attempted execution. For all that the child would continue to have nightmares of being eaten alive by flame through the following years, his elemental blood let him survive in the brazier long enough for him to be pulled out again.
It was not, of course, that the clan chief had suddenly grown a conscience upon hearing the innocent's cries and pain. Rather, the laws of their clan had saved Thriknoach when every drakin (drake kin) saw him survive the initial burning. While the brazier was the center of their religion and served in nearly all of their ceremonies from weddings to funerals, the clan knew that the most sacred of these rites was the Trial. All Aurimolik who wished to be considered adults in the clan needed to pass the trial, wherein they would venture to the surface world, harvest crystal resin from the plants there, and return to kindle the flame of the brazier. The kindling process itself required the dragonborn to climb in the brazier and deposit their haul directly. The higher the flames burned after being kindled (so, the larger the haul brought back), and the longer the dragonborn was able to withstand the lick of flame tongues within the brazier, the greater honor they earned for their family upon exiting. For all that gathering the Ever-burning embers themselves was a difficult task, risking life at the mercy of the elements and other creatures who wandered the volcanic fields, it was standing in the flames itself which truly mattered in the coming of age ritual, this action determining how 'blessed' an individual was by the golden fire.
When Thriknoach failed to be consumed by the flame even as a newborn, when he writhed and wailed without dying, the clan as a whole was made aware of how 'blessed' this child was, and the clan chief no longer had the authority to leave him to die.
So, fished from the jaws of death by those who put him there, the newborn became a strange fixture within the clan which was not truly a part of the group, but could not be banished either for fear of angering the fiery 'god' which oversaw the caves. For a moment in the child's life, Nala believed he may yet be useful to her, may yet be a way to restore honor to the Aussiroth name, and she gave him the closest thing to positive attention he would ever know of her.
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Part 2: Accursed blessing
Unfortunately, the child's genie blood was every bit the curse that it was a boon to him. For all that it had saved his life upon his intended sacrifice, it had also diluted the blood of dragons in him. By the age of 3 he could not yet breathe a single spark of fire. By 5 even after daily training and uncountable failed attempts, all he could produce was a pathetic whistle of flame, jetting out a meager half foot from his snout (something he would later learn was not draconic breath at all, but rather an oral casting of the Produce Flame Cantrip granted to him by his genie heritage). The weakest of his peers by that age could already produce a cone of dragon breath up to 5 feet long. Forget becoming a warrior worthy of the Aussiroth name, it became clear to the clan as a whole, and especially to Nala, that the boy would never be a warrior at all. He, like his mother had been before, seemed set to become a dragonborn who could not live up to the purpose for which he had been born into the clan. This revelation was what finally broke his mother's will. She renounced Thriknoach entirely, and remarried to another family. No dishonor could be greater than what she suffered as the matron of a dead family with a weak, bastard heir.
Thrik was thus, in a sense, adopted by the clan leaders, though a human would closer recognize this as becoming a ward of the state than true adoption. The Maekrix, knowing the child could not be banished but also not wishing to burden any other family with what he saw as a useless mouth to feed, came up with an ingenious way to resolve the situation. He simply made up a position for the child to fulfill within their clan. It was only the child's widely known status as one blessed by the flame that kept him around in spite of his uselessness, so the clan chief declared the new orphan as Ocuirixeni, or, 'Watcher of the Flame' (lit. he who sees the fire). As the clan's first 'religious scholar' it would be his duty to monitor the flame, tend to its embers, assist in the rites featuring the brazier, and stare into the flames in order to divine which course the clan should take and report this to the chief.
On paper, this seemed like a position of nearly unprecedented honor, fitting for one blessed by their sacred flame since birth. However, in truth, it was only a clever way to keep the boy out of the way without insulting the sacred flame. The brazier was seen by all, at all times as it overlooked the cave. It would have been impossible for anyone to not notice if it was growing weaker and in need of refueling, so being assigned to specifically monitor the embers was as redundant a task as there could be. 'Tending' to the embers mainly just meant having to be the one to suffer the sting of fire as he had to fish out any old, spent crystals whenever the brazier was to be re-kindled, and the chief knew full-well that the child had no skill in divination, nor anyone to teach him. While Thriknoach was still expected to make regular reports and predictions for the sake of appearances, the fact that he reported these only to the Maekrix himself gave the old lizard full control over what was disclosed to the public and what path the clan actually took.
