Multiple Settings Infinite Verse - Character Sheets

[Dawnsx]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

answer

age

answer

gender

answer

height

answer

weight

answer

origin

description of the world that your character originated from

in-depth

personality

answer

history

answer

relationship

answer

abilities

combat

any notable combat abilities, including magic

abilities

non-combat related abilities

equipment

any items on your character when they died

notes

Aside from the categories above, feel free to include any additional categories like miscellaneous facts and all that!

Combat: Regarding combat abilities, it is important to keep in mind that the System will equalize your character's powers. In other words, you can feel free to create a powerful mage whose powers can easily nuke a city, but once they are brought to the other world, their power will be scaled down so that they can't throw anything more than a fireball. Similarly, a regular human with no notable ability could get a physical boost to make sure that they could keep up with the other characters. This equalization applies to weapons and equipment as well. Your character has a big ol' laser gun? It won't do more damage than a regular gun.

No need to worry though! As your character progresses through the roleplay, they will be rewarded with level-ups that will slowly restore their abilities. We will leave it up to you to appropriately nerf your characters (or buff them, if they start as a regular human), just keep in mind that your character should only be slightly stronger than your average human and be capable of defending themselves in a fight. Silver and I will be around if you have questions, and we'll also reach out if anything needs editing!

Equipment: Any items that your character carries with him/her when they died will be transferred with the character into the new worlds. This includes your clothes, cellphone, wallets, weapons (with nerf applied if necessary, as explained further below), or more. These items will be stored inside a "storage space" that the System will provide for you for you to access throughout your journey. However, note that just because you have the items, doesn't mean that their functionality remains the same. For example, your wallet may hold $1000, but will be deemed useless due to currency difference, or your phone will be out of service or unable to turn out. This depends on the worlds you are in. Likewise, their functionality may also change as the roleplay goes on. Who knows, the System may suddenly give you a magical item that transforms your money into usable currency. Maybe this is not the most useful info for now, but perhaps it can help with your character creation!

 

[Nellancholy]

​

basics

name: Hystaria Oogumo Euleria Vectis Montin Silber Grandine Elvetie Nephthys Solis (but you can call her Star if you must)


age: ~3 centuries


species: Arachne (subspecies of the Hivefolk umbrella)


gender: Female-presenting


height: 0.9 yalms/~2 meters in humanoid form, 1.5 yalms/~3.5 meters in tauric form


weight: 2.65 emeras ("You're welcome to figure out the conversion into your units.")


origin:

Aeons ago, there was an infinite darkness, formless yet solid. And then there were the Gods. They lingered around the darkness, uncertain how to give it form. They were content to sit and ponder for eternities before moving to form matter from nothing, but their hand was soon forced. Seeing their indecision, the darkness gave itself purpose. It would grow, assimilate the aspects of the passive Gods, and then expand ever further to impose its will upon the universe. Motivated by survival, the Gods finally acted. With their powers combined, they struck the darkness, using its form to bring about a new creation of light and order.

Each god created one biome, one form of soil, and one form of weather to spread throughout their creation. And then each created one broad race, from which several species branched. The Lightfolk, the emissaries of the Gods from which came elves and fairies. The Stonefolk, who sought the warmth of deep earth and gave rise to orcs and gnomes. The Clawfolk, who demonstrated their adaptability to every environment, bearing all kinds of shifters, beastkin, and even the people who are now known as Man. Their close cousins, the Hivefolk, cultivators of nature and the climates. Several more races were created, each with a God that guided their traits.

A fitting name for this world was chosen: Penumbra. The world that lingered on the edge of total darkness, with the Gods' creations ever growing in wisdom and harmony to keep it in abeyance.

Though this was not always a guarantee. As the people grew in number, they formed civilizations, and struggle began there as it would in any other world.

Most pertinent to our story is the walled kingdom of Solis, ruled predominantly by the descendants of the Lightfolk. Strongly expansionist in generations past, Solis has directed itself towards development of industry and natural science, making ever better use of the bounty the Gods forged for them. And it is there from which this hero hails...


in-depth

personality

Hystaria Solis is a serious, but not grim woman, dedicated to her service and relieving suffering in others. Since the early years of her life, she was moved to bridge relations between the Hivefolk and Lightfolk, and so devoted herself to serving Ilias, the Penumbran Goddess of Justice. Each of her names signifies a service done in the name of Ilias, for the kingdom of Solis.

She always keeps busy with some kind of work, whether study, ministration, or exploration of uncharted lands. She never jokes, but receives those of others with good humor. When the mission to set forth to slay the Dark Lord began, she volunteered her expertise with little hesitation.

history
"Monsters" were a common part of life on Penumbra, though increasingly so over the past century. No mere supernatural beast, monsters were creatures formed of primordial darkness, antithetical to all life, and there were increasing numbers of those who trained to slay them.

This turned all of a sudden when the kingdom of Hyboria on the far reaches of Penumbra fell to monsters overnight, its forests withering and the sky engulfed in dark clouds.

The ruling council of Solis, hearing the fell news, declared this in line with an ancient prophecy handed to the Lightfolk at the dawn of the world, declaring that the darkness would return, and a chosen hero would have to journey into its domain to snuff it out once more.

The diviners of Solis revealed that the hero was named Portis, a young mer living among the Clawfolk. Ever dutiful, Hystaria ventured forth to retrieve him, and their journey began to gather allies and liberate the nations from the predations of the monsters, before striking at the heart of darkness to free Hyboria.

Torak Gro-shub, the orc shamaness. Mikhail Dawnhammer, the dwarven knight. Lena Grunbeld, the Clawfolk ranger. These allies and more joined the ranks of the hero's party, each sharing the valiant goal of defeating the darkness once and for all.

All but one.

It was the darkest night Penumbra had ever seen when the party made camp, preparing for the light of dawn to come, heralding their final assault on the stronghold of shadow. The journey would finally be over, and Penumbra would be saved. Portis would return a true hero, his life forever changed.

It was on this night, in the pitch-blackness, when Hurak struck. A treasure hunter who joined the party claiming to want to preserve the riches of the world, he had nonetheless proven steadfast over time. Was he a spy all along? Or had he been corrupted by the athame he then held in his hand?

Empowered by the shadows of the darkest night, the athame's malevolent power froze the heroes in place, all but sealing Portis' fate.

But at the last moment, by providence of Ilias, a single beam of light pierced the darkness, shining on Hystaria. She knew what she had to do. With no time to invoke her spells, she threw herself in front of the blade, dying to save the others as the single, unfailingly fatal blow was spent on her.

The rest is darkness.

With the opportunity presented to her, it was only natural that she would take a chance to return to life. She had to return, to see the completion of her duty.


relationship


abilities

combat

Magic: Specifically "imprinted magic", one of the predominant forms of magic practiced by the people of Penumbra. Magicians who practice imprinted magic memorize spells in advance of their use by means of extremely dense, complex invocations that are typically recorded on a medium such as a spellbook.

The most potent and reliable effects are accessible to those with the concentration and practice to retain memorized invocations in any situation, though once cast the invocation is expelled from the caster's mind and must be prepared once more. However, most proficient users of imprinted magic can continue to use lesser versions of forgotten invocations based on what they retain, at the expense of prolonged casting time and reduced effect.

In her great breadth of experience, Hystaria hybridized the imprinted magic she learned with theurgy (a form of divine magic connected to using prayer and propitiation to cause tangible effects) by extrapolating invocations from the scriptures of Ilias, the Goddess of Justice worshipped in Solis.

Spells for which Hystaria was particularly distinguished include (but are not limited to):

• Elemental Storm: A storm of elemental energy several tens of meters in radius engulfs the caster's surroundings, while protecting the caster and anyone in arm's reach of them from the same element.
• Moonblast: A single target experiences the searing pain of divine light, and beings supernaturally transformed are restored to their prior form. Has no effect unless the target has line of sight to one of the current planet's celestial bodies.
• Sustenance: For several minutes, a target is filled with divine vigor and cannot be killed by any means. Once the effect concludes, their body becomes severely drained, and weaker individuals may fall comatose indefinitely.
• Conjuration: A spirit resembling a natural creature, supernatural beast, or a divine enforcer of Ilias is condensed into being. The spirit can fight or influence the natural environment on behalf of the caster, or sacrifice itself to heal a fatal wound on an ally.
• Sanctuary: The caster can clearly mark out and consecrate a large area (in Hystaria's capacity this amounts to a mansion's area) which an individual or specified group at the time of casting will alert the caster if they enter, or attempt to. The caster may specify that the targets are barred from entering the sanctuary at all, or that they may enter, but suffer increasing physical damage and weight as they remain within.

abilities

• Does whatever a spider can: yes, including that.
• Practically unharmed by poisons and diseases that affect mammals, susceptible to poisons tailored to target insects and arthropods
• Experienced herbalist and physician
• Veteran explorer, knowledgeable about Penumbra's geography (but how useful can it be now)?
• Knowledge (mostly theoretical) of military tactics
• Trained in hand-to-hand combat, little practiced

equipment

• A solidly-bound grimoire that holds all Hystaria's important invocations
• A staff made of magically conductive material. Many magicians use implements to direct their magic, but Hystaria keeps one mainly for show. If lent to another, it might considerably aid their casting.
• A small potion making kit
• Athame: the dagger meant to slay the hero Portis. Whatever malevolent influence it had dissipated with Hystaria's death, and after she pulled it from her gut all that remains is a wickedly sharp obsidian blade.

 

[Dovinique]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

Kyu

age

26 in human age

gender

Female

height

175cm | 5'9''

weight

Secret!

Origin

Echo, they call it, the world of wonders where magic blooms in abundance. Here, the sight of elves, dwarves, mermaids, dragons, imps, and countless other magical creatures is commonplace. But humans, scarce as they are, are considered mythical—descendants of the gods themselves. The rarity of humans elevates them to a near-divine status, worshiped by many who believe that their unmagical hands hold the power to reshape the world in unimaginable ways.

Echo is divided into several nations, each predominantly occupied by a different race, with two notable exceptions, Sharha and Leciticon, nations where diversity thrives and races blend into one. Kyu hails from Kani Oku, the proud nation of dragons. These dragons, guardians of humans, are born with powerful magic, exceptional combat prowess, and the ability to transform into majestic, awe-inspiring dragons. Their bond with humans is unbreakable, sworn upon their scales and horns, promising to forever serve as the shield of humanity.

in-depth

Personality

Kyu is the person you can trust with all your stories and secrets, the one who will never judge and will stand by you when no one else does. To many, she embodies the essence of a nurturing mother or an understanding big sister, and she embraces these roles with wholehearted dedication. Caring for others is more than just a habit for Kyu, it's a passion. She delights in cooking meals, reading bedtime stories, brushing hair, offering advice, or simply being a comforting presence. With Kyu, you'll find yourself spoiled every day, regardless of young or old, girls or boys, and even species. Her warm smile and open arms are always ready to welcome you.

