Fandom Persona: Non Grata Sinner Registration (Closed)

[simj26]

[h]Arcana[/h]

Name:
Not their actual name, more like something to refer to them by. Think something akin to Spirited Away

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:
Include height, build, and general appearance information that would be apparent at first glance

Personality Traits:
Bear in mind that Sinners, while amnesiac, will retain a majority of their personalities, or tend towards behavioural patterns that they had in life.

Backstory:
Optional. Players are advised to still keep an idea of what and who their characters were before they were Sinners in mind if they were to forgo this section. I will be biased towards players I know more than players I don't, is all I’m saying. 

Weapon Preference:
This is whatever the sinner chooses to wield in liquidation requests or when confronting foes and fiends alike. As this is titled ‘preference’, it can be as specific as ‘katana’ or ‘axes’, or as vague as ‘blunt weapons’ or ‘fist weapons’. 

[sh]Persona[/sh]
Name:

Appearance:
Written and/or visual representation would suffice. 

Element:

Abilities:
Optional. Abilities aren't table turners, but can assist heavily in claiming victory. These can range between healing, smokescreens, to unique Persona physiology. Personae can have a maximum of two thematic abilities.

You may alter the code any way you see fit.

Please be reminded to read the Lore and the Others page before writing your character.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

The Wheel of Fortune

​

Name: Neat
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Appearance: A disheveled looking young lady with a pair of eyes that gleam cynically at the world. Stands at 5'6" with a slightly fatty build, often slouching to 5'5".

Personality Traits:
The kind of person who's suspicious of everything and everyone, Neat isn't an easy woman to get along with. She goes out of her way to keep people at arm's length, spurring her fellow Sinners on with insults and mockery. When she's not fending off the advances of her workmates, however, she's a fairly reserved woman. Despite her seemingly unending arsenal of spite, she'll only ever direct it at someone when on the defensive; She much prefers to spend her free time in isolation, as opposed to in social combat, and is content silently playing single player video games in her room or reading in a corner if you leave her to her own devices.

Backstory:
For the first 20 years of her life, the college dropout now known as Neat didn't do much to stray from the norm. She was born to an average family, had an average school life, and would end up attending an average university. For two years she did as she was supposed to, attending class and partying in her free time, she lived the prototypical college lifestyle. But, under the hood of it all, a lingering cynicism begun to bubble away inside her.

She surrounded herself with as many friends as she could, dated whenever she was able, and lived the lifestyle that she'd always been told was ideal. But with each new face, with each new lover, best friend, or A grade, she grew more and more distant from it all. Everyone had an angle, they all wanted something out of everyone they knew, and anything they did; Social clout, sex, the key to someone's success, or even just a free lunch, nobody was genuine in their pursuits of love or friendship. Her studies were even worse. Study hard to get a job, get a job to get money, get money to start a family, start a family so that people respect you; What was even the point? Where did that long stretch of goals come to its end? Was there a point in only over doing things for the sake of something else?

In fact, wasn't that kind of disgusting to begin with?

She when was young, she remembered being told about self improvement. At the time, she'd thought it the ends, the thing that people strove toward in order to become a better person than they were when they woke up. But, now she realized, that it was quite the opposite. It was just a flowery word that people used to disguise their constant lust for more. More money, more power, more respect; All because society told them that they needed those things. So, in her second year of college, she decided to reject it all.

At twenty years of age, she locked herself away in her apartment, and resolved to live out the rest of her life within its walls. She'd sustain herself by playing off of the rampant plague of desire that she saw hovering over humanity, scamming the foolhardy and stupid out of their hard earned money through whatever means she saw fit. Phishing schemes, identity theft, playing on someone's heartstrings, if she could do it from the comfort of her home, and it earned her a tidy some of cash, she'd carry it out without remorse. She was, in her eyes, participating in something no different that what anyone else was doing. She was just being more honest about it.

She'd only leave the walls of her home when her fridge ran empty, or the trash bags were piled too high. It was on one of these trips that her life came to its end. She was on a routine grocery run, and in the midst of stacking a trolley high with everything with a shelf life longer than three months, someone started to rant at her. Whatever they were speaking about, she didn't care. Man or woman, adult or child, everyone was the same; They all only ever said the same things, over and over again, to the point where she'd just drown them out. But she couldn't just keep ignoring the world, it wouldn't let her, especially with how thoroughly she'd set out to abuse it.