And thus, for the next few years, the brazier which was still the object of Thrik's deepest nightmares became his prison of boredom and loneliness, a metaphorical ball and chain which left him an exile by another name within the confines of his clan's home. So was he forced to remain near it at all times while the normal clan members looked at him with distant reverence, and the leaders he could actually interact with treating him with thinly veiled disdain.
The child's loneliness would go on for two whole years, before he would meet his first friend. This friend came in the form of a human monk nearing middle age, who had been captured by a group of young dragonborn during their Trial when they found him meditating beneath the ever-burning oak they had hoped to harvest their hauls of resin from. While the man had eventually allowed himself been captured, he had only done so after incapacitating several of their members with his bare hands and forced the original group who'd discovered him to call to others undergoing their Trial for help. The Aurimolik respected strength and martial prowess, and furthermore none of the youths that had been incapacitated by the monk suffered permanent damage. As such, there were no grounds on which to execute him. Even as a trespasser, it was clear that he had not been the one to initiate combat and the pride of the honorable Aurimolik would not let them harm one who had not infringed seriously enough upon their laws to earn it. However, it was clear that the man had been attracted to, and discovered the nature of, the ever-burning embers, and thus could not be permitted to leave their lands and spread that knowledge to others. Thus, punishment for his trespass was slavery, and it was eventually agreed upon that the human would be made into Litrixocuirixeni, or 'The Guardian of the Watcher of the Flame' (lit. armor of he who sees the fire): a useful babysitter to keep watch over the Watcher just as the leaders were fearing he may become bolder and more rebellious with age.
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Part 3: A friend's a mentor
That was how Thriknoach met Chin Sou Shen(family name given first), the Shou Monk. Sou Shen had been a monk trained in the way of four elements who, through years of meditation, had become enamored with the power and grace of fire. Under the philosophy of the four elements, the body was composed of earth and water, and animated by air, but driven, given purpose and will, by fire, which comprised the soul of living things. Sou Shen saw fire not as a harbinger of destruction or chaos, but as the free manifestation of the very force of life itself. Fire was the blessing of the sun, which let crops flourish. It was the warmth of a campfire, which protected adventurers from the cold and, by letting them cook their meats, also famine. It was the light of a torch that kept a guard safe from assassins or a traveler safe from night creatures.
Like the drive for life, the ambition that burned so powerfully within the hearts of all humans, the power of fire could be corrupted, mishandled, and grow out of control. However, just as Sou Shen believed the mind as an inherently positive force which he had spent his life mastering and channeling through study and meditation, he found that destructive fire was simply a reflection of the power of life corrupted and let to spread without guidance. Such fires always proved destructive to themselves in the end, burning out their fuel and dying from the result of their own might and fury. even then, however, they left behind field of fertile ash so that new seeds would grow where they had brought destruction. The sun, meanwhile, rose every morning as surely as the rest, content to rain down its blessings on the world for yet another cycle. To Sou Shen, this was all the proof he needed of his philosophy.
In spite of living his whole life in a clan that worshiped fire, Thriknoach had never heard anyone speak of the power of fire with such poetry and consideration for life. The clan leaders all saw the flames of the brazier as a symbol of the might of dragons, a representation of the fury and battle might which flowed through their veins, a weapon to be used to drive out any enemies from their lands. Thrik, perhaps out of a sub-conscious loneliness, eagerly listened to Sou Shen's recounting of his own adventures and how he had grown into the Monk he was today, how he had devoted his life to the pursuit of the life-saving power of fire.
Through their shared imprisonment to the brazier (which Sou Shen recognized as an object of dwarven craft, certainly no divine object handed down by the dragons), a friendship formed between the human guardian and the dragonborn watcher. Thriknoach (who never shared the meaning of his name until long after Sou Shen had gotten used to simply calling him 'Thrik') eventually came to see Sou Shen as a mentor. Then, when he understood more about the life of a monk, sought to make him his master.
He first asked Sou Shen to teach him the ways of the monk as well, but the elder human had a better idea. After having chosen to devote himself fully to the element of fire and leaving his monastery, the pilgrim monk had sought out knowledge on the arcane as well, so that he could deepen his understanding of and affinity to his element in a way that simple meditation would not grant. While he had only progressed enough in the ways of the wizard as he had felt was necessary to provide useful context to his practices as a monk, he was able to convince his charge that these skills would be more useful to him as an acolyte of a godless religion than the self-perfection of a monk's hermitic training. Of course, showing the boy that one could, with enough practice, use the Burning Hands spell to create a stream of fire every bit as intense as the Chief's draconic breath made convincing the young dragonborn all the easier.