Being close to Kyu feels like heaven itself, a paradise of love and care. Yet, as with all heavens, there's always a hell. Kyu's intense protectiveness can sometimes blur into possessiveness. Her painful experience of being disowned by her family has left her with a profound fear of neglect and the anguish of losing those she loves. The sting of death and betrayal can shatter her heart into pieces. Thus, she tends to hold onto something precious to her so tightly that it would leave an unforgivable mark.

While Kyu is gentle by nature and rarely seen angry, her anger manifests in subtle, passive-aggressive ways. Imagine accidentally spilling a dish she spent hours preparing. Instead of a shout, you'd hear her say with a tender yet pointed tone, "Oh dear... are you okay? Did you get hurt? It's alright, love. Everyone makes mistakes. I can always remake the meal. It’s not like I had anything important to do today, those four tiring hours were nothing." This passive-aggressive streak also ties into her moody nature, leading her to give silent treatments or deliver backhanded compliments at the most unexpected times.

History

"We are band of misfit... who don't belong in any puzzle set yet we complete each other’s pieces.”

Kyu Hanakagin entered the world into Kani Oku, a nation of majestic dragons revered as the main guardians of humans. In this proud land where power reigned supreme, each dragonling, upon birth, underwent meticulous assessment and training, focusing on either their physical prowess or their mastery of magical arts. Like her kin, Kyu was whisked away from the cradle to be evaluated by the “Elders”, her potential scrutinized, including her ability to assume her dragon form. While most dragonlings underwent this transformation between the ages of seven and ten, Kyu, even after celebrating her thirteenth birthday, remained unable to manifest this essential aspect of her draconic heritage. This unprecedented circumstance stirred unease among the dragon Elders, leading to exhaustive nights of research and debate, culminating in the grim conclusion that… Kyu was “cursed”.

The presence of a cursed one among the illustrious dragon kin was deemed a grave dishonor by the Elders, who feared that Kyu's very existence might bring ill fortune upon the entire clan. Consequently, Kyu was swiftly and decisively banished from Kani Oku, stripped of her family name Hanakagin, and forbidden from ever setting foot within the revered boundaries of her homeland again. Though her dragon blood ran thick, Kyu was no longer a dragon kin.

For the next four years, Kyu wandered Echo alone, her path fraught with fleeting encounters and short-lived connections. However, fate had other plans for her when she crossed paths with them. Tessabelle, a witch ostracized for her unconventional brewing methods; Arch, an elf-human hybrid rejected by both races for his mixed heritage; and Killia, a human shunned for his past deeds. Bound by the invisible threads of destiny, the four souls found solace in each other's company, forming an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of shared misfortune. They became a family of sorts, inseparable, pledging to protect each other and never abandon one another in their journey through life.

Years drifted by as Kyu and her companions traversed the lands, never settling in one place. As mercenaries, they eked out a modest existence, their skills in demand wherever they went. Their reputation grew, eventually catching the attention of a figure known as the "Hand of Light", a human who proclaimed himself as a divine emissary, a descendant of Heaven, sent by the Gods themselves to save Echo.

The Hand of Light sought to harness both light and dark powers, believing that balance was the key to harmonizing the world's yin and yang. To achieve his lofty goal, he needed capable hands, and he promised each member of the group something irresistible in exchange for their assistance. For Kyu, he offered the restoration of her status as a dragon kin, promising to bestow upon her the power to finally undergo her long-awaited transformation into a dragon.

At first, everything went smoothly, with no hint of suspicion as their alliance with the Hand of Light solidified. In due course, they ascended to the esteemed rank of the "4 Generals of Gods", becoming the Hand's most trusted aides. Among them, Killia stood out as the Hand's favored, perhaps due to his prowess in combat, or more significantly, because of their shared human lineage. Crack…

As time wore on, the Hand of Light's plans began to veer into morally questionable territory, straying from his original noble intent. Kyu, attuned to the shifting tides, grew wary of the Hand's increasingly power-hungry and morally ambiguous actions. The once benevolent and visionary Hand seemed to shed his facade, revealing a darker, more insidious nature. Sensing the impending darkness, Kyu urged her companions to abandon the Hand's cause and return to their former way of life. However, Tessabelle staunchly defended her loyalty to the Hand, blinded by her enjoyment of their current position. Arch, aligning with Kyu, shared his concerns, while Killia remained mostly silent on the matter.

Tensions reached a boiling point one fateful night, culminating in a heated altercation. Arch, driven to the edge, brandished his sword against Tessabelle for the first time, thwarting her attempt to harm Kyu with a thunder spell. Killia intervened, diffusing the situation and escorting Tessabelle away, leaving Arch to comfort the shaken Kyu. Crack…

In the aftermath, the group splintered. Tessabelle distanced herself, spending most of her time with the Hand of Light, while Arch immersed himself in solitary training. Kyu, undeterred, tried tirelessly to reconcile with Tessabelle, but her efforts were met with rejection. She also attempted to mend the rift between Arch and Tessabelle, but Arch remained obstinate. During her low moments, Kyu found solace in Killia's support. Their bond deepened and love… blossomed… cr… ack…

As the Hand of Light's army swelled in numbers, his insatiable thirst for power drove him to raid nations and seize their most sacred artifacts. He showed no mercy, slaughtering all who dared to oppose him, regardless of age or gender, sparing only humans. Throughout these brutal campaigns, Tessabelle stood proudly by his side, her loyalty to him growing ever stronger. Kyu, Arch, and Killia watched in mounting horror as their former friend became further entrenched in the Hand's dark ambitions. Determined to stop him, they began to secretly devise a plan to thwart his malevolent schemes. It took one long year of careful planning and preparation before they were ready to act. Crack…

On the second night of the full moon, they found themselves at Mountain Kah Ku, where the sacred palace of Kani Oku stood. This was where the final artifact, the "Tear of Moon," was kept. The Hand of Light had already secured the other six artifacts and needed only this last one to complete his collection. With all the artifacts in his possession, he planned to perform a ritual at the mountain that would grant him immense light-dark power and transform him into the vessel of Roakkyn, the God of Maleficence.

Tessabelle was chosen to accompany and guard the Hand of Light during the ritual, while Kyu, Arch, and Killia were instructed to remain at the foot of the mountain. Once the Hand and Tessabelle were out of sight, the trio followed, their plan hinging on ambushing him at his most vulnerable moment during the ritual. They marched up the mountain with resolve, knowing that fate once again poised itself against them.

At the shrine, they found Tessabelle, as expected, standing guard. Kyu made a heartfelt attempt to reach out to her old friend, gently touching her cheek in a bid to remind her of their bond. However, Tessabelle slapped Kyu’s hand away, her expression cold and unrecognizable. Arch, with a heavy heart, declared that Tessabelle was lost to them, having surrendered her soul and body to the Hand of Light. Tessabelle responded with a mocking laugh before transforming into demoness form, her body shrouded in a dark aura. Her skin then turned the deepest black, her eyes glowed with a white radiance, and her long pink hair turned ghostly white.

Faced with this terrifying transformation, the group knew they had no choice but to fight her, both to stop the Hand of Light and to free their friend from the shadows. Tessabelle, now imbued with tremendous power, was a formidable opponent. Her magic had increased fivefold, and they struggled to match her strength. During the fierce battle, Tessabelle managed to strike down Arch with a powerful blast of magic, taking his life. In a desperate attempt to save her friend, Kyu rushed to Arch's side, feeling his body grow cold. Seizing this moment of vulnerability, Tessabelle began to chant a high level spell aimed at killing Kyu. But Killia, ever vigilant, saw his opportunity. He struck swiftly, his sword piercing Tessabelle's heart, stopping her chant and bringing her to the ground. As her life force ebbed away, her body crumbled into dust, scattering in the wind. Crack…

Though Kyu yearned to mourn the loss of her cherished companions, she understood that time was a luxury they could not afford. Hurrying, she then rushed to the shrine, "Killia, let’s go! We still have a chance!" Her voice echoed with urgency, but there was no response from Killia. Kyu turned to him, her eyes pleading, "C’mon, love. We are almost there, let’s not waste Arch and Tessabelle’s sacrifice."

Killia's smile seemed genuine, but there was a glint in his eye that Kyu couldn't place. "Yes… at last…" His words were cryptic and Kyu felt a shiver run down her spine. "Killia, you okay?" she asked, trying to shake off her unease.

"Never been better…" Killia slowly walked towards Kyu and pulled the dragoness into his arms. His embrace was tight, almost possessive. The scent of vanilla from Kyu’s hair filled his senses before he whispered, “I love you, Kyu…”

Kyu was confused but smiled nonetheless and hugged him back, “I love–,” but before she could express her love, a sharp pain pierced her heart. Blood started dripping to the ground, one drip... two drips… three drips… until it made a pool around their feet, staining the ground. No longer supported by Killia’s arms, Kyu lost her balance and fell to the ground. Her eyes blinked weakly as she looked up to see Killia standing over her.

There he stood as his hand stained with fresh blood, clutching something beating that belonged to the woman he professed to love. An evil grin twisted his once-kind features, casting a dark shadow over his once-warm demeanor. Then his eyes glinted with a malevolent fire, locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. He crouched down, bringing himself closer to her.

“Cursed? No… you are blessed, Kyu. You are the Kikiyomi, the mightiest… highest dragon of all,” he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before continuing, “You are not able to transform because it is not yet the time. I could imagine how pretty you are once you are able to transform, but sadly I won’t be able to see that…” Killia sighed then caressed her cheek, leaving her own blood stained her face along with her tears, “With this heart of yours, the ritual shall be completed. Thank you, Kyu… Father would be very proud of me.”

Kyu gasped, her breath catching in her throat as she whispered in disbelief, “...Father?” Her question hung in the air, barely audible above the deafening silence that engulfed them. With a final look, Killia turned and walked away, leaving Kyu alone with her shattered dreams and broken promises. She wanted to stop him, to reach out and grab him, but she found herself powerless. Crack…

There she was… with her blood spilled and the last flicker of light faded from her eyes, she could only lament the loss of the happiness she once knew, yearning for the simpler days now forever out of reach… CRASHH!!

Relationship

TBA

abilities

Combat

Fire Magic

Being a dragon, Kyu possesses a natural affinity for fire magic, enabling her to conjure and manipulate flames at will. Incantations are unnecessary, as her magic flows innately from within. Rather than relying on predefined spells, Kyu harnesses her creativity to shape her fiery attacks. For example, to create fireballs, she simply conjures her own flames or utilizes existing ones. Concentration and ingenuity are the keys to unlocking the full extent of the fire magic.

