Greetings Einherjar
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Futuristic ❖ M I R A I ❖ E T E R N U M ❖ Einherjars
- Thread starter Lekiel
- Start date
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Statistics (4 threadmarks, 6.2k words)
User Total InsaneAsylum 1 Foster 1 Doughnut 1 aziatsky 1 Threadmarks Reader mode
Lekiel
Two Thousand Club
Welcome to Eljudnir. . . This is your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming one of the Einherjar. Will you have whatever it takes? Or will you drift back into the depths of oblivion? Take your time, the assimilation process can be rather. . . painful. Ask as many questions as you like, but make them count. Prime Observer Amiela is a very busy woman.
If accepted, your file will be 'liked'. Division Gamma Blue will be recruiting six new Initiates. Acceptance is on a first accepted first served basis. Good luck, lost soul.
If accepted, your file will be 'liked'. Division Gamma Blue will be recruiting six new Initiates. Acceptance is on a first accepted first served basis. Good luck, lost soul.
❖ ░░ ❖ ░ ❖ ░░░
Class One Einherjar
SCRIM -
1. Nezha
I.EVie
2. Janus
GrieveWriter
CASCADE -
1.
2.
GALVODE -
1.
2.
RECOMBINANT -
1. Peitharchia
BLK
2.
SURGE -
1. Nergal
Ramjammer
2.
VERDACT -
1. Orion
Purity
EIDOLON -
1. Hades
revior
Class Two Einherjar
SCRIM ATUNITY
1. Andarta
❖ ░░ ❖ ░ ❖ ░░░
Code:
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[div class=openbutton][font='Audiowide']NAME HERE - Name it after a god/goddess/person of legend[/font][/div][/div][div class=mainpage][div class=closebutton][fa]fa-times-circle[/fa][/div]
[div class=textbox][div=width:100%;margin:auto;center;background:#000000;font-family:Unica One;font-size:1.5em;color:white;text-align:center;padding:0.2em;opacity:0.7;]Division γ Blue
"NAME HERE"[/div][font='Amaranth']
[B]Einherjar Classification:[/B] Class 1
[b]Gender:
Sexuality:
Height:
Weight:
Hair Description:
Eye Description:
Complexion:
Physical Peculiarities:[/b] (Anything else to note about physical appearance not described above)
[b]Approximate Age of Death:[/b]
[/b]Cause of Death:[/b] (Almost like what a coroner would right during post mortem)
[b]Year of Death:
Place of Death:[/b] (City name, planet name, galaxy name)
[b]Einherjar Chapter:[/b] (Name one of the stated Singularity Worlds. All Einherjar start in Eljudnir, but towards the end of their basic training and before they are attached to a fixed unit, they will be sent for varying amount of years to any of the various Einherjar Chapters for some practical training.
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[font='Amaranth']
[b]Metaphasium Augment Type:[/b] (choose 1 from available options, describe how it looks. A whip of energy? A gattling laser canon? Also note that all einherjar would obviously be given standard issue weapons)
[tabs][tab=1][heightrestrict=400][img]FACE CLAIM IMG URL NO ANIME UNLESS SELF DRAWN. Pref Semi Realistic. Avoid real FCs. Ask if unable to find.[/img][/heightrestrict][/tab][tab=One picture is enough, add more if you wish][heightrestrict=400][img]FACE CLAIM IMG URL NO ANIME UNLESS SELF DRAWN. Pref Semi Realistic. Avoid real FCs.[/img][/heightrestrict][/tab]][/tabs]
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[b]Personality:[/b] (Include flaws and strengths)
[b]Dislikes:
Likes:
Fears:
Character Quirks:[/b] (anything extra to take note?)
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[b]Name before Death:[/b] (if known)
[b]Life Before Resurrection:[/b] (Where did your character come from? Which time period? What did he/she do? How did he/she die? Do note that your character may not remember everything you have stated here. All Einherjar are expected to head for Purification in the Dream Vaults for routine memory extraction especially if the often vivid memories distract them from their duties. Purification can never fully erase the memory, and as such, you may still remember fragments. As the process is incredibly painful, Einherjar have learned to not let their memories affect them in order to avoid the process. Sometimes, if there is a lesson to be learned, an Observer will request the Einherjar to review the memory to learn from mistakes made.)
[b]Life After Resurrection:[/b] (How long has it been since you awoke upon the shores of the Oblivion Sea? How does your character feel about his/her new life? Do note you are a new initiate and have never gone out of Eljudnir on field duty. Initiation process can take anywhere from between 2 years to as long as it takes. Do you know/have a relationship with any of the other PCs?)
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[B]Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:[/B] (OPTIONAL)
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Last edited:
Redacted 2
aziatsky
New Member
Last edited by a moderator:
Ramjammer
Confirmed Memelord
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 143 lbs
Hair Description: Dark Brown. Thickly braided.
Eye Description: Brown.
Complexion: Dark. Even.
Approximate Age of Death: 46
Cause of Death: Bullet through the Right Eye. Exit wound on the back of the skull. Instant Death.
Year of Death: 2242
Place of Death: The City of Aresrora on the planet Unides. Euthenia Star System.
Einherjar Chapter: Aaru
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Surge.
Through channeling the Metaphisum in her body, Nergal is able to conjure shields and bulwarks of various shapes and sizes. The ability is most often used to provide cover for herself and her allies should none reasonably exist. On the support end of things, Nergal can augment her teammate's capabilities. Metaphisum chains shackle her companions to her and feed them a constant source of energy. The chains can also be used offensively to snare and subdue opponents.
Metaphasium seems to have taken residence in Lorette's left arm to a startling degree. Already dark skin rendered even darker, the substance bleeds up nearly to her elbow, rendering the limb inky black. Lorette is rather put off by the whole thing.
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Personality:
Lorette Lècuyer is both fiercely ambitious and intelligent, and at first glance seems to be rigid in her bearing and possesses a rather cool demeanor. Past outward glances Lorette has proven to be both patient and kind, speaking openly with any that would ask for her time. Despite her unscrupulous morals, Lorette believes fully in the potential of others and takes great pains to nurture that potential to the fullest in all that serve under her. Anyone can refine themselves into something greater if they lack the drive to do so, and Lorette would rather potential be brought to fruition rather than wasted.
Of course, that is to her own benefit more than anyone else's. Lorette didn't get to the top just by playing nice. Potential is only good if it's being directed in the manner that she sees fit. If that same talent is being used against her, then there's no kindness to be found. Instead, it's considered an obstacle to whatever goals she may have at the time and it serves no purpose other than to be disposed of in short order.
Nothing worthwhile has ever been earned through haste, and Lorette embodies this in her seemingly boundless patience. She approaches tasks and decision making carefully, not wanting to worsen things with misguided haste. This in turn makes her slow to act. But each choice the woman makes can be felt long after the deed is done.
That limitless patience, however hides a deep-rooted vindictiveness within the woman. All slights, no matter how small are committed to Lorette's memory. Never forgotten and allowed to fester within her heart. She weighs each crime, internally compiling a list of offenses for one and all. The higher the count grows, the harder Lorette works against her foes.
Despite her particularly ruthless methods of dealing with anyone that's crossed her, Lorette is an incredibly honest and dependable individual. Such discipline makes her a nightmare for her foes and that honesty can lead to scathing words, but Lorette understands the virtue of teamwork and can be counted upon in even the most dire of situations.
Never one to shirk duty, the woman finds a lack of drive to be a great offense. Even if dreams are dead, that doesn't mean one cannot find it in themselves to be useful. Sitting around and waiting for Life or Death to do its thing doesn't sit right with her.
Positive Personality Traits: Honest. Disciplined. Efficient. Tenacious
Negative Personality Traits: Arrogant. Self-Serving. Vindictive. Ruthless.
Dislikes: Laziness. Ineptitude. Cowardice. People that don't take their shoes off in the house.
Likes: Ambition. Straight Forwardness. Dedication. Painting.
Fears: Obsolescence.
Character Quirks: Refuses to leave home without a pen. Never know when you're going to need one.
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Name before Death: Lorette Lècuyer. (Posted for clarity. Still unknown.)
Life Before Resurrection:
Ambition had always resided within Lorette. Gnawing at her insides, and driving the woman forward ceaselessly. The entirety of her life was not dictated by the hopes that filled little girls the world over. But an all-consuming desire to achieve.
Needless to say, she was a nightmare in the schoolyard.
Childlike bossiness gave way to adult assertiveness. Petulance and selfishness, instead being refined into the Confidence one would need to see all their dreams reach fruition. Lorette had the entire world in front of her, and still more beyond the stars. A woman with that much ambition, that much determination would surely do great things. Forging ahead, and building a future for herself that would make everyone around her eternally envious.
But instead of all that, Lorette decided to be the worst person imaginable.
Dreams cost money. And money isn't easy to get. At least not through legal channels, though to her credit Lorette did try at first. But building a business from the ground up wasn't easy. And if one wanted to make a profit in the largest possible scale, dirtying your hands was pretty much a requirement.
It wasn't as if she was the only one doing it, anyway. Lorette ran into all sorts of shifty individuals on her way to the top. Predatory Money Lenders. Corporate Executives with at least five different Hitmen on Speed Dial. Trophy Wives that had grown tired of their grossly aging Husbands and wanted to trade them in for a newer model. The usual. Everybody wanted to kill someone, and everybody was expecting to get killed. And so while the market was saturated with individuals that would put a bullet into someone for the right price. The market for people that would take a bullet for you was virtually nonexistent.
But where everyone saw a useless endeavor, Lorette saw an opportunity. Rounding up bodies wasn't as hard as one would think. An overabundance of Assassins in the Corporate Sector meant a lot of people that knew how to fire a gun were looking for work. It started off simply enough. Someone had pissed off the wrong CEO, or Mob Boss, or some Lady that was married to the CEO or Mob Boss, and they needed a few guards to feel safer.
Maybe they'd fucked over the wrong customer. The kind with money and more connections than they'd thought. Maybe they'd ratted out a business partner and expected retaliation. It didn't matter to Lorette. Fear drove people to pay a lot of money just to lessen it a bit, and Lorette was more than happy to prey on that fear.
Naturally, knowing everybody's business came with the territory. Who'd crossed who. Which person was gunning for someone else. Where they lived, where they worked. Where they'd gone into hiding. The only thing that paid more than Fear was information and Lorette's clients knew that.
There was little, if anything that was keeping her from ratting out her clients to their pursuers and she made sure that they well knew it. Protection cost a lot. But the promise to keep her mouth shut cost extra. This behavior didn't exactly make the woman well liked, but who were they going to tell? The Police? Law-abiding Citizens didn't hire Private Security Contractors. And it wasn't as if the Police couldn't be bought out either.
Lorette sold protection, that much was true. But she could destroy to great capacity whenever she so pleased. And that became quite often. Politicians levying taxes that she had no intention of paying, other business hoping to close in on a Market that she'd practically overtaken, customers that considered taking their business elsewhere. She met anything that would hurt her profits with overwhelming aggression. And Lorette wasn't the type of woman to let someone else pull the trigger either. She was more than aware of how many dangers lurked out there, and how many people were willing to put a bullet in her. For free, no less! And so she preferred to be armed at all times.
While she was certainly the morally dubious sort, Lorette didn't lack for courage. Something that was in short supply among the people she did business with. When it came down to it, everyone begged and pleaded for their lives once a gun was pointed at them. No one really wanted to die as they'd lived. Instead, promising to forsake every and anything that got them there in the first place if it meant that they'd be allowed to keep drawing breath. It was all so undignified, and Lorette hated their simpering almost as much as she enjoyed pulling the trigger.
One less coward made the world a better place after all.
And so naturally, it took someone who could be described as less than cowardly to kill Lorette.
She didn't bother to keep her home guarded, though Lorette wasn't foolish enough to leave it unsecured either. One motion sensing camera, and a noisy dog were more than enough to alert her to the presence of the intruder. And she met him with a hail of bullets for his trouble. Lorette made up for her lack of meat shields with the mass of guns she kept stored in her massive home. Both would end up being her downfall.
Once it became clear that the obstinate CEO wasn't going down without a fight, and that she certainly wouldn't let him leave alive it forced the Hitman into a deadly game of cat and mouse. The weapons she'd stashed everywhere ended up helping her foe as much as they did her. And the expansive halls and rooms of her home provided him with ample cover and hiding spaces.
Lorette had always prided herself on her precision and efficiency. She'd never been a hasty woman and did everything to measure her own steps. But it took one misstep to get her killed. At some point there'd been a lull in the gunfire, and Lorette for all her experience had forgotten one simple rule.
And that was to wait.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Perhaps it was the sheer fury at the concept of someone invading HER home and thinking they could just start shooting at her. Maybe she was just tired and mind fog caused her to forget. Whatever the reason, once the dust cleared Lorette popped her head from behind the expensive granite counter in her kitchen and immediately took a bullet to the skull.
It was about as embarrassing a death as a woman could get.
Despite the number of bullets fired off that night, only a single shot to the head did the woman in. Striking her square in the right eye, and exiting from the back of the skull, Lorette would have been impressed by the accuracy of the shot had it not cut her life so short. The fact that it painted the wall and several expensive appliances with her blood probably would have put a damper on her enthusiasm as well. It was over in an instant. A death she never saw coming. Brutally efficient, just the way she liked it.
She wasn't missed. And one could hardly say that any tears were shed for her. Though a few people mourned the loss of the kind of tenacity that had gotten her where it did. Not everyone possessed the sheer fortitude to piss off scores of powerful people and somehow get them to pay for that privilege.
Power vacuums exist to be filled however, and Lorette had left no apparent heirs to her ill-gotten empire. And there were few, if any people that understood the depths of her unsavory knowledge. Nearly every secret that Lorette kept she took with her to the grave. And as a final act of post mortum spite, her Will decreed that every asset she had was to be liquidated and passed over to charity. Not for any altruistic reasons, but solely because she didn't want every person she'd ever screwed over to get their money back. All sales are final wasn't just something she said for fun.
With a gaping hole where a keystone business had once existed, a mass of unemployed killers, and a sudden lack of the protections countless people had befitted from, the Corporate Sector went to shit. Assassinations were in full swing as Lorette's former employees took any job they could and a lot of people wound up missing in the weeks following the woman's death. Politicians. Notable criminals. And of course the usual slew of CEOs who'd dug themselves too deep. Everybody had a gun, and everybody was pointing it at someone else while they waited for them to make the first move. It became one of the largest and most idiotic Mexican Standoffs to ever curse Humanity.
Lorette's ghost could not be reached for a comment, but anyone that knew her was positive that she was laughing from Hell.
That was in 2242. A few scant decades before the Shattering tore the Universe asunder and pushed mankind to the brink of extinction. In a way, Lorette was lucky to miss out on the whole affair. She had no children, and so she'd inadvertently avoided cursing someone to live through the mess as well. But Life, and Death are funny in their way of just absolutely ruining everything for everybody.
Namely, it ruined Lorette's well earned dirt nap. Needless to say, she's not pleased about it.
Life After Resurrection:
She'd washed up on those Cyclopean shores just like anyone else. Groggy, not understanding who she was, and more than a little freaked out. How long she wandered, was anybody's guess. But the people that seemingly appeared from nowhere to collect her certainly behaved as if they'd been waiting for her.
Or, for anyone really. She wasn't particularly special, that much was made abundantly clear. They dragged her in with a few others. Looking as lost and weirdly see through as her. If she had a name, she couldn't recall it. None of them could recall their name. And so they were given numbers until one was sorted out.
The strangers pumped her full of something. Something strange and volatile, but she lacked the presence of mind to stop it. At some point her mind started to piece things together.
Namely, that she'd been dead.
So when a bunch of people started jabbing her with needles and asking questions, she didn't really see much point in trying to stop it. What the Hell else was she going to do? She had no name, and a handful of memories indicating that she'd not only died, but that she hadn't been particularly pleasant to be around when she was alive. A sobering though if there ever was one.
And then something shifted in her. Suddenly, she was a lot less transparent. And suddenly she could feel again.
Pain mostly. A lot of pain. An all-consuming pain. Agony that lit up nerves that hadn't existed moments ago. It was all too real. Too solid. Too alive even though something deep within told her she wasn't, really.
She blacked out, maybe. It was hard to be sure afterwards. But she certainly didn't dream. That hadn't been so pressing at first. She was dead, and suddenly she wasn't. Dreaming would probably come later, when she didn't feel like her skin was being peeled from her body.
That particular thought had been over a decade ago.
She knew the truth now. A great deal of it. And all of it was awful.
She learned, in bits and pieces what she was and what she'd had been. None of it was any good. She knew that she'd dreamt once. Like all people had. That she'd dared to hope. To peer into her own future to make it a reality. And that those dreams had come at the cost of many lives to be realized. In a way she was glad that she no longer dreamed. Nothing good had come of it when she did. Perhaps now, things were better without her ambitions floating around in her skull.
But something deep in her chest gnawed constantly at her, at away at the tattered remains of her souls. She still wanted to. She wanted to dream, just once more. Just to recall what it was to aspire to something greater. And she'd gladly pay any cost to do so, or even foist it onto another pitiful soul. She'd done it before, hadn't she?
If there was one thing about her life worth recalling, it was that she'd had power, for what it was worth then. The power to protect, which she often did. But moreover the power to destroy which she did a lot more of. An odd line to walk if there ever was one. Where she was, had no Gods. What God could ever lay claim to such a bleak place? And Humanity had done its best to forget them. But their names hadn't been forgotten and so she took one for herself. If he existed at all, she was sure he wouldn't mind.
A God of destruction. A God with such fearful power, that his believers would beg for his protection from that which would kill them without remorse. A God that scorched the Earth and made ash of anything that displeased him. Cruel, but clever. His name was Nergal.
And now it was hers.
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Character Theme Inspiration:
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Division γ Blue
"Nergal"
"Nergal"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 143 lbs
Hair Description: Dark Brown. Thickly braided.
Eye Description: Brown.
Complexion: Dark. Even.
Approximate Age of Death: 46
Cause of Death: Bullet through the Right Eye. Exit wound on the back of the skull. Instant Death.
Year of Death: 2242
Place of Death: The City of Aresrora on the planet Unides. Euthenia Star System.
Einherjar Chapter: Aaru
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Surge.
Through channeling the Metaphisum in her body, Nergal is able to conjure shields and bulwarks of various shapes and sizes. The ability is most often used to provide cover for herself and her allies should none reasonably exist. On the support end of things, Nergal can augment her teammate's capabilities. Metaphisum chains shackle her companions to her and feed them a constant source of energy. The chains can also be used offensively to snare and subdue opponents.
Metaphasium seems to have taken residence in Lorette's left arm to a startling degree. Already dark skin rendered even darker, the substance bleeds up nearly to her elbow, rendering the limb inky black. Lorette is rather put off by the whole thing.
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NOTES
Personality:
Lorette Lècuyer is both fiercely ambitious and intelligent, and at first glance seems to be rigid in her bearing and possesses a rather cool demeanor. Past outward glances Lorette has proven to be both patient and kind, speaking openly with any that would ask for her time. Despite her unscrupulous morals, Lorette believes fully in the potential of others and takes great pains to nurture that potential to the fullest in all that serve under her. Anyone can refine themselves into something greater if they lack the drive to do so, and Lorette would rather potential be brought to fruition rather than wasted.
Of course, that is to her own benefit more than anyone else's. Lorette didn't get to the top just by playing nice. Potential is only good if it's being directed in the manner that she sees fit. If that same talent is being used against her, then there's no kindness to be found. Instead, it's considered an obstacle to whatever goals she may have at the time and it serves no purpose other than to be disposed of in short order.
Nothing worthwhile has ever been earned through haste, and Lorette embodies this in her seemingly boundless patience. She approaches tasks and decision making carefully, not wanting to worsen things with misguided haste. This in turn makes her slow to act. But each choice the woman makes can be felt long after the deed is done.
That limitless patience, however hides a deep-rooted vindictiveness within the woman. All slights, no matter how small are committed to Lorette's memory. Never forgotten and allowed to fester within her heart. She weighs each crime, internally compiling a list of offenses for one and all. The higher the count grows, the harder Lorette works against her foes.
Despite her particularly ruthless methods of dealing with anyone that's crossed her, Lorette is an incredibly honest and dependable individual. Such discipline makes her a nightmare for her foes and that honesty can lead to scathing words, but Lorette understands the virtue of teamwork and can be counted upon in even the most dire of situations.
Never one to shirk duty, the woman finds a lack of drive to be a great offense. Even if dreams are dead, that doesn't mean one cannot find it in themselves to be useful. Sitting around and waiting for Life or Death to do its thing doesn't sit right with her.
Positive Personality Traits: Honest. Disciplined. Efficient. Tenacious
Negative Personality Traits: Arrogant. Self-Serving. Vindictive. Ruthless.
Dislikes: Laziness. Ineptitude. Cowardice. People that don't take their shoes off in the house.
Likes: Ambition. Straight Forwardness. Dedication. Painting.