The last thing the scam artist now known as Neat ever heard, was not the rhythmic droning of her desk fan, and the last thing she saw was not the dimly lit roof of her apartment. Instead, it was the unexpected 'bang', of gunfire, and the price tag of her favorite brand of cup-noodles. In another life, where she'd listened to her murderer, and learned of their identity as one of her many, many victims, she might have lived past that day, she might have managed to reform, and she might have managed to live a long and fulfilling life.

But instead, at the young age of twenty-five, she was killed, her heart still clouded with resent, an undiscovered shame, and one lingering question, forever left unsaid.

"Why?"

Weapon Preference:
Handguns

Persona​

Name: Faustus
Element: Dark
Abilities:

• Mephistopheles - Faustus is able to empower itself with its user's blood. Something of a 'Deal with the Devil', by draining Neat's life energy. Faustus can raise either its physical or magical abilities for the duration of a battle. To put it in game terms, it can lower Neat's maximum HP for the rest of the dungeon, in exchange for a power boost for a single battle.

 

[Refaulted]

The Empress Arcana
​

Name:
Vixen

Age:
30

Gender:
Female

Appearance:
A woman with a rather slender build, she stands at approximately 5 feet 10 inches, with medium-short black hair. She has a large forehead and angular features, and fuller lips. Her fingers are long and slim, like the hands of a piano player. Her casual attire usually consists of black cloth and leather. She also has two earrings in her right ear, but none in her left.

Personality:
A motherly and caring woman, Vixen has a fondness for those younger than her, acting protective of them if they seem like they need help. She finds enjoyment in absorbing information about others, using the knowledge she gathers to help them in the future if she can. While a caring individual, Vixen has a definite venomous side to her that tends to come out rather frequently. She is never exactly mad, but rather is easily bothered by those things she deems silly or stupid. Her attitude tends to come out more towards adults than children, though she can still be harsh to them if she believes they are in the wrong, especially since it can be a lesson to them. Vixen has a tendency to go between being extremely blunt to positively vague, this depending heavily on her mood, with her normally being more blunt the more angry she is.

Backstory:
Vixen never knew her birth parents. She was given up for adoption when she was still just a baby, and lived in the foster-care system for years, going between households that never seemed to work out for her. This mainly came from her heavy distrust of others abandoning her. If she didn't get close, then she wouldn't feel sad about losing them for any reason. This resulted in her bouncing between homes of varying families, from a couple unable to have children looking for a way to expand their family to a household consisting of six other children all starving for attention from the obviously stressed and overworked parents. To get away from all these people wanting to create some sort of fake family with her, Vixen would go out with her friends from school into the city to escape, picking up unhealthy drug habits along the way. By the time she was fifteen, she was gone for days at a time.

She became friends with a man one of her female friends knew. The man was older and seemed to be rich, so Vixen would try and charm him into getting her stuff. She never questioned his money, and he would even buy her things she didn't ask for. Vixen enjoyed this new lifestyle she was living, and made it official she wouldn't return to her current home, living with the man.

This proved to be a mistake. The man was a notorious pimp, and by seventeen Vixen was forced into working for him to make up for all the money he had spent on her. Forced to sell her body, Vixen found she had a talent for attracting men and women alike, and quickly settled in with the world of prostitution. She became one of the pimp's greatest cash cows, and thus he treated her greater than his other girls. This brewed jealousy up among them, but Vixen didn't care, as long as she was making money and had a roof over her head and a full stomach.

Over time, however, Vixen started to become bored with this life. She always had the same clients, and while the money was consistent, she wanted something new, and arranged to run her own ring for the pimp in another section of the city. She took a couple girls with her and found massive success, taking care of the girls and making sure they were kept safe. During this time, she met a man who she became enamored with, but she didn't want to drag him into her life so he couldn't become a target by another ring. They kept their relationship mainly business-like, but Vixen would sometimes indulge herself in him. Their relationship lasted two years before they decided to stop their relationship.