Wind Magic

Unlike fire magic, which comes naturally to dragons, mastering other elemental magics requires training and study. Dragons cannot wield water magic, and for other elements, they must chant spells. Kyu has focused on mastering wind magic as her secondary element. She can also combine her wind and fire magic to create even more potent and deadly spells. While not as potent as her fire magic, the addition of wind magic to her repertoire enhances the versatility and diversity of her magical abilities.

Dragonic Traits

• Fire Immunity, extremely weak to water
• Enhanced Power and Speed
• Night Vision
• Aura of Terror, dragons can inflict intimidation when they stare into others' eyes, need to maintain the eye contact for 30 seconds to do it

Abilities

• Best Chef, even when using limited ingredients
• Origami
• Bare Hands Fishing
• Even-Odd Dice Gambling

Equipment

• Iona, a fire salamander that Kyu found in Yuran Cave
• Magic Fan, used to help her channeling her magical power better especially non-fire
• Half burnt picture of the misifts

 

[Worthlessplebian]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

Garrett Rowe

age

35

gender

Male

height

5'9" (171 cm)

weight

166 lbs, (75 kg)

origin

The greatest and most stark divation is the emergence of a cruel, bloody war in the tropical, harsh landscapes of South America in the late 1980s, the catalysing presence of the conflict accelerated the United State's military-industrial complex, prompting the evolution of warfare technology faster than expected. The conflict was nicknamed the SAW, by the deployed soldiers, due to the sheer brutality, butchery, and depravity encountered in the deserts, jungles, mountains, or even the favelas.

in-depth

personality

The former Army sniper has always been standoffish, even before his deployment in the SAW, but underneath his craggy, hard-shelled exterior is a man who possesses an undying loyalty to the people around him. He distrusts, but does not assume, he'll keep your secrets, but does not forget them. He has consoled men at the breaking point like a chaplain, held his brother-at-arms' hands as the last embers of life extinguish in their eyes. Garret can be cold to a fault sometimes, he's seen men and women be torn to shreds, not even registering them as people. However, he is not an unmoveable mountain, the men who he called brothers wounded him the most; their deaths stung the deepest. Once, before the war, he liked to sing and even had aspirations of being a singer, though that never came to fruition, he still sings from time to time. He joined the military because he wanted to do good, do right, and he still carried that desire in his heart.

He is a consummate professional, a man devoted to his work. It is not simply a skill for him, it is an art. One exemplifying precision, accuracy, tranquility, discipline — everything after the trigger pull and the shot landing is irrelevant. This philosophy does not only extend to his combat skills, but to avenues of ability. It is an obsessive compulsion and destructive easily leading him to frustration, agitation, and harsh criticism towards himself for the personal failure.

There is a burning hatred within his heart for arrogant superiors. Often they were responsible for the lost lives on the frontlines, with their deluded, aloof decision-making. Their agendas, their ulterior interests, their selfishness. Despite his calm, restrained expressions, he has almost been court martialed for his near-insubordination. He can also be blunt, harsh, crass, or teasing. Frequently, he'll give someone a tongue lashing for a mistake they've made without remorse. And he expects it back in full. The nightmares, however, never leave him even across dimensions. In the alleys, he woke up screaming, shaking, sweating, reaching for anything to protect himself.

history

Born 1975—September 20th, Garrett Rowe spent much of his childhood life under the oppressive thumb of his single father, Marcus Rowe, who barred the tender child from many activities appropriate for children his age, instead trying to hone Garrett by sternly urging him to focus on his studies. But, even with the looming silhouette of his father over him, Garrett could simply not excel at his schoolwork. In fact, sometimes his grades declined. Frustrated at his lacklustre of a son, Marcus would wait patiently until the boy became of age and enlisted him in the armed forces. As a child, Garrett was spirited, managing a feeble resistance against his father's wishes, but by the time, he reached his adolescent years, most of his spirit was stamped out like a boot crushing a cigarette. The few friends he accrued could not help him, so when it came time to be sent off, he meekly agreed to it.

But in basic training was where Garrett found himself again; his resolve, his spirit, his defiance. The weeks were brutal, but like a molten slab of steel, Garret was moulded into shape. Refined. Just in time for the beginning of the South American War. A coalition between several countries, forged in an unshakeable bond, overtook the continent and began its relentless expansion, fueled by ideology, creed, contempt. He was eighteen years old when he was first deployed: the Battle of Tocantins River was his baptism in blood, fire, and metal. The first of many that would come to haunt his dreams decades later.

In 1999, five years after the beginning of the SAW, Sergeant Garrett Rowe was selected for a special operations mission. Politically unsavoury, highly-classified, and exceedingly dangerous. Garrett and a squad of special forces operatives. The oddity of the mission was Garrett, he had completed Sniper school, but had never attempted training for any of the elite units. Affectionately referred to as the Black Sheep by the rest. The mission entailed deep penetration into enemy-held territory to eliminate key-members in the enemy's chain of command. One of which was a former US general by the name of Winston Bishop. The squad of eight men trekked for days, after a HALO jump, through the insect-riddled jungle. They reached the city of El Fondo, where their targets will be attending an impromptu meeting organised by a mole.

However, despite Garret's—and the squad's—best efforts. Their mission had been deemed a failure after only successfully eliminating one of the designated targets. Worst still was the decimation of the soldiers. Of the eight, only four returned. With the debacle on his heels, Garrett was honourably discharged.

Returning to the Civilian world, the man was derided by an uncaring, apathetic population. His father was long deceased, a victim of cardiac arrest, leaving Garrett alone. Unable to adapt, Garrett spiralled into destitution, living on the streets, trawling for scraps to survive. Until one day, the horrid scream in a dank alleyway startled him from his evening of tipple. The urge to help had been too great then, making Garrett start into action. He would intervene, broken bottle in hand, but one fact that he learned during the war which had come back to haunt him now: both men die in a knife fight.

With his entrails spilled onto the cold, hard concrete, Garrett died a hard, but fitting death. Sacrificing his life a final time for the betterment of his fellow Man.

relationship

TBD

abilities

combat

Marksmanship, MAC (Modern Army Combatives/Hand to Hand) Training, Combat Casualty Care, Advanced Marksmanship (Sniping), Stalking;

abilities

Singing, Rod Fishing, Bushcraft, Sleeping Anywhere, Equipment Maintenance, Camouflage, Sleight of Hand Tricks, Snorkeling;

equipment

A close-fitting, jungle-patterned, camouflage combat jacket. Ragged, stitched together with various cloths found while scavenging. Army trousers, and a gray shirt;

A broken bottle, the label scratched off, but still carrying the stench of alcohol;

A medal with a golden star adorned by a red, white, and blue ribbon —The Bronze Star for heroic service in a combat zone.

notes

Spoiler: Deployment Photo, June 26th 1999

Art by Alex Alekseenko on Artstation

 

[OldTurtle]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

Chen Yifeng

age

28

gender

Male

height

177 cm (5'9.5")

weight

81 kg (178.5 lbs)

origin

The jianghu is a turbulent land, torn between an eternal conflict among the orthodox and unorthodox factions. The course of history is dictated by the whims of martial artists and entire cities and states may be razed in their wake. Power is constantly shifting hands, and none have managed to maintain it for very long yet. Within every shadow lies a hidden dagger, and behind every stone, a coiling viper. In these times where danger is around every corner, only the strong have the ability to take charge of their fate. This is no place for the weak.

in-depth

personality

Yifeng is a man who abides by only the strictest sense of honor and righteousness. Defend the weak and down-trodden, overthrow tyranny and evil, fight for all that is good and pure, in this world or in any other. Honest and straightforward, he is practically incapable of deceit. He cannot stand to let an injustice pass unopposed, and this is a devotion that has put his life in danger many times. Never once has he regretted it. In Yifeng's eyes, a life without honor is not one worth living. He is a "good" man, one who protects those without the strength to protect themselves and cherishes the bonds he makes throughout his journies. It is the moral responsibility of those with strength to wield it for the sake of the weak, to ensure that they are not taken advantage of. Those who abandon their duties also abandon their humanity; they become less than wild beasts, deserving of the lowest of deaths. "Right" and "wrong" are so obviously delineated that surely only those who willfully cause harm fall into the latter category. His blade, at any rate, will hear no arguments to the contrary.

history

Chen Yifeng was born in a small town nested into the base of the Kongtong Mountains, home of the illustrious Kongtong Sect. As such, he grew up on the ouskirts of the jianghu, with a constant stream of martial artists and pugilists passing through the settlement on their way to and from the mountaintop sect. Raised on the stories of these proud warrior's achievements and their role as a pillar of the wulin, the young boy idolized them and their values, just as every other resident did. Located so close to a major orthodox sect, the town had never been threatened by bandits, cults, or any of the many other villains plaguing the lands, a safety guaranteed to very few. As such, it was at a young age that Yifeng resolved to become one of these righteous martial artists, to become a chivalrous xia of legend. His mother, as she was wont to do, fretted -- "Oh, Feng'er, I worry too much! Why can you not stay and become a blacksmith like your dear father?" -- but his father gave his support -- "Ha! Yes, a son of mine must dare to dream big! I raised a man to be proud of." -- and upon coming of age, Yifeng departed to begin his journey.

Admission into the Kongtong Sect as an outer disciple was a struggle worthy of history books. Well, it felt as such at the time. A chubby boy with no training to speak of, Yifeng was laughed away at the sect's entrance when he appeared on their doorstep wielding a simple jian forged by his father. He refused to leave and spent the first night camped out in front of the barred gates. This continued for the next two days. On the fourth, the bemused guards, realizing the extent of his stubborness, attempted to convince him to leave with reason. If he occupied the space and impeded the sect's business, they would have to forcibly remove him for the intrusion. Recognizing their logic, Yifeng moved aside six meters and camped out beside the gate instead. When the guards claimed that the all land around the sect's bounds were their property, he suspended a sleeping roll from the branches of a large maple tree and slept there. For over a week, he and the guards struggled, with them finding increasingly more tenuous ways to remove him without beating the boy away and him finding increasingly more absurd ways around them.

At this point, one of the sect's elders, sufficiently entertained by the whole monkey business, stepped in and permitted Yifeng to undergo the outer disciple examinations. By some heavenly machination, he scraped by and, exactly a fortnight after departing from home, Chen Yifeng was inducted into the prestigious Kongtong Sect. He took to his new home well, managing to make up for his inexperience through hard work and devotion. Though far from the talented geniuses who rose to wulin stardom in his youth, Yifeng had a natural inclination to martial arts and quickly closed the gap with his peers.