Fears: Obsolescence.
Character Quirks: Refuses to leave home without a pen. Never know when you're going to need one.
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Lorette Lècuyer. (Posted for clarity. Still unknown.)
Life Before Resurrection:
Ambition had always resided within Lorette. Gnawing at her insides, and driving the woman forward ceaselessly. The entirety of her life was not dictated by the hopes that filled little girls the world over. But an all-consuming desire to achieve.
Needless to say, she was a nightmare in the schoolyard.
Childlike bossiness gave way to adult assertiveness. Petulance and selfishness, instead being refined into the Confidence one would need to see all their dreams reach fruition. Lorette had the entire world in front of her, and still more beyond the stars. A woman with that much ambition, that much determination would surely do great things. Forging ahead, and building a future for herself that would make everyone around her eternally envious.
But instead of all that, Lorette decided to be the worst person imaginable.
Dreams cost money. And money isn't easy to get. At least not through legal channels, though to her credit Lorette did try at first. But building a business from the ground up wasn't easy. And if one wanted to make a profit in the largest possible scale, dirtying your hands was pretty much a requirement.
It wasn't as if she was the only one doing it, anyway. Lorette ran into all sorts of shifty individuals on her way to the top. Predatory Money Lenders. Corporate Executives with at least five different Hitmen on Speed Dial. Trophy Wives that had grown tired of their grossly aging Husbands and wanted to trade them in for a newer model. The usual. Everybody wanted to kill someone, and everybody was expecting to get killed. And so while the market was saturated with individuals that would put a bullet into someone for the right price. The market for people that would take a bullet for you was virtually nonexistent.
But where everyone saw a useless endeavor, Lorette saw an opportunity. Rounding up bodies wasn't as hard as one would think. An overabundance of Assassins in the Corporate Sector meant a lot of people that knew how to fire a gun were looking for work. It started off simply enough. Someone had pissed off the wrong CEO, or Mob Boss, or some Lady that was married to the CEO or Mob Boss, and they needed a few guards to feel safer.
Maybe they'd fucked over the wrong customer. The kind with money and more connections than they'd thought. Maybe they'd ratted out a business partner and expected retaliation. It didn't matter to Lorette. Fear drove people to pay a lot of money just to lessen it a bit, and Lorette was more than happy to prey on that fear.
Naturally, knowing everybody's business came with the territory. Who'd crossed who. Which person was gunning for someone else. Where they lived, where they worked. Where they'd gone into hiding. The only thing that paid more than Fear was information and Lorette's clients knew that.
There was little, if anything that was keeping her from ratting out her clients to their pursuers and she made sure that they well knew it. Protection cost a lot. But the promise to keep her mouth shut cost extra. This behavior didn't exactly make the woman well liked, but who were they going to tell? The Police? Law-abiding Citizens didn't hire Private Security Contractors. And it wasn't as if the Police couldn't be bought out either.
Lorette sold protection, that much was true. But she could destroy to great capacity whenever she so pleased. And that became quite often. Politicians levying taxes that she had no intention of paying, other business hoping to close in on a Market that she'd practically overtaken, customers that considered taking their business elsewhere. She met anything that would hurt her profits with overwhelming aggression. And Lorette wasn't the type of woman to let someone else pull the trigger either. She was more than aware of how many dangers lurked out there, and how many people were willing to put a bullet in her. For free, no less! And so she preferred to be armed at all times.
While she was certainly the morally dubious sort, Lorette didn't lack for courage. Something that was in short supply among the people she did business with. When it came down to it, everyone begged and pleaded for their lives once a gun was pointed at them. No one really wanted to die as they'd lived. Instead, promising to forsake every and anything that got them there in the first place if it meant that they'd be allowed to keep drawing breath. It was all so undignified, and Lorette hated their simpering almost as much as she enjoyed pulling the trigger.
One less coward made the world a better place after all.
And so naturally, it took someone who could be described as less than cowardly to kill Lorette.
She didn't bother to keep her home guarded, though Lorette wasn't foolish enough to leave it unsecured either. One motion sensing camera, and a noisy dog were more than enough to alert her to the presence of the intruder. And she met him with a hail of bullets for his trouble. Lorette made up for her lack of meat shields with the mass of guns she kept stored in her massive home. Both would end up being her downfall.
Once it became clear that the obstinate CEO wasn't going down without a fight, and that she certainly wouldn't let him leave alive it forced the Hitman into a deadly game of cat and mouse. The weapons she'd stashed everywhere ended up helping her foe as much as they did her. And the expansive halls and rooms of her home provided him with ample cover and hiding spaces.
Lorette had always prided herself on her precision and efficiency. She'd never been a hasty woman and did everything to measure her own steps. But it took one misstep to get her killed. At some point there'd been a lull in the gunfire, and Lorette for all her experience had forgotten one simple rule.
And that was to wait.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Perhaps it was the sheer fury at the concept of someone invading HER home and thinking they could just start shooting at her. Maybe she was just tired and mind fog caused her to forget. Whatever the reason, once the dust cleared Lorette popped her head from behind the expensive granite counter in her kitchen and immediately took a bullet to the skull.
It was about as embarrassing a death as a woman could get.
Despite the number of bullets fired off that night, only a single shot to the head did the woman in. Striking her square in the right eye, and exiting from the back of the skull, Lorette would have been impressed by the accuracy of the shot had it not cut her life so short. The fact that it painted the wall and several expensive appliances with her blood probably would have put a damper on her enthusiasm as well. It was over in an instant. A death she never saw coming. Brutally efficient, just the way she liked it.
She wasn't missed. And one could hardly say that any tears were shed for her. Though a few people mourned the loss of the kind of tenacity that had gotten her where it did. Not everyone possessed the sheer fortitude to piss off scores of powerful people and somehow get them to pay for that privilege.
Power vacuums exist to be filled however, and Lorette had left no apparent heirs to her ill-gotten empire. And there were few, if any people that understood the depths of her unsavory knowledge. Nearly every secret that Lorette kept she took with her to the grave. And as a final act of post mortum spite, her Will decreed that every asset she had was to be liquidated and passed over to charity. Not for any altruistic reasons, but solely because she didn't want every person she'd ever screwed over to get their money back. All sales are final wasn't just something she said for fun.
With a gaping hole where a keystone business had once existed, a mass of unemployed killers, and a sudden lack of the protections countless people had befitted from, the Corporate Sector went to shit. Assassinations were in full swing as Lorette's former employees took any job they could and a lot of people wound up missing in the weeks following the woman's death. Politicians. Notable criminals. And of course the usual slew of CEOs who'd dug themselves too deep. Everybody had a gun, and everybody was pointing it at someone else while they waited for them to make the first move. It became one of the largest and most idiotic Mexican Standoffs to ever curse Humanity.
Lorette's ghost could not be reached for a comment, but anyone that knew her was positive that she was laughing from Hell.
That was in 2242. A few scant decades before the Shattering tore the Universe asunder and pushed mankind to the brink of extinction. In a way, Lorette was lucky to miss out on the whole affair. She had no children, and so she'd inadvertently avoided cursing someone to live through the mess as well. But Life, and Death are funny in their way of just absolutely ruining everything for everybody.
Namely, it ruined Lorette's well earned dirt nap. Needless to say, she's not pleased about it.
Life After Resurrection:
She'd washed up on those Cyclopean shores just like anyone else. Groggy, not understanding who she was, and more than a little freaked out. How long she wandered, was anybody's guess. But the people that seemingly appeared from nowhere to collect her certainly behaved as if they'd been waiting for her.
Or, for anyone really. She wasn't particularly special, that much was made abundantly clear. They dragged her in with a few others. Looking as lost and weirdly see through as her. If she had a name, she couldn't recall it. None of them could recall their name. And so they were given numbers until one was sorted out.
The strangers pumped her full of something. Something strange and volatile, but she lacked the presence of mind to stop it. At some point her mind started to piece things together.
Namely, that she'd been dead.
So when a bunch of people started jabbing her with needles and asking questions, she didn't really see much point in trying to stop it. What the Hell else was she going to do? She had no name, and a handful of memories indicating that she'd not only died, but that she hadn't been particularly pleasant to be around when she was alive. A sobering though if there ever was one.
And then something shifted in her. Suddenly, she was a lot less transparent. And suddenly she could feel again.
Pain mostly. A lot of pain. An all-consuming pain. Agony that lit up nerves that hadn't existed moments ago. It was all too real. Too solid. Too alive even though something deep within told her she wasn't, really.
She blacked out, maybe. It was hard to be sure afterwards. But she certainly didn't dream. That hadn't been so pressing at first. She was dead, and suddenly she wasn't. Dreaming would probably come later, when she didn't feel like her skin was being peeled from her body.
That particular thought had been over a decade ago.
She knew the truth now. A great deal of it. And all of it was awful.
She learned, in bits and pieces what she was and what she'd had been. None of it was any good. She knew that she'd dreamt once. Like all people had. That she'd dared to hope. To peer into her own future to make it a reality. And that those dreams had come at the cost of many lives to be realized. In a way she was glad that she no longer dreamed. Nothing good had come of it when she did. Perhaps now, things were better without her ambitions floating around in her skull.
But something deep in her chest gnawed constantly at her, at away at the tattered remains of her souls. She still wanted to. She wanted to dream, just once more. Just to recall what it was to aspire to something greater. And she'd gladly pay any cost to do so, or even foist it onto another pitiful soul. She'd done it before, hadn't she?
If there was one thing about her life worth recalling, it was that she'd had power, for what it was worth then. The power to protect, which she often did. But moreover the power to destroy which she did a lot more of. An odd line to walk if there ever was one. Where she was, had no Gods. What God could ever lay claim to such a bleak place? And Humanity had done its best to forget them. But their names hadn't been forgotten and so she took one for herself. If he existed at all, she was sure he wouldn't mind.
A God of destruction. A God with such fearful power, that his believers would beg for his protection from that which would kill them without remorse. A God that scorched the Earth and made ash of anything that displeased him. Cruel, but clever. His name was Nergal.
And now it was hers.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
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code by Ri.a
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Lekiel
Two Thousand Club
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Einherjar Classification: Class 2
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 172cm (5' 8")
Weight: 60kg
Hair Description: Platinum, with strands of gold.
Eye Description: Sapphire Blue
Complexion: Fair
Physical Peculiarities: White, grey gold tattoos along shoulder blades and spine.
Approximate Age of Death: Appears 24
Cause of Death: Rapid Exsanguination
Year of Death: 2110
Place of Death: Neo-Tokyo, Planet Ourinn, Andromeda Galaxy.
Einherjar Chapter: Eljudnir
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim Atunity. Andarta's augments creep in dark rivulets, grasping at her pale skin as they wrap around her feet and thighs before disappearing as they rise up her lithe frame, manifesting once more as ebon metal all throughout her right arm. Her hand can reassemble itself to form an energy blade.
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Personality:
At-a-glance:
❖Cold, dismissive and austere to those she is unfamiliar with.
❖Cold, dismissive, austere and jarringly blunt to those she is familiar with.
❖Possesses a largely analytical mind and can remain calm and calculated even under intense pressure.
Dislikes:
❖Meekness and anyone whom she considers to be weak-willed. Scoffs at those who strive to stand up for anyone and everyone, seeing it as wasted effort. That said, she can put aside her derision if the assignment calls for guarding.
❖She also hates goldfishes, they are weak and useless.
Likes:
❖Andarta gravitates to those she considers to be of strong will; e.g. the oppressed underdog who will fight a losing battle.
❖Acquiring music from The Before. Much of the auditory pleasures in a time of dreamless men are often curated, designed and composed by algorithms to incite the sections of the human brain that involve pleasure and inspiration. The result is horrendous easily forgettable background themes. But it is the only form of music easily acquired. Occasionally, she might come across codexes containing surreal and stirring compositions during her time-offs spent wandering various trading depots. Those are like precious gems to Andarta and well worth the credits paid.
Fears:
❖Forgetting her name.
❖Failing. She has a profound fear of failing or be seen to fail. This does not simply mean she breaks down when she does not complete something, it just means she might become overly obsessed with conquering the hurdle. Her once calculated precision can quickly dissolve into confounding anxiety the moment she starts doubting herself. As such, she usually does everything in her power to make sure such a situation never comes to pass.
❖Feeling. Particularly the lighter buoyant emotions. While impassive most of the time, there are moments where cracks do appear on the surface. It is during these moments that she feels most vulnerable, especially when not alone. This is also the reason why she puts on a severe front. A hardened exterior is a solid anchor. As without it, she feels deeply lost. Even in her life from before, it was not lived as if it were her own. Unwelcomed burdens thrust upon barely adult shoulders. Then just when she was beginning to come to terms with who she really was, death... the silence of the afterlife. Of not existing. It was strangely welcoming. But it was not to last, if even she could measure the passage of time in death. She was bestowed with new life, one that was remarkably similar than the previous. An 'existence' with no other purpose other than what was thrust infront of her.
To be Einherjar.
The constant Purifications were of no help, but she'd long learned not to show emotion. To be affected. Even if they did little more than further shatter the scant fragments of who she should have been.
Character Quirks:
❖She keeps a compact writing surface, made out of a kind of fabric which she has seen in her memory flashes. It was called a notebook, and was a gift from Prime Observer Amiela. In it, are pages upon pages of her name, written in various ink. Some written over so many times the whole page became just a splotch of colour.
❖Also, never let Andarta be indebted to you.
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Name before Death: Aura Soma (She only remembers her first name, though the memory is fickle)
Life Before Resurrection:
To understand Andarta, one must first delve into the far reaches of her past. Underneath her apathetic front, was a very conflicted girl, now woman. Designed not conceived, by her parents for high society, she was trained and taught all her life for one purpose; to be proof of mankind's ability to literally carve and shape their destiny... their future. She was made to one day, wrestle control of her homeworld from the wayward and corrupt political houses. Her mother had built a powerful business empire based upon cutting edge genetic research, and her father, and equally feared politician.
He lived with an extreme code of honor: Liberal governance made people soft, unwilling to strive for progress and achieve the heights that mankind was fully capable of... and deserved. People allowed themselves to be corralled into a false sense of righteousness, one that seemed to lead into all directions but in actuality, led to nowhere. They relied on words and not deeds, and when the time came to stand up for themselves, they were powerless for they had no idea how to work with their hands, to bleed through their pores. Inevitably, when those few who knew to strive reached the top, they realized that they were now lords over a people who believed they had attained everything, though they were but hapless fools. With sweet words, they lulled the masses, but with their hands, the corrupt milked them dry.
It is with this mindset, her father ingrained into a young Aura. There were only two kinds of people in the world, those born to follow, and those who were born to lead the former. All people were mindless sheep, and they needed someone to lead them. An incorruptible leader that only sought progress, at whatever the cost. Any form of weakness will hinder progress and should be left to rot and wallow in their weak-willed filth.
But as it were, while Aura stoically strived to exceed her family's expectations, deep down, she felt that her father's principles though arguably righteous, was twisted in its own way. She was told all her life to always look up, that those 'below' were not even worth a thought; but she had stolen glimpses at them. While her parents looked at the unfortunate in disgust and contempt, she felt pity. Those that they used as 'tools', she felt empathy. But before she could fully make sense of her inner conflict, her life was abruptly ended.
In all, Aura is a perfectionist, always striving to improve herself. Though she has no evil (it's subjective though) intentions, she will stop at nothing to complete her task to the point of being ruthless.
Aura lives stoically by the Heptateuch, although you could say it is more out of ritual than any deep profound appreciation. It keeps the masses in line, and when people accept their place, only then can humanity achieve greatness as a whole.
❖ ❖ ❖
Around the year 2042, reckless governance of the Primary Capitalist Nations resulted in a worldwide conflict that lasted for nearly five years. It was dubbed the Awakening War. Though the salvos eventually stopped firing and the dust settled, the damage had been done. Among the nations most devastated by the war, was Japan. But just like it had a century ago, the Land of the Rising Sun bounced back from the ashes to become a thriving and powerful nation in just over a decade. For hardship was their companion once again, and it made them strong, emerging as one of the leading nations in technological advancement.
Cue the Mirai Eternum Convention and the discovery of the Graviton Threads, Japan became one of humankind's foremost heralds in pushing back the frontiers of deep space. Children could now point into the skies, and truly believe they would be there one day. Within a span of several years, the blooming nation had almost eradicated poverty, leading to a very large upper-middle income demographic. A rich people, of a rich nation. Not unlike many others. When the call for colonists came as the frontier starships charted their way to the distant stars, Japan took to the nearest galaxy. Andromeda. Scores of people filled the shuttles, eager to find ever greener pastures on alien soil. Thus, Neo Tokyo was established.
Mankind was truly a force to behold when they set their minds together.
There was a sudden euphoric sense of boundless possibilities. They were no longer limited by land resources, forced to share a tiny terrestrial planet with other nations. But with the coming of a new generation, born in extreme prosperity, so came a generation that knew no hardship. High individual wealth opened up doors to extreme liberal ideals, adding to the contentment of a large portion of society. They rested on their laurels. Pride and accomplishment became a bane to their new nation. This eventually led to what economists and social philosophers term, the "Nippon Conundrum". An overly content peoples led to lax in governance. It was in this land, that Aura Soma was brought into.
Her parents were the fading minority who were around during the Awakening Wars. Old enough to remember true hardship, and the blood, sweat and sacrifice needed to exhume Neo Japan from the ashes of its past. They saw what humans was capable of, and were severely disappointed at the state it was now in. At that time, Takeda Soma was the governor of Neo Tokyo and he strived to rule his segment of the colony with industrial efficiency; though at times he was accused of being a dictator. Backed by his wife's powerful genetic research conglomerate and efficient (if somewhat cold) governance, his influence was nigh unshakable. But he was a threat. Governor Soma was a raging lion, but he was in a den of wolves.
In recent months, there had been an increasing number of attacks by what the governor deemed as 'terrorists' all over Neo Tokyo. They were armed, and seemed to focus on ransom kidnapping, assault as well as vandalism. Witness accounts claim that the masked men were anarchistic citizens. Federal media hinted at the severe regulations of Governor Soma to be the primary cause of the unrest.
Aura was both the Student Council President and President of the Kyudo club in a prestigious college under the jurisdiction of the Neo-Tokyo colonist government. On the day of her death, the rebel 'terrorists' stormed through her college. They found a group of cowering students hiding out in the school's swimming hall. Aura was already making her escape (as unlike those cowardly fools, she knew they could not hide forever) when the terrorists barged through the doors. However, as she looked at the scene from the backdoor where she was making her escape, Aura did something she would never have done her whole life. She turned back to help those who could not help themselves.
Calling out to the masked men, Aura walked towards them as she told them who she was. Offering a trade, she persuaded them not to harm the junior students and in return, they could take her hostage; surely the daughter of the Governor would fetch a high price. It was the only time in all her life she had disobeyed her parents. It was also the last. As she walked towards the rebels, one of them raised his weapon and fired.
The last thing Aura remembered was flashes of light and excruciating pain exploding all over her body. Her vision began to dim and she felt herself stumbling into the azure waters of the swimming pool.
A splash. . .
then all was dark.
But death did not come quickly. Though she was shot multiple times, all the shots missed her vital organs and she ended up dying due to excessive loss of blood.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the shores of a desolate plane.
Life After Resurrection: She hasn't been really counting the number of Standard Years since she first stepped foot in Eljudnir. The Observers tell her she'd been around for close to twenty. She had first felt an unexplained peace, a burden that had been unwillingly placed upon her shoulders finally lifted. But then it was all shattered in a soul-wrenching instant. Aura had initially rejected her call to be an Einherjar. The feeling of ephemerality was comforting. They let her wallow for a couple of years, keeping her assimilated to the Metaphasium just enough to survive, knowing that she would reject it should she be forced.
And indeed, one of the Observers demanded that she be put in her place. They would force her jaws open, and force it down her throat. Prime Observer Amiela saw differently and stayed their hand. She'd seen something in Aura's memories. She was right.
Andarta eventually accepted her position. Aimless, and not knowing any other way to live, she took to her newfound responsibilities with cold-hearted resolve. She wanted to be the best. Needed to be. And to no surprise, she took to the Assimilation willingly, and proved that she could be so much more.
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Character Theme Inspiration:
Cover Image: Pandora
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Division γ Blue
"ANDARTA"
"ANDARTA"
Einherjar Classification: Class 2
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 172cm (5' 8")
Weight: 60kg
Hair Description: Platinum, with strands of gold.
Eye Description: Sapphire Blue
Complexion: Fair
Physical Peculiarities: White, grey gold tattoos along shoulder blades and spine.
Approximate Age of Death: Appears 24
Cause of Death: Rapid Exsanguination
Year of Death: 2110
Place of Death: Neo-Tokyo, Planet Ourinn, Andromeda Galaxy.
Einherjar Chapter: Eljudnir
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim Atunity. Andarta's augments creep in dark rivulets, grasping at her pale skin as they wrap around her feet and thighs before disappearing as they rise up her lithe frame, manifesting once more as ebon metal all throughout her right arm. Her hand can reassemble itself to form an energy blade.