And so, for the first time in his life, the flames that were such a source of trauma for Thriknoach became beautiful to him for the first time, as he began to see them no longer as the symbol of draconic might and destruction that his clan revered, but as bearers of protective warmth and light as his master saw them. He dedicated himself to his master's arcane teaching wholeheartedly, wishing to one day become a spiritual leader in more than just name for his people, and wishing to one day break from the control of the clan leaders who had so long seen him as no more than polished trash.
Unfortunately for the 'blessed' child, the friendship would not last through the end of his training.
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Part 4: A brother's arrival
Thriknoach's mother, now renamed Aurimolik Loexmiirik Nala, had very quickly gotten to work clearing her name upon remarrying, even if to a lower family, and hatched another son within a half year of abandoning Thrik to the clan leaders. This son, Aurimolik Loexmiirik Vythgix, was every bit what Nala would have wished her first son to be. Tall, strong, fast of growth, and of a lustrous golden sheen that none could miss. His relentlessness in battle and the length of his flame breath even as a child quickly marked him as a future warrior who would have even brought pride to the Aussioth name. Nala doted on this child with all the love and care she never spared for Thrik but in spite of this, or perhaps even because of such spoilage, the prodigal son took notice of how his mother would compare him to the Watcher of the flame, and soon grew jealous of how such a weakling dragonborn was given such a place of honor in the clan and even drew his mother's gaze, if only to serve as a barometer by which to praise her son.
No secrets remain so for long in such a closed off community, and it was not long before Vythgix learned of his shared parentage with the watcher, and why it was that other adults still seemed to look at his mother with mockery or scorn in spite of his accomplishments. While the young future warrior told others, and himself, that he could not stand the thought of someone having shamed his mother so, deep down he was jealous. With as high an opinion of himself s his mother had instilled in him, he could not stand the thought that his entire existence was essentially a way for his mother to wipe away her past dishonor. No matter how he excelled or what he accomplished, none of it would be a victory of his own, but rather it would be seen as making up for the disappointment that was the Watcher. If not by the clan, by his mother, and if not by his mother, by him.
At first Vythgix channeled this resentment into yet more drive to become the perfect warrior, the mightiest dragonborn, someone who would bring shame to the Watcher by his very existence, and remind him of what he should have been, what he failed to be. However, as Vythgix's half-brother received instruction from the human slave, little by little the picture of the weak and beaten Watcher faded away, replaced with the sight of a young dragonborn with a straight back and a lowered chin. A quiet, humble, strength that was uncommon for the warriors of the clan, but served to elevate the watcher as a worthwhile spiritual leader in the eyes of the clan, showcasing serenity and wisdom beyond his years.
The sight of this utterly infuriated Vythgix. With every word approaching praise that he heard directed towards the Watcher, his resentment and indignation only grew. He, of course, was not the only one to stew in this new development. Nala also saw as her failure of a first child slowly grew to earn the respect of the clan for his own deeds, as opposed to purely religious reverence. She saw how the symbol of her own dishonor grew to have a standing arguably greater than her own in the eyes of the community, and as she spent more and more time looking up at the brazier distractedly, her compliments to her star child became less and less frequent. She never became disdainful of Vythgix as she had Thriknoach, but her younger noticed the lack of attention all the same, and it only served to crystallize his deep seeded resentment into seething hatred for the weakling to whom it seemed he would never measure up.
This all came to a head when the brothers were 14 and 9 respectively. With the Watcher on the cusp of adulthood, talk had begun of whether or not he would be expected to pass a Trial of his own. While there was some debate of how he would fare in the collection part of the trial, being shorter and lighter than most Dragonborn his age, the elders all remembered how he had not been killed by the flames even as a baby, and those too young to remember this had only known him as a figure inexorably linked to the sacred brazier and all its rites. They had all seen how he had grown used to fishing the dead embers out of the brazier without flinching, and whenever discussion turned to how he might fare in standing within the blaze itself, several were of the opinion that he may outlast any previously held record. Some even believed that he may not be harmed by the flame at all and could remain there indefinitely. The more fanciful rumours asserted with great certainty that the Watcher actually slept in the brazier on a nightly basis, and that the trial would be nothing more than formality for him, or that they would need to come up with a completely new trial because of this (if someone were to point out at these times that the watcher would not fit in the brazier with any level of comfort, some would even claim that his blessing allowed the brazier to magically grow to fit him at night).