It was at this time Vixen found out she was pregnant with the man's child. Panicked, she tried to keep it a secret from everyone, only allowing her most trusted girls contact her in person if they needed to. Surprisingly, no one outside of her trusted few found out about the child, and the child was born a healthy young girl. Vixen arranged for a caretaker for the child when she had to work, but began to turn more of her attention to taking care of her daughter. She became more fearful for her freedom, as she knew she would serve a hefty prison sentence for everything she had done.

Vixen managed to hide her child for three years before she was confronted by her pimp. The pimp, feeling like Vixen was neglecting her duties to him for the child, demanded that the child be given up to foster care so Vixen could continue her work. Vixen refused, not seeing why the child was a problem if she kept the prostitution ring secret. The pimp gave her three days to get rid of the child, much to Vixen's dismay. While Vixen was making her decision, she overheard some of her girls talking about seeing the pimp around Vixen's child's caretaker's house. Vixen hastily went to the pimp's home, where the pimp had kidnapped the child and was trying to force Vixen to give up the child. In a fit of rage, Vixen attacked the pimp. The two of them fought, with the pimp having the upper-hand until Vixen grabbed one of his canes and bashed his skull in.

Beaten, bloody, and broken, Vixen picked up her daughter and knew she only had so much time left in the world. Carrying her through the rainy night, Vixen only wished that things had turned out differently. If only she had settled down with one of those foster families. Or if only she had never trusted the pimp. Or if she had never met the man she loved. The only thing that came out of her life that was good was her daughter, and she was about to never see her again. As she trudged along the streets, she prayed to any god to let her press a nice big "Reset" button on her life. As she reached the steps of the orphanage, her daughter was crying out for her, and it was the only thing Vixen could hear anymore. Everything was fuzzy around her except for the child's crying face. As she sat down on the step, she held the child close to her and hummed the same lullaby she had sang to the child when she was an infant. The last things Vixen could hear as she drifted away was the door to the orphanage opening behind her, the pattering of the rain on the concrete around her, and her daughter weeping into her chest. Then, it all faded...

Weapon Preference:
Blunt Weapons, ie. bats, pipes, crowbars, etc.

Persona

Spoiler: Full Body Version

Name:
Messalina

Element:
Ice

Abilities:
- Invigorating Ice: Vixen, with Messalina's power, can create casts made of ice on those who are injured. This ice has the power to heal most injuries, from simple scratches to broken bones, and will numb most pain associated with the wound, acting as a good painkiller. However, the time it takes for the wounds to heal increases the more serious the wound is. It can heal scratches, scrapes, or bruises in as little as thirty seconds. However, open wounds and broken bones take considerably longer, upwards of multiple days. VIxen can only create up to three ice casts at any point, and the ice will begin to melt if those under it's affects stray too far away.
- Snow Globe: A normally defensive ability, Vixen can create a swirling storm of snow and ice around herself that has a radius of four meters. This ability will damage anything within its area, be they friend or foe, unless they are standing exactly up against Vixen, where there is a small pocket that no snow or ice reaches. This ability constantly drains Vixen's stamina, so she cannot keep it up indefinitely, at the risk of passing out.

 

[Midrick]

The Strength Arcana
​

Name:
Grim

Age:
24

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
He stands at 6'3 with a large frame, his features are angular, but betray a rough and sinister look at different points of view. His body is toned and muscular, but not bulky and unwieldy. His face is marred by a scar starting at his inner right eyebrow and hooking down and right, ending at his right cheekbone. Other various scars run on his hands and arms. His usual clothing choices are combat boots, dark brown cargos and a gray hooded shirt. He has tattoos depicting death, violence, and previous service in the armed forces.

Personality:
Grim lives up to his namesake, in being extremely pessimistic and dark, sometimes to the point where its downright unsettling. Grim gets a certain kind of pleasure when he makes someone squirm when he says or does something. When he's not doing that he's usually impassive and uncaring being brutal in how he calls things, often making offhand comments about a prominent physical feature or the like to see if he can get a rise out of someone. Grim is extremely quick to anger, and can become extremely threatening and violent when agitated, even resulting in him becoming enraged. He usually is cold and harbours a sort of superiority complex, believing that he needs no one but himself. In private though his thoughts change into self doubt and being lost. This combined with the depressive state that accompanies his introspection create a volatile temperament when approached after one of his periods of deep thought.