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NOTES
Personality:
"If you cannot fight for yourself, no one will stand up for you.."
Aura Soma
Aura Soma
At-a-glance:
❖Cold, dismissive and austere to those she is unfamiliar with.
❖Cold, dismissive, austere and jarringly blunt to those she is familiar with.
❖Possesses a largely analytical mind and can remain calm and calculated even under intense pressure.
Dislikes:
❖Meekness and anyone whom she considers to be weak-willed. Scoffs at those who strive to stand up for anyone and everyone, seeing it as wasted effort. That said, she can put aside her derision if the assignment calls for guarding.
❖She also hates goldfishes, they are weak and useless.
Likes:
❖Andarta gravitates to those she considers to be of strong will; e.g. the oppressed underdog who will fight a losing battle.
❖Acquiring music from The Before. Much of the auditory pleasures in a time of dreamless men are often curated, designed and composed by algorithms to incite the sections of the human brain that involve pleasure and inspiration. The result is horrendous easily forgettable background themes. But it is the only form of music easily acquired. Occasionally, she might come across codexes containing surreal and stirring compositions during her time-offs spent wandering various trading depots. Those are like precious gems to Andarta and well worth the credits paid.
Fears:
❖Forgetting her name.
❖Failing. She has a profound fear of failing or be seen to fail. This does not simply mean she breaks down when she does not complete something, it just means she might become overly obsessed with conquering the hurdle. Her once calculated precision can quickly dissolve into confounding anxiety the moment she starts doubting herself. As such, she usually does everything in her power to make sure such a situation never comes to pass.
❖Feeling. Particularly the lighter buoyant emotions. While impassive most of the time, there are moments where cracks do appear on the surface. It is during these moments that she feels most vulnerable, especially when not alone. This is also the reason why she puts on a severe front. A hardened exterior is a solid anchor. As without it, she feels deeply lost. Even in her life from before, it was not lived as if it were her own. Unwelcomed burdens thrust upon barely adult shoulders. Then just when she was beginning to come to terms with who she really was, death... the silence of the afterlife. Of not existing. It was strangely welcoming. But it was not to last, if even she could measure the passage of time in death. She was bestowed with new life, one that was remarkably similar than the previous. An 'existence' with no other purpose other than what was thrust infront of her.
To be Einherjar.
The constant Purifications were of no help, but she'd long learned not to show emotion. To be affected. Even if they did little more than further shatter the scant fragments of who she should have been.
Character Quirks:
❖She keeps a compact writing surface, made out of a kind of fabric which she has seen in her memory flashes. It was called a notebook, and was a gift from Prime Observer Amiela. In it, are pages upon pages of her name, written in various ink. Some written over so many times the whole page became just a splotch of colour.
❖Also, never let Andarta be indebted to you.
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Aura Soma (She only remembers her first name, though the memory is fickle)
Life Before Resurrection:
"Precision of genetic makeup hints at proto-Genus Aurealate intervention. Sequencing Einherjar DNA is extremely difficult and nigh impossible, but we always make the attempt as part of standard procedure. Andarta's Core Resplendent Arrays responded positively to the nucleic dyes, allowing us a significant yet frustratingly minor visual of her genome. How it survived intact in the Soulstream is a matter of debate. Nonetheless, reverse engineering the sequences revealed startling similarities to the PHG Phenotype, WR22814-J-72H-THFR0GHY. The DNA template used by the Aurealates for their paragon fighter-commandos, the Erinyes. Nonetheless, more research needs to be done to confirm if indeed Andarta was the Genetrix Template used by the proto-Genus Aurealate."
~Prime Observer Amiela
~Prime Observer Amiela
To understand Andarta, one must first delve into the far reaches of her past. Underneath her apathetic front, was a very conflicted girl, now woman. Designed not conceived, by her parents for high society, she was trained and taught all her life for one purpose; to be proof of mankind's ability to literally carve and shape their destiny... their future. She was made to one day, wrestle control of her homeworld from the wayward and corrupt political houses. Her mother had built a powerful business empire based upon cutting edge genetic research, and her father, and equally feared politician.
He lived with an extreme code of honor: Liberal governance made people soft, unwilling to strive for progress and achieve the heights that mankind was fully capable of... and deserved. People allowed themselves to be corralled into a false sense of righteousness, one that seemed to lead into all directions but in actuality, led to nowhere. They relied on words and not deeds, and when the time came to stand up for themselves, they were powerless for they had no idea how to work with their hands, to bleed through their pores. Inevitably, when those few who knew to strive reached the top, they realized that they were now lords over a people who believed they had attained everything, though they were but hapless fools. With sweet words, they lulled the masses, but with their hands, the corrupt milked them dry.
It is with this mindset, her father ingrained into a young Aura. There were only two kinds of people in the world, those born to follow, and those who were born to lead the former. All people were mindless sheep, and they needed someone to lead them. An incorruptible leader that only sought progress, at whatever the cost. Any form of weakness will hinder progress and should be left to rot and wallow in their weak-willed filth.
But as it were, while Aura stoically strived to exceed her family's expectations, deep down, she felt that her father's principles though arguably righteous, was twisted in its own way. She was told all her life to always look up, that those 'below' were not even worth a thought; but she had stolen glimpses at them. While her parents looked at the unfortunate in disgust and contempt, she felt pity. Those that they used as 'tools', she felt empathy. But before she could fully make sense of her inner conflict, her life was abruptly ended.
In all, Aura is a perfectionist, always striving to improve herself. Though she has no evil (it's subjective though) intentions, she will stop at nothing to complete her task to the point of being ruthless.
Aura lives stoically by the Heptateuch, although you could say it is more out of ritual than any deep profound appreciation. It keeps the masses in line, and when people accept their place, only then can humanity achieve greatness as a whole.
❖ ❖ ❖
Around the year 2042, reckless governance of the Primary Capitalist Nations resulted in a worldwide conflict that lasted for nearly five years. It was dubbed the Awakening War. Though the salvos eventually stopped firing and the dust settled, the damage had been done. Among the nations most devastated by the war, was Japan. But just like it had a century ago, the Land of the Rising Sun bounced back from the ashes to become a thriving and powerful nation in just over a decade. For hardship was their companion once again, and it made them strong, emerging as one of the leading nations in technological advancement.
Cue the Mirai Eternum Convention and the discovery of the Graviton Threads, Japan became one of humankind's foremost heralds in pushing back the frontiers of deep space. Children could now point into the skies, and truly believe they would be there one day. Within a span of several years, the blooming nation had almost eradicated poverty, leading to a very large upper-middle income demographic. A rich people, of a rich nation. Not unlike many others. When the call for colonists came as the frontier starships charted their way to the distant stars, Japan took to the nearest galaxy. Andromeda. Scores of people filled the shuttles, eager to find ever greener pastures on alien soil. Thus, Neo Tokyo was established.
Mankind was truly a force to behold when they set their minds together.
There was a sudden euphoric sense of boundless possibilities. They were no longer limited by land resources, forced to share a tiny terrestrial planet with other nations. But with the coming of a new generation, born in extreme prosperity, so came a generation that knew no hardship. High individual wealth opened up doors to extreme liberal ideals, adding to the contentment of a large portion of society. They rested on their laurels. Pride and accomplishment became a bane to their new nation. This eventually led to what economists and social philosophers term, the "Nippon Conundrum". An overly content peoples led to lax in governance. It was in this land, that Aura Soma was brought into.
Her parents were the fading minority who were around during the Awakening Wars. Old enough to remember true hardship, and the blood, sweat and sacrifice needed to exhume Neo Japan from the ashes of its past. They saw what humans was capable of, and were severely disappointed at the state it was now in. At that time, Takeda Soma was the governor of Neo Tokyo and he strived to rule his segment of the colony with industrial efficiency; though at times he was accused of being a dictator. Backed by his wife's powerful genetic research conglomerate and efficient (if somewhat cold) governance, his influence was nigh unshakable. But he was a threat. Governor Soma was a raging lion, but he was in a den of wolves.
In recent months, there had been an increasing number of attacks by what the governor deemed as 'terrorists' all over Neo Tokyo. They were armed, and seemed to focus on ransom kidnapping, assault as well as vandalism. Witness accounts claim that the masked men were anarchistic citizens. Federal media hinted at the severe regulations of Governor Soma to be the primary cause of the unrest.
Aura was both the Student Council President and President of the Kyudo club in a prestigious college under the jurisdiction of the Neo-Tokyo colonist government. On the day of her death, the rebel 'terrorists' stormed through her college. They found a group of cowering students hiding out in the school's swimming hall. Aura was already making her escape (as unlike those cowardly fools, she knew they could not hide forever) when the terrorists barged through the doors. However, as she looked at the scene from the backdoor where she was making her escape, Aura did something she would never have done her whole life. She turned back to help those who could not help themselves.
Calling out to the masked men, Aura walked towards them as she told them who she was. Offering a trade, she persuaded them not to harm the junior students and in return, they could take her hostage; surely the daughter of the Governor would fetch a high price. It was the only time in all her life she had disobeyed her parents. It was also the last. As she walked towards the rebels, one of them raised his weapon and fired.
The last thing Aura remembered was flashes of light and excruciating pain exploding all over her body. Her vision began to dim and she felt herself stumbling into the azure waters of the swimming pool.
A splash. . .
then all was dark.
But death did not come quickly. Though she was shot multiple times, all the shots missed her vital organs and she ended up dying due to excessive loss of blood.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the shores of a desolate plane.
Life After Resurrection: She hasn't been really counting the number of Standard Years since she first stepped foot in Eljudnir. The Observers tell her she'd been around for close to twenty. She had first felt an unexplained peace, a burden that had been unwillingly placed upon her shoulders finally lifted. But then it was all shattered in a soul-wrenching instant. Aura had initially rejected her call to be an Einherjar. The feeling of ephemerality was comforting. They let her wallow for a couple of years, keeping her assimilated to the Metaphasium just enough to survive, knowing that she would reject it should she be forced.
And indeed, one of the Observers demanded that she be put in her place. They would force her jaws open, and force it down her throat. Prime Observer Amiela saw differently and stayed their hand. She'd seen something in Aura's memories. She was right.
Andarta eventually accepted her position. Aimless, and not knowing any other way to live, she took to her newfound responsibilities with cold-hearted resolve. She wanted to be the best. Needed to be. And to no surprise, she took to the Assimilation willingly, and proved that she could be so much more.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Cover Image: Pandora
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code by Ri.a
Last edited:
Redacted 3
Doughnut
🖤
Last edited by a moderator:
revior
The Iseguy
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 187cm
Weight: 109kg
Hair Description: Black dreadlocks.
Eye Description: Clear Blue
Complexion: Dark
Physical Peculiarities: Dark veins can be seen on parts of his body, likely due to the incomplete and unstable assimilation with Metaphasium.
Approximate Age of Death: 43
Cause of Death: Asphyxiation
Year of Death: 2025
Place of Death: In orbit of Pluto, Milky Way.
Einherjar Chapter: Aaru
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Eidolon
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Personality: Carefree, aloof, and more or less a complete nihilist, Hades does whatever he wants whenever he pleases, within reasons, of course. He'll still listen to orders and he'll still complete the jobs assigned to him, after all, how sweet can life be without bitterness? One of these days he'll die, and this time he won't be coming back. Might as well enjoy all that life has to offer while he can, bitterness and sweetness and sourness and spiciness and saltiness, all the flavors life has to offer.
On the downside, while he does get things done, he doesn't particularly care how they get done. At times, he may, on a whim, chooses to take the more 'interesting' routes in completing the job regardless of its efficiency, which usually results in fights, lots of fights, something Hades appears to enjoy despite the fact that they more often than not get him into deep trouble and even came close to getting permanently killed once or twice. His lack of forethought and whimsical nature makes him a bit of a black sheep amongst his Einherjar peers.
Dislikes: Boredom, Pointless Suffering, Corruption
Likes: Good Food, Good Booze, Good Women, Poetry, Anything to do with Samurais
Fears: The Void of Space
Character Quirks: Prefers bladed weaponry, especially of the single-edged curved swords variety. Nothing to do with tactical advantages, of course, it's only because he thought they're 'cool'.
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Name before Death: Johannes Ludwig
Life Before Resurrection: It was supposed to be the first manned flight to Pluto, to the furthest reaches of the solar system. They were the best of the best, all twelve of them, including Johannes who was one of the engineers for this flight. With this, all of the system would be explored and who knows what lies further beyond. There was never a single doubt in his mind that mankind was the master of their own destiny, that through unity and the human spirit they can forge a path even across the void of space and traverse the stars. Nothing could have survived here, in this empty sea of starlight. Well, perhaps the cockroaches can, but for most of what was on earth, this was not somewhere they could inhabit, much less traverse. Earth was like an enclosed island surrounded by nothing but the ocean, one that will kill should any set their foot in. Yet, there they were, floating across the void, towards a destination that could only be seen in the skies so many years ago, seen and never thought to be reachable. Mankind had forged a path where there were none. That's right, they were the masters of their own destinies... What a laugh.
He was sure he had done everything right. He made sure to check everything, checked and double-checked and triple-checked. He had done everything he can and more to make sure things went according to plan. And yet, something happened. Johannes wasn't sure what, he didn't even have time to register it. All he remembered was shaking, lots of shaking, and there was fire, maybe even explosions. The last thing he remembered was being hurled into the void of space, his body helplessly spinning as he desperately tried to counteract the momentum with the propulsion unit.
He was laughing as he floated across the void, the fuel for the propulsion unit long ran dried, the oxygen in his suit running low. He knew. He knew that he wasn't making it back. He laughed, with Pluto in view, he laughed like a mad man, maybe he had become a mad man. In the end, he didn't even figure out what happened, and he's going to die not knowing anything and unable to do a single thing about it. He had no say, no control over it. Out in the void, where not even friction or gravity is present, where his feet could not even find ground to walk on, he came to a conclusion: He wasn't in control of anything, least of all destiny. He continued laughing. He could not help but laugh. No one can hear him laugh in the void, and soon, as his oxygen ran out, even he couldn't hear himself anymore.
Life After Resurrection: It's been three? Three and a half years since the Dreamwatcher found Hades washed up on the shores of the Oblivion Sea. Being dead was pretty sweet, no problems, no worries, no nothing. Not exactly a party but it was peaceful, to say the least. Still, living ain't so bad, so long as he gets to stay warm and eat some good food, Hades didn't have much of a problem with it. Since they went through the trouble and brought him back to life, Hades figured that he might as well enjoy being alive again. Still, most of the Dreamwatches and Einherjars aren't too fond of him, probably because of his, say...... whimsical behaviors, like that one time he made use of his phasing abilities to take a peek in the women's changing room, or that time when he decided that it would be a good idea to lace one of the more ornery Dreamwatcher's lunch with laxatives. The list of his less than favorable antics goes on. And maybe that's why, that once he's done with basic training, they went and dumped him in the shithole that is Aaru.
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Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim: (OPTIONAL)
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Division γ Blue
"Hades"
"Hades"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 187cm
Weight: 109kg
Hair Description: Black dreadlocks.
Eye Description: Clear Blue
Complexion: Dark
Physical Peculiarities: Dark veins can be seen on parts of his body, likely due to the incomplete and unstable assimilation with Metaphasium.
Approximate Age of Death: 43
Cause of Death: Asphyxiation
Year of Death: 2025
Place of Death: In orbit of Pluto, Milky Way.
Einherjar Chapter: Aaru
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Eidolon
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NOTES
Personality: Carefree, aloof, and more or less a complete nihilist, Hades does whatever he wants whenever he pleases, within reasons, of course. He'll still listen to orders and he'll still complete the jobs assigned to him, after all, how sweet can life be without bitterness? One of these days he'll die, and this time he won't be coming back. Might as well enjoy all that life has to offer while he can, bitterness and sweetness and sourness and spiciness and saltiness, all the flavors life has to offer.
On the downside, while he does get things done, he doesn't particularly care how they get done. At times, he may, on a whim, chooses to take the more 'interesting' routes in completing the job regardless of its efficiency, which usually results in fights, lots of fights, something Hades appears to enjoy despite the fact that they more often than not get him into deep trouble and even came close to getting permanently killed once or twice. His lack of forethought and whimsical nature makes him a bit of a black sheep amongst his Einherjar peers.
Dislikes: Boredom, Pointless Suffering, Corruption
Likes: Good Food, Good Booze, Good Women, Poetry, Anything to do with Samurais
Fears: The Void of Space
Character Quirks: Prefers bladed weaponry, especially of the single-edged curved swords variety. Nothing to do with tactical advantages, of course, it's only because he thought they're 'cool'.
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Johannes Ludwig
Life Before Resurrection: It was supposed to be the first manned flight to Pluto, to the furthest reaches of the solar system. They were the best of the best, all twelve of them, including Johannes who was one of the engineers for this flight. With this, all of the system would be explored and who knows what lies further beyond. There was never a single doubt in his mind that mankind was the master of their own destiny, that through unity and the human spirit they can forge a path even across the void of space and traverse the stars. Nothing could have survived here, in this empty sea of starlight. Well, perhaps the cockroaches can, but for most of what was on earth, this was not somewhere they could inhabit, much less traverse. Earth was like an enclosed island surrounded by nothing but the ocean, one that will kill should any set their foot in. Yet, there they were, floating across the void, towards a destination that could only be seen in the skies so many years ago, seen and never thought to be reachable. Mankind had forged a path where there were none. That's right, they were the masters of their own destinies... What a laugh.
He was sure he had done everything right. He made sure to check everything, checked and double-checked and triple-checked. He had done everything he can and more to make sure things went according to plan. And yet, something happened. Johannes wasn't sure what, he didn't even have time to register it. All he remembered was shaking, lots of shaking, and there was fire, maybe even explosions. The last thing he remembered was being hurled into the void of space, his body helplessly spinning as he desperately tried to counteract the momentum with the propulsion unit.
He was laughing as he floated across the void, the fuel for the propulsion unit long ran dried, the oxygen in his suit running low. He knew. He knew that he wasn't making it back. He laughed, with Pluto in view, he laughed like a mad man, maybe he had become a mad man. In the end, he didn't even figure out what happened, and he's going to die not knowing anything and unable to do a single thing about it. He had no say, no control over it. Out in the void, where not even friction or gravity is present, where his feet could not even find ground to walk on, he came to a conclusion: He wasn't in control of anything, least of all destiny. He continued laughing. He could not help but laugh. No one can hear him laugh in the void, and soon, as his oxygen ran out, even he couldn't hear himself anymore.
Life After Resurrection: It's been three? Three and a half years since the Dreamwatcher found Hades washed up on the shores of the Oblivion Sea. Being dead was pretty sweet, no problems, no worries, no nothing. Not exactly a party but it was peaceful, to say the least. Still, living ain't so bad, so long as he gets to stay warm and eat some good food, Hades didn't have much of a problem with it. Since they went through the trouble and brought him back to life, Hades figured that he might as well enjoy being alive again. Still, most of the Dreamwatches and Einherjars aren't too fond of him, probably because of his, say...... whimsical behaviors, like that one time he made use of his phasing abilities to take a peek in the women's changing room, or that time when he decided that it would be a good idea to lace one of the more ornery Dreamwatcher's lunch with laxatives. The list of his less than favorable antics goes on. And maybe that's why, that once he's done with basic training, they went and dumped him in the shithole that is Aaru.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim: (OPTIONAL)
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code by Ri.a
Last edited:
BLK
ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ!
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'2" (187 Centimeters)
Weight: 155 Pounds (2.2268 Kilograms)
Hair Description: Dense longer cut, light brown.
Eye Description: Dark blue.
Complexion: Light, Pale White.
Physical Peculiarities: Small tattoo of the date and time of his death on his left wrist.
Approximate Age of Death: 25.
Cause of Death: Hypothermia.
Year of Death: 2143.
Place of Death: Novovalkhov, PA-99-N2 "Tierra Nueva", Andromeda Galaxy.
Einherjar Chapter: Kayangan
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Recombinant
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Personality: Lev Adronikov likes to think he's a simple person; He just wants to enjoy himself and he enjoys when others do as well. Almost hopelessly optimistic, positivity will always find itself creeping into Lev's voice no matter the situation. He often finds himself saying things like, 'It could be worse,' 'At least that didn't happen,' and many other overplayed cancelations for when the worst-case scenario happens. Of course, he hasn't been lost on the irony of his newfound lack of death, and has taken a liking to cracking jokes about not being dead. Or not entirely dead, at least.
Still, he isn't so naive to think that just smiling and saying a few words make everything alright. In Lev's eyes a positive attitude is often the easiest way to get something done. People do better when they feel happier after all, and it's nice to be able to turn to someone for some quick positive relief.
Lev is also by no means a leader. He shrinks away from that sort of responsibility. It is already almost too much for him to try to cheer people up and trying to direct them is really just too much for Lev. He wants to do everything he can, but he is also aware of him limits. Besides, it would be pretty disappointing for Lev to let others down.