The thought of this, of his failure of a half-brother, receiving such honor and prestige, utterly blinded Vythgix with indignation. The apparent depression his mother seemed to fall into around the same time certainly did not help either. It was with this sentiment in mind that he devised a foolish and spiteful plan to shame his brother.
Using the smaller auxiliary entrances to the cave which he could still only barely fit through, Vythgix would sneak out over several nights to gather earth and ash from the surface. Every night as he did this, he observe the patrols of the guards near the tunnel leading to the main entrance, always more concerned with potential threats from outside than they were with anyone being up past curfew.
Once he had finished his preparations, the young dragonborn slipped his way past the guards and stealthily climbed up to the resting place of the brazier. Contrary to what the rumors stated, the Watcher did not in fact sleep in the brazier itself. In fact, thanks to his climbing popularity in late years, he and his guard did not even have to sleep by the brazier as they had first been forced to do, and had been granted usage of a storage room near the entrance of the cave which slowly but surely had grown to be seen by the populace as their room which just so happened to also hold storage, rather than the other way around.
This was how Vythgix found the brazier completely unattended in the dead of night, just as he had planned. If it was the watcher's duty to monitor and protect the flame, then his greatest dishonor would come from the flames being extinguished. As long as Vythgix slipped away without raising alarm, the extinguished brazier would be found in the morning and blame would eventually fall on the watcher who had failed to protect the clan's most sacred object and the holy flame it held.
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Part 5: A warrior's fall
Unfortunately for the boy, however, he had substantially underestimated why the resin crystals were called 'ever-burning'. Attempting to snuff the flames out with the loose ash he had collected was all but useless, the heat itself blowing most of it away before the particles even coated the shimmering gems. The heavier volcanic earth may have done the trick in it's stead. However the iron sands found within did not react well to being dumped in a fire, and began crackling and popping far too loudly for the youngling's comfort. At this rate, he felt he would wake up the entire cave before even having snuffed out a single ember in the brazier. With his master plan crumbling before him, the young warrior-to-be quickly lost his patience, as every addition of earth only brought with it more popping and crackling that threatened to expose him, and he ended up simply cursing under his breath and kicking the golden brazier hard in frustration (the receptacle being far too heavy for him to damage or budge that way either way). At this point, he knew that his plan had failed and only hoped that none noticed the addition of earth the next morning. Or, that if they did, no one would know to blame him at least.
However, as he was about to turn tail and retreat back to his own cave, Thriknoach himself appeared at the altar, barring the way to Vythgix's escape. The whole cave had not, as feared, been woken up by the crackling, but he had. His face was initially one of confusion. He knew of his younger half-brother, of course, but had never directly spoken with him and was unaware of the grudge this one held towards him. He did, however quickly notice the half-empty bag of earth held by the younger dragonkin and quickly pieced together that, for on reason or another, the brazier was being tampered with. Growing stern, he demanded to know what was happening, but having learned patience and consideration form his master, did not call the guard to him just yet in case things were not as they appeared.
Vythgix, however, failed to see the opportunity in this kindness. In the adolescent dragonborn's mind, he had just been caught committing grave sacrilege red handed. Worse, he had been caught by the very bastard brother he had been attempting to shame, and would doubtlessly be the dishonored one instead. When the Maekrix and other can leaders learned about this tomorrow, he would be exiled for sure, if not worse. And all of it would be his cursed brothers fault. Everything was the damned crimson scale's fault.
Caught between fear, panic, rage, and a sub-conscious feeling of necessitated equivalent doom ("If I go down, I'm taking you with me"), the younger dragonborn chose to attack his elder instead of trying to explain himself. If he could just kill the Ocuirixeni quickly enough, maybe he could leave without anyone knowing what he had done, or maybe he could run away himself. Whatever happened, he needed his enemy to suffer and be removed from his way beforehand.
While the younger Dragonborn was stockier and had the advantage of warrior's training, he was still a full head shorter than his nearly fully matured sibling, and the different in weight and size prevented him from ending things anywhere near as quickly as he'd hoped. After having ducked backwards and narrowly avoiding razor sharp teeth digging into his jugular, Thraknoach's patience immediately found its end and the elder dragonborn snarled viciously at his younger, ready to protect his self and his station.
The following combat between the two was anything but stealthy, with then loudly snapping, growling, and yelling at each other while they grappled, struck, clawed, and tossed each other about in sloppy, undisciplined mortal combat. While Vythgix's training did allow him to eventually pin his brother beneath him, it was not quick enough to let him deliver the finishing blow before the Litrixocuirixeni, the damnable human slave who'd given the watcher his pride back, he who had first been woken by the sounds of their conflict, arrived on the scene and sprung forth to defend his charge.