Backstory:
Grim lived and grew up in a middle class home with good parents, and was happy as a child. As he grew he began to see things in life that changed him, he wasn't a popular kid, he didn't participate in school athletics, preferring to learn mma and fight. He grew up an outsider looking in, it twisted him into an uncaring individual who had a cynical outlook on life, for the most part he hated most of the people in his school except the handful of friends he had. He was becoming a misanthrope, preferring to rely on himself than seek validation from others. He believed college was for people who didn't know they were smart and scoffed at the idea of going, instead enlisting in the marines out of high school.

It was there he found where he belonged. He was good at being a soldier, extremely good. Most of the other men thought like he did, had the same sense of dark humor and grit. His time learning to handle weapons from a young age gave him an advantage, and a few years after he found himself in line to join the special forces. After his training he went on active duty and deployed. While he was deployed he killed and he killed a lot. He was good at it, and for him there was a certain satisfaction in it, him and his buddies started making jokes about them being psychotic and sociopaths, but Grim knew in the back of his mind there was a kernel of truth in those statements.

Grim went off rotation for a required vacation, he even managed to hook up with a girl who became his girlfriend. He started becoming happier and more positive, but as he often told himself, good things are always temporary. One day after coming home he found his apartment was broken into to. He also found his girlfriend was raped and killed. After that he lost it. If he still had his memories that would be the point where he would say his original self went in and Grim came out. He grabbed his rifle as well as his rig and went out hunting. He happened to recognize one of the men who were apart of a gang that committed the act. He got out and opened fire. There were 13 of them overall, all armed. Grim didn't care, he was shot several times but barely noticed, he only wanted to kill them all. Everytime one went down he felt a surge of something, he couldn't tell if it was retribution or fulfillment but it felt good. After he had killed the last man, he finally collapsed.

He had impressed himself that he didn't pass out sooner due to blood loss. He managed to drag himself back to his car and sit himself upright. Before he finally bled out he was accosting whatever higher power there was, why was he the one who had to be unhappy, why couldn't he just live in blissful ignorance. It wasn't fair. He knew when he had gone after the men that he was going to die, it wasn't that he wanted to die per say, but rather he was tired of the same things happening over and over again. Before he died he decided to say his catch phrase of 'fuck it', and added fuck you to whoever's listening. Unbeknownst to him, someone was indeed listening...

Weapon preferences:
Axe's (tomahawks and the like)

Persona
​

Name:
El Tio

Element:
Fire

Abilities:

• Blood tithe - El tio demands sacrifice, if an opponent sacrifices parts of their life force, El tio will be appeased and wont harm them for three minutes before demanding another sacrifice, some of the sacrificed health will heal Grim
• Hellfire - By refusing the blood tithe, El tio will be angered, and Grim will be able to use fire attacks to pummel his enemies. His offensive capabilities receive a massive boost, but his defense is lowered as well as healing being blocked.

 

[BriiAngelic]

The Heirophant

Spoiler: Gallery

Name:
Aster

Age:
37

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
5'10 || Lean, non muscular || Tattooed Half Sleeve down the Right Arm || Scars down the left side starting at mid torso reaching down to left knee

Personality Traits:

Aster in all things values victory. He doesn’t care to be nice, or liked, or appreciated all he wants is complete domination. He’s not holding himself to any moral stance either, he wants to win because he’s a prideful son of a bitch who judges how well things are going by results. While some people judge their worth by friends or talents or good deeds he’s the type that measures in bodies left behind and gang members still breathing when all is said and done. He may not remember your name at the end of the day but that time your shot saved their asses or that you’re the fastest runner they got? You know he’s got it memorized. After all everyone who has a use deserves the time of day and a good kick in the ass to keep on their toes.

While you’d expect that this type of goal would mean that he doesn’t deal well with the ‘talentless’ or idiots in reality he does really well with idiots in most cases. Part of this is because he expects nothing of them, part of it is because every idiot he’s met before has shown some promise once Aster whipped them into shape. In general if you can deal with Aster’s general dick demeanor then everything’s set since while he’s not nice about it he does care about his people.

Understand though while Aster is the man with the plan, he’s not who you wanna go to when shit goes wrong as his answer to a plan failing is you aren’t trying hard enough and it’s time he comes in to brute force it to work. He may do his best to account for far off factors but a fair deal of his plans are shaky and while his definition of win means he’s aiming for everyone to leave alive that doesn’t guarantee that his plan has you leaving in one piece.