Dislikes: Silence, being alone.
Likes: Cooking, conversation, solving complex functions.
Fears: Learning his past, letting those he cares about down.
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Name before Death: Lev Andronikov
Life Before Resurrection: Lev Andronikov, named after his grandfather, was born in a small Russian-speaking mining colony long after the planet served any use. His parents ran a small spaceport for passing ships where, with his two older brothers, regulations were mere suggestions and ship crews numbers one, or sometimes less. His earliest years were pretty standard for anyone in the Novovalkhov Outpost. He was raised in the common nursery with the other children where they all learned not to enjoy life together, as unhappiness was almost mandatory somewhere this isolated. But Lev was different. He was a bright and bubbly child who wanted nothing more than to play with his peers.
While he aged into school, his passion moved to his studies. His older brother Andrei always said that if anyone was smart enough to get off their planet it was Lev. So naturally, to make his family and friends happy, he dedicated himself to reaching that goal. His math and science scores were well above what was expected of the children in the colony. By the time he reaching secondary school he was taking some of the most advanced math classes in the colony's teaching modules. But he still had his home life as well.For repairs Lev was delegated to repairing the computers and engines, as the two were becoming increasingly connected around those parts, and he was the only one in the family who had any real knowledge on either of the machines.
His teenage years were similar. He worked, studied, and didn't really pay much mind to things around him. School came and went, and before long Lev was working with his brothers full-time. The work wasn't fun, but at first it was tolerable. Then, things started to wear on him. Doing the same thing every day didn't seem to bring him any closer to leaving. It kept him tied down and docile. Slowly, his spirit started to crumble around him. He no longer worked for the sake of working, but to distract himself from his reality. He found that when he poured over a ship's innards it kept him busy. He could forget where he was. Sometimes he even fell into childish daydreams. He wasn't an overeducated under serviced worker in a dying outpost. No, while he worked on the ships his brothers secured he was a freighter carrying some cargo that would get him arrested. He could become a genius technician who hailed from the old-earth, who knew of the horrors that occurred there.
Eventually, far too many years later at the age of 25 he was finally too worn down to care. After work one day he simply hid himself among the cargo of a shipping vessel waiting to depart. When it launched he felt a rush he hadn't known in years. He felt like a child learning again. He was finally doing what he'd dreamed of for all those years. Even if this turned out horribly, which it would, Lev was convinced that he would at least make his way off his planet. But that wasn't the case. In an almost comical twist, the interior seal on the ship was faulty and depressurized the cargo bay. This lowered the ship's internal temperature so quickly that Lev could hear ice forming inside. The box had frozen shut, and try as he may, it wouldn't budge. While his blood flow slowed and his heart began to fight to pump, the ship turned back towards his home world. If he had held out a few more minutes he may have survived. Reentry might have warmed him back up. But it didn't, and in the end, Lev couldn't even get the death he wanted.
Life After Resurrection: Lev was rather confused by the circumstances of his resurrection. Any reasonable person would have been shocked. For a moment he even wondered why this had happened to him. But, such thoughts weren't worth having. After the peaceful softness of death, things seemed to go so fast. He found himself being filled with some chemical-- or that is what he thought it was-- that was supposed to change him. He found himself caught up in the Dreamwatch. Things went about as smoothly as they ever had for Lev one he had a little bit of guidance, though.
Joining the Einherjar proved to be all he needed to get back on his feet. Lev welcome the stability and order provided by the Dreamwatch. He hit life running by dying on promptly after completing basic training. But, his first mission wasn't his worst mission. Things would go downhill many times, and to date Lev has died a total of three times, two of which were as a member of the Dreamwatch. But, Lev loved his new profession. It afforded him both the opportunity to see a new world, and to be someone for the first time in his life. He was important no matter where he went. Even when he died and was ridiculed by some high ranking officer he felt powerful. He began to crave that power. Now, Lev has made it his personal goal to climb whatever ladder he may need to so he can finally feel what it's like to sit on top.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Character Theme Inspiration:
"Let's Go Crazy" by Prince & The Revolution
[/div]
[/div][/div]
[div class=textbox]
Division γ Blue
"Peitharchia"
"Peitharchia"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'2" (187 Centimeters)
Weight: 155 Pounds (2.2268 Kilograms)
Hair Description: Dense longer cut, light brown.
Eye Description: Dark blue.
Complexion: Light, Pale White.
Physical Peculiarities: Small tattoo of the date and time of his death on his left wrist.
Approximate Age of Death: 25.
Cause of Death: Hypothermia.
Year of Death: 2143.
Place of Death: Novovalkhov, PA-99-N2 "Tierra Nueva", Andromeda Galaxy.
Einherjar Chapter: Kayangan
[/div]
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Recombinant
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: Lev Adronikov likes to think he's a simple person; He just wants to enjoy himself and he enjoys when others do as well. Almost hopelessly optimistic, positivity will always find itself creeping into Lev's voice no matter the situation. He often finds himself saying things like, 'It could be worse,' 'At least that didn't happen,' and many other overplayed cancelations for when the worst-case scenario happens. Of course, he hasn't been lost on the irony of his newfound lack of death, and has taken a liking to cracking jokes about not being dead. Or not entirely dead, at least.
Still, he isn't so naive to think that just smiling and saying a few words make everything alright. In Lev's eyes a positive attitude is often the easiest way to get something done. People do better when they feel happier after all, and it's nice to be able to turn to someone for some quick positive relief.
Lev is also by no means a leader. He shrinks away from that sort of responsibility. It is already almost too much for him to try to cheer people up and trying to direct them is really just too much for Lev. He wants to do everything he can, but he is also aware of him limits. Besides, it would be pretty disappointing for Lev to let others down.
Dislikes: Silence, being alone.
Likes: Cooking, conversation, solving complex functions.
Fears: Learning his past, letting those he cares about down.
[/div]
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Lev Andronikov
Life Before Resurrection: Lev Andronikov, named after his grandfather, was born in a small Russian-speaking mining colony long after the planet served any use. His parents ran a small spaceport for passing ships where, with his two older brothers, regulations were mere suggestions and ship crews numbers one, or sometimes less. His earliest years were pretty standard for anyone in the Novovalkhov Outpost. He was raised in the common nursery with the other children where they all learned not to enjoy life together, as unhappiness was almost mandatory somewhere this isolated. But Lev was different. He was a bright and bubbly child who wanted nothing more than to play with his peers.
While he aged into school, his passion moved to his studies. His older brother Andrei always said that if anyone was smart enough to get off their planet it was Lev. So naturally, to make his family and friends happy, he dedicated himself to reaching that goal. His math and science scores were well above what was expected of the children in the colony. By the time he reaching secondary school he was taking some of the most advanced math classes in the colony's teaching modules. But he still had his home life as well.For repairs Lev was delegated to repairing the computers and engines, as the two were becoming increasingly connected around those parts, and he was the only one in the family who had any real knowledge on either of the machines.
His teenage years were similar. He worked, studied, and didn't really pay much mind to things around him. School came and went, and before long Lev was working with his brothers full-time. The work wasn't fun, but at first it was tolerable. Then, things started to wear on him. Doing the same thing every day didn't seem to bring him any closer to leaving. It kept him tied down and docile. Slowly, his spirit started to crumble around him. He no longer worked for the sake of working, but to distract himself from his reality. He found that when he poured over a ship's innards it kept him busy. He could forget where he was. Sometimes he even fell into childish daydreams. He wasn't an overeducated under serviced worker in a dying outpost. No, while he worked on the ships his brothers secured he was a freighter carrying some cargo that would get him arrested. He could become a genius technician who hailed from the old-earth, who knew of the horrors that occurred there.
Eventually, far too many years later at the age of 25 he was finally too worn down to care. After work one day he simply hid himself among the cargo of a shipping vessel waiting to depart. When it launched he felt a rush he hadn't known in years. He felt like a child learning again. He was finally doing what he'd dreamed of for all those years. Even if this turned out horribly, which it would, Lev was convinced that he would at least make his way off his planet. But that wasn't the case. In an almost comical twist, the interior seal on the ship was faulty and depressurized the cargo bay. This lowered the ship's internal temperature so quickly that Lev could hear ice forming inside. The box had frozen shut, and try as he may, it wouldn't budge. While his blood flow slowed and his heart began to fight to pump, the ship turned back towards his home world. If he had held out a few more minutes he may have survived. Reentry might have warmed him back up. But it didn't, and in the end, Lev couldn't even get the death he wanted.
Life After Resurrection: Lev was rather confused by the circumstances of his resurrection. Any reasonable person would have been shocked. For a moment he even wondered why this had happened to him. But, such thoughts weren't worth having. After the peaceful softness of death, things seemed to go so fast. He found himself being filled with some chemical-- or that is what he thought it was-- that was supposed to change him. He found himself caught up in the Dreamwatch. Things went about as smoothly as they ever had for Lev one he had a little bit of guidance, though.
Joining the Einherjar proved to be all he needed to get back on his feet. Lev welcome the stability and order provided by the Dreamwatch. He hit life running by dying on promptly after completing basic training. But, his first mission wasn't his worst mission. Things would go downhill many times, and to date Lev has died a total of three times, two of which were as a member of the Dreamwatch. But, Lev loved his new profession. It afforded him both the opportunity to see a new world, and to be someone for the first time in his life. He was important no matter where he went. Even when he died and was ridiculed by some high ranking officer he felt powerful. He began to crave that power. Now, Lev has made it his personal goal to climb whatever ladder he may need to so he can finally feel what it's like to sit on top.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
"Let's Go Crazy" by Prince & The Revolution
[/div]
[/div][/div]
code by Ri.a
Withheld
Foster
Inheritor
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[div class=textbox]
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi
Height: 5ft 10
Weight: 82 kg
Hair Description: Dark brown, verging on black.
Eye Description: Hazel.
Complexion: Fair.
Physical Peculiarities: A tattoo printed across Fletcher’s back depicting a cobra coiled around three arrows and two small plates of carbon fiber surround his eyes.
Approximate Age of Death: 22
Cause of Death: Severed jugular.
Year of Death: 2117
Place of Death: Omega camp, Proxima Centauri b, Alpha Centauri.
Einherjar Chapter:Tengoku. [/div]
[div class=textbox]
Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade. Fletcher’s augments have completely replaced his hands and forearms with jet black metal coming to an abrupt halt at his elbows. The metaphasium has the ability to form three weapon variants which Fletcher has designated bolt, marksman and railgun. Bolt is essentially a handgun (Hah, hand-gun) form and fires low caliber energy rounds at a respectable rate that works well for close to medium range engagements. Marksman is Fletcher’s go to form and functions as an energy DMR, providing powerful semi automatic damage at medium to long range. Railgun is, funnily enough, a hulking plasma railgun. Railgun is incredibly energy intensive and as such must be used sparingly, literally splitting Fletcher’s forearm in two to make room for the weapon. Able to engage at extreme distances the high velocity rounds fired by the weapon are mildly explosive in nature and will create a small explosion on contact as well as decimating the target. Railgun requires a short charge up time before it can be fired.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Personality: At-a-glance:
Jaunty, humorous and compassionate to a fault despite what he’ll tell you.
Hardly what you’d expect from a sniper Fletcher is about as approachable as a Einherjar can be.
Smarter than he lets on Fletcher has an eye for detail and is a reliable friend and ally to those who can stand his chattering.
Dislikes: Selfishness, arrogance, those who don’t value life.
Talking business, he may owe his new line of work his second chance but he was never really one for rules and regulations. He does try to follow protocol to the best of his abilities despite this but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.
Drones, horrible impersonal method of killing. No artistry.
Likes: People who aren’t afraid to show a bit of humanity and laugh a little. In this line of work you need every excuse you can get.
Nature, be it plants, animals or whatever kind of xeno-fauna he comes across.
A fine kill. If it's worth killing its worth killing right don’t you think?
Fears: Losing his humanity and becoming little more than a cog in the machine.
Having to make choices that go against his own morales for the sake of being a Einherjar. Sometimes keeping the peace is a difficult task and dire measures must be taken for the greater good. Fletcher just prays he doesn’t have to be the one to pull the trigger when the time comes.
Deep water. Call it childish if you want but he hates being so far out of his element. Even his love for nature struggles against the endless crushing depths of the deep ocean.
Character Quirks: Has a thing for more traditionalist weapons, such as crossbows and swords and will go out of his way to collect aniques if at all possible for display purposes.
A surprisingly talented artist Fletcher enjoys sketching the likeness of his hunts in his free time, both recent and those he can recall from his shattered past. He’s not fussy about what he draws it on and will just as happily use digital as good ole paper if he can his hands on it.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Name before Death: Fletcher Ayton
Life Before Resurrection: Fletcher owes his existence to Steven and Alice Ayton, members of Omega colony, a relatively small settlement that could once have been found resting on Alpha Centauri. Made up of colonists hailing from the new empire of Great Britain it was established in the hopes that Alpha Centauri could become a thriving home for mankind with an emphasis on becoming a powerful bastion that would secure Britain’s place amongst the stars. In the hopes of finding the ideal place to begin the arduous task of populating a new planet several groups of carefully selected individuals were sent to different regions of it to set up camp. Steven was one of the groups designated medical officers and Alice was on security, a simple precaution in case the local wildlife turned out to be a little more of a handful than expected. Upon arrival on Alpha Centauri Fletcher was only four years old and like everyone else in Omega colony settled into his new life pretty swiftly once the basics had been set up. For the longest while things went well, Omega colony was one of the most prosperous settlers on Alpha Centauri and grew at a faster rate than its counterparts. After completing basic education Fletcher began training to become a security officer under the watchful eye of his mother, a stern but kind hearted woman. It was with her that he learnt the basics of using firearms and discipline, the latter of which he wasn’t particularly fond of. Considering the relatively safe nature of the local wildlife security had a lot of time on their hands and would often end up being sent out to hunt game in an attempt to spice up the colony’s bland diet provided by the greenhouses. It was whilst out on these hunts that Fletcher really gained an appreciation for nature’s little quirks, you spend enough time sitting in a clump of moss and you start to notice things you hadn’t before. The sound of insects, barely audible over the gusts of wind flowing through the trees. The texture of the plants beneath your fingers. A creature unaware it’s taking its final breath before you take it from this world with a well placed round through the skull. Circle of life. That was where his father came in, being a doctor he understood the value of life more than anyone. He insured that Fletcher wouldn’t kill without mindlessly, that every pull of a trigger was purposeful. With a combination of his mother’s skills and his father’s ideals the young man soon proved himself as a skillful marksman and a valuable asset to the colony. Eventually he was even transported to the other Alpha Centauri settlements to help them out with a mixture of issues, mostly hostile creatures getting a little close for comfort or deterring criminal activities. Of course the good times could never last. As it turns out 18 years on Alpha Centauri wasn’t enough to have uncovered all of her secrets and the colonies came under threat from a new source. A previously unknown species began to emerge from the ground around Omega colony, roughly the size of a wolf but more reptilian in nature with metallic scales covering its entire form these creatures proved to be highly aggressive. It turns out they had been hibernating all these years only to suddenly emerge as one to feed before their mating season. And after the success of the colony the most abundant food source was, you guessed it, humans. They attacked with such force and numbers that Omega was overwhelmed before help from the other colonists could arrive. Considering the small amount of security officers available the battle swiftly became a bloodbath with little hope of escape, families torn to shreds in their own homes. Standing atop the security station roof Fletcher had both a clear view of the carnage and a loaded rifle but his efforts to repel the beasts were futile, it took a dozen well placed rounds to down just one and in that time the others could kill dozens in a flash of razor sharp claws. Soon it was all he could do to try and put his friends and family out of their misery as their flesh was torn from their bodies, many of them still alive and screaming. Had they had the might of a fully developed security team it was possible that Omega may have stood a chance but the people here had grown contented and as such there had never been any need until now. As night began to fall and the metallic scent of blood filled the air Fletcher cursed their arrogance, what fools they had been to consider themselves masters of this world and why? Because they’d set up a few measly camps?
With nobody left alive on the ground the metallic creatures turned their gaze on Fletcher’s perch, bloodlust shining in their eyes. Scrabbling up the sides of the building with ease they were on the young man in a heartbeat, their gore covered jaws snapping inches from his face as he emptied the last of his rounds into the crowd in an effort to hold them off. It wouldn’t last, he knew that. When he heard the click indicating he was dry he didn’t try and run, instead he hurled his rifle to the ground and took one last look at the remains of the only home he’d ever known, gutted and blood splattered. Scanning the scene he found what he was looking for, the tattered remains of his parents, still holding on to one another even in death. It should have been the last thing he ever saw because it was just then that one of the beasts closed it’s jaws around his throat and his world went dark. By the time the other colonists arrived at Omega the creatures had vanished, their spawning complete they had returned to their underground lairs to hibernate. The incident was a kick in the teeth for the entire empire and today Omega camp stands as a memorial to all the lives lost in the attack. At least it served as warning for future colonists, all future endeavours came prepared for anything, better to be cautious than torn apart in your own bed after all.
Life After Resurrection:Returning from the dead wasn’t actually much of a shock for Fletcher, he’d always been inclined towards the concept of reincarnation when he was alive. Or at least that would have been the case had he been able to recall his previous ideals from the shattered world that was his memories. After washing up on the shore it was all he could do to lay there with the waves gently lapping at his feet, mind desperately trying to fill in the gaps of his own existence. It was only after the dawn began to creep over the sea that a word came back to him. A name. Fletcher. It was all he had so he clung to it, claiming at his own. Soon after he was collected by a pair of individuals who seemed to know a lot more about him than he did, claiming they would take him to where he could fulfill his new destiny. With no other options than to retreat back into the water he willing followed them through the misty veil that had descended over his mind and allowed them to go about a process they seemed alarmingly familiar with, almost as if they had done this many times before. Without the sense of will to stop it the mysterious figures performed some kind of procedure on him, pumping his body full of an alien substance that replaced the numbing cold that had been consuming him with a terrible fire as if suddenly the blood in his veins had come to a boil. Suddenly death didn’t seem so bad.
That had only been the first leg of his new journey, a simple taste of the trials and hardships to come. They moulded him from an empty shell of a man into the weapon they needed him to be, a tool that they could be proud to call Einherjar. As he trained bits of his old life came back to him in the form of dreams and the more he remembered the more difficult it became for him to continue down this path. It was a fine line to balance, remembering the man he’d once been whilst not rejecting his new identity. He endeavoured to do honour both sides of his fate and make a difference in the way that only those reborn from the water could. So much had changed since his days on Alpha Centauri, the once thriving humanity now lay defeated on its knees in the wake of the collapse and in such a world hope was hard to come by. But not gone. That much he was sure of. The Dreamwatch had the potential to be that hope so he put his all into training and soon proved himself to be an extremely talented marksman and exceptional trainee. For the final stretch of his training Fletcher has found himself on Tengoku. With six years now behind him he has been informed that soon he will be joining the infamous Division Gamma, γ, Blue. [/div]
[div class=textbox]
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim: [/div][/div][/div]
[div class=textbox]
Division γ Blue
"WODEN - SNIPER SPECIALIST"
"WODEN - SNIPER SPECIALIST"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi
Height: 5ft 10
Weight: 82 kg
Hair Description: Dark brown, verging on black.
Eye Description: Hazel.
Complexion: Fair.
Physical Peculiarities: A tattoo printed across Fletcher’s back depicting a cobra coiled around three arrows and two small plates of carbon fiber surround his eyes.
Approximate Age of Death: 22
Cause of Death: Severed jugular.
Year of Death: 2117
Place of Death: Omega camp, Proxima Centauri b, Alpha Centauri.
Einherjar Chapter:Tengoku. [/div]
[div class=textbox]
APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade. Fletcher’s augments have completely replaced his hands and forearms with jet black metal coming to an abrupt halt at his elbows. The metaphasium has the ability to form three weapon variants which Fletcher has designated bolt, marksman and railgun. Bolt is essentially a handgun (Hah, hand-gun) form and fires low caliber energy rounds at a respectable rate that works well for close to medium range engagements. Marksman is Fletcher’s go to form and functions as an energy DMR, providing powerful semi automatic damage at medium to long range. Railgun is, funnily enough, a hulking plasma railgun. Railgun is incredibly energy intensive and as such must be used sparingly, literally splitting Fletcher’s forearm in two to make room for the weapon. Able to engage at extreme distances the high velocity rounds fired by the weapon are mildly explosive in nature and will create a small explosion on contact as well as decimating the target. Railgun requires a short charge up time before it can be fired.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: At-a-glance:
Jaunty, humorous and compassionate to a fault despite what he’ll tell you.
Hardly what you’d expect from a sniper Fletcher is about as approachable as a Einherjar can be.
Smarter than he lets on Fletcher has an eye for detail and is a reliable friend and ally to those who can stand his chattering.
Dislikes: Selfishness, arrogance, those who don’t value life.
Talking business, he may owe his new line of work his second chance but he was never really one for rules and regulations. He does try to follow protocol to the best of his abilities despite this but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.