True to his measured craft, none of the flurry of blows that the monk battered Vythgix with were of any strength to leave him permanently injured in any way. However, with his mental capacities already compromised by panic and battle rage, and disoriented as he was by the monk's violent intervention, Vithgix's subsequent attempt to re-position himself to continue the battle only ended the conflict. Having lost track of his surroundings, he accidentally took one too many steps backwards and ended up slipping and falling off the side of the outcroping which let the brazier shine its light down onto the entire main cave.
The proud warrior-to-be had only time to wake up the entire cave complex with his terrified scream, before his dozen-meter-long drop was suddenly interrupted by the ground and he was silenced forever.
There was only one way that the proceeding events could unfold. For all of Thriknoach's protest and testimony, for all that the Maekrix conceded that the eatth in the brazier had most likely been put by Vythgix, that this was a great sacrilege, and that the Ocuirixeni and Litrixocuirixeni were completing their tasks by defending the brazier and the watcher respectively, ultimately the laws of the clan, and Nala's fury, were absolute. A slave who killed a dragonborn, even by accident, could only expect death in turn.
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Part 6: An exile's rise.
Thriknoach raged and cried against this sentencing, but Sou Shen simply accepted the sentencing, and asked Thrik to not throw away the respect he had worked so hard to attain by contradicting the word of the Maekrix.
And so, the next day, Thriknoach watched from his post as his only friend, and last remaining attachment to or compassion for his clan, be incinerated in ritualistic execution. Due to his human nature, they had not even considered Sou Shen worthy of sacrifice to the brazier he had been overseeing for the last half decade. Instead they constructed an ugly bonfire around him at the base of the common cave and set him ablaze still living.
It did not even matter that, remaining in deep meditation althroughout, the human had let the bonfire consume him without uttering a single cry or yell. Had he been consumed by the sacred brazier's flames in such a way, he would surely have been elevated to status of demigod in the clan's legends. As it was, he was simply a curiosity to one day be forgotten, swept aside like his very ashes that were blown away by the wind.
Through all of the pain and discrimination that his clan had made him endure through his life, the crimson scaled metallic dragonborn never felt any hatred or resentment towards the Aurimolik the way he did now. As the execution drew to a close, the young dragon man turned away from the scene and faced the damned brazier that stood to be his prison of solitude once more. Without thinking, he thrust his hand in the flames as he had done a thousand times before. Rather than pull out an inert, spent rock, however, he pulled out a still translucent and brightly burning ember, holding t tightly in his fist until the lack of oxygen killed the flame. With the half-spent ember now smoking in his palm, Thriknoach observed it for a moment before pocketing it, and slipping away to his quarters. In the span of a few minutes he packed up a change of clothes, grabbed some rations, and his master's old quarterstaff, and then ran away as fast as his legs could take him.
Damn the brazier and damn the gold scales. His master had shown him that there was a world beyond his caves, that he could fulfill a destiny greater than being whipping boy to a flawed sense of pride or honor. He traveled south, away from his volcanic homeland, and swore to devote himself to the teachings of his master and friend.
Over the next few years, as he sought another source by which he could further his arcane studies, Thriknoach (who had foregone the clan name or Aurimolik and now called himself 'Sahqonslen' or 'crimson flesh' in the language of the eastern elder dragons that flew in his master's homeland) learned of necromancy. While most saw this as a wicked art, Thrik approached it with the same philosophy that his master used for fire. An art that spat in the face of death could not be inherently destructive, only corrupted and wild if used improperly.
He now seeks a way to study the craft and master it, dead set on the goal of one day reviving his friend and rescue him from the unjust sentencing to which he'd been subjected.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Nicolette 'Nickie' Sparks. Goes by 'Nix' these days, call her Nicolette if you want to permanently be on her shit list.
Age: 17
Gender: Female, agender lean
Orientation: Good fucking luck
Appearance: Nickie's look has always been an androgynous one, a fact that was only accentuated by the clothing she decided to start wearing once she hit her teens. Standing at 4'11, with short hair, piercings, a couple scars, baggy clothes, and hardly any breasts or hips to speak of, she's been mistaken for a 14 year old boy as opposed to a 17 year old girl more than once, to varying degrees of annoyance or indifference depending on the day. Her hair is naturally blond but she's kept it dyed white for the last 3 1/2 years. She isn't pretentious enough to get colored contacts, though, so everyone can still see her dark green eyes.