Backstory:
Supa wip

Weapon Preference:
Guns

Persona

Spoiler: Gallery

Name:
Moran

Element:
Psychokinesis

Available Skills:
Moran’s Gambit:
Moran channels his users strength and skill through the other party members leaving his user feint in order to power up the party.

Sniper’s Excellence:
Aster channels it all into one attack with Moran leaving himself in a vulnerable position afterwards making attacking and defending harder due to the limited mobility.

 

[simj26]

The Star

Name:
Grey

Age:
21

Gender:
Female

Appearance:
A petite, blonde young woman with sapphire blue eyes. She sports a beauty mark just under the corner of her right eye. She stands at about 5’5”, and adorns herself fairly garishly, featuring a prominent necklace on her neck and golden earrings, but her style of dressing is somewhat more simple- a tank top, a miniskirt, and a cardigan.

Personality Traits:
A particularly chipper and easy-going person, is how most would describe Grey. She carries herself with glowing positivity, confidence, and excessive optimism it is intensely difficult to not get annoyed at just how happy-go-lucky she seems. Her mottos, still engraved in her mind through the memory loss, are ‘Live fast, live free, die young, die free’ and ‘If there’s a wall, there’s a way around it!’. She isn't too sure about where these mottos originate from, but if they are so insistent on existing in her mind, then they must be important. Hence, she lives and dies by these words. She is fairly certain she probably died by these words prior, going by their phrasing.

Though she presents herself as no more than a common good-for-nothing, chain smoking delinquent, she is more than ready to prove her worth, seeking ways to show that she belongs to a group, in any way possible, going as far as to help out in the most inane things possible. More often than not, however, she tends to be more hindrance than help. It isn’t readily apparent to her just why she wants so much to help others or why she wants to belong somewhere, but her heart just seems to ache every time she isn't actively doing something or helping someone.

She is fairly impulsive and not too prone to thinking things through very much, and is very susceptible to fits of anger and/or depression, easily pulling a 180 in behaviour if she is so much as slighted by a tiny bit.


Backstory

Weapon Preference:
Knives

Persona

Name:
Tamamo-no-mae

Element
Wind

Abilities/Skills
Tamamo-no-mae is able to create chains to lash out and wrap themselves around a target and restrain them for a short period of time. The chains do not last very long and are very unreliable, being able to be broken easily by its targets. The chains themselves don't do a lot of damage and are fairly pathetic overall.

 

[Arcanist]

Death​

Name: Stein

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Appearance: A tall man standing at 6'1, his build rather lanky and thin. He has combed back dark hair, steely blue eyes which always seem to be watching others, almost like specimens. Sharp, bony features with a pale complexion. He has a particular fondness for a khaki green turtleneck, a black trench coat with the sleeves rolled up, black pants and black pointed shoes.

Personality Traits:

Stein on the surface appears to be a rather calm man, his thoughts often collected. He's an analytical man, spending most of his time 'studying' others and being alone in his own thoughts. He's by no means difficult to approach; he will engage in conversation with most people and is friendly enough to the people around him but tends to spend most of his time on his lonesome with a book, or muttering about things to himself. Stein, however, is blunt in his words - he won't just say something that someone wants to hear, and will often just tell someone how it is without regarding that person's feelings. He means well, but sometimes he gets the moment wrong.

Yet, there seems to be another side to Stein that slips out occasionally. Liquidation tasks and the thought of taking down foes awakens a violent and sadistic glee in the man, seemingly having no regard for whether the foe is human or non-human. His only thoughts revolve in what ways he can kill them with the most pain possible, what kind of subject they would make for experimentation. His bloodthirsty mindset can often replace the calm and analytical mindset he usually has, and this can happen anywhere between the start of a confrontation to near the end of a battle. There's no telling when Stein's sanity slips, but when it does, it's usually signalled by a crazed chuckling or laughter.

Backstory:

Stein was born into a typical nuclear family - he had both his mother and his father, and was an only child. His father was a successful businessman, hard, strict, often lecturing his son about the importance of making it in life and achieving the highest career ambition he possibly could. His mother didn't work but stayed at home and cared for Stein, taking painting up as a part-time hobby. She suffered from a number of medical conditions that weakened her physical mobility drastically over time.