Drones, horrible impersonal method of killing. No artistry.
Likes: People who aren’t afraid to show a bit of humanity and laugh a little. In this line of work you need every excuse you can get.
Nature, be it plants, animals or whatever kind of xeno-fauna he comes across.
A fine kill. If it's worth killing its worth killing right don’t you think?
Fears: Losing his humanity and becoming little more than a cog in the machine.
Having to make choices that go against his own morales for the sake of being a Einherjar. Sometimes keeping the peace is a difficult task and dire measures must be taken for the greater good. Fletcher just prays he doesn’t have to be the one to pull the trigger when the time comes.
Deep water. Call it childish if you want but he hates being so far out of his element. Even his love for nature struggles against the endless crushing depths of the deep ocean.
Character Quirks: Has a thing for more traditionalist weapons, such as crossbows and swords and will go out of his way to collect aniques if at all possible for display purposes.
A surprisingly talented artist Fletcher enjoys sketching the likeness of his hunts in his free time, both recent and those he can recall from his shattered past. He’s not fussy about what he draws it on and will just as happily use digital as good ole paper if he can his hands on it.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Fletcher Ayton
Life Before Resurrection: Fletcher owes his existence to Steven and Alice Ayton, members of Omega colony, a relatively small settlement that could once have been found resting on Alpha Centauri. Made up of colonists hailing from the new empire of Great Britain it was established in the hopes that Alpha Centauri could become a thriving home for mankind with an emphasis on becoming a powerful bastion that would secure Britain’s place amongst the stars. In the hopes of finding the ideal place to begin the arduous task of populating a new planet several groups of carefully selected individuals were sent to different regions of it to set up camp. Steven was one of the groups designated medical officers and Alice was on security, a simple precaution in case the local wildlife turned out to be a little more of a handful than expected. Upon arrival on Alpha Centauri Fletcher was only four years old and like everyone else in Omega colony settled into his new life pretty swiftly once the basics had been set up. For the longest while things went well, Omega colony was one of the most prosperous settlers on Alpha Centauri and grew at a faster rate than its counterparts. After completing basic education Fletcher began training to become a security officer under the watchful eye of his mother, a stern but kind hearted woman. It was with her that he learnt the basics of using firearms and discipline, the latter of which he wasn’t particularly fond of. Considering the relatively safe nature of the local wildlife security had a lot of time on their hands and would often end up being sent out to hunt game in an attempt to spice up the colony’s bland diet provided by the greenhouses. It was whilst out on these hunts that Fletcher really gained an appreciation for nature’s little quirks, you spend enough time sitting in a clump of moss and you start to notice things you hadn’t before. The sound of insects, barely audible over the gusts of wind flowing through the trees. The texture of the plants beneath your fingers. A creature unaware it’s taking its final breath before you take it from this world with a well placed round through the skull. Circle of life. That was where his father came in, being a doctor he understood the value of life more than anyone. He insured that Fletcher wouldn’t kill without mindlessly, that every pull of a trigger was purposeful. With a combination of his mother’s skills and his father’s ideals the young man soon proved himself as a skillful marksman and a valuable asset to the colony. Eventually he was even transported to the other Alpha Centauri settlements to help them out with a mixture of issues, mostly hostile creatures getting a little close for comfort or deterring criminal activities. Of course the good times could never last. As it turns out 18 years on Alpha Centauri wasn’t enough to have uncovered all of her secrets and the colonies came under threat from a new source. A previously unknown species began to emerge from the ground around Omega colony, roughly the size of a wolf but more reptilian in nature with metallic scales covering its entire form these creatures proved to be highly aggressive. It turns out they had been hibernating all these years only to suddenly emerge as one to feed before their mating season. And after the success of the colony the most abundant food source was, you guessed it, humans. They attacked with such force and numbers that Omega was overwhelmed before help from the other colonists could arrive. Considering the small amount of security officers available the battle swiftly became a bloodbath with little hope of escape, families torn to shreds in their own homes. Standing atop the security station roof Fletcher had both a clear view of the carnage and a loaded rifle but his efforts to repel the beasts were futile, it took a dozen well placed rounds to down just one and in that time the others could kill dozens in a flash of razor sharp claws. Soon it was all he could do to try and put his friends and family out of their misery as their flesh was torn from their bodies, many of them still alive and screaming. Had they had the might of a fully developed security team it was possible that Omega may have stood a chance but the people here had grown contented and as such there had never been any need until now. As night began to fall and the metallic scent of blood filled the air Fletcher cursed their arrogance, what fools they had been to consider themselves masters of this world and why? Because they’d set up a few measly camps?
With nobody left alive on the ground the metallic creatures turned their gaze on Fletcher’s perch, bloodlust shining in their eyes. Scrabbling up the sides of the building with ease they were on the young man in a heartbeat, their gore covered jaws snapping inches from his face as he emptied the last of his rounds into the crowd in an effort to hold them off. It wouldn’t last, he knew that. When he heard the click indicating he was dry he didn’t try and run, instead he hurled his rifle to the ground and took one last look at the remains of the only home he’d ever known, gutted and blood splattered. Scanning the scene he found what he was looking for, the tattered remains of his parents, still holding on to one another even in death. It should have been the last thing he ever saw because it was just then that one of the beasts closed it’s jaws around his throat and his world went dark. By the time the other colonists arrived at Omega the creatures had vanished, their spawning complete they had returned to their underground lairs to hibernate. The incident was a kick in the teeth for the entire empire and today Omega camp stands as a memorial to all the lives lost in the attack. At least it served as warning for future colonists, all future endeavours came prepared for anything, better to be cautious than torn apart in your own bed after all.
Life After Resurrection:Returning from the dead wasn’t actually much of a shock for Fletcher, he’d always been inclined towards the concept of reincarnation when he was alive. Or at least that would have been the case had he been able to recall his previous ideals from the shattered world that was his memories. After washing up on the shore it was all he could do to lay there with the waves gently lapping at his feet, mind desperately trying to fill in the gaps of his own existence. It was only after the dawn began to creep over the sea that a word came back to him. A name. Fletcher. It was all he had so he clung to it, claiming at his own. Soon after he was collected by a pair of individuals who seemed to know a lot more about him than he did, claiming they would take him to where he could fulfill his new destiny. With no other options than to retreat back into the water he willing followed them through the misty veil that had descended over his mind and allowed them to go about a process they seemed alarmingly familiar with, almost as if they had done this many times before. Without the sense of will to stop it the mysterious figures performed some kind of procedure on him, pumping his body full of an alien substance that replaced the numbing cold that had been consuming him with a terrible fire as if suddenly the blood in his veins had come to a boil. Suddenly death didn’t seem so bad.
That had only been the first leg of his new journey, a simple taste of the trials and hardships to come. They moulded him from an empty shell of a man into the weapon they needed him to be, a tool that they could be proud to call Einherjar. As he trained bits of his old life came back to him in the form of dreams and the more he remembered the more difficult it became for him to continue down this path. It was a fine line to balance, remembering the man he’d once been whilst not rejecting his new identity. He endeavoured to do honour both sides of his fate and make a difference in the way that only those reborn from the water could. So much had changed since his days on Alpha Centauri, the once thriving humanity now lay defeated on its knees in the wake of the collapse and in such a world hope was hard to come by. But not gone. That much he was sure of. The Dreamwatch had the potential to be that hope so he put his all into training and soon proved himself to be an extremely talented marksman and exceptional trainee. For the final stretch of his training Fletcher has found himself on Tengoku. With six years now behind him he has been informed that soon he will be joining the infamous Division Gamma, γ, Blue. [/div]
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim: [/div][/div][/div]
Last edited by a moderator:
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InsaneAsylum
The Chocobo Champion
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'4
Weight: 130
Hair Description: Hip length raven black hair.
Eye Description: Big strawberry red eyes.
Complexion: Fair Skinned
Physical Peculiarities: Una's eyes are assumed to be some side-effect of being reborn, as she's certain her eyes were never red before.
Approximate Age of Death: 19
Cause of Death: Hypoxia and Acidosis and Cardiac arrest. (aka: Drowning)
Year of Death: 1941
Place of Death: Hawaii, Earth, Milky Way
Einherjar Chapter: Eljudnir
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Galvode
Khaliunaa normally uses her enhanced strength to excel in hand to hand combat in ways others cannot. Being so small, normally the power is unexpected, allowing her to take out anyone who gets to close quite quickly. Otherwise, the strength is just to carry bigger, deadlier weapons into battle. Any time Una strains her muscles, you can see her veins bulge more than normal as metaphasium runs through them. When she hardens her body to protect herself, the protected portion are encased in hardened black metal.
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Personality: Una is one of the most self absorbed people you will ever meet. Every time she opens her mouth, she finds a way to make it about her. Una recognizes this about herself, but sees it was a positive trait. The reason she's so self absorbed isn't that she sees everyone else as worthless or insignificant, it's that she sees herself as the most important piece of the universe's puzzle. Being as great as she possibly can consumes Una's daily thoughts. She'll silently compare herself to everyone she meets, and if she finds them 'superior' in any way, she'll work to surpass them with her own strength. Of course, Una is also very competitive, never letting someone one up her just for the sake of one upping her. It's almost childish how much she cares about winning. Nonetheless, this attitude gives her the power to power through numerous obstacles put before her.
Unfortunately, she can't handle losing well. Being defeated, losing, failing, whatever it's called leads Una to throw brief tantrums as she angrily tries to piece together why she failed. Sometimes she'll be pissed simply because she couldn't meet the standards she sets for herself. These standards are usually high, and more difficult than simply completing whatever task she's been assigned. However, after her bout of rage has ended, the failure won't bother her again. She'll tell you she's more than confident she won't lose in the same way again.
Una loves praise. Being told how great she is, or that she's done a good job means a lot to her. She often has trouble distinguishing between sarcastic compliments and genuine ones however, so she simply treats them all as genuine positivity. The one thing Una appreciates the most in her life, however, are her friends. Even though she doesn't treat them as well as she should, she'll go a long way for them if they ask. Hell, she may even apologize to them from time to time if she pisses them off. Overall, Una is just an overconfident girl who often forgets to care about the people around her.
Dislikes: Artificial Intelligence, Scented Candles, Vegetables, Blondes
Likes: Stars, Spaceships, Fireworks, Animals, Dancing
Fears: Oceans, Rats, Inferiority
Character Quirks: One way Khaliunaa expresses her happiness is by doing a little dance. The more joyous the occasion, the more involved the dance.
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Name before Death: Khaliunaa Bayanbold
Life Before Resurrection: Khaliunaa's parents immigrants. They traveled from Mongolia to the United States to for her father's work. There in America Khaliunaa was born, smack-dab in the middle of the country in an area called the Mid-West. Growing up, Una found her parents fighting often. her father's work was going downhill. Being so young, Una didn't quite see the depth of it all, but she could tell that her parents were rarely happy. By the time Una was in middle school, she had a decent idea of why they were so unhappy. They had come to a new country because of the promised success, but it didn't work out, and now they had totally lost their luxurious way of life. Khaliuna's mother now worked as a house cleaner, and her father still struggled to keep the company he was apart of afloat. During Khaliuna's two years of middle school, she went to three different schools. In all three she played sports like soccer, basketball, and volleyball. Somehow, Khaliunaa managed to be quite excellent at all three. She was the fastest at her school, was great at dribbling the basketball, and could jump high as well. To top it off, Una was taller than most girls her age at this point. By the time highschool started, she was already quite popular.
On Una's first day of school, she got into a fight. It wasn't over anything important. Apparently some blonde girl thought she looked stupid with her hair so long, and voice her opinion. Una didn't appreciate her rudeness and the girls traded blows, and Una ended up in the principles office. Una later found out the girl's name was Sydney, and she quickly came to be Una's least favorite person through highschool. As Una rose to popularity through her athletics and beauty, Sydney did the same. The two were fierce rivals, despite being so similar. However, as highschool progressed, Una found herself falling behind. She had stopped growing, stuck at 5'4. Sydney was more than six feet tall. Una didn't get any athletic scholarships for sports, despite needing them to afford a higher education. Sydney received them from some of the top schools in the country. To put it simply Una lost the competition. With her parents unable to send her to college, and with Una having not saved up enough, Khaliunaa say one way to get the money she needed, and at the same time get a higher education.
Joining the Navy was a big step for Una. She'd never thought too hard about life without her parents, friends, and what it'd be like to put her life on the line. Plus with tensions running incredibly high across the world, her parents were worried she'd end up in combat. It was a risk Una was willing to take. She had resolved to get a good job one day to prove to her parents that she that she was capable. After everything they'd wen through, it'd make them happy to see her successful. It'd also look good once she got famous, because somehow she'd find a way to get rich. Una envisioned herself in a huge mansion with a hot actor as a husband. Of course, her parents would live in the mansion too. They deserved some pampering after going through so much stress here in America.
A year later, Una found herself stationed in Hawaii on the U.S.S Arizona. She'd made several close friends during her time in the Navy. The people she worked with everyday as a rescue swimmer had become some of her closest friends, and the people she trusted the most. For once in Una's life, she wasn't constantly comparing herself to everyone. She was content with who she was. It was a good feeling, better than anything she'd been before. Minutes after thinking about all of this, her ship was hit by a bomb. Normally, the ship would be able to handle being hit by a bomb or two, but this bomb had hit a power magazine, triggering a greater explosion. Una wasn't killed by the explosion, but she and several others were sent into the ocean, with the ship sinking right above them. Una had been trained to be able to survive falling into the ocean. Never before had she ever thought she'd have so much debris pushing her farther down. Una never made it back to the surface before she died.
Life After Resurrection: It felt like Una had awoken from a brief nap when she awoken on the shore of the Oblivion Sea. However at the same time, it felt as if she had awoken from the longest sleep she had ever slept. She didn't remember anything, not even her own name for a time. To this day, Una is still convinced that this is some sort of fucked up joke of an afterlife. The fact that she didn't recognize a single thing in Eljudnir didn't help. Hell, the name Eljudnir sounded like it came straight out of hell. But for Una, the hardest part about living in this new world wasn't learning that she had literally died already centuries ago, it was that she could barely hope to understand the technology and history of the world. Perhaps if she had her own memories to compare it to, she could understand, but instead she was left with a bunch of terms that all sounded like a different language. Knowing she was likely the dumbest person out there was a hard pill to swallow. The only solace she had was in the Dreamcatchers, who devoted countless hours to getting Khaliunaa accustomed to her new life.
It took nearly two years for Una to truly become accustomed to Eljudnir. All the while the dream-watchers slowly conditioned and trained her to what they called an Einherjar. The idea of being a personal soldier to some organization she cared nothing about disgusted her, but she figured that this was her best chance to do something with her new life. if she could become the best Einherjar, would it even matter if she didn't know who she was? Una didn't think it would matter, however, becoming the best looked as if it'd take quite awhile. Watching the more veteran Einherjars intimidated her a bit, but at the same time, it excited her to think that she'd be better than them one day. Despite having been struggling as an initiate for awhile, she was designated to join Division Gamma, γ, Blue. She had heard that the leader of that was a ruthless woman, but also extremely skilled. She was the perfect target to surpass.
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Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
[/div]
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Division γ Blue
"The Morrighan"
"The Morrighan"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'4
Weight: 130
Hair Description: Hip length raven black hair.
Eye Description: Big strawberry red eyes.
Complexion: Fair Skinned
Physical Peculiarities: Una's eyes are assumed to be some side-effect of being reborn, as she's certain her eyes were never red before.
Approximate Age of Death: 19
Cause of Death: Hypoxia and Acidosis and Cardiac arrest. (aka: Drowning)
Year of Death: 1941
Place of Death: Hawaii, Earth, Milky Way
Einherjar Chapter: Eljudnir
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Galvode
Khaliunaa normally uses her enhanced strength to excel in hand to hand combat in ways others cannot. Being so small, normally the power is unexpected, allowing her to take out anyone who gets to close quite quickly. Otherwise, the strength is just to carry bigger, deadlier weapons into battle. Any time Una strains her muscles, you can see her veins bulge more than normal as metaphasium runs through them. When she hardens her body to protect herself, the protected portion are encased in hardened black metal.
[/div]
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NOTES
Personality: Una is one of the most self absorbed people you will ever meet. Every time she opens her mouth, she finds a way to make it about her. Una recognizes this about herself, but sees it was a positive trait. The reason she's so self absorbed isn't that she sees everyone else as worthless or insignificant, it's that she sees herself as the most important piece of the universe's puzzle. Being as great as she possibly can consumes Una's daily thoughts. She'll silently compare herself to everyone she meets, and if she finds them 'superior' in any way, she'll work to surpass them with her own strength. Of course, Una is also very competitive, never letting someone one up her just for the sake of one upping her. It's almost childish how much she cares about winning. Nonetheless, this attitude gives her the power to power through numerous obstacles put before her.
Unfortunately, she can't handle losing well. Being defeated, losing, failing, whatever it's called leads Una to throw brief tantrums as she angrily tries to piece together why she failed. Sometimes she'll be pissed simply because she couldn't meet the standards she sets for herself. These standards are usually high, and more difficult than simply completing whatever task she's been assigned. However, after her bout of rage has ended, the failure won't bother her again. She'll tell you she's more than confident she won't lose in the same way again.
Una loves praise. Being told how great she is, or that she's done a good job means a lot to her. She often has trouble distinguishing between sarcastic compliments and genuine ones however, so she simply treats them all as genuine positivity. The one thing Una appreciates the most in her life, however, are her friends. Even though she doesn't treat them as well as she should, she'll go a long way for them if they ask. Hell, she may even apologize to them from time to time if she pisses them off. Overall, Una is just an overconfident girl who often forgets to care about the people around her.
Dislikes: Artificial Intelligence, Scented Candles, Vegetables, Blondes
Likes: Stars, Spaceships, Fireworks, Animals, Dancing
Fears: Oceans, Rats, Inferiority
Character Quirks: One way Khaliunaa expresses her happiness is by doing a little dance. The more joyous the occasion, the more involved the dance.
[/div]
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Khaliunaa Bayanbold
Life Before Resurrection: Khaliunaa's parents immigrants. They traveled from Mongolia to the United States to for her father's work. There in America Khaliunaa was born, smack-dab in the middle of the country in an area called the Mid-West. Growing up, Una found her parents fighting often. her father's work was going downhill. Being so young, Una didn't quite see the depth of it all, but she could tell that her parents were rarely happy. By the time Una was in middle school, she had a decent idea of why they were so unhappy. They had come to a new country because of the promised success, but it didn't work out, and now they had totally lost their luxurious way of life. Khaliuna's mother now worked as a house cleaner, and her father still struggled to keep the company he was apart of afloat. During Khaliuna's two years of middle school, she went to three different schools. In all three she played sports like soccer, basketball, and volleyball. Somehow, Khaliunaa managed to be quite excellent at all three. She was the fastest at her school, was great at dribbling the basketball, and could jump high as well. To top it off, Una was taller than most girls her age at this point. By the time highschool started, she was already quite popular.
On Una's first day of school, she got into a fight. It wasn't over anything important. Apparently some blonde girl thought she looked stupid with her hair so long, and voice her opinion. Una didn't appreciate her rudeness and the girls traded blows, and Una ended up in the principles office. Una later found out the girl's name was Sydney, and she quickly came to be Una's least favorite person through highschool. As Una rose to popularity through her athletics and beauty, Sydney did the same. The two were fierce rivals, despite being so similar. However, as highschool progressed, Una found herself falling behind. She had stopped growing, stuck at 5'4. Sydney was more than six feet tall. Una didn't get any athletic scholarships for sports, despite needing them to afford a higher education. Sydney received them from some of the top schools in the country. To put it simply Una lost the competition. With her parents unable to send her to college, and with Una having not saved up enough, Khaliunaa say one way to get the money she needed, and at the same time get a higher education.
Joining the Navy was a big step for Una. She'd never thought too hard about life without her parents, friends, and what it'd be like to put her life on the line. Plus with tensions running incredibly high across the world, her parents were worried she'd end up in combat. It was a risk Una was willing to take. She had resolved to get a good job one day to prove to her parents that she that she was capable. After everything they'd wen through, it'd make them happy to see her successful. It'd also look good once she got famous, because somehow she'd find a way to get rich. Una envisioned herself in a huge mansion with a hot actor as a husband. Of course, her parents would live in the mansion too. They deserved some pampering after going through so much stress here in America.
A year later, Una found herself stationed in Hawaii on the U.S.S Arizona. She'd made several close friends during her time in the Navy. The people she worked with everyday as a rescue swimmer had become some of her closest friends, and the people she trusted the most. For once in Una's life, she wasn't constantly comparing herself to everyone. She was content with who she was. It was a good feeling, better than anything she'd been before. Minutes after thinking about all of this, her ship was hit by a bomb. Normally, the ship would be able to handle being hit by a bomb or two, but this bomb had hit a power magazine, triggering a greater explosion. Una wasn't killed by the explosion, but she and several others were sent into the ocean, with the ship sinking right above them. Una had been trained to be able to survive falling into the ocean. Never before had she ever thought she'd have so much debris pushing her farther down. Una never made it back to the surface before she died.