She has seven scars in all: two on her right cheek, one on her right fore arm, one at both her left and right upper arms, one inside her right palm and another hidden under her hair at the back of her scalp—all from the various scraps she's been in since the day she first manifested her abilities.
Personality: Normally, apathetic and antisocial to say the least. 'Nix' is the kind to turn down company from anyone with a heartbeat, keeping 'pets' such as her squirrel Nibbletooth around as the only things she'll interact with on a daily basis. Her entertainment comes mainly from reading, practicing her powers, and drug use when she can get her hands on Meth or MDMA. Typically prefers combining two or three of the above activities. She keeps to herself for the most part but does little to hide her disdain for others when she needs to interact. She becomes especially prone to engaging in fights either verbal or physical when she is High on meth without any E to 'even her out', tweaking at the end of a meth binge, or going through withdrawal because her Coordinators found out about her most recent 'relapse', confiscate her supply, and force her to go through rehab. Surprisingly to most who know her, she has a pretty strong artistic streak, often writing, drawing, or painting when caught in the throes of the last thing she smoked or ingested. She always destroys anything she's made whenever she sobers up, though.
Contrary to popular belief, she's never killed anyone, but she isn't in any rush to dispel rumors that make other people give her a wide berth.
Has a mild fear of insects
Power:
Postmortem Neurological Override, A.K.A. Necrothurgy Nix has the ability to take control of the nervous system of any dead creature within about 10ft of her, reanimating it.
With this ability, she can puppeteer the corpses at her will. When reanimating humans, she can even make them talk and emote as normal (provided none of the required body parts are damaged). However, she is specifically performing a neruological override, not just establishing a connection, so she has no ability to harvest information from the brains of the dead no matter how fresh/well preserved.
Furthermore, she also can't do anything to interrupt the natural processes that cause decay, or heal damage done to anything more than the nervous system when she takes control. So her Thralls always end up eventually decaying and becoming too structurally compromised to puppeteer, requiring her to break off the connection and find another corpse to animate.
Over the years, she's practiced this ability enough with small animals that she can simulate very life-like motions from just about anything she animates. She's also learned to control up to 3 thralls at a time, though bigger ones usually need more concentration if she's not familiar with the animal.
She has a hard time controlling bugs not only because of her fear but also because their neurological structure is so different than mammals'.
Sage Forrester
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Appearance: Somewhat on the short side for a guy, standing at 5'7.5", though it ends up working to his advantage as it complements his softer 'baby faced' features and generally positive and non-aggressive demeanor, giving him a presence that allows most people to feel comfortable around him before he even uses his powers. He has short, light brown hair that he always keeps the perfect level of messy and favors clothing that is casual but still neat and fashionable. In short, he puts in more work than he would admit into maintaining a style that gives the impression he doesn't put any work into looking good. His eye colour is of a similar shade to his hair, though surprisingly few people can answer the question easily due to his sub-conscious habit of not making prolonged eye-contact when he speaks to others.
Personality: Ever amicable and affable, Sage is the kind who seems to know how to instinctively make friends wherever he goes. Considerate, attentive, and almost always positive, he comes across as a dependable and trustworthy person, if somewhat lazy when it comes to anything involving physical labour or early mornings. He specializes in acting as a mediator and councilor in his groups of friends, since his powers allow him to get along with people of different backgrounds and viewpoints and have given him experience in handling all sorts of folk. Mostly anyone who has spent a significant amount of time around him will speak of him as a good listener who always know what to say and consistently makes the area around him more enjoyable.
Anyone, that is, besides mages with psychic abilities. He makes a point to avoid most anyone who could interfere with his powers, and does his best to interfere with theirs whenever they are nearby. It always becomes problematic for him when someone points out how he doesn't care at all for any of his supposed lifelong friends. Even worse when they try to use their powers to take his friends away from him.
Power:
Telepathic Erokinesis The ability to make others more friendly towards him, up to and including the ability to make others fall in love with him. With this ability, Sage can
Passively sense how amicable someone is to him at default. Useful for telling if someone is trying to fool him with a false smile.
Passively lower the aggressive impulses of non-telepaths around him within a 5m(16ft) range to a small degree
Actively lower the aggression of any one target in a 2m(6ft) range that he focuses on.
Actively increase the amicability a non-agressive target within a 5m(16ft) range of him by focusing on them. A 5 minute conversation will leave a previously neutral target not possessing psychic defense with a distinctly positive impression of Sage. 15 minutes of continued or cumulative exposure is usually all it takes for a target to start considering Sage a friend.