From a young age, Stein always had his father on his back, ordering him to study hard, to get experience whenever he could, to grow up and to make something successful as himself. Seeing no other choice, Stein did just that. Often times at home (without the knowledge of his father), he cared for his mother, who often couldn't make it out of bed most days. After so many doctors visits and constant prescriptions of pills, pills, and more pills, Stein had resolved to become a doctor not only to help others, but to find a cure for his mother that others couldn't.

He put himself through constant trials at his university, shut himself off from his peers, all in pursuit of becoming a doctor. His mother was proud, and his father was extremely pleased his teachings got through to Stein, and it seemed for awhile that everything was going as planned for the young man. By the age of twenty four, he had finished his university education and was already in a stable job.

Tragedy struck a year on when his mother's health declined drastically. In a bid to find a cure and fast, he had began to administer his own cocktail of drugs to patients to study the effects on them, to create some sort of cure. When questions cropped up, often Stein had to pull back and administer drugs to himself to test effectiveness. No one in their right mind would take part in dangerous trials like this without compensation, without knowing that something would even come out of this. The drugs had profound effects on him - he was more aggressive, less focused, his personality could go through swings of changes, yet he pressed on. Despite Stein's obsessive workings on this 'cure', his mother died when he turned twenty-six, and he sank into a deep depression. Stein couldn't even achieve his goal. He saw himself as a failure, as someone who would never rise to success like his father. It was hereafter he went off the rails.

Stein had thrown himself into work. He still found himself working on this 'cure' despite his mother's death, reassuring himself he could continue to help someone else. Again, he spiralled into an obsession with it. He began working on illegal 'clinical trials' by picking up victims off the streets. He drugged them, he mutilated them, killed them out of mercy afterwards. All in the name of 'medical advancement'. Yet, he was only doing this to fuel his new bloodthirsty nature, to feel something other than self-loathing and guilt over his mother's death. And the more he did this...the more he took sadistic pleasure out of it. After so many years, it wasn't for a 'cure', but it was a hobby for him. The string of murders on the news, evading police capture, knowing he was the mastermind behind it all. And every so often he could indulge himself in this sick fantasy.

...until he was finally caught a few years later. Stein let his guard down, became sloppy. The police and detectives were able to apprehend him, find evidence on him. There was nowhere for him to run. He wouldn't admit to his crimes for so long, until he had been sentenced to death. Stein had sat in his cell, hours before his death was to come, sobbing and begging for retribution, for a change. He had lost sight of himself, why he even became a doctor in the first place. How did he tread down the completely wrong path?

Stein bore the weight of the many lives he had taken when he was finally hung. His death was nowhere near as painful as there's was, but the guilt was excruciating. Then it all faded. But he wondered as he died, what he was seeing before it all went black...?

Weapon Preference:
Scythes

Persona


Name: Jekyll-Hyde

Element: Lightning

Abilities:

Prescription - with the first face from the left in face designs facing forward, Stein can cure the wounds of himself or another party member in need. The catch is is that the bleeding gash on your leg, as an example, could simply stop bleeding, but still be open, or stitched up. In gameplay terms, the number of HP is randomized (i.e. 1 HP, or even 70 HP, or regain full health as a few examples).

Serum Slip - turning to the third face from the left, Stein can become affected by the 'Rage' ailment for three terms, refusing any other order bar attacking a random enemy. He gains an Attack increase, but lowers his Defense as a result.

 

[Quiet]

JUSTICE

Name:
Noir.

Age:
28.

Gender:
Female.

Appearance:
A tall woman with dark features and a gaunt face. A lean build, outfitted with professional attire. 5'11". She always wears a pair of leather gloves in public, never takes them off for any reason.

Personality Traits:
An analytical woman who uses a combination of facts and opinions to get to her ultimate goal: finding the truth. While polite in demeanor when she carries herself well enough, Noir isn't the type of person who sits around for idle chitchat. She needs purpose, reason, and goal to engage with other people. However, in a mind like hers, she has a tendency to "change" depending on the person. Not in any drastic way, no. But different people get different reactions... depending on what she needs from them, anyway. She'll change herself any way she can in a conversation to get answers.