Life After Resurrection: It felt like Una had awoken from a brief nap when she awoken on the shore of the Oblivion Sea. However at the same time, it felt as if she had awoken from the longest sleep she had ever slept. She didn't remember anything, not even her own name for a time. To this day, Una is still convinced that this is some sort of fucked up joke of an afterlife. The fact that she didn't recognize a single thing in Eljudnir didn't help. Hell, the name Eljudnir sounded like it came straight out of hell. But for Una, the hardest part about living in this new world wasn't learning that she had literally died already centuries ago, it was that she could barely hope to understand the technology and history of the world. Perhaps if she had her own memories to compare it to, she could understand, but instead she was left with a bunch of terms that all sounded like a different language. Knowing she was likely the dumbest person out there was a hard pill to swallow. The only solace she had was in the Dreamcatchers, who devoted countless hours to getting Khaliunaa accustomed to her new life.
It took nearly two years for Una to truly become accustomed to Eljudnir. All the while the dream-watchers slowly conditioned and trained her to what they called an Einherjar. The idea of being a personal soldier to some organization she cared nothing about disgusted her, but she figured that this was her best chance to do something with her new life. if she could become the best Einherjar, would it even matter if she didn't know who she was? Una didn't think it would matter, however, becoming the best looked as if it'd take quite awhile. Watching the more veteran Einherjars intimidated her a bit, but at the same time, it excited her to think that she'd be better than them one day. Despite having been struggling as an initiate for awhile, she was designated to join Division Gamma, γ, Blue. She had heard that the leader of that was a ruthless woman, but also extremely skilled. She was the perfect target to surpass.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
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code by Ri.a
I.EVie
New Member
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual
Height: 184cm | 6'1"
Weight: 75kg | 161lbs
Hair Description: Short & swept back. The kind of black that seems to absorb all light, with hints of silver strands if you squint.
Eye Description: Red and striking in a glinting-evilly-in-the-dark sort of way.
Complexion: Basically Paper
Physical Peculiarities: A thin scar that stretches around his neck like a choker.
Approximate Age of Death: Early 20s
Cause of Death: Decapitation
Year of Death: 1862
Place of Death: Ou Kai Plains (China), Planet Earth, Milky Way Galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Tengoku
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim
Xin's hands are more metaphasium than human flesh, something clear to see from how they can stretch and morph like molten iron, blood and muscle looking more like burning embers beneath his silvery skin. He most often warps them into jagged, ring-like blades, having a preference for close combat, but will "throw" them around if the need arises; his range is not yet too great, though, considering that he can't exactly detach his hands.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Personality: Xin is a man who walks through life as if it's a bad game with no exit button and a needlessly long play time. Careless, idle, blasé... other than the occasional excitement he displays in combat, it seems like he is stuck in a constant state of boredom. This, combined with his talent for riling people up without breaking a sweat (both purposely and otherwise), many view Xin as a troublemaker.
Yet, those close to him will realize, often to their surprise, that beyond his at-times menacing appearance, Xin is a rather childlike soul. While capable of cunning and cruelty, he rarely exercises those traits unless his missions call for it, choosing to operate in a straightforward and transparent manner while claiming it is "too taxing to think".
Xin is hardly prone to getting attached to someone or obsessing over things. He does not view his current life as his own. However, in the case that he does form a close relationship, something which has yet to happen since his resurrection, he is extremely protective of the people he considers his and could easily sacrifice himself for their sake, just like the Deity with whom he shares a title. While it may seem opposite in his day-to-day attitude, Xin is one of undying will and fierce soul, though it seems so far that this cold, robotic new world will never light his fire.
Dislikes: Too Much Work (Annoying), Too Little Work (Boring), Tengoku, Guns, Naggy People
Likes: Children, Occasional Peace, Combat, Fizzy Drinks (Best of Modern Invention), Speedy Vehicles (Faster The Better)
Fears: His Memories - they seem to be filled with terrible moments, every one of which make his head spin and throat close up. Not only is it unpleasant, having traumatic war flashbacks is the last thing he needs in combat, so Xin prefers to remember as little as possible.
Loss & Grieving - the despair of helpless watching his loved ones draw a torturous final breath, the painful way his heart clenches as he weeps over their lifeless bodies... no matter how much Purification he undergoes, he will never forget.
Character Quirks: Clicks his tongue a lot when annoyed, for everything from minor inconveniences to major obstacles.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Name Before Death: Wu Xin
Life Before Resurrection: Rural China, Beginning of the Taiping Rebellion
The village of Chui was a simple place full of simple people. People who worried more about the pesky coyotes that stole their hens and the size of their next harvest than money or power or politics. In that boring little society he lived in, Wu Xin was considered an oddity. A boy who was too quick on his feet, too tricky with his words, with eyes that shined too brightly for the dull colors that surrounded him. They did not hate him. But he did not belong.
Where he did belong was with Yi, the only other person in the tribe who lit up like he did in conversations about lands that lay beyond their reach. They would lie on grassy hills or river banks to waste the days away together, as far from the others as they dared to venture. The older boy would tell him stories of the cities, of the army and Xin would be awestruck. The more he thought about them, the more he wanted to see those things that only existed in his fantasies. And he would see them, indeed, in the worst possible scenario.
- they are calling out for me. now, even now, they are screaming -
It had been a beautiful day. Xin had wanted to go swimming and Yi was always one to oblige him. But they had to be back early that day — it had been a village elder's birthday or something to that effect. They laughed and joked on their way back, as always, ever so carefree. Their laughter died slowly as the wisps of smoke entered their vision.
What they saw that day, the horrors that were committed against their families and friends, were things that could not be described in words. When he saw his sister being dragged, screaming and crying, Xin had tried to run to her. If Yi hadn't held him down and forced him to hide, that would have been the tragic end of his short life. They watched their homes burn down to the ground amidst the dastardly cries of their brethen, forcing themselves to swallow down their own sobs for the fear that they might be caught.
Alas, they survived. Dead inside, perhaps, but alive. They were two lost souls for a long while until the Qing army came by to "clean" after the disasters their enemies wreaked. While Xin was too young, Yi was allowed to join the army once they arrived at the city. For a short few years, Xin worked as an errand boy for a brothel, forced to watch a new kind of depravity altogether. He followed after Yi as soon as he could.
The only light in his life since the loss of his family was the new comrades he met through the army, all with their own terrible stories to tell. They, along with Yi, were like brothers to him. But one by one, he lost them too.
- taste of iron is heavy on my tongue. look me in the eyes and answer me truly; am I human still? -
With every loss that broke his heart, Xin thrived more and more in war. So much so that he scared himself. He lost himself in the hatred of his enemies and lived through the pain of their deaths. The death of Yi was the straw that broke the camel's back... Xin became a real killing machine. He lived on off nothing but sheer will, working himself to the bone.
The death of his physical self arrived the same way the death of his heart did — the ravaging of a village and the suffering of children. The boys were crying over their dead mother, so absorbed in their grief that the man swinging a sword over their head went unnoticed. Perhaps it was the sudden, striking empathy that he felt for those boys. Xin allowed himself to be separated from the troop and captured. The last thing he thought before his head was removed from his body and hung on walls as an example was that Yi would think him a complete fool for what he did.
And so ended Wu Xin, a fire trampled to its death, against its valiant efforts to burn as bright as it was destined... or at least, that's how it seemed then.
Life After Resurrection: If Xin could remember what dreaming was, he would have thought that was what was going on the moment he woke up on the shores of the Oblivion Sea. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember much of anything at all. He adapted fast, though. Maybe it was just his nature. Maybe it was because he had such few years in his previous go at life that he never really had a time to become fixed in his world view. Or, maybe it was because to the Xin with barely an understanding of what he himself was, it did not matter what kind of world he was reborn into since he would have to learn everything, anyway.
Whatever it was, in the short two years that he'd been taken in by the Dreamwatch, the only problem Xin has had in getting used to his new role was his lack of familiarity with guns and the migraine-inducing flashbacks that made him a regular for Purification. His training was otherwise fine.
Until they decided to throw him into Tengoku where literally all he had to do was look at someone to make them flinch and obey. Xin finds his current station about as boring as his first arrival to this world was interesting and can't wait to be doing something else.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Character Theme Inspiration:
[/div]
[/div][/div]
[div class=textbox]
Division γ Blue
"Nezha"
"Nezha"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual
Height: 184cm | 6'1"
Weight: 75kg | 161lbs
Hair Description: Short & swept back. The kind of black that seems to absorb all light, with hints of silver strands if you squint.
Eye Description: Red and striking in a glinting-evilly-in-the-dark sort of way.
Complexion: Basically Paper
Physical Peculiarities: A thin scar that stretches around his neck like a choker.
Approximate Age of Death: Early 20s
Cause of Death: Decapitation
Year of Death: 1862
Place of Death: Ou Kai Plains (China), Planet Earth, Milky Way Galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Tengoku
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim
Xin's hands are more metaphasium than human flesh, something clear to see from how they can stretch and morph like molten iron, blood and muscle looking more like burning embers beneath his silvery skin. He most often warps them into jagged, ring-like blades, having a preference for close combat, but will "throw" them around if the need arises; his range is not yet too great, though, considering that he can't exactly detach his hands.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: Xin is a man who walks through life as if it's a bad game with no exit button and a needlessly long play time. Careless, idle, blasé... other than the occasional excitement he displays in combat, it seems like he is stuck in a constant state of boredom. This, combined with his talent for riling people up without breaking a sweat (both purposely and otherwise), many view Xin as a troublemaker.
Yet, those close to him will realize, often to their surprise, that beyond his at-times menacing appearance, Xin is a rather childlike soul. While capable of cunning and cruelty, he rarely exercises those traits unless his missions call for it, choosing to operate in a straightforward and transparent manner while claiming it is "too taxing to think".
Xin is hardly prone to getting attached to someone or obsessing over things. He does not view his current life as his own. However, in the case that he does form a close relationship, something which has yet to happen since his resurrection, he is extremely protective of the people he considers his and could easily sacrifice himself for their sake, just like the Deity with whom he shares a title. While it may seem opposite in his day-to-day attitude, Xin is one of undying will and fierce soul, though it seems so far that this cold, robotic new world will never light his fire.
Dislikes: Too Much Work (Annoying), Too Little Work (Boring), Tengoku, Guns, Naggy People
Likes: Children, Occasional Peace, Combat, Fizzy Drinks (Best of Modern Invention), Speedy Vehicles (Faster The Better)
Fears: His Memories - they seem to be filled with terrible moments, every one of which make his head spin and throat close up. Not only is it unpleasant, having traumatic war flashbacks is the last thing he needs in combat, so Xin prefers to remember as little as possible.
Loss & Grieving - the despair of helpless watching his loved ones draw a torturous final breath, the painful way his heart clenches as he weeps over their lifeless bodies... no matter how much Purification he undergoes, he will never forget.
Character Quirks: Clicks his tongue a lot when annoyed, for everything from minor inconveniences to major obstacles.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
DOCUMENTATION
Name Before Death: Wu Xin
Life Before Resurrection: Rural China, Beginning of the Taiping Rebellion
The village of Chui was a simple place full of simple people. People who worried more about the pesky coyotes that stole their hens and the size of their next harvest than money or power or politics. In that boring little society he lived in, Wu Xin was considered an oddity. A boy who was too quick on his feet, too tricky with his words, with eyes that shined too brightly for the dull colors that surrounded him. They did not hate him. But he did not belong.
Where he did belong was with Yi, the only other person in the tribe who lit up like he did in conversations about lands that lay beyond their reach. They would lie on grassy hills or river banks to waste the days away together, as far from the others as they dared to venture. The older boy would tell him stories of the cities, of the army and Xin would be awestruck. The more he thought about them, the more he wanted to see those things that only existed in his fantasies. And he would see them, indeed, in the worst possible scenario.
- they are calling out for me. now, even now, they are screaming -
It had been a beautiful day. Xin had wanted to go swimming and Yi was always one to oblige him. But they had to be back early that day — it had been a village elder's birthday or something to that effect. They laughed and joked on their way back, as always, ever so carefree. Their laughter died slowly as the wisps of smoke entered their vision.
What they saw that day, the horrors that were committed against their families and friends, were things that could not be described in words. When he saw his sister being dragged, screaming and crying, Xin had tried to run to her. If Yi hadn't held him down and forced him to hide, that would have been the tragic end of his short life. They watched their homes burn down to the ground amidst the dastardly cries of their brethen, forcing themselves to swallow down their own sobs for the fear that they might be caught.
Alas, they survived. Dead inside, perhaps, but alive. They were two lost souls for a long while until the Qing army came by to "clean" after the disasters their enemies wreaked. While Xin was too young, Yi was allowed to join the army once they arrived at the city. For a short few years, Xin worked as an errand boy for a brothel, forced to watch a new kind of depravity altogether. He followed after Yi as soon as he could.
The only light in his life since the loss of his family was the new comrades he met through the army, all with their own terrible stories to tell. They, along with Yi, were like brothers to him. But one by one, he lost them too.
- taste of iron is heavy on my tongue. look me in the eyes and answer me truly; am I human still? -
With every loss that broke his heart, Xin thrived more and more in war. So much so that he scared himself. He lost himself in the hatred of his enemies and lived through the pain of their deaths. The death of Yi was the straw that broke the camel's back... Xin became a real killing machine. He lived on off nothing but sheer will, working himself to the bone.
The death of his physical self arrived the same way the death of his heart did — the ravaging of a village and the suffering of children. The boys were crying over their dead mother, so absorbed in their grief that the man swinging a sword over their head went unnoticed. Perhaps it was the sudden, striking empathy that he felt for those boys. Xin allowed himself to be separated from the troop and captured. The last thing he thought before his head was removed from his body and hung on walls as an example was that Yi would think him a complete fool for what he did.
And so ended Wu Xin, a fire trampled to its death, against its valiant efforts to burn as bright as it was destined... or at least, that's how it seemed then.
Life After Resurrection: If Xin could remember what dreaming was, he would have thought that was what was going on the moment he woke up on the shores of the Oblivion Sea. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember much of anything at all. He adapted fast, though. Maybe it was just his nature. Maybe it was because he had such few years in his previous go at life that he never really had a time to become fixed in his world view. Or, maybe it was because to the Xin with barely an understanding of what he himself was, it did not matter what kind of world he was reborn into since he would have to learn everything, anyway.
Whatever it was, in the short two years that he'd been taken in by the Dreamwatch, the only problem Xin has had in getting used to his new role was his lack of familiarity with guns and the migraine-inducing flashbacks that made him a regular for Purification. His training was otherwise fine.
Until they decided to throw him into Tengoku where literally all he had to do was look at someone to make them flinch and obey. Xin finds his current station about as boring as his first arrival to this world was interesting and can't wait to be doing something else.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
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GrieveWriter
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[div class=textbox]
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 170 lbs
Hair Description: Black evenly trimmed
Eye Description: Dark Grey
Complexion: Natural Tan
Physical Peculiarities: Wears a permanent scowl in almost every scenario.
Approximate Age of Death: 37
Cause of Death: Decapitation
Year of Death: 2267
Place of Death: Verganna, NGC 604 "Dotten", Triangulum galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Absynthium
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim
Janus' Metaphasium has settled down in his legs, in particular everything from his calves down is matte black in color. When needed, this flesh will reform itself into energy spikes running along his legs from his ankles to just below his knees.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Personality: One thing most will notice about Janus first and foremost is that the guy isn't the most emotive sort. With his impassible expression of casual disinterest always marring his face, most would assume that he'd be lazy enough to match. This is not the case in any way whatsoever, as anyone who spends more than two minutes with the guy could attest to his nigh unparalleled work ethic. When given an order, he'll do anything and everything he can to fulfill said order. In his line of work, it has led to him endangering himself multiple times before, but he's always considered this as just 'part of the job'. In fact, Janus has treated his return and conscription into the Einherjar with a surprising lack of reaction, treating it almost similarly as one would treat an Office Job. His lack of reaction or hesitation bleeds into a greater disregard for belief or morals, as he's weaved his entire purpose in life around his position as an Einherjar.
Oddly disconnected from his previous life in multiple ways, Janus stands out amongst his peers for this almost unsettling level of resignation to his fate. He doesn't seem to pine for ranking or renown, only to do his job as best as he can with what he has. Janus treats his coworkers with a level of respect, but this respect is solely for their abilities pertaining to their function as Einherjar. He'll ignore almost any and all traits that others might consider negative as long as they can do their jobs, with those who can't earning his silent ire until they've shown improvement. He's not one to display his anger blatantly, but if someone threatens the success of the mission he's quick to react. Similarly, his particular way of thinking can easily lead him to butt heads ideologically with his comrades, but even this is something he can accept as long as it doesn't interfere with their work.
So much of Janus revolves around his job that most would be hard-pressed to guess what he does in his time-off. While he does train, fun for him seems to revolve around having time that isn't working. So most of his downtime winds up being just lounging with a cigar or two and waiting for the next Mission. When not lounging or training, he'll wind up just wandering around aimlessly exploring. These ventures will often be sporadic and uncoordinated, with him winding up in oddly varied situations and positions each and every time just playing spectator to numerous events.
Dislikes:
Slothfulness
Failing his orders
His Old Life - He feels so little connection to it that he considers it weighing him down at this point.
Sweets- Janus has a particular aversion to sweet things, anything with a sugary flavor just disgusts him
Likes:
Working- It's pretty much his primary motivator.
Cigars- Janus has a penchant for enjoying a plethora of cigars in his off-time.
Running- No matter what training regimen he's doing, he'll always find a way to include legwork in it somehow.
Hard Workers
Exploration
Fears: Being Unable to Work Again- If he wasn't convinced that personal risk was part of the job, he'd do everything in his power to keep from risking destruction.
Character Quirks: In addition to Cigars, Janus has developed a rather encyclopedic knowledge of different alcohols among various Singularity Worlds through his ventures.
His time on Absynthium has left him automatically wary of Ancilla, who he will mentally keep track of whenever they're near
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Name before Death: Rodney "Chaser" Donovan
Life Before Resurrection: Anyone who kept up with professional Track prior to the Shattering would know the name of Rodney "Chaser" Donovan. A famous athlete known for breaking records due to his unheard of speed. He went from planet to planet, competing in races against others from all different walks of life, getting advertisement deals left and right that left him fairly wealthy. But what many didn't know was that Rodney was a fairly wild and reckless individual off the track. Unsatisfied with ever being still, he'd spend most of his money on countless ventures ranging from ill-thought out to just plain illegal. Though these dealings would turn out to eventually be his undoing, they weren't what got him suspended from the track for half a decade.
That would be a crippling addiction to Glimmer, an inhalant which Rodney just had to get himself involved in before a match. Of course, this scandal would get him outright banned from competing in numerous circuits, but enough merely suspended him until the matter was settled. So he began a course of rehabilitation, yet even without Glimmer in his system, Rodney was determined not to stay still. With his revenue drying up due to the lack of competitions at the time, Rodney went to several contacts he'd made in shady circles back during his wild escapades. With their help, he was able to maintain all of his assets throughout his rehabilitation period and burst back onto the scene for the come-back tale of the decade. The money flowed once more, but that wasn't enough to pay off what he owed.
One of his contacts had demanded Rodney throw a certain race at a certain time to sabotage one of the Advertisers that had been backing him. Now Rodney was no stranger to shady happenings at this point, but what kept him from fulfilling this particular request was far simpler than any kinds of regrets or moral awakenings he could've had. It was that even with his earlier scandal, Rodney had never once lost a race before, and he'd be damned if he ruined that streak when could just try throwing money at the problem instead. So that's what he tried doing, offering incrementally larger sums of money. Eventually he stopped getting replies, and ended up winning the competition held on Verganna with his usual aplomb. He returned to his apartment celebrating.
But it turns out the folks he'd stiffed weren't in such a celebratory manner.
The moment he entered, he was snatched, gagged and dragged into the center of the room before being beheaded in the middle of his bed. His murder went unsolved, becoming a pressing talking point for those in athletic circles. Of course, the Shattering eventually made such minor controversies irrelevant.
Life After Resurrection: Janus washed up on the Oblivion sea about two years ago, unmoving and frail like the rest of them. When he was picked up, his actions were minimal even when compared to other revenants. He barely did anything except offer simple responses to questioning. While displaying the usual confusion, Janus was rather quick to accept his new place in the world. Part of this acceptance stemmed from how difficult it was for him to remember even the slightest thing from his previous life, with the small kernels of information painting an extremely different picture to the person he was now. With nothing else to ground him, it wasn't difficult to get him into the Einherjars. In fact, not soon after being pumped with Metaphasium, his aptitude for the program was rather impressive. With him taking to new information quickly, his unyielding devotion to his new 'Job' led to him making staggering leaps in terms of performance.