Actively increase the positive feelings an already friendly target feels towards him by talking with them. This works at any range as long as the target can hear Sage's voice and there is no more than a 5 second delay between them (meaning phones will work but recorded messages do not). After a cumulative hour of conversation, a normal target can be brought to feeling as if Sage is either one of their best friends with whom they can share any secret, or made to see him as a serious consideration for romantic or sexual partner, depending on which way Sage wills the affection to blossom. This is the last stage of affection that can be imposed through cumulative interaction.
He can take control of a target that feels best friend/romantic partner levels of affection for him and enchant them completely. This can only be done on one target at a time, and requires that Sage be secluded with his target for approximately six hours (read: this means simply that he is in a position where he does not have to actively divide his power among any other 'friends', and the target itself stays within his power continuously for this time period. He and his target can be out in public during the enchantment as long as those two criteria are met). Once the 'ritual' is over, the target's devotion to Sage will be absolute and border on religious. It will be exceptionally difficult for them to remember or process any information that contradicts their view of him and are likely to become aggressive towards anyone who makes a concentrated effort to snap them out of it.
Disenchanting the target through telepathic means is possible, but either requires a telepath/empath of significantly greater power than Sage, or a 'ritual 'of equal or greater length than his own to undo the control.
The enchanted target must spend at least 5 minutes within 10m(30ft) of Sage every 24 hours for the enchantment to be renewed. If the thrall stays away from him for longer, the enchantment will begin to fade. It will take 1 week for every consecutive 24 hour period spent enchanted for the target to fully drop back down out of 'reverent' affection back to 'romantic partner' levels. If the target has started becoming disenchanted, Sage must spend and additional 5 minutes within 10m of them for every 24 hour period that they spent becoming disenchanted for the effect to be renewed in full (so if someone spent 6 days getting disenchanted, he'd have to spend a total of 35 minutes focusing on them to renew the enchantment).
In this state, a thrall will unquestioningly take anyone's life including their own should Sage request it. Since they believe themselves to still be in control of their actions, they may even do it without command if they believe it is necessary in order to help him.
Weaknesses:
Range: Until a target is already friendly towards him, Sage's powers actually have one of the shortest ranges for developed telepathic abilities that he is aware of.
Crowds: The more targets he splits his actively used abilities between, the longer they take to reach their desired effect. On average each additional target seems to cost him 30% more time (so if leaving a good impression one target takes 5 minutes, 2 will take about 7, 3 about 10, etc. etc.).
Animals: His powers are specialized towards befriending humans. Most animals take two or three times as long to affect as humans do. They also seem to almost always start off as aggressive towards him, for some reason...
Other Telepaths: While his powers seem to work fine on magical and non-magical creatures alike, telepathic humans are the one major exception to that. He struggles to make any progress on 'befriending' even telepaths significantly weaker than him (i.e. telepaths whose powers he can block out of his mind easily, or who aren't able to wrestle control of his 'friends' away from him), and worse yet, if a telepath breaks someone out of the control that Sage put on them, that target seems to benefit from some sort of vaccination effect and becomes similarly difficult to re-enchant even after the offending telepath has stopped protecting them. He consequently avoids stronger telepaths like the plague whenever he is forced to interact with magical society, though his past crimes make that an increasingly rare leisure for him.
left to right, Edward, Oscar, and Lynch, if they ever worse suits.
Leo(/Lynch, Edward, and Oscar) Peltier.
Age: 25 (22ish)
Gender: Male (All)
Orientation: Straight (All?)
Appearance: Leo is a fairly well built guy due to the active lifestyle he leads as a councilor and event moderator at Camp Solomon. Standing at 5'11 with silky black hair and stony green eyes, he's been told he could strike a handsome picture if he was ever seen in anything but 'beach bum' clothes. Truth of the matter is, though, that his work makes him value mobility and comfort over neatness or style, so long sleeves and pants that reach further down than his shins remain extinct species in his wardrobe outside of the winter months.
Lynch, Edward, and Oscar all keep more or less the same style of dress as Leo when they're out and about, with mild alterations to fit their personalities.