Ultimately though, Noir is a quick-on-her-feet thinker. An improvisational savant, she's good with backup plans and bullshitting her way out of situations that would get herself killed (again.) In conversation, this manifests anywhere from subtle prods to get people to open up more easily to her to lashing, sarcastic quips when faced with the same behavior (or outright stupidity.) However, for all the good she is in dangerous situations, she has a tendency to bring them upon herself. Call it a twelve issue run of bad luck, or just her abrasiveness in the line of fire, but she can't help aggravating delicate situations most of the time.

Backstory:
There was something intoxicating about the line of policework; it was no wonder why her father had such a fascination with it-- so much so that he was almost never home, always staying late at the office to catch up on case files when allowed to or patrol when told to. When she and her mother were left alone at night, the door always locked after dinner when they knew he wasn't going to be home until late. The woman known as Noir knew this well, as she was told by her mother, that the life of a person who helps others is never rewarding to the self. Even still, when she pushed through her years of schooling without seeing more than an inkling of her father and listening to her mother's complaints, she managed to still respect him and his job. "It's not self rewarding, no," she rationalized it. "but someone, somewhere out there, is gonna thank you later."

Noir graduated high school in that May; as she worked her ass off to apply to college programs to pursue something honorable and safe-- computer science, those three months in between would be the worst of her family's life. Her brilliant father, who sacrificed time and family for others, was found brutally dismembered in a case of homicide said to be the work of a dangerous criminal who targeted police officers. "The Metropolitan Detective Killer" as he was known, MDK for short in the case files, was on the rise in the last five years for the brutal ways that officers were found after patrol in dumpsters. The identity, method, and motive were never known. But in that summer, Noir made a choice.

A life living for the self was no life at all. She applied to enter the Metropolitan Police Academy, readily accepted to follow in her late father's footsteps. The curriculum and training was tough, but her drive and determination was tougher. After just ten months, she became a top graduate and entered the force. Boring as it was, she attacked all crime she could with ferocity and obtained a moniker of "Officer Napoleon" within the year. Only three years after her entering the force, she came into a promotion when the MDK case was reopened. Rather than stand idly by, the newly appointed Police Detective Noir fought tooth and nail to be put on the case. The commission board complied with one stipulation; rather than lead the case, she would remain solely a consultant to avoid bias during the investigation.

In the mean time, Noir was put on multiple cases of homicide investigation unrelated to the MDK. One, however, in particular stood out. Not then to her, but in her history now as it would be her last. An October just a month following her 28th birthday, she was called to the scene of an active arson to collaborate with the ground patrol forces. Leaping into the fire to chase the arsonist, she cornered the suspect in an alleyway just outside of the burning building only to figure out that it was a woman of no younger than thirty-five who'd set the house of her abusive husband alight after suffering years of torment by his hand. In the heat of the moment, no one knows how, but the story struck a chord in her-- and without thinking, she let the woman run. She ran far, far away.

...If only that were the truth, though. Or rather, the whole truth. It wouldn't be the last time she'd see the young woman, as she'd be the last thing Noir saw just three days later. Coming home from the day's end, she found the entrance to her small apartment broken open with a smokey haze billowing inside. Running inside, she was immediately knocked to the ground by a blunt force-- the last image being that young woman, her lips curled into a dark smile as she gave her a last goodbye: "Say hello to your father for me."


Weapon Preference:
Automatic Rifles.

PersonaName: Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus.

Appearance:

Element:
- Nuclear.

Abilities:
- Rallying Banner Under Rome: If Noir is successful in getting all users to pay tribute verbally or using an item on her (and Nero himself, by extension), then all physical damage dealt by the party is doubled for ten minutes and magical power is restored over time by increments of 5% for five minutes.
- Spiritual Fascism: While weak himself to light magic, everybody in the team's resistance against light magic is tripled and instant kills by light magic are effectively null so long as Noir is active in the field.

 

[Lucem]

Moon
Name: Hush
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance: Hush stands at 5'10 and is fairly thin. His perpetually messy hair often blocks his eyes from view, shielding the noticeably dark lines that contrast from his slightly pale skin.