Despite how little he's actually gotten from his old life, Janus has noted a number of preferences and quirks that he can only assume were left over from Rodney, who he's grown to see as a separate entity entirely. The sheer difference between the two has led Janus to consider his time as an athlete rather meaningless in comparison to what he's doing now. As time passed he only seemed to grow more irritated the more memories started surfacing, and he's made numerous requests to undergo Purification solely to be rid of them. However, as these memories don't tend to interfere with his actual effectiveness, these requests have been denied on more than one occasion.
Janus actually wound up proving himself quite the model soldier, willing to fulfill orders to a T no matter the scenario. Because of this and his willingness to do anything to become more capable for his job, Janus eventually managed to clear through the Initiation process early before being transferred to Absynthium. There he spent most of his time aiding the local chapter in dealing with the constant taunting and tugging from planet-side operations. He'd listen to his colleagues vent about the stretching of doctrine and conduct that seemed to occur on the regular, eventually settling in with them for the rest of his training period. He was actually under the impression that he would be sent to their chapter due to the synergy he managed to acrrue with his comrades.
Oh, how wrong he was...
[/div]
[/div][/div]
[div class=textbox]
Division γ Blue
Janus
Janus
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 170 lbs
Hair Description: Black evenly trimmed
Eye Description: Dark Grey
Complexion: Natural Tan
Physical Peculiarities: Wears a permanent scowl in almost every scenario.
Approximate Age of Death: 37
Cause of Death: Decapitation
Year of Death: 2267
Place of Death: Verganna, NGC 604 "Dotten", Triangulum galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Absynthium
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Scrim
Janus' Metaphasium has settled down in his legs, in particular everything from his calves down is matte black in color. When needed, this flesh will reform itself into energy spikes running along his legs from his ankles to just below his knees.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: One thing most will notice about Janus first and foremost is that the guy isn't the most emotive sort. With his impassible expression of casual disinterest always marring his face, most would assume that he'd be lazy enough to match. This is not the case in any way whatsoever, as anyone who spends more than two minutes with the guy could attest to his nigh unparalleled work ethic. When given an order, he'll do anything and everything he can to fulfill said order. In his line of work, it has led to him endangering himself multiple times before, but he's always considered this as just 'part of the job'. In fact, Janus has treated his return and conscription into the Einherjar with a surprising lack of reaction, treating it almost similarly as one would treat an Office Job. His lack of reaction or hesitation bleeds into a greater disregard for belief or morals, as he's weaved his entire purpose in life around his position as an Einherjar.
Oddly disconnected from his previous life in multiple ways, Janus stands out amongst his peers for this almost unsettling level of resignation to his fate. He doesn't seem to pine for ranking or renown, only to do his job as best as he can with what he has. Janus treats his coworkers with a level of respect, but this respect is solely for their abilities pertaining to their function as Einherjar. He'll ignore almost any and all traits that others might consider negative as long as they can do their jobs, with those who can't earning his silent ire until they've shown improvement. He's not one to display his anger blatantly, but if someone threatens the success of the mission he's quick to react. Similarly, his particular way of thinking can easily lead him to butt heads ideologically with his comrades, but even this is something he can accept as long as it doesn't interfere with their work.
So much of Janus revolves around his job that most would be hard-pressed to guess what he does in his time-off. While he does train, fun for him seems to revolve around having time that isn't working. So most of his downtime winds up being just lounging with a cigar or two and waiting for the next Mission. When not lounging or training, he'll wind up just wandering around aimlessly exploring. These ventures will often be sporadic and uncoordinated, with him winding up in oddly varied situations and positions each and every time just playing spectator to numerous events.
Dislikes:
Slothfulness
Failing his orders
His Old Life - He feels so little connection to it that he considers it weighing him down at this point.
Sweets- Janus has a particular aversion to sweet things, anything with a sugary flavor just disgusts him
Likes:
Working- It's pretty much his primary motivator.
Cigars- Janus has a penchant for enjoying a plethora of cigars in his off-time.
Running- No matter what training regimen he's doing, he'll always find a way to include legwork in it somehow.
Hard Workers
Exploration
Fears: Being Unable to Work Again- If he wasn't convinced that personal risk was part of the job, he'd do everything in his power to keep from risking destruction.
Character Quirks: In addition to Cigars, Janus has developed a rather encyclopedic knowledge of different alcohols among various Singularity Worlds through his ventures.
His time on Absynthium has left him automatically wary of Ancilla, who he will mentally keep track of whenever they're near
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Rodney "Chaser" Donovan
Life Before Resurrection: Anyone who kept up with professional Track prior to the Shattering would know the name of Rodney "Chaser" Donovan. A famous athlete known for breaking records due to his unheard of speed. He went from planet to planet, competing in races against others from all different walks of life, getting advertisement deals left and right that left him fairly wealthy. But what many didn't know was that Rodney was a fairly wild and reckless individual off the track. Unsatisfied with ever being still, he'd spend most of his money on countless ventures ranging from ill-thought out to just plain illegal. Though these dealings would turn out to eventually be his undoing, they weren't what got him suspended from the track for half a decade.
That would be a crippling addiction to Glimmer, an inhalant which Rodney just had to get himself involved in before a match. Of course, this scandal would get him outright banned from competing in numerous circuits, but enough merely suspended him until the matter was settled. So he began a course of rehabilitation, yet even without Glimmer in his system, Rodney was determined not to stay still. With his revenue drying up due to the lack of competitions at the time, Rodney went to several contacts he'd made in shady circles back during his wild escapades. With their help, he was able to maintain all of his assets throughout his rehabilitation period and burst back onto the scene for the come-back tale of the decade. The money flowed once more, but that wasn't enough to pay off what he owed.
One of his contacts had demanded Rodney throw a certain race at a certain time to sabotage one of the Advertisers that had been backing him. Now Rodney was no stranger to shady happenings at this point, but what kept him from fulfilling this particular request was far simpler than any kinds of regrets or moral awakenings he could've had. It was that even with his earlier scandal, Rodney had never once lost a race before, and he'd be damned if he ruined that streak when could just try throwing money at the problem instead. So that's what he tried doing, offering incrementally larger sums of money. Eventually he stopped getting replies, and ended up winning the competition held on Verganna with his usual aplomb. He returned to his apartment celebrating.
But it turns out the folks he'd stiffed weren't in such a celebratory manner.
The moment he entered, he was snatched, gagged and dragged into the center of the room before being beheaded in the middle of his bed. His murder went unsolved, becoming a pressing talking point for those in athletic circles. Of course, the Shattering eventually made such minor controversies irrelevant.
Life After Resurrection: Janus washed up on the Oblivion sea about two years ago, unmoving and frail like the rest of them. When he was picked up, his actions were minimal even when compared to other revenants. He barely did anything except offer simple responses to questioning. While displaying the usual confusion, Janus was rather quick to accept his new place in the world. Part of this acceptance stemmed from how difficult it was for him to remember even the slightest thing from his previous life, with the small kernels of information painting an extremely different picture to the person he was now. With nothing else to ground him, it wasn't difficult to get him into the Einherjars. In fact, not soon after being pumped with Metaphasium, his aptitude for the program was rather impressive. With him taking to new information quickly, his unyielding devotion to his new 'Job' led to him making staggering leaps in terms of performance.
Despite how little he's actually gotten from his old life, Janus has noted a number of preferences and quirks that he can only assume were left over from Rodney, who he's grown to see as a separate entity entirely. The sheer difference between the two has led Janus to consider his time as an athlete rather meaningless in comparison to what he's doing now. As time passed he only seemed to grow more irritated the more memories started surfacing, and he's made numerous requests to undergo Purification solely to be rid of them. However, as these memories don't tend to interfere with his actual effectiveness, these requests have been denied on more than one occasion.
Janus actually wound up proving himself quite the model soldier, willing to fulfill orders to a T no matter the scenario. Because of this and his willingness to do anything to become more capable for his job, Janus eventually managed to clear through the Initiation process early before being transferred to Absynthium. There he spent most of his time aiding the local chapter in dealing with the constant taunting and tugging from planet-side operations. He'd listen to his colleagues vent about the stretching of doctrine and conduct that seemed to occur on the regular, eventually settling in with them for the rest of his training period. He was actually under the impression that he would be sent to their chapter due to the synergy he managed to acrrue with his comrades.
Oh, how wrong he was...
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code by Ri.a
Last edited:
CkSmalling
In the End, Death gets us all
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 240lbs
Hair Description: Blonde
Eye Description: Gold
Complexion: White
Physical Peculiarities:Has a scar below his left eye, a long scar on his back and missing a left nipple
Approximate Age of Death: 34
Cause of Death: Death due to severe blood loss from a agape wound on his back. Severed L1-L5 vertebrae causing paralysis of the lower extremities.
Year of Death: 2256
Place of Death:[/b] Pragia, Dakka System, Nubian Expanse
Einherjar Chapter: Tengoku
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade:
Erebus assimilation were finalize down to his hands. His hands form a normal human like appearance with the skin coated with the color grade of an adult white human skin. From his shoulder all the way to his fingertips, his hands are weapons of ranged destruction, his left hand has the ability to morph into a medium sized shotgun whilst his right can morph into a small sub-machine gun. If he decided to use both his arm, they can morph into a long ranged sniper rifle. Due to both his hands being used, the weapon is heavy as is supported by one hand, meaning it has very limited use in close combat but finite use in long range reconnaissance.
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Personality:
Erebus is a very simple man with a single thing in his mind, vengeance to who killed him in his previous life. Apart from very cold eyes, he is a man who can be approached and make merry with. He does not discriminate as to who he will kill as every life form in all the galaxies are potential targets and potential source f huge source of credits. Due to his quest for revenge, he has become a very calculating man, seeking the safest probability routes of success. If a mission has a tendency of going against him, chances are, he won't do it.
Dislikes: Knives, the smell of formalin, low success rates in missions,
Likes: Food, his bed, his cabinet of collectable weapons, his wine cellar.
Fears: Medical operating rooms
Character Quirks: He likes to cook his own food as opposed to buying at a hotel. This is due to the fact that in his previous life, his wife almost died of an allergic reaction.
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Name before Death: Robert King
Life Before Resurrection:
Robert was a distinguished member of the Pragia Sniper core as he was the Captain of the elite squad, "MFD (Mark for Death)". Him and his colleagues were usually sent to high risk missions around the galaxy, taking out corrupt leaders and tyrant dictators from a safe distance away. His success rate was over 91% and the only branch of government that knew of their existence was the Military.
In the year 2256, they were contacted by their supervisor of a high risk mission in the Planet Joab of the Rosetta Nebula. The contract was to eliminate a leader who was using underage girls as his sex slaves. The owner of the contract was ironically his daughter. Orders was to eliminate him and free the slaves from captivity.
The mission was a brilliant success and they succeeded in stabilizing the planet. However on their return trip, their ship was surrounded by warmongering pirates who demanded the captain and all the cargo from the ship. Robert agreed to the terms and surrendered himself for the safety of his crew. They left and he was tortured for days upon days. On his last day, a familiar voice echoed his room. His back split open and his hands ripped from their sockets, his supervisor spoke, 'You were just a tool, and all tools must be replaced" And with that, his lumbar spine connections were severed and he died a few hours later.
Life After Resurrection:
Erebus woke up 300 years later at the shores of the Oblivion Sea. He opened his eyes only to be met by the waters of the sea. He tried to get up but he looked at his arms and all he could see was stumps from his shoulder. He rolled onto his back and tried to get up the hard way. All was in vain. He tried to scream for help but all he could say was a frail and inaudible scream.
He tried to stand up but couldn't. He tried to speak bu couldn't. He tried to open his eyes but all he could see was nothing. He heard something. Mechanized footsteps. "We have found another one". That was all he heard and that was all he remembered and after a few hours, he woke up in a cold and solitary room.
"Can you use your arms?" a voice suddenly spoke
"I have no arms. As you ca....." He froze. He looked at his stumps and there was a prosthetic arm on each side, with the same skin tone as his body."How..ho...how...how can this be?" He suddenly asked.
"The Metaphasium appears to have condensed into your arms. It's likely because you were a Sniper Captain, according to your memory fragments. These arms will make you one again, with the proper training. Do you accept?"
"Yes... teach me"
"Excellent. Get some rest. Your new name will be Erebus, Lord of the Shadows. You are one of us now. Your training starts in one month."
And thus he was coined Erebus, the Lord of Shadows. He did not know what he signed up for, but this was a good opportunity to start a new life in a new planet.
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Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
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Division γ Blue
"EREBUS"
"EREBUS"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 240lbs
Hair Description: Blonde
Eye Description: Gold
Complexion: White
Physical Peculiarities:Has a scar below his left eye, a long scar on his back and missing a left nipple
Approximate Age of Death: 34
Cause of Death: Death due to severe blood loss from a agape wound on his back. Severed L1-L5 vertebrae causing paralysis of the lower extremities.
Year of Death: 2256
Place of Death:[/b] Pragia, Dakka System, Nubian Expanse
Einherjar Chapter: Tengoku
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APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade:
Erebus assimilation were finalize down to his hands. His hands form a normal human like appearance with the skin coated with the color grade of an adult white human skin. From his shoulder all the way to his fingertips, his hands are weapons of ranged destruction, his left hand has the ability to morph into a medium sized shotgun whilst his right can morph into a small sub-machine gun. If he decided to use both his arm, they can morph into a long ranged sniper rifle. Due to both his hands being used, the weapon is heavy as is supported by one hand, meaning it has very limited use in close combat but finite use in long range reconnaissance.
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NOTES
Personality:
Erebus is a very simple man with a single thing in his mind, vengeance to who killed him in his previous life. Apart from very cold eyes, he is a man who can be approached and make merry with. He does not discriminate as to who he will kill as every life form in all the galaxies are potential targets and potential source f huge source of credits. Due to his quest for revenge, he has become a very calculating man, seeking the safest probability routes of success. If a mission has a tendency of going against him, chances are, he won't do it.
Dislikes: Knives, the smell of formalin, low success rates in missions,
Likes: Food, his bed, his cabinet of collectable weapons, his wine cellar.
Fears: Medical operating rooms
Character Quirks: He likes to cook his own food as opposed to buying at a hotel. This is due to the fact that in his previous life, his wife almost died of an allergic reaction.
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DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Robert King
Life Before Resurrection:
Robert was a distinguished member of the Pragia Sniper core as he was the Captain of the elite squad, "MFD (Mark for Death)". Him and his colleagues were usually sent to high risk missions around the galaxy, taking out corrupt leaders and tyrant dictators from a safe distance away. His success rate was over 91% and the only branch of government that knew of their existence was the Military.
In the year 2256, they were contacted by their supervisor of a high risk mission in the Planet Joab of the Rosetta Nebula. The contract was to eliminate a leader who was using underage girls as his sex slaves. The owner of the contract was ironically his daughter. Orders was to eliminate him and free the slaves from captivity.
The mission was a brilliant success and they succeeded in stabilizing the planet. However on their return trip, their ship was surrounded by warmongering pirates who demanded the captain and all the cargo from the ship. Robert agreed to the terms and surrendered himself for the safety of his crew. They left and he was tortured for days upon days. On his last day, a familiar voice echoed his room. His back split open and his hands ripped from their sockets, his supervisor spoke, 'You were just a tool, and all tools must be replaced" And with that, his lumbar spine connections were severed and he died a few hours later.
Life After Resurrection:
Erebus woke up 300 years later at the shores of the Oblivion Sea. He opened his eyes only to be met by the waters of the sea. He tried to get up but he looked at his arms and all he could see was stumps from his shoulder. He rolled onto his back and tried to get up the hard way. All was in vain. He tried to scream for help but all he could say was a frail and inaudible scream.
He tried to stand up but couldn't. He tried to speak bu couldn't. He tried to open his eyes but all he could see was nothing. He heard something. Mechanized footsteps. "We have found another one". That was all he heard and that was all he remembered and after a few hours, he woke up in a cold and solitary room.
"Can you use your arms?" a voice suddenly spoke
"I have no arms. As you ca....." He froze. He looked at his stumps and there was a prosthetic arm on each side, with the same skin tone as his body."How..ho...how...how can this be?" He suddenly asked.
"The Metaphasium appears to have condensed into your arms. It's likely because you were a Sniper Captain, according to your memory fragments. These arms will make you one again, with the proper training. Do you accept?"
"Yes... teach me"
"Excellent. Get some rest. Your new name will be Erebus, Lord of the Shadows. You are one of us now. Your training starts in one month."
And thus he was coined Erebus, the Lord of Shadows. He did not know what he signed up for, but this was a good opportunity to start a new life in a new planet.
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EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
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[/div][/div]
code by Ri.a
Last edited:
Ghostiiys
Member
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Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'5
Weight: 140
Hair Description: grey and light blue/green but styled in a long ponytail with braids.
Eye Description: Hazel esque , when looked closely at both eyes are different hues with bits of blues greens and pinks in them.
Complexion: Golden tan
Physical Peculiarities: Her face has scarification in the corner of her eyes , two above her eyebrows. as well as one large design on her back resembling jaguar prints. And on her stomach traveling up her chest. She also has stretched earlobes.
Approximate Age of Death: 23
Cause of Death: Died of exsanguination and organ failure due to multiple wounds by a sharp weapon.
Year of Death: 1523
Place of Death: Yucatán,Earth, Milky Way Galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Andlang
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Metaphasium Augment Type: Galvode
Chel's Metaphasium usually manifests itself into a jet black but iridescent blade on one arm and shield into the other , the position is interchangeable but she prefers to have the blade on her right and on her left a round throwing shield. While the shield is metaphasium it is tethered by "string" which is also metaphasium and she can throw it and reel it back. The shield in itself is extremely heavy and bladed around the edges. When in idle mode the metaphasium coats her chest and arms. She colors her scarification in gold with mailanchi for some shebang.
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Personality: Chel is a woman who feels deeply, almost to the point where it is draining. She believes in being kind to people at a surface level although when it comes to opening up about herself she gets defensive. She assumes that in her previous life she had a big family and that's why even now talking to people who are in her circle is relatively easy. She may come off as odd or annoying since she has noticed the walls everyone has built.
Although on one hand Chel can be distant and cold to others, its mainly traits she's picked up while being alive in this new world. But she still believes that granting others human decency and kindness is doing an honor to herself. As such Chel takes rude remarks and people who come off cold and harsh as more of an insult to themselves than to her.
Just like Ix Chel who she shares a name with , Chel believes that by emitting love into the world she can sow the seeds that might allow people to live their lives with honor. But as Ixchel is her pantheon War and death will follow Chel. Forming bonds with others fears her so she will pull up a wall when she thinks she is getting to close to people. To some Chel is an odd woman who wants to look like she is a kind woman but only comes off as someone trying too hard and ultimately should just stay as the distant recluse she is.
Dislikes: Ego. not only can it interfere with work but the most egotistical people really tick her off , Chel is not in the mood to hear your delusions of grandeur
People who refuse to change. Even if they way they are now is only weighing them down.
Being kept in the dark.
Likes: Candles. More often than not Chel will have quite the collection , meditating is a pastime of hers and the soft smells emanating from the candles help her enter her subconscious.
A good kill. A brute when it comes to battle Chel respects when her rivals fight for their cause and fight for their life , not only is it exhilarating to her but she believes a good death
will earn you a good afterlife.
Aged Coffee. Its almost like entering a whole new experience. Just sit back with some candles and aged coffee and Chel feels like she's in heaven
Fears: Her death. She almost closes it from her mind, she doesn't know how exactly she died. But she knows it must of been violent , she must of been helpless , she must of been scared.
Her past life. Excluding her death Chel feels a pit in her stomach when she thinks about what her previous life was like. Did she have a family? Did she have a lover? Was she an important figure? She fears to remember as if she does it'll be like opening a Pandora's box of feelings , memories , resentments.
letting others in. While Chel is a warm and kind individual it's only on a surface level , she fears if someone manages to slip past the armor she won't be able to handle the loss if something where to happen to them.
Character Quirks: She tends to feel pain in her shoulders and stomach when shes nervous. Shes also really good at weaving.
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Name before Death: Eztli Cantun
Life Before Resurrection: The year was 1523, Eztli lived in a big family , out of seven siblings excluding her she was the third oldest. Her three brothers , two of them which where her elders did the heavy lifting around the house , her younger brother Aapo and elder brother Fabio both worked on a farm near her home , their wages helping Eztli and her mother take care of the younger children who where still too young to contribute to the home. Her family was fortunate enough to live in the center of Uxmal , it was her eldest brother who became a soldier due to his perseverance to provide for his family. His wages and status blessing Eztli's family was a good life , one they could only thank the gods for.
When Eztli had time away from the screaming children and her mother and father telling her to find a husband she spent most of her time weaving. Not only did it provide extra income for herself to buy beautiful jewelry and yarn , Eztli loved the art behind it. If she didn't have household duties the young woman could spend hours enthralled in making patterns of bright blues , reds and yellows,
pinks for highlights and purple for undertones. Eztli would make clothes for her siblings and even her dog Xolo , who on one hand hated being her model but had no choice in the matter.