Life was blissful. Every day, Yifeng and his newfound brothers and sisters rose with the sun and spent their days training and completing a long list of chores and tasks before retiring at night to begin the cycle anew. It was a struggle, and in his first year Yifeng sweat and bled more than he had in his entire life prior. Despite the incredibly demanading expectations set before him, the young man could see his path before him. Each day, another step closer to that ultimate goal. The thought filled him with boundless energy and bore him forward through the days.

The downfall of the Kongtong Sect came unforseen. How could anyone have predicted the collapse of one of the largest and proudest bastions of the wulin? They were invulnerable, just as they had persisted for centuries prior. Their strength was indisputable. But the machinations of evil run deeper than could be imagined. In the wet heat of summer and cloaked in the shadow of night, the Demonic Tiger Cult made their move. Yifeng woke to fire and blood, his sect's proud walls and gates rendered useless by the assault of one of the foremost powers of the unorthodox factions. Dizzied and confused, he took up his blade to join the battle, but it was lost before it had ever began. The Kongtong Sect had forgotten one of the core tenets of the jianghu: for every high mountain there is an even higher mountain.

Reduced to flames, the remnants of the sect fled the crowing cultists. Even having lost their home, these mountains were theirs, and the disciples -- those few who survived -- were swallowed by the dark forests, where their assailants could no longer pursue. With pain in his heart and tears in his eyes, Yifeng ran onward. Even as his bare feet split against the hard stones and roots he could not bear to look behind, to watch as black smoke billowed from the mountaintop like a ghastly beacon of evil's triumph over good. Instead he descended, down to the town he called home. Had called home. It had not been spared from the cult's violence and without any strength the speak of, the demonic forces rampaged unopposed. There was nothing left for him there.

So onward he ran again. Into land he'd never known, never seen, he ran. His muscles burned and darkness crept in at the edge of his vision. He ran. His limbs grew numb and his blood painted the earth crimson. He ran and ran and ran until at last, as the sun began to break the horizon, he arrived at a small farming village, miraculously missed in the cult's assault. The arrival of a exhausted, bloodstained boy dressed in the robes of a disciple of Kongtong caused an outcry, but he managed to deliver news of the tragedy just before collapsing unconscious, finally safe.

When he woke, Yifeng was overcome with grief. That grief quickly gave way to anger, and that anger cooled into hardened resolve. He understood now, more than ever, the cruelties of evil and the magnitude of the task set before him.

Regrouping with several of his peers, Yifeng made his way to the Mount Heng Sect, a close ally of the Kongtong Sect. Recognizing their plight, the Daoist sect accepted the former disciples with open arms. Under their guidance, Yifeng resumed his training. No longer motivated by the idyllic innocence of his childhood, he found himself further empassioned by a sincere contempt of Demonic Tiger Cult and their ilk -- of all villains and misdoers. They were beyond redemption. Every last one of them.

He grew stronger faster, in bounds and leaps incomparable to his progress over the past four years. Yifeng's new masters attributed it to the strength of his will; in withstanding the greatest of tribulations, he had reforged it into something greater than it should have been. Perseverance remained in his heart, triumphing over the sadness, the fear, and the anger. Perseverance tightened his grip and drove the point of his saber through his enemies.

Yet one trial was not enough. Two years later, the patriarch of the Mount Heng Sect vanished. Without a clue as to his whereabouts, the sect fell into disarray. His disciples, each leading elders of the sect, began a fierce struggle for power. Each coveted the seat of patriarch and each was equally qualified to seize it. The sect fragmented into factions and the brewing conflict quickly grew unstoppable. The proud Mount Heng Sect shattered all on its own, crushed under the weight of its own greed.

Again, Yifeng escaped as one of the few survivors. Too new to be truly embroiled in the struggle but strong enough to defend himself, he'd managed to avoid the bloodshed that took the lives of hundreds of martial artists. This time, Yifeng's resolve held firm. He moved forward unflinchingly, taking away another understanding of the jianghu: the sins of man ran deep, even among the greatest of the supposedly-virtuous Daoists and Buddhists. All were capable of committing the worst of evils.

And so Yifeng moved on. For as long as he had more to learn, more to master, he moved on. When his third sect fell apart -- this time when a great storm, the likes of which none had ever seen before, practically swept the entire compound out to sea, he moved to a fourth. And when that one collapsed, he sought out a fifth, and a sixth. With each, he came away with a new understanding. Of the fickleness of nature, the weakness of the self, the value of brotherhood, of everything he needed to know. In time, he made a name for himself. In part due to his skill with the saber, but mostly because of his reputation. An omen of death. Wherever he walked, destruction followed. Yifeng paid no attention to those rumors. He knew the heavens were just testing him. Tempering him. Under the masterful hands of its craftsmen, he was forged into a blade of divine quality. An agent of their will, capable of cutting down every last sinner plaguing the jianghu. It was his role, his responsibility to ensure that no evil went unopposed. When no other sect would accept him, would teach him, he began to teach himself. He honed his blade against the whetstone of evil, hunting down criminals and vagabonds with prejudice.

It was during one of these excursions against unorthodox forces that Yifeng entered the village of Yinhua. A peaceful settlement comprised of mostly farmers, it was a place he'd traveled through before. One of the few populated regions so far from civilization, Yifeng frequently stopped at the village to rest and resupply on his long journeys. The villagers were kind people, always accomodating to him and eager to receive the latest tales of his journies. He expected to do much the same that day. Instead, as he approached, the coppery tang of blood filled the air. Pulling his dao free, Yifeng rushed down into the village to find himself too late. In the village center stood a bloodstained man with a massive guandao in hand, surrounded by the gory corpses of the villagers, like some devil crawled up from the depths of hell. Yifeng paused, seeing the broken bodies of the men and women he'd grown to know scattered across the ground.

"Demon!" He cried, flushed with righteous fury. "You dare to bring your villainy to these lands?!" In an instant he closed the distance between the two, bringing his saber down to bear. It crashed into the murderer's raised weapon with a jarring scrape, and all his momentum came to a sudden halt. Yifeng's eyes narrowed. This man was a cut above your usual bandits and brigands. He disengaged as the man delivered a swift kick to Yifeng's side, narrowly blocking it with the flat of his blade.

"Demon? The demons you seek, I have already slain. What is so villainous about killing those who wished to kill me?"

The nonchalant expression painted across that man's face only solidified Yifeng's resolve. "Do not think to sway me with your wretched lies." He gestured with the tip of his dao to each of the fallen villagers. "Weili, a father of three. His youngest, not even a season old. Young Ziwei, hardly more than a child. She dreamt of becoming a painter. Yuan'er, who returned to this village only to care for his ailing mother! I knew these people as though they were my own brothers and sisters -- and you claim them demons?! Lies! Come face your death, coward."

And again he moved forward, the Jade Eagle Saber in his hands glinting under the harsh sunlight. In his hands, the masterwork came to life, and it danced with the Soaring Phoenix Saber Style, a flurry of sharp, heavy blows that knew no end. His opponent matched the strikes, wielding the heavy polearm as if it were feather-light. Back and forth the duo went, neither able to seize an advantage in their equally-matched struggle. It was as if the man had an extrasensory perception, able slip away without fail whenever Yifeng found an opporunity to strike. Too engaged in their fight, Yifeng was caught off guard when the murderer suddenly spun, kicking up a clod of dirt directly into the bladesman's eyes. He fell back with a cry, blinking sharply to clear his vision.

And yet the other man did not pursue. The two stood several paces apart, with their weapons held ready and shoulders heaving for breath. Both fighters were close to their limits and this brief respite was too valuable. After a tense moment, the devil spoke. “You are blessed with sight and cannot even see the trickery happening right in front of you? Your mind is clouded by your emotions, these are not the people you knew.”

Why try to lie again? Surely he didn't think Yifeng would just let this go now? The martial artist's brows furrowed as he fixed a wary glare on the other man. And then, out of the corner of his eye, something glinted. Remaining facing toward his opponent, Yifeng slowly reached out with the tip of his blade and withdrew from under a nearby corpse a small, metallic plate. In the sun, its shape was unmistakeable.

Demonic Tiger Cult.

Yifeng could never forget their sigil. This symbol was burned into his memory just as it had been burned into the crumbling walls of the Kongtong Sect. So then-?

"-Ah!" A piercing pain bloomed across Yifeng's side and he crumpled to his knees. Reaching for the wound, he yanked free a small, pointed needle, one of the most notorious assassination tools used by the cult. They were here. Immediately, his body began to grow numb, spreading from the site of the wound: poison. Yifeng acted swiftly, pressing down on several points across his torso to stymie to flow of the poison into his bloodstream, but it was already too late. Already his right arm and much of his side had grown unfeeling.

Yifeng tried to stumble to his feet, woozy from the effects of the poison. Even as he lifted his saber in one hand, the cultists were on them, having come crashing around the corners and flowing into the village like a flood. Yifeng swung, cutting down first one, then another cultist. But even as he watered the earth with their blood, they continued ceaselessly. Cuts opened across every inch of his skin as Yifeng grit his teeth and continued to fight. Not yet, not when there was more of these fiends to stamp out! Chunks of flesh and bone spilt across the ground but he fought on. Even after his saber fell from his unresponsive hands, even as his guts spilt open, even as more of his body fell to the floor than remained connected to him, he fought to the bitter end. They would pay in blood today. He would burn the name of Chen Yifeng into the minds of all those present!

And for the first and last time of his life, Chen Yifeng failed in the face of a tribulation.