Personality(ies): For a guy who technically doesn't exist half the time, Leo considers himself remarkably well adjusted. It likely helps that he's spent near his whole life in magical society, but he's adapted to the usage of his power as if it were second nature and generally finds it enjoyable and fulfilling to help the different magical kids make the most out of their time at camp. He has a bad history with saying things as they popped into his head, and that getting him in hot water before, so these days people get the impressions he's a quiet or reserved guy since he makes a point to rarely speak unless addressed first. It then usually comes as a surprise to the kids when they find out just how driven and organized he is when he gets his mind set to a task, usually revolving around keeping the attendants of the camp busy in some form or another. He still finds it incredibly awkward whenever one of the kids gets a crush on him and almost always ends up running to Rikki for help disarming the situation.
Lynch is kind of a dick, to be perfectly honest. He talks with next to no filter and typically can't be arsed to do anything that isn't requested by one of his brothers, and even then... That being said, Lynch is also insanely driven and hard working once he gets going. A regular meat head, the guy doesn't know the definition of give up and is reliable whenever you need a hard working body or an unbendable will. He's also super protective of his family and the camp, meaning he makes for a good guard or rule enforce if the situation calls for it. Surprising to most, he loves music and actually likes to hit the dance floor. His singing is shit, but that's never stopped him or the Metal genre before.
Edward is an incorrigible flirt and easy going smooth talker. The more creative one among his brothers, Edward is a constant source of innovation and bad puns. Social and relaxed, he usually feels most comfortable directly interacting with the kids and other councilors, addressing motivational and interpersonal issues. He's next to never around when there's actual work to be done, but you'll be harder pressed to find a non-telepath who can work a crowd as well. For all his flirting, he's admitted himself that the idea of ever getting in an actual relationship without his brothers around is kind of terrifying. He likes to paint and read comic books when he has the free time.
Oscar is the most soft spoken of his brothers and tends to find himself most comfortable leaving the spotlight to the other two and doing some number crunching in the back. He has a knack for accounting and spends most of his time in the faculty office doing paperwork. He isn't antisocial, mind you, but finds that most people don't get excited about elegant numbers or efficient filing systems the way he does, so he keeps to himself unless someone else shows those same interests to him. For all his intelligence, he suffers in that he ha a tendency to get obsessed with any problem he can't solve right away, and can end up spending way too much time plotting out the best way to tackle an issue and miss the chance to act entirely. Generally speaking, though, he's a great help to the camp administration and just about every kid ends up going to him for directions in their first week. Unsurprisingly, he enjoys historical novels and number puzzles on his spare time.
Power:
Metaphysical Psychosomatic Separation. In other words, Leo has the ability to split himself into 3 not-Leos based on his Id, Ego, and Super-Ego. That is Lynch, Edward, and Oscar respectively. With it, the Peltiers can
Be in numerous places at once/be more than the sum of their parts. Each separation is its own physical mind and body with ability for independent action. This allows the triplets to accomplish together far more than Leo could independently.
Sense one another. While not fully telepathically linked, the triplets seem to share a subconscious and can tell when another is distressed or in danger. At close ranges they can usually intuit one another's feelings accurately.
Resist Telepaths. This is technically as much a learned skill as it is an ability, but Leo's and the triplets' intimate familiarity with their own minds make them better able to resist telepathic interference with their thoughts. This is especially true when the triplets are all together, as each mind must be dominated simultaneously or their subconscious connection will let the non-targeted triplet/s protect his/their brother/s from manipulation/manipulation.
Live thrice. Leo keeps the memories of all three triplets when they return to being him. As such, he has a surprising ability to consider things from multiple perspectives and can show a surprising amount of experience and maturity for someone his age.
Weaknesses
Independence. While the triplets are more effective while working together than Leo is alone, isolated each one is lesser than their original in some way or another. This makes them especially susceptible to divide and conquer techniques if one has a way to prevent the other two from responding to the subconscious distress signal one will send out if cornered alone.
Lack of cohesion. While the triplets usually work together well, their differing personalities will also make them butt heads at times, lowering their productivity. This usually happens when the three have been separate for too many days and start to differ significantly in what they want to do. When this happens, they usually become sleepy once their cohesion drops below a certain level, and soon fall asleep. When they wake up, they'll have become Leo again. It usually takes him at least a day of being himself before he feels ready to split up again.
Forced somnolence. Whenever the triplets return to being Leo, either by planned schedule or by low-cohesion-induced coma, Leo needs to sleep for at least 6 hours for his brain to sort the 3 different sets of memories neatly for him to use later. He can, if absolutely necessary, fuse back together and fight off the urge to immediately fall asleep, but doing so is sure to give him a splitting headache and will probably result in him losing some of the memories the triplets made by the time he gets to sleep.
High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