It had been only recently that men from foreign lands had made their presence noticed , it was known that the Spanish had come , they had brought disease and had already killed many innocents from their plagues and silver swords. Eztli couldn't comprehend at the time how her calm and decent life was teetering on the brink of collapse. She saw her eldest brother less and less assuming the tensions from these invaders were making their leaders nervous.
Today, specifically had been an odd day. The tension in the air was so thick she could cut it with a knife , Her and all of her family stayed in praying for good omens. That their crops would be plentiful , for many healthy children , and for the safe return of their people who where patrolling and defending the gods sacred land. With her eyes closed she could hear her parents get up and head towards the door which led outside. Straining to hear Eztli could hear their voices and another one , their tones where at first confused , but as the minutes passed they became noticeable frantic
and then she heard her mother crying.
Eztli stiffened , but her gaze remained shut , even when she had stopped praying. Hearing her mother cry certainly distressed her , but hearing her little sister whimper made Eztli open her eyes.
However she didn't have the time to comfort her or her other siblings who sat and looked behind her. Turning around she saw her eldest brother. He was already covered in blood but why? Was their a battle ? Looking at her parents , her mother who hid her face in her fathers arm , then back at her brother.. His eyes hollow and his gaze dead.
"Brother? " She could barely spit out the word , she was getting scared , her confusion heightening. He never came by the house, he had his own family now and his own home and was always preoccupied by his job to visit without notice. But where exactly were his children and wife? They always came by to visit.
As Eztli began to hyper-analyze everything she now noticed that outside the windows the skies had become red and the clouds grey and black faint screaming heard from the shadows. But the silence in her home was suffocating her.
Her brother didn't respond, Instead answering by pulling out his macuahuitl. Eztli getting up to her feet but not before he swung at her. Again , and again. Until she was on the floor Her shoulder reduced to nothing but a fleshy mass , bone shards and blood. Her stomach , her legs , quickly Eztli was on the floor although she could see her siblings one by one being slain by her own brother
even her parents kneeling down , a blur of reds and what would be their heads falling to the ground as well as her own brother taking his very life.
Her death brutal , No questions answered. A family legacy destroyed in what felt like seconds.
Life After Resurrection: It had been three years since Chel was found laying face in the sand at the shores of the Oblivion sea. She had woken up as she had died , colors muddied together in blurs , sounds dulled and distorted and Chel not aware of what she was looking at . It must of been hours before she came to her senses. She gasped inhaling the sand in her mouth , then screamed in a panic. It was if she was letting out all of the pain and anguish she was feeling when she had been murdered. Although now she had no idea why she was screaming. She had no idea what she was , where she was , what a she was.
It was almost like a germ gaining sentience and thrusted into a world with colors it hadn't seen , because it didn't even know how to register colors.
Chels biggest obstacle was adapting to her surroundings. Although she didn't remember much of her old life everything she did in this new world felt odd, almost like her brain was already hard wired to living in a world without technology and these advancements. It took a lot of mental training for her to realize that the world she is in now is just the norm. Touching small boxes and things happening? Music playing? Accidentally calling the police? To her it was a thrilling experience.
It took her two years to fully assimilate into a new culture , while the training itself was easy enough she has troubles seeing eye to eye with her fellow Einherjars who seem detached from themselves. Chel still views her actions as something that could affect her in her afterlife if she were to experience one like she thought she would in her previous life. In this sense she is a spiritual person and not wanting to lose a bit of her humanity she often prays before and after battles.
Even for her its still hard for her to fathom that she used to be alive and mortal over seven hundred years ago. Chel feels that the remnants of her spirit from her previous life are still reaching out for her, haunting her with fragments of old memories. Maybe that's why she has an innate talent at weaving and can make a mean corn tortilla beef wrap.
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[div class=textbox]
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
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[div class=textbox]
Division γ Blue
Chel
Chel
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'5
Weight: 140
Hair Description: grey and light blue/green but styled in a long ponytail with braids.
Eye Description: Hazel esque , when looked closely at both eyes are different hues with bits of blues greens and pinks in them.
Complexion: Golden tan
Physical Peculiarities: Her face has scarification in the corner of her eyes , two above her eyebrows. as well as one large design on her back resembling jaguar prints. And on her stomach traveling up her chest. She also has stretched earlobes.
Approximate Age of Death: 23
Cause of Death: Died of exsanguination and organ failure due to multiple wounds by a sharp weapon.
Year of Death: 1523
Place of Death: Yucatán,Earth, Milky Way Galaxy
Einherjar Chapter: Andlang
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Galvode
Chel's Metaphasium usually manifests itself into a jet black but iridescent blade on one arm and shield into the other , the position is interchangeable but she prefers to have the blade on her right and on her left a round throwing shield. While the shield is metaphasium it is tethered by "string" which is also metaphasium and she can throw it and reel it back. The shield in itself is extremely heavy and bladed around the edges. When in idle mode the metaphasium coats her chest and arms. She colors her scarification in gold with mailanchi for some shebang.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: Chel is a woman who feels deeply, almost to the point where it is draining. She believes in being kind to people at a surface level although when it comes to opening up about herself she gets defensive. She assumes that in her previous life she had a big family and that's why even now talking to people who are in her circle is relatively easy. She may come off as odd or annoying since she has noticed the walls everyone has built.
Although on one hand Chel can be distant and cold to others, its mainly traits she's picked up while being alive in this new world. But she still believes that granting others human decency and kindness is doing an honor to herself. As such Chel takes rude remarks and people who come off cold and harsh as more of an insult to themselves than to her.
Just like Ix Chel who she shares a name with , Chel believes that by emitting love into the world she can sow the seeds that might allow people to live their lives with honor. But as Ixchel is her pantheon War and death will follow Chel. Forming bonds with others fears her so she will pull up a wall when she thinks she is getting to close to people. To some Chel is an odd woman who wants to look like she is a kind woman but only comes off as someone trying too hard and ultimately should just stay as the distant recluse she is.
Dislikes: Ego. not only can it interfere with work but the most egotistical people really tick her off , Chel is not in the mood to hear your delusions of grandeur
People who refuse to change. Even if they way they are now is only weighing them down.
Being kept in the dark.
Likes: Candles. More often than not Chel will have quite the collection , meditating is a pastime of hers and the soft smells emanating from the candles help her enter her subconscious.
A good kill. A brute when it comes to battle Chel respects when her rivals fight for their cause and fight for their life , not only is it exhilarating to her but she believes a good death
will earn you a good afterlife.
Aged Coffee. Its almost like entering a whole new experience. Just sit back with some candles and aged coffee and Chel feels like she's in heaven
Fears: Her death. She almost closes it from her mind, she doesn't know how exactly she died. But she knows it must of been violent , she must of been helpless , she must of been scared.
Her past life. Excluding her death Chel feels a pit in her stomach when she thinks about what her previous life was like. Did she have a family? Did she have a lover? Was she an important figure? She fears to remember as if she does it'll be like opening a Pandora's box of feelings , memories , resentments.
letting others in. While Chel is a warm and kind individual it's only on a surface level , she fears if someone manages to slip past the armor she won't be able to handle the loss if something where to happen to them.
Character Quirks: She tends to feel pain in her shoulders and stomach when shes nervous. Shes also really good at weaving.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
DOCUMENTATION
Name before Death: Eztli Cantun
Life Before Resurrection: The year was 1523, Eztli lived in a big family , out of seven siblings excluding her she was the third oldest. Her three brothers , two of them which where her elders did the heavy lifting around the house , her younger brother Aapo and elder brother Fabio both worked on a farm near her home , their wages helping Eztli and her mother take care of the younger children who where still too young to contribute to the home. Her family was fortunate enough to live in the center of Uxmal , it was her eldest brother who became a soldier due to his perseverance to provide for his family. His wages and status blessing Eztli's family was a good life , one they could only thank the gods for.
When Eztli had time away from the screaming children and her mother and father telling her to find a husband she spent most of her time weaving. Not only did it provide extra income for herself to buy beautiful jewelry and yarn , Eztli loved the art behind it. If she didn't have household duties the young woman could spend hours enthralled in making patterns of bright blues , reds and yellows,
pinks for highlights and purple for undertones. Eztli would make clothes for her siblings and even her dog Xolo , who on one hand hated being her model but had no choice in the matter.
It had been only recently that men from foreign lands had made their presence noticed , it was known that the Spanish had come , they had brought disease and had already killed many innocents from their plagues and silver swords. Eztli couldn't comprehend at the time how her calm and decent life was teetering on the brink of collapse. She saw her eldest brother less and less assuming the tensions from these invaders were making their leaders nervous.
Today, specifically had been an odd day. The tension in the air was so thick she could cut it with a knife , Her and all of her family stayed in praying for good omens. That their crops would be plentiful , for many healthy children , and for the safe return of their people who where patrolling and defending the gods sacred land. With her eyes closed she could hear her parents get up and head towards the door which led outside. Straining to hear Eztli could hear their voices and another one , their tones where at first confused , but as the minutes passed they became noticeable frantic
and then she heard her mother crying.
Eztli stiffened , but her gaze remained shut , even when she had stopped praying. Hearing her mother cry certainly distressed her , but hearing her little sister whimper made Eztli open her eyes.
However she didn't have the time to comfort her or her other siblings who sat and looked behind her. Turning around she saw her eldest brother. He was already covered in blood but why? Was their a battle ? Looking at her parents , her mother who hid her face in her fathers arm , then back at her brother.. His eyes hollow and his gaze dead.
"Brother? " She could barely spit out the word , she was getting scared , her confusion heightening. He never came by the house, he had his own family now and his own home and was always preoccupied by his job to visit without notice. But where exactly were his children and wife? They always came by to visit.
As Eztli began to hyper-analyze everything she now noticed that outside the windows the skies had become red and the clouds grey and black faint screaming heard from the shadows. But the silence in her home was suffocating her.
Her brother didn't respond, Instead answering by pulling out his macuahuitl. Eztli getting up to her feet but not before he swung at her. Again , and again. Until she was on the floor Her shoulder reduced to nothing but a fleshy mass , bone shards and blood. Her stomach , her legs , quickly Eztli was on the floor although she could see her siblings one by one being slain by her own brother
even her parents kneeling down , a blur of reds and what would be their heads falling to the ground as well as her own brother taking his very life.
Her death brutal , No questions answered. A family legacy destroyed in what felt like seconds.
Life After Resurrection: It had been three years since Chel was found laying face in the sand at the shores of the Oblivion sea. She had woken up as she had died , colors muddied together in blurs , sounds dulled and distorted and Chel not aware of what she was looking at . It must of been hours before she came to her senses. She gasped inhaling the sand in her mouth , then screamed in a panic. It was if she was letting out all of the pain and anguish she was feeling when she had been murdered. Although now she had no idea why she was screaming. She had no idea what she was , where she was , what a she was.
It was almost like a germ gaining sentience and thrusted into a world with colors it hadn't seen , because it didn't even know how to register colors.
Chels biggest obstacle was adapting to her surroundings. Although she didn't remember much of her old life everything she did in this new world felt odd, almost like her brain was already hard wired to living in a world without technology and these advancements. It took a lot of mental training for her to realize that the world she is in now is just the norm. Touching small boxes and things happening? Music playing? Accidentally calling the police? To her it was a thrilling experience.
It took her two years to fully assimilate into a new culture , while the training itself was easy enough she has troubles seeing eye to eye with her fellow Einherjars who seem detached from themselves. Chel still views her actions as something that could affect her in her afterlife if she were to experience one like she thought she would in her previous life. In this sense she is a spiritual person and not wanting to lose a bit of her humanity she often prays before and after battles.
Even for her its still hard for her to fathom that she used to be alive and mortal over seven hundred years ago. Chel feels that the remnants of her spirit from her previous life are still reaching out for her, haunting her with fragments of old memories. Maybe that's why she has an innate talent at weaving and can make a mean corn tortilla beef wrap.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
[/div]
[/div][/div]
code by Ri.a
Last edited:
DarkSlayer
Resident Garlic Man
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[div class=textbox]
"Mordred"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 165
Hair Description: Raven black hair parted down the center and ending just above his shoulders, his bangs framing his face
Eye Description: His eyes resemble pools of liquid silver, melting and warm in rare moments of compassion, and cool steel when angered
Complexion: His skin is sickly and pale
Physical Peculiarities: A curious scar runs from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth, giving his features an almost permanent lopsided smirk, or grin
Approximate Age of Death: 25
[/b]Cause of Death:[/b] Bleeding out after numerous egregious wounds from blades and axes marring his torso and limbs
Year of Death: 552 AD
Place of Death: (Nottingham, Earth , The Milky Way)
Einherjar Chapter: Eijudnir
[div class=textbox]
Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade; Mordred's Augment manifests as a whip made from pure energy, capable of lashing out to targets at range and providing crowd control. Out of combat usage though, it also provides another means of traversing distance
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Personality: Mordred is rather sure of himself and his abilities, coming off as arrogant or overconfident even without the help of his scar as witty remarks and sarcasm tend to be his go to for conversation. Stubborn and proud, he makes for quite a useful tool for Dreamwatch, as he handles his cases without remorse and hardly cares for mercy. In spite of his rather unpleasant demeanor, he's loyal to a fault when it comes to his comrades, and will sacrifice himself if need be for his team. At the end of the day, all they really have left is their work and each other after all.
Dislikes: Idiots, cowards, pleas for mercy, sobriety, emotions, the color blue, total silence, betrayal
Likes: Alcohol, intercourse, fighting, the color red, humor, the kill, music
Fears: Becoming emotionally attached, has an irrational fear of becoming paralyzed, is afraid when people get behind him
Character Quirks: Mordred is in some form of constant motion, seemingly unable to sit still
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
[bAlan:]
Life Before Resurrection: Unable to remember the full events of his life before his resurrection, Mordred only has snippets of his service. He knows that he served under the English Royal Crown, a knight, ordered to work with the Sheriff of Nottingham and assist him in the locating and executing of brigands, murderers, and poachers. It seemed simple enough to him. Bandits and the like were hardly organized, and he rode out to fulfill his King's Demands. He met with the Sheriff, and after seeing the sorry state the troops were in, launched a training program to kick their arses into gear. His plan was to get them in tip top shape and then kill the robbing bastards within the week's end, before drinking and whoring himself silly. This however, would not be the case as he led the guard into the forests of Nottingham, and was quickly fell upon from above. Arrows from all sides shot out, dropping his companions one after another. What happens after gets hazy, and all Mordred can remember next is speaking to the Sheriff-well, more trying to explain himself with dignity and getting screamed at, spittle flying into his face. How that conversation went, he's unsure, but it ended with an embrace and promises of holding this out together, now that they know what to expect. Apparently that expecting didn't go well for them, as the next flash of memories shows the Sheriff's chateau in flames. Bodies from both sides lined the streets and Mordred himself was covered in blood, felling foe after foe as he fought side by side with the Sheriff. For whatever reason, it seemed the brigands were targeting Mordred specifically, the Sheriff only being more of a nuisance than anything. They pushed back, all the way to the city gates. The last stretch to the horses before they could cause some real damage. That's when the tides turned for the worst and Mordred felt a blade sink into his shoulder. Falling to his knees, he turned only to see the Sheriff wrench his sword out of Mordred's back before turning tail and fleeing. The bandits were quick to fall upon his kneeling form, and cut at him with vicious anger, attacking one at a time, rotating and meaning to keep him alive as long as possible. One woman stepped forward, a dagger in her hand as she grabbed his chin and carved a crescent into his face. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the head of an axe falling down onto his his groin. He awoke some hours later, the ground soaked with his blood, rain falling onto him, and with a shivering breath, he felt the cold sink in, before he died.
Life After Resurrection: Mordred awoke on the Shores in 2548, only a small number of years ago, and after the initial shock of a simple lack of comprehension, the new pieces of his life started to fit together, though initially, outbursts of rage and anger were common. After finishing his two year Initiation, Mordred remained on Eljudnir for a time, though he itched to get out into the proper field, even Aaru. While he doesn't know his team members very well personally, and enjoys heckling them admittedly, they're still the closest things he has to himself, and that's enough for him to stay by them no matter what comes forth, though he can't help the warriness creeping in. He won't make the same mistakes twice...that's for dead certain.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
[/div]
[/div][/div]
[div class=textbox]
"Mordred"
Einherjar Classification: Class 1
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 165
Hair Description: Raven black hair parted down the center and ending just above his shoulders, his bangs framing his face
Eye Description: His eyes resemble pools of liquid silver, melting and warm in rare moments of compassion, and cool steel when angered
Complexion: His skin is sickly and pale
Physical Peculiarities: A curious scar runs from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth, giving his features an almost permanent lopsided smirk, or grin
Approximate Age of Death: 25
[/b]Cause of Death:[/b] Bleeding out after numerous egregious wounds from blades and axes marring his torso and limbs
Year of Death: 552 AD
Place of Death: (Nottingham, Earth , The Milky Way)
Einherjar Chapter: Eijudnir
[div class=textbox]
APPEARANCE
Metaphasium Augment Type: Cascade; Mordred's Augment manifests as a whip made from pure energy, capable of lashing out to targets at range and providing crowd control. Out of combat usage though, it also provides another means of traversing distance
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alt="f4fc019b54ead4939db7388d1a20d2a0.png."
title=""
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[/div]
[div class=textbox]
NOTES
Personality: Mordred is rather sure of himself and his abilities, coming off as arrogant or overconfident even without the help of his scar as witty remarks and sarcasm tend to be his go to for conversation. Stubborn and proud, he makes for quite a useful tool for Dreamwatch, as he handles his cases without remorse and hardly cares for mercy. In spite of his rather unpleasant demeanor, he's loyal to a fault when it comes to his comrades, and will sacrifice himself if need be for his team. At the end of the day, all they really have left is their work and each other after all.
Dislikes: Idiots, cowards, pleas for mercy, sobriety, emotions, the color blue, total silence, betrayal
Likes: Alcohol, intercourse, fighting, the color red, humor, the kill, music
Fears: Becoming emotionally attached, has an irrational fear of becoming paralyzed, is afraid when people get behind him
Character Quirks: Mordred is in some form of constant motion, seemingly unable to sit still
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
DOCUMENTATION
[bAlan:]
Life Before Resurrection: Unable to remember the full events of his life before his resurrection, Mordred only has snippets of his service. He knows that he served under the English Royal Crown, a knight, ordered to work with the Sheriff of Nottingham and assist him in the locating and executing of brigands, murderers, and poachers. It seemed simple enough to him. Bandits and the like were hardly organized, and he rode out to fulfill his King's Demands. He met with the Sheriff, and after seeing the sorry state the troops were in, launched a training program to kick their arses into gear. His plan was to get them in tip top shape and then kill the robbing bastards within the week's end, before drinking and whoring himself silly. This however, would not be the case as he led the guard into the forests of Nottingham, and was quickly fell upon from above. Arrows from all sides shot out, dropping his companions one after another. What happens after gets hazy, and all Mordred can remember next is speaking to the Sheriff-well, more trying to explain himself with dignity and getting screamed at, spittle flying into his face. How that conversation went, he's unsure, but it ended with an embrace and promises of holding this out together, now that they know what to expect. Apparently that expecting didn't go well for them, as the next flash of memories shows the Sheriff's chateau in flames. Bodies from both sides lined the streets and Mordred himself was covered in blood, felling foe after foe as he fought side by side with the Sheriff. For whatever reason, it seemed the brigands were targeting Mordred specifically, the Sheriff only being more of a nuisance than anything. They pushed back, all the way to the city gates. The last stretch to the horses before they could cause some real damage. That's when the tides turned for the worst and Mordred felt a blade sink into his shoulder. Falling to his knees, he turned only to see the Sheriff wrench his sword out of Mordred's back before turning tail and fleeing. The bandits were quick to fall upon his kneeling form, and cut at him with vicious anger, attacking one at a time, rotating and meaning to keep him alive as long as possible. One woman stepped forward, a dagger in her hand as she grabbed his chin and carved a crescent into his face. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the head of an axe falling down onto his his groin. He awoke some hours later, the ground soaked with his blood, rain falling onto him, and with a shivering breath, he felt the cold sink in, before he died.
Life After Resurrection: Mordred awoke on the Shores in 2548, only a small number of years ago, and after the initial shock of a simple lack of comprehension, the new pieces of his life started to fit together, though initially, outbursts of rage and anger were common. After finishing his two year Initiation, Mordred remained on Eljudnir for a time, though he itched to get out into the proper field, even Aaru. While he doesn't know his team members very well personally, and enjoys heckling them admittedly, they're still the closest things he has to himself, and that's enough for him to stay by them no matter what comes forth, though he can't help the warriness creeping in. He won't make the same mistakes twice...that's for dead certain.
[/div]
[div class=textbox]
EXTRAS
Character Theme Inspiration:
Voiceclaim:
[/div]
[/div][/div]
code by Ri.a
[/div]
Last edited:
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