...Or did he?

relationship

Chang Jingyi: Not quite a foe, certainly not a friend. Though the two were opponents before their deaths, they share a common enemy and goal. As for the rest, only time will tell.

abilities

combat

• Soaring Pheonix Saber Style: An aggressive saber style focused on overwhelming the opponent using a series of heavy, brutal blows without leaving openings to rest. The individual moves of the style can be blended together in any order to flow unpredictably.
• Twelve Styles of Evil Slaying Saber: A balanced saber style focused on slowly and methodically wearing down the opponent. The first six moves are the most defensive, best used against groups of opponents. The next two are intended to help the user forcefully seize the momentum of the battle, and the last four are used to cut down the opponents without mercy.
• Seven Mystical Fists: A dianxue fist technique where one strikes at an opponent's pressure points and meridians to disable movement and their qi flow. By using this technique to inject one's qi into another's body, the user may either cause internal damage or help stabilize another's body.
• Cloudy Feather Steps: A qinggong technique that makes one light as a feather and swift as the wind. In the hands of a master, this technique allows the user to leap from treetop to treetop and even run across water.
• Saber Qi: The application of internal qi to the wielded saber, increasing its strength and sharpness. Saber qi allows the user to rend metal and flesh with ease, all without so much as nicking the blade.
• Steel Body Skill: A neigong technique that greatly increases one's strength, speed, stamina, and fortitude, as well as aiding in recovery and encouraging the flow and production of qi.

abilities

• Blacksmithing
• (Awful) Poetry
• Stratagems and Formations
• Traversing Harsh Terrain

equipment

• Jade Eagle Saber: A sect heirloom dao that fell into Yifeng's hands along his journey. Of a fine enough make to nearly qualify as a treasure, it has never once failed him.
• Leatherbound Journal: a slim journal within which Yifeng has written the name of every villain he decides he must slay in charcoal. Most of the names have been crossed out neatly.
• Robes: a set of simple white robes he wore during the final clash with Jingyi.
• 20 Silver Taels

 

[Bloody_Death]

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basics

name

Jingyi Chang || 畅 静怡 Chàng Jìngyí

age

Twenty-Six

gender

Male

height

5'6 || 168 cm

weight

141 lbs || 64 kgs

origin

The jianghu is a turbulent land, torn between an eternal conflict among the orthodox and unorthodox factions. The course of history is dictated by the whims of martial artists and entire cities and states may be razed in their wake. Power is constantly shifting hands, and none have managed to maintain it for very long yet. Within every shadow lies a hidden dagger, and behind every stone, a coiling viper. In these times where danger is around every corner, only the strong have the ability to take charge of their fate. This is no place for the weak.

in-depth

personality

Jingyi has a very straightforward and blunt personality. As someone who just wants to get things done, he doesn’t enjoy when things linger on longer than they should. He says things as it is and tries to make all things known right at the start to avoid most misunderstandings. This type of behavior stems from his childhood, where he struggled with understanding the tone of others while also not being able to see expressions. He needed people to be upfront with him so he’d understand things, and in turn he’d return that upfrontness right back. Of course, Jingyi has much more social awareness than he did as a child, but his habit of getting straight to the point hasn’t changed over the years.

.

Aside from that peeve, he doesn’t completely dislike small talk. He just hates it when it gets in the way of things that actually need to be talked about or used to avoid certain topics. He enjoys listening to people talk and things around him. As it’s the only way he’s really able to perceive the world. Through the sounds around him. He doesn’t like when things are too loud as his hearing is quite sensitive. But he also hates complete silence as it makes him anxious. He still has this fear of being alone and often relies on the sounds of people and things around him to reassure him that he’s not existing in some sort of void and is still present in the world somewhere.

history

Jingyi was a child born blind. Much of his early life consists of faint figures and flashing lights. That’s all he could comprehend when he was firstborn. However, after a few years, this shifted into total blindness. By the time he was old enough to be able to remember anything, his entire world was nothing but darkness, feelings, and sounds. Living this way was fine for him. It was all he’s ever known so what else could he even compare it to? His parents were still very loving and attentive to him despite the extra care he needed due to his disability. The saddest part of this life was just the fact that he’d never got the chance to see the faces of his parents and friends.

This peaceful life wouldn’t last forever. Jingyi’s village was a small and fairly poor one. Living out in the countryside where everyone knew each other, everyone was either a farmer or fisherman, far from any of the major cities. Maybe it was just a long stroke of luck that finally ran out that led to the downfall of the small village. Jingyi was no older than six years old. Yet he remembers it so vividly in his mind. The smell of smoke, the sound of familiar people crying out, and the feeling of the hot air around him as his mother clutched onto him. Jingyi couldn’t tell what was happening. He could hear bad things happening but he couldn’t see. Every time he tried to ask what was wrong, his mother just kept telling him to hush.

After a bit of shuffling, he was soon placed into a hidden compartment in the floor. Still confused as his mother held his face and kissed his cheeks.

“Jingyi, promise Mama you’ll behave and sit in your favorite hiding spot quietly, okay? You’re going to play hide and seek and you have to make sure you don’t get found.”

“Why are we playing…? Where’s Papa at?”

“He’s outside, dear. Now just stay here and be very quiet. No matter what you hear you can’t come out until it’s completely silent.”

Jingyi was a bit frustrated and scared about being left alone but he trusted his mother. Letting himself get hidden inside the floor. If he knew that this would be the last time he would ever hear his mother’s voice, he wouldn’t have let it just end like this. But in this current moment, all he could do was cover his ears and try to block out all the sounds. The screaming and the rumbling he had to ignore it all and stay hidden just like he was told to.

At some point, Jingyi managed to drift off to sleep. Waking up the next morning to the sound of nothing. Was it okay for him to come out now? He waited a bit longer to make sure no one was walking by before pushing the trap door up. He coughed as a heavy smell of smoke rushed at him. Why was this nasty smell still here?

“Mama! Papa!” He called out as he slowly began making his way out of the house. He’s walked around this house enough to know how to make his way out with little help. So long as he had his hand on the wall that is. However, the house was much messier than he expected. He kept tripping over things on the floor that weren’t normally there. He made sure to be extra careful now.

He soon found his way outside. Stepping down the patio before stopping when he felt his foot bumped into something. Crouching down and feeling around before smiling. “Is that you, Mama and Papa? Why are you on the floor?” He asked, touching the bodies in front of him. But why didn’t they say anything? This felt like his mother and father…he kept poking and trying to make them speak. Not knowing that what lay in front of him was just the corpses of his parents. After many desperate attempts to try and shake them awake to speak to him, he started getting scared again. If they didn’t talk to him how would he know what’s wrong!?

The cries and shouts that usually led to his mother and father running to him weren’t working. No one was coming. It was too quiet. Last night it was too loud, and right now it was too quiet. Suddenly, there was a sound. The sound of someone coming. His head was quick to turn in the direction of those footsteps. Was it a person? When he called out the steps began moving closer to him before finally stopping as he felt the presence of someone standing in front of him.

“Why are you crying, child?”

Jingyi flinched at the sound of this voice. It was deep and a bit raspy. Nothing like anyone he’s heard before.

“Who are you, uncle?” Jingyi stared up in the direction of the voice. The stranger didn’t respond and it started making him a bit anxious again. “Uncle you have to keep talking. I can’t see anything.” He spoke, he was used to having to make this known to others. However, he got an odd response. A laugh from the man.

“A child who cannot see. That makes sense.” The man spoke softly as he crouched down. He had a very jarring appearance from heavy injuries he sustained before. He’s heard many children cry and run away from him, yet this one stared at him. Ignorant to what he was looking at. A child was stranded in a destroyed village and shaking at one of the corpses on the ground. “Are these your parents?”

“Mhm…this feels like my mama and papa. But she won’t say anything. Is she asleep, uncle? She’s also wet…my hands are all wet…” He held up his hands to the man. They were coated in blood rather than water though.

The man…didn’t know what to say. What was he supposed to say in this situation…could a child handle the harsh truth? “Your mother is not going to wake up. Everyone in this village has entered an eternal sleep to enter the afterlife. You are the only one left.” His words were bitter. What a familiar scene this was.

“Huh?” Jingyi was stunned. Reaching down to touch his mother’s body. Noticing how cold it was. He couldn’t hear her breathing either. She’s not alive anymore…it wasn’t long till the child broke into tears. Sobbing into his dead parent’s torso. Hugging and begging for her to wake back up. What was he going to do!? He relied on both his parents so much due to his lack of sight. But now he was all alone. He couldn’t survive like this.

During this panic, he felt rough hands grabbing his own. Wiping away at the red wetness on his hand before feeling himself getting picked up. Before he knew it he was being carried away by this uncle without another word. He wanted to cry and shout to be put back down so he could return to his parents’ side…but then what? All he could do was hold onto this stranger who was taking him away from this nightmare. Soon falling asleep and waking up later, still holding onto this uncle. “Where are we going, Uncle…” He mumbled in a soft voice as he rubbed at his red and tired eyes. But before he could question him more something was shoved against his mouth. It was food! Half of a large warm bao that he slowly munched on alongside the uncle. Marking the start of the adventures of Jingyi and Uncle Bao! He still didn’t know his name.

For the next several years, he traveled with this uncle who he’d soon call his master. And during this time his master would help improve his hearing and spatial awareness despite not having access to one of his key senses. The goal was to allow him to function like he could see despite not seeing. Many years were dedicated to perfecting this. And once he was finally at this mark, he began learning how to fight.

‘To survive you fight for yourself. To protect you fight for others.’

That’s what his master told him that day. He remembers the first day he was handed a weapon. A Guandao that he could barely lift off the ground. He still remembers the embarrassment he felt as his master laughed at him for being so weak. Just when he thought he was done with his training, he realized that this was barely the surface of what his master wanted to teach him. Oh how naive he was to think it would be so easy.

His entire adolescence and even the start of his adulthood were all dedicated to his training. Jingyi followed his master diligently and at the age of twenty, he was given a makeshift graduation ceremony. After finally learning everything his master had to teach and pass on, he was free to set on his own path to continue growing. Jingyi wasn’t sure what he really wanted. He’s been working hard to learn and improve in order to make his master happy. That’s still what he wanted to this day. And to also remain by his side, but that was more of a given. The pair continued to travel. Sometimes together, other times separately. Both learning and growing together as they travel across the jianghu for the upcoming years.

It was just another day, Jingyi and his master had split paths once again and set off on their own. Much like his usual solo traveling, he just followed the direction of the wind and the sounds he heard in the distance. But then a very concerning smell filled the air. A scent of smoke quickly caused him to cover his nose with his sleeve. Smoke always found a way to make him anxious. Recalling the sounds of screams and voices he tried so hard to forget. This had to be the smell he hated the most. It never led to anything good. After a moment to compose himself, he began heading towards the direction of the smoke. The direction he was heading him should have led him to a village he and his master traveled through before, so he wanted to make sure it was okay. He couldn’t hear any screaming or crying, so that was a good thing. But as he grew closer, something just felt very…off.

He entered the village where the source of the smell was coming from. And right away he noticed something strange about these villagers. Most villages close to the countryside had little to no martial artist. But right now? Everyone present had some sort of developed qi that was very uncommon for places like this. It was suspicious. Not to mention there was a faint smell of blood lingering in the air. He soon approached one of the ‘villagers’ here. Asking if anything has happened recently. He tried to stay subtle, to hide the very obvious suspicion he had. But clearly, it wasn’t enough. The moment he tried to talk to one of the people here, he could hear the faint moving happening behind him. Quickly stepping aside as he felt the force of the blade flying past him, his hands already on his own weapon as he stepped back. Narrowly avoiding the swinging blade from the person he was just talking with. He frowned to himself as he realized what was happening. It was an ambush.

The battle that followed drew out a lot longer than he wished, but eventually, he cut down the last of the attackers. Hearing their blade and body hit the ground before doing a quick scan of the area to try and sense if there was anyone else remaining nearby. To his surprise, there actually was someone. But they seemed to just be entering the village. They also had a very developed qi. Had another martial artist come to investigate the village as well?

“Demon! You dare to bring your villainy to these lands?!”

Jingyi flinched when he was suddenly shouted at, but he didn’t even get a moment to question it as the stranger was quickly closing in on him. He just finished dealing with the first round of attackers, and now he has to deal with this guy. He raised his weapon to block the downward strike, having to use all his strength just to not get pushed down by the force. This person was in a whole different league compared to the people from before. He delivered a swift kick to the side of the person’s body before retreating a small bit to properly ready himself.

“Demon? The demons you seek I have already slain. What is so villainous about killing those who wished to kill me?”

"Do not think to sway me with your wretched lies." Jingyi watched with an uneasy gaze as the stranger gestured with the tip of his dao to each of the fallen villagers.

"Weili, a father of three. His youngest, not even a season old. Young Ziwei, hardly more than a child. She dreamt of becoming a painter. Yuan'er, who returned to this village only to care for his ailing mother! I knew these people as though they were my own brothers and sisters -- and you claim them demons?! Lies! Come face your death, coward."

He tensed up as the man approached again, but this time he was prepared. The clash of blades echoed around the empty village. Jingyi was already a bit tired from the fight before, so he couldn’t let this battle draw out for too long. Whether that be by convincing the other to stop and listen for a moment, or striking him down and making him stop by force. Struggling against the swordman’s relentless attacks, he needed to find a way to stop him. Soon reaching the conclusion to use the loose dirt and rubble on the ground to his advantage. Kicking some of it up towards the stranger before pushing him away and hopping back.

He couldn’t help but sigh at the unfortunate outcome. While he was not close to any of these villagers, he did know of them a little bit, but clearly not as much as this stranger. But one thing was for sure, and it was that these people were not the villagers either of them knew. If he had to guess, these imposters had already killed and taken the appearance of the villagers here.

“You are blessed with sight and cannot even see the trickery happening right in front of you? Your mind is clouded by your emotions, these are not the people you knew.”

It seemed this time, his words finally managed to break through to the man. Causing Jingyi to sigh in relief as this pointless battle was finally over. His mood had soured considerably for several reasons now, and he was about to leave and leave this man to grieve in peace before feeling a sharp pain in his lower back. There were more of these enemies. He froze, guessing that this dart was most likely poisoned by the numbing feeling he could already feel on his back and not trying to spread it more. He quickly pulled the dart out and focused on trying to circulate his qi. If he could just reduce the spread for just a bit before he had to move, even a few more seconds would be better than nothing, but there wouldn’t be enough time. The next wave of enemies were already coming and he wouldn’t be able to outrun them in this state.

He gritted his teeth, what else could he do besides fight to the very end and hope for some miracle to save him. But it never came. Fighting to the bitter end just like hundreds of martial artists before. Some would call it honorable, but he didn’t give a damn about honor. What good was honor when it came at the cost of his life? He soon collapsed on the ground. At least the numbing of the poison was lessening the pain of the wounds littering his body. If only he could trade in all the honor in him to stand alongside his master for just a moment longer. What a sad end.

relationship

Chen Yifeng ↠ "He reminds me of other martial artists I've run into. He's the act now think later type of fighter..."

abilities

combat

............................ ↠ Rippling Waves Spear Technique ↠ A balanced spear technique that focuses on redirecting and countering attacks

............................ ↠ Stone-Crushing Waterfall Spear Technique ↠ An offensive spear technique that focuses on heavy piercing attacks to deal damage.

............................ ↠ Flowing Rivers ↠ A movement technique that allows for increased agility. It's like you're walking on water!

............................ ↠ Calming Pond ↠ An internal technique that focuses on regenerating qi and healing wounds.

............................ ↠ Spear Qi ↠ Reinforces weapon and strengths attacks

abilities

............................ ↠ Hightened sense of Hearing and Smell

............................ ↠ Detection of Qi

............................ ↠ Board Games

............................ ↠ Flute Playing

............................ ↠ Dancing

equipment

............................ ↠ Guandao

............................ ↠ Small Locket

............................ ↠ Dizi

headcanons

↠ His favorite board game to play in his free time is Go

↠ While he struggles to properly style his hair due to his lack of vision, he enjoys messing and playing with hair. Both his own and others.

↠ He keeps a blindfold over his eyes as the brightness, or lack of brightness, can disorient him if it changes too rapidly.

↠ The locket that he carries on him all the time has two different paintings. One of him with his parents and one of him with his master.

 

[Nano]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

angela

age

twenty-four (24)

gender

female

height

168cm

weight

depends on who's asking

origin

Where Angela hails from, Earth as we know it no longer exists, having been through a cycle of abandonment, recovery, and resettlement by mankind over the course of a thousand years. Though many museums across the universe have sections dedicated to the history of life on Earth, it is by no means a central power.

In an era where interstellar travel has become a matter as simple as buying a ticket to the next galaxy through the use of wormholes and warp gates, the major players within the universe have taken to occupying or colonizing entire planets. One such superpower is the Telva Empire that rules over much of the Odessa Galaxy and the territory that Angela’s planet, Mahler-β resides in.

Prior to the Empire’s arrival, Mahler-β was said to have once been the home to a race of intelligent beings whose appearances were remarkably similar to the humans of Earth, though their eye and hair colors had a higher degree of variance in comparison to their Earth counterparts. The planet first caught the Empire’s eye when they detected large deposits of Astrium, a rare but vital component of a special alloy used only in the highest quality mechs and military-grade space crafts. Having sensed the Empire’s ill intent, the inhabitants of Mahler-β vehemently refused to allow the foreigners to destroy their planet for the resources hidden within but were quickly defeated. The Empire culled them by the millions, and those who survived died when they were incapable of adapting to the wasteland that their world had become.

In the current era, Mahler-β is unrecognizable and has become nothing but a lawless sanctuary for shunned races and stowaways as well as a graveyard for mechs and soldiers who fell down to the planet during the Empire’s skirmishes with neighboring coalitions. As desolate as their lands are, the Empire still possesses a military base on the planet which they use on occasion, and the people of Mahler-β dare not refuse them despite their general distaste for the Empire.

The few remaining on Mahler-β are acutely aware that they’re insignificant—so insignificant that the genocide of the Nilim race has been written off as an accident in most history books.

personality

Tempered by death and destruction yet by no means jaded, Angela is a soul who marches forward with determination burning in her eyes no matter the obstacle. Those who meet her for the first time find it difficult to believe she hails from a ruined world whether it be her clothes or the unfailing positivity that refuses to cower before the gravest of situations. Strength holds her words steady at all times, and she continues to seek a way forward no matter how tough the going becomes. Precisely due to the state of the planet she called home, she learned to cherish sweet memories rather than grieve over lost treasures. She sees the beauty in the small details, discovering the radiance hidden within the dullest of gems.

Scrutinize her lack of compliance with rules, however, and the influence of her origins slowly unravels. Within that lawless land, a strong sense of community has managed to reign Angela in on the straight and narrow. That isn’t to say that she’s above robbing corpses and other acts that others might find to be dishonorable or vile. To her, every scrap counts, and so long as it’s not of direct harm to the living, she was willing to do whatever it took to allow her younger siblings to spend the next winter in comfort. As gently worded (albeit with a hint of sarcasm) as her arguments are, she’s incredibly stubborn regarding how she decides to live her life, even if her ideologies are not considered a strict necessity in her current setting.

For what she lacks in malleability, she makes up for in her sensitivity towards the needs of others. No matter how well someone masks their inner turmoils, she seemingly possesses a supernatural ability to determine their emotional state, and years of dealing with moody teenagers and cranky uncles and aunties has her gauging an appropriate distance with ease. Oddly enough, there are a few people she’ll avoid for the reason of “I don’t like their color” which has brought about more than a few questions and the occasional accusation of racism. A bit of an airhead, she's yet to realize that perhaps she should have phrased it a bit differently.

history

Lillian 1

“Uncle Tahe brought a little girl to the orphanage today saying that her mother passed away a few days ago. She looks to be about five? And it seems like she’s a Nilim based on the red rim around her pupils.

She doesn’t talk, but I think she just doesn’t want to speak, since she’ll still answer me with small hums when we’re alone. She listens well to the older kids, but she seems to be having trouble fitting in with the little ones.”

Lillian 2

“I’ve had a talk with Thelessa, and it’s clear I’m not imagining things. Angela seems to avoid people who are angry, even when they hide that anger well enough that the other children can’t tell we’re mad. Does she possess the fabled ability to sense emotions?”

Thaniel 1

“Lily and Lesa keep telling me to play nice with the new girl. She doesnt talk. How do we play together. Im a hole two years older and super nice tho so Im teaching her how to reed and right.”

Despite his boasting, the young boy’s penmanship is messy and dances across the page wildly.

Thelessa 1

“It’s been two weeks since Lily disappeared. There’s nothing. Not a single piece of clothing or even a strand of her hair was left behind. There’s no way she’d abandon us, so where has she gone? Thaniel’s been looking for her every day in the forest nearby, but there’s no body or patches of disturbed dirt.

Have the soldiers taken her? But why? When I mustered up the courage to approach their base, they threatened me for making false accusations and chased me away.

IfshedoesntreturnI-”

The writing on the page grows increasingly messy, gradually becoming illegible until even the hand that penned the unsent letter cannot make sense of the words. Several spots upon the page are stained with dark patches of runny ink and are warped as a result of coming in contact with droplets of liquid.

Thelessa 2

“Angela found Lily’s favorite ribbon three days ago. I asked if I could have it, but she brushed past me and locked herself up in her room. At the time, I was overcome with anger and couldn’t help but kick her door, but she still didn’t respond.

She suddenly came out this morning, clapping her hands together and yelling at the kids to wake up and set the table for breakfast while she did the laundry. It was the first time we heard her voice, and everyone was shocked.

Then, I saw the ribbon she used to tie back her hair.

I’ve been a terrible older sister, haven’t I?

Upstaged by a thirteen-year-old, I couldn’t help but laugh as she gently wiped my tears away.”

Mr. Thomas

“A strange little girl came up to me and asked who made my clothes. Scared the crap outta me when she snuck up all quiet like that. Told her that my wife sewed them and quickly left.

Found her in the same spot the next day, and she ran up to me the moment she saw me.

Don’t know why her folks didn’t teach her not to follow strangers back to their homes, but she somehow ended up taking tailoring lessons from Ela. For someone so young, she’s pretty good with her hands.”

Sybil

“Angela finally let me see what she hid in the shed for two years! It looks like some kind of animal, and I don’t know how she got that hunk of metal moving on its own, but it’s pretty cool. Useful, too. I think she called it Tod? Well, thanks to Tod, we don’t have to lug wood back to the shelter anymore.”

A young girl roughly the age of fifteen speaks animatedly from atop a ladder as she helps an elderly man harvest fruit from a tree.

Thaniel 2

“That Angela. I don’t know what she’s thinking. She’s always bringing junk from the mech graveyard home, but Asterians from Gargantua? Even if the soldiers from the Empire don’t catch on, how do we know we can trust them?”

Aia 1

“When we crash landed in the middle of a forest in Mahler-β, I thought this was the end for me and my daughter.

A young woman accompanied by a white mech discovered us while we were foraging for food. I thought she was from the Telva Empire’s military, but she took one look at the telltale features of our race and escorted us to a shelter of some kind. I saw her arguing with someone before she left with a few supplies and helped us set up a temporary home elsewhere.

She’s a bit strange, as if she can tell exactly what we’re thinking and knows what to say in response. Nio seems to like playing with her, and she’s been fixing up our spacecraft while hiding us from the military, so I think we can trust her for now.”

Aia 2

Ǐ̷̮̲̜͚̜͐̄͑̃̓'̸̨̰͇̞͕͎̺͖̭̺̥̹̀̽́ͅͅm̵͙̲̬̺͔̲͕̞͇̰̜̈́̊̽̇͒̒̎ͅ ̸̩͇̗͕͇̳̜͛̎̂s̴͖̜̍̌̄̎͂̐͐̏̽̒̋͋̃́ȯ̷̢̨̪̖̬̮̯̜̥̗̘́̊̇̉̍͂̄̈́̍̿̿͂ͅr̸̢͈͓̝͈̍͑͆̏͌̆̀̈̀͜͠͠͝ͅṛ̷̆̂́̌y̶̡̟̮̬̭̓́̋̈́̈̀̓̐̋͐̈́͘͘

Thaniel 3

“‘I arrogantly said that if saving someone is a crime, then I’ll gladly lay down my life. Hey, Thaniel. Truthfully, I don’t want to die. There are still things I wanted to do.’

She was too far gone to notice those Asterians were still in the room with me, but I’m glad they heard her last words. Angela wouldn’t want this, but I hope they’re haunted by those words forever. If it weren’t for them, that damned sadistic lieutenant or whatever wouldn’t have punched holes through her frail body for harboring the enemy.

Angela fixed up their spacecraft, so they left. But not soon enough.

Why her? What did she do that was so wrong that she had to pay with her life?”

relationships

TBA

abilities

Combat

Given that her race is known for being physically frail and her dedication to the study of mechs, Angela has notably poor combat capabilities when stripped of equipment. Compared to the average human, her physical abilities are nothing noteworthy and she possesses neither any knowledge of martial arts nor special abilities that are of direct aid in combat.

Abilities

Empath:

A rarely inherited ability given the dilution their blood has experienced, those descended of the Nilim race native to Mahler-β occasionally express a heightened sensitivity to emotions. As an inheritor of this ability, Angela is capable of seeing emotion in the form of colored auras that are initially faint but grow stronger in proportion to the intensity of the emotions being felt. Depending on the individual’s personality, these auras may be tinged with additional hues and one person’s anger may be a different shade compared to another. Some auras may also overlap in the case of conflicting emotions.

The mechanism behind this ability is largely unknown, as their race was nearly eradicated before it could be well studied. Initially, researchers hypothesized that people of the Nilim race merely possessed heightened intuition linked to color synesthesia. However, the accuracy of their ability to pinpoint emotions regardless of the vast differences in body language and facial expressions across various races has largely debunked the hypothesis that they are merely empaths.

Angela’s favorite color is Nio’s happiness, a beautiful orange reminiscent of the sun’s rays cast upon clouds drifting in the sky at dawn.

Actor:

As a person with a deep understanding of various emotional states, Angela’s acting is frighteningly convincing when she puts her mind to it. Everything from her body language, vocal tone, breathing, and demeanor completely change to fit the role she decides to play. Fortunately, the young woman wears her heart on her sleeve and primarily uses this talent to do silly impressions.

Mechanic:

If she can take something apart, she can put it back together. Usually. At the very least, simple appliances and maintaining T.O.D. are simple matters so long as she has the necessary materials on hand. Even when she doesn’t, she’s adept at making do with what she has.

Sewing:

If you wanted something better than simple rags on Mahler-β, you either made everything yourself or had a kind seamstress who was willing to share or sell their clothes. Angela is particularly well-dressed amongst her peers, and each item of clothing has been painstakingly crafted by hand using the materials Thaniel brought her or the items she managed to exchange for by the more generous soldiers stationed at the military base. She may have also swiped a few spare accessories and clothes laying around in abandoned mechs, but she reasons that she might as well take them since no one else will ever use them. It’s not like she was running around stripping corpses naked.

Cooking:

For some reason, the kids at the orphanage collectively begged Lillian to take Angela off of the cooking rotation schedule after they coincidentally fell ill on the first day it was her turn. Tsk tsk. They’re acting like she poisoned them!

Equipment

T.O.D.:

Otherwise known as Tod, the name doesn’t mean anything specific and was simply taken from the inscription on the inner side of one of the panels Angela used to first construct the mech. He was modeled after an animal Angela once read about in a stray book she chanced upon. According to the book, the polar bear was an apex predator living in one of the harshest environments on Earth a thousand years prior to the time of Angela’s birth. She intended on following the design of the ancient beast more accurately, but she ended up giving Tod a cute face so the mech wouldn’t scare the children in the village.

Though a modest construct compared to the titans built by the mechanics living in the central planet of the Empire, Tod’s frame is still capable of keeping its passenger safe from the force of explosives and lift heavy wrecks with ease. Equipped with shield generators, a bioscanner, and a powerful propulsion system, the mech quickly became the heart of the village’s logistics and rescue operations.

While dormant, Tod is stored within the headband-like device worn on her head. Only her biodata is capable of summoning Tod, but her thoughts alone are capable of successfully materializing her mech before her. This device manifests as a visor while active and allows her to access Tod’s viewpoint and transmit commands to him mentally as a means of moving him around without manually handling the mech from the inside if she so chooses.

Electrothermal Accelerator:

Heavy enough to be used as a striking weapon, the firearm that Tod can occasionally be seen carrying around cannot be picked up by a human unless they possess supernatural strength. In the current world, its output has been pitifully reduced to fire at the strength of an airsoft gun.

The "Something" Band:

A device that appears similar to a digital watch that Angela filched off of a corpse. After being fixed up, it is capable of a variety of functions including contacting others (not that she had anyone to call), connecting to available networks, scanning the area for electrical or thermal activity, logging data, and so on. When activated, it brings up a hologram screen in front of the user.

Toolbox:

A case of all the tools required for maintenance on Tod. The system was kind enough to place it into its storage for her at the time of Angela’s death.

Megaphone:

Usage is reserved for important announcements, of course. The amplification can actually be turned up high enough to cause harm to hearing, but the purpose behind this function is unknown.

extra

Theme

Visor

Angela

 

[locked n loaded]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

M. G. Summers | Morgan

age

Thirty-six

gender

Male (He/Him)

height

175 cm | 5’9”

weight

66 kg | 146 lbs

origin

A world that ran decimals of a degree off a parallel path to Earth, perfectly similar if only not for the touch of war, its mirrored peace collapsing under the influence of conflicts fought on another country’s land. For the first time since the Second World War, atomic bombs fall. Fire and light drift down from the sky, along with descending ash that serves as the remnant witness of a senseless tragedy.

In the aftermath, the world struggles to rebuild. Refugees flood into the unaffected countries, and humanity learns to build higher, live with less, and weather the consequences of its own self-made calamity. However, there are hundreds of millions who lack the ability to weather it, veterans and civilians betrayed by their own bodies as radiation, the slow killer, sets in. And medicine, lagging far behind the tools of violence, can’t do a thing.

in-depth

personality

He was born knowing that life was fleeting, destined to sputter out like a flash in the pan. Yet now, with the juxtaposition of a second opportunity, where Morgan once struggled like a blazing flame, burning both ends just for a chance at casting his shadow, and then settled into a comfortable providence, hoping only to offer his warmth to a world he helped ruin, he now finds himself torn between two possibilities. To smile and laugh, as if living to see the next sunset is enough, or to obsess and pursue, knowing that the twin possibilities of redemption and destruction lie waiting?

Neither. For now, Morgan revels in the hope that remains—collectedly cheerful, outgoing, and open—and wards off the terrifying thought of a second failure, a final death, with tenacious attempts to find light in the darkness, fear veiled behind the confident curve of his lips. What he’s done hangs over him like a shadow, but he holds it close to his heart nevertheless. A personal memory, a reminder to agonizingly consider the possibilities ahead, and a ghost to linger in the quiet possibilities of the night.

The thought of a reoccurrence leaves him a bit of an obsessive planner, one who gathers information and muses over it with sharp eyes and quick-moving thoughts, though, at heart, he remains decisive when pressed, carrying his decisions through with a tortured certainty. For all his questioning and all his doubt, Morgan would never let his weaknesses show in the face of trials and tribulations. After all, what use is questioning before securing victory?

history

A child of steel cities and concrete jungles, Morgan was born to immigrants, growing up in a tenement crowded into the downtown. His life flashes by in snapshots of trash-filled streets and nearby apartments, childhood innocence condensed into the soft line of a smile as he flitted between a kaleidoscope of environments, hanging with friends and laughing when he becomes a child of comparisons. But as he ages, he watches as uncles and aunts, unrelated by blood but connected by their hearts, vanish too young, too soon under the influence of their exposure. (He still remembers the first sight of the ambulance on their doorstep; red and blue painting the colors of silent sorrow in the bitter light of dawn as he questions, too young to recognize the picture of tragedy.)

By the time he graduates, Morgan has already accepted their demise as a simple fact of their world, cruel but unchangeable. Still, remembering the pain on their faces, skin pale as they hover in the doorway, clutch ineffective pills in their palm, or begin to vanish from their children’s lives in a death before death—

Yes, he has accepted tragedy as a slow, painful killer, but when he goes into pharmacy and stumbles across that first glimpse of possibility, what can he do but take it? It could’ve been a miracle; a drug that could relieve pain through a different binding mechanism, allowing it to avoid triggering the endorphins associated with addiction. Nirodha—a little slice of nothing, a little slice of heaven. Because to buy back those years in the absence of pain was a beautiful, priceless opportunity.

And yet, he squanders it. He looks his ailing mother in the eye and passes on the pill before it’s finished its clinical trial, hoping only to ease those last few months. When he looks at the others who raised him, he can’t help but make the decision again and again to affectionate kisses on the cheek and ruffles of his hair until one day, someone makes the same choice as him and passes it on to someone they shouldn’t.

The drug makes its way through the underworld in an all-consuming proliferation, and Morgan knows when he sees it. Even if there hadn’t been side effects, even if the drug wouldn’t eventually destroy the very pathways that it sought to suppress, the absence of pain was enough of an addiction, even in chemistry’s absence. In the aftermath, he’s left glad his parents have passed because his invention makes the streets hell on Earth, a savior hopeful turned towards destruction.

Maybe his actions were moral, maybe they weren’t, but looking at what he’s caused, Morgan knows he’s been damned by responsibility. He escapes condemnation because the police can’t find the leak and the people know the inventor only as M. G. Summers, but guilt follows hot on his heels on the same.

In the years that follow, he vanishes, moving away and hiding his identity in hopes of trying to make light of the dark, if not by righting his wrongs, then at least by improving what he could. He works at a chemistry firm and spends his nights as a tutor, revitalizing his students with the promise of ice cream and the same smile of the past, as if accountability doesn’t lurk in his shadow.

When he finds a friend in a man who’s been destroyed by his work, and the realization comes, Morgan accepts the result that follows, thanking that his friend is merciful enough to withhold the fact from the news. When, months later, he finds himself caught in the line of a bullet, protecting one of his students from someone ruined by his invention, he accepts it as the coming of karma. But damn, if he didn’t wish he had the chance to fix what broke—to prove that the world wouldn’t have been better if he’d just never existed.

relationship

TBA

abilities

combat

Simple Marksmanship: Morgan’s skill is limited to a pistol, often used at close range, but his aim is true, and his hands are steady. Unfortunately, he’s experienced enough to know not to wince at the thought of killing, and he’s seen enough not to flinch in the bloody aftermath.

abilities

Pharmaceuticals & Chemistry: His area of study, profession, and possibly greatest regret. It’d be much too simple to part from them through forgetfulness after death. Morgan is proficient at handling dangerous materials and mixing solutions like any other chemist, though his specialty truly lies in medicine. Specifically, the creation of it, though he’s also had to learn how to ensure patient safety using dosage and emergency action in order to graduate.

Research: The skill of finding and retaining academic information using a variety of upright means, something every student has likely learned through blood, sweat, and tears. Of course, Morgan has branched out over the course of his life. As the creator of Nirodha, he couldn’t help but keep an ear to the ground in order to monitor its progress, having learned to seek out knowledge on the streets through rumors, exchanging word of mouth with the families on the street, and bargaining with the less-than-official sources that lurk in every big town or city to accomplish this.

Speaking: Perhaps Morgan should have gone into teaching and avoided all this tragedy. As it is, his experience as a tutor has shown him his extreme patience and taught him how to efficiently pass on information while keeping an audience’s attention, both in cases of extreme and minimal preparation. And, as everyone knows, inattentive children always have the potential to be the most challenging clients you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting.

Deception: Morgan’s good at creating an innocent persona, diverting attention, and keeping a straight face. While he prefers to tell the complete truth to people he’s close to, even if it lands him in hot water, there’s a reason he’s practiced, which can be summarized in nine letters—M. G. Summers.

equipment

Nirodha: A miracle drug further enhanced by the system. For the duration of an hour, taking it allows the user to ignore all forms of pain, with the system adding a great healing effect in addition to strengthening the body and senses. In exchange, its downsides have also been boosted, leaving the user with a greatly delayed reaction time, lowered senses, and weakened movements for another hour. Taking it again will delay the side effects, but it will also worsen their inevitable arrival.

Handgun: A simple, modest weapon that was illegally acquired to protect its user during the turmoil caused by his own invention. It’s been fortunate enough to have avoided use so far and holds fifteen rounds.

Notebooks: A collection of colorful spiral notebooks meant for taking notes during class and turning in homework that is now destined to go ungraded. The handwriting inside varies from book to book, belonging to a variety of pupils from a variety of ages. Most of them focus on STEM subjects, with the most complex ones belonging to chemistry, though some contain thank-you notes from older pupils and cutesy drawings from younger ones.

 

[Nessi]

fluticasone fluticasone

basics

name

Sasha Kozlov

age

39

gender

Female

height

6'5 || 195 cm

weight

198 lbs || 89 kg

origin

Sasha hails from an earth ran by powerful corporations who influence everything, even the "governments" of countries. Technology has advanced far past the expectations of many, however only those who have money can benefit from this revolution. Those who are born at the top stay at the top, and those born at the bottom will never claw their way out, no matter how hard they try.

in-depth

personality

As an heir to the Kozlov business, Sasha was brought up to be able to put on a stone cold mask. Never to show weakness especially in the presence of competition. Everything Sasha does follows some sort of logic, and she's always looking for an outcome that will benefit her company, or in this case, her fellow party members. However when the mask slips, and Sasha is left in the presence of those she considers trust worthy, she's a bit more expressive. She's still quiet, and mostly only speaks when spoken to, but she's more laid back, and willing to banter a bit if the mood permits it.

history

Sasha was the eldest of 3 sisters, and was the only one born with a defect. When she came out of the womb, poor little sasha was born with a deformed left arm. Her mother didn't see it as something she should be ashamed of, but her father didn't agree at all. To him, the deformity was a sign of weakness, something that made his daughter broken.

So when Sasha turned 4, she was gifted with a new arm, a metallic prosthetic.

Sasha's mother was furious, as the decision to replace their daughters arm was never properly discussed. They argued for days on end, until one day, Sasha's mother disappeared, leaving her, and her 2 other sisters alone with their father.

With her mother out of the picture, nothing was stopping Sasha's father from molding her into the perfect successor for the family business. He taught her cruelty, how to crush competitors, expand the Kozlov empire far past the snowy confines of Russia. Feeling that she still wasn't strong enough, Sasha's father would have her undergo a multitude of other surgeries, to the point in which she seemed to be more metal than man.

Sasha never complained, or resisted her fathers wishes. She became the model daughter, the perfect heir in her fathers eyes. She was so important, that he had all but forgotten the 2 other daughters he had.

Eventually, Sasha would go from a girl, to young woman ready to inherit the Kozlov business, armed with all the knowledge her father had given her. Lawyers were brought in, papers were signed, and just like that, in a conference room tucked away from prying eyes, Sasha officially became the sole owner of the Kozlov corporation. Her first act, was killing her father with a bullet right in between the eyes.

In truth, Sasha always hated her father from the moment she woke up with a metal arm attached to her. She knew her mother was forced to leave, but could only hope that she was still alive. There were so many times in which Sasha wanted to speak out against her father, but she was scared what would happen if she did. She was scared what her father would do to her sisters if she wasn't the perfect heir, the torture he'd put them through. There was only one solution that Sasha could think of, she had to kill him, but only after she inherited the business.

As blood ran down her fathers forehead, Sasha kicked her feet up upon the table, and for the first time in a long while, cracked a smile upon her face.

From this moment onwards, Sasha's life went on as best as it could. With the entirety of the corporations funds at her disposal, she could do whatever she wished, and that's exactly what she did, starting with expanding the business, and manufacturing prosthetic limbs for people just like herself. It wouldn't just be limbs that Kozlov would start making, but it would also delve into medicine after purchasing a smaller pharmaceutical company owned by a man named Pyotr Lebedev.

With the expansions to the company, Kozlov was pulling in more money than it ever did. Using some of the skills she learned from her father, Sasha kept competition at bay, and outright stomped out anyone who would try to oppose the business.

At 27, an unsuspecting relationship blossomed between Sasha, and Pyotr. While she had purchased the company, Pyotr stayed to help manage the pharmaceutical side of things. They were always close though, always getting along and spending time outside of business together. Eventually, they'd begin to start seeing each other in a romantic light, and when Sasha turned 30, she'd officially get married to Pyotr.

At this point in her life, Sasha was satisfied with her life, the business was more than secure now, and would prosper long after she was gone. As for who would take over the business after her, she had time to try and think about a successor, or that's what she thought at least.

On a day of no particular importance, Sasha collapsed, and was shortly after rushed to a private hospital. It was there, that a mass over Sasha's heart was discovered. It was something akin to cancer, but more prolific, more aggressive than the kinds society had already found ways to treat. There was medication to help reduce the effects, but ultimately no cure. Sasha was told she had a couple months to live at best.

Facing her own mortality caused Sasha's mindset to change drastically. Soon after receiving the diagnosis, she quickly set put measures in order for the day of her death. Pyotr would take over the corporation upon Sasha's death, and money would be given to both of her sisters, in case things went sour with the corporation and they needed to live on their own.

Even though Sasha knew everything would be okay after her death, she was still dissatisfied, she didn't want to accept that she only had a month to live. "Even if I can only stay for another month, I refuse to succumb to this so quickly." Sasha told herself.

One month would pass, and Sasha would still be around. The next month, it was the same. Doctors couldn't exactly explain why, but the cancerous lump on Sasha's heart was moving much slower than expected, resulting in her sticking around for another 4 years, spending as much time as she could with her family.

Despite lasting as long as she did, Sasha's health continue to decline. Things that she could do in the past, like moving around by herself, lifting heavy objects, such things were no longer possible. But Pyotr was always there to help, to make everything easier for Sasha, he never left her side no matter what.

One dreary morning, Sasha woke up in her bed, and could feel that something was different, thought she couldn't place her finger on what exactly it was. "Pyotr, I want to get in my favorite clothes...feel healthy again." She requested. Her husband obliged, and helped her put on her favorite outfit, complete with her pistol and purse, guiding her to a mirror so she could see herself. It was no secret that she had lost some weight, but it almost felt like she was drowning in clothes that fit her a few years ago. But even then, she was satisfied with wearing her best clothes. She'd set herself back down on her bed, and take a long, deep breath as Pyotr left her room. When he returned, Sasha had passed, a smile on her face.

relationship

TBA

abilities

combat

Anti-projectile field: A shield that Sasha creates from her prosthetic arm that intercepts projectiles, and launches them in whichever direct her arm is pointing.

Optical and Neural implants: An implant in her brain that allows Sasha to scan areas, tap into things like cameras, or unlock door.

Modified body: Through multiple procedures and questionable modifications forced upon her by her father, Sasha's body is much more durable than the average person, and won't be stopped by something as minor a pain.

abilities

Cooking

Negotiation

Incredible problem solver

surprisingly good singer

equipment

Sasha's pistol: A silver pistol that utilizes Sasha's optical implants in order to automatically adjust bullets mid flight in order for them to hit their target. Can swap between standard mode, and Incendiary mode, in which explosive rounds are fired.

Sasha's Prosthetic Arm: Sasha's silver arm, good for blocking a bullet or two, or breaking a jaw when need be.

notes

Theme