Personality Traits:
Hush is a quiet person that prefers to be alone. If he's thrust into the spotlight, or finds himself surrounded by many people, he immediately feels uncomfortable. He isn't good at dealing with people, which is evident by observing his horrible social skills. He doesn't know how to effectively communicate with others, so he prefers to stay silent for his own benefit, believing that he's guaranteed to screw something up.

Despite being a naturally quiet person that secludes himself, there's a lot more going on inside his head. Because he doesn't talk very often, his sharp tongue goes unnoticed. When pressured or annoyed enough, his cheeky or sarcastic comments manage to leak out, frustration triumphing over his anxiety.

Hush has little faith in the world, but he has even less faith in himself. People are wrong to expect anything of him, and they're better off leaving him to rot in some corner. Of course, he's not cynical or deluded enough to say that reality is nothing but darkness and cruelty, but his own experiences have led him to expect negative results when putting himself out there. He acknowledges his own faults without letting them consume him entirely, but he's far too jaded to believe he can do anything to change the way things are.

Since he's been taught that he's deserving of nothing, he doesn't expect anything. He's not sure of what he wants, so the topic of goals and desires leave him feeling unsure and confused. There's a mix of his old hope for a normal life with some amount of acceptance from others, along with a part of him that denies that.

Hush can be unreliable, anxious, and even rude at times, but there is a part of him that remains compassionate. As much as he tells himself that getting involved with things only brings trouble, there's something inside that prevents him from being cruel. He carries the burden of having a conscience, creating internal conflict when the logical pessimist in him isn't strong enough to make him completely unfeeling.

Backstory:
He was a failure in every regard. Whether socially, physically, or academically, he was severely lacking in all areas. He lived with the pressure to succeed, burdened by unrealistic expectations forced on him by others. His interactions with the people around him were limited, each one as painful as the last. It was nothing but a cesspool of negativity, judgement, and cruelty. He was made to feel like he was weak and insignificant, resulting in an inability to assert himself and act with a will of his own. His father was primarily responsible for that, raising him in such a way that he was doomed to fail. He couldn't interact with others, and nothing he did was ever enough. If he wasn't hazed, nobody would recognize him at all.

When he failed to gain acceptance into his university of choice for the third time in a row, he finally reached his breaking point. No matter what he did after that, his father would always remind him that he was a failure who couldn't accomplish a single thing. Nobody expected anything of him anymore. He had no friends to speak of, and all chances of functioning in society like an ordinary person were crushed by years of poor guidance under a man who left him a mess of anxiety and inadequacy. It was the same cruel behavior that drove away his mother, leaving him behind to deal with the aftermath. It was inevitable that he would eventually crumble, choosing to give up and accept that he would never amount to anything.

He stopped leaving the house, only escaping his dark room to get food and use the restroom. Even as a failure that couldn't earn a degree from a prestigious university, he managed to earn some money by taking online jobs. As long as he could afford his own supplies, his father didn't care what he did, having accepted that his son was bereft of any value. He was free to rot inside his secluded space, safe from jeers and a cruel reality as long as he stayed in the dark.

Aside from strangers on the net, the only person he truly interacted with was his younger sister. Despite being siblings, it was impossible to compare the two. While he had no redeeming qualities, she lived up to a standard he could never reach. Popular, smart, friendly, and good at sports. It was ridiculous how perfect she was. However, he didn't have any bitter feelings. In fact, he was always very proud of his sister, happy that she managed to avoid becoming a rotten person like the ones that lived in her home. She was the one thing he could take pride in.

His sister would often visit his room, joyfully talking about her school life, and showing interest in the little models he had built in his room. She'd praise him and act amazed at the work he was doing. He'd often laugh to himself at how genuine she was. It was as if no one ever told her that her brother was a worthless shut in with a terrible personality. Still, he didn't let his own issues bring down her spirits. He truly enjoyed spending time with her, seeing how grateful she was when he built her something, or how she tried to politely decline whenever he gave her money to hang out with her friends after school. She deserved a good life.

It wasn't until much later that he realized that his sister's seemingly perfect life was very troubled. She managed to hide it well, always brushing off his concerns and assuring him that she was fine. However, while she could put on a brave front, she couldn't hide the bruises that occasionally peeked out from underneath her clothes. They were familiar to him, having seen them in the mirror many times. Although, he hadn't received any in a long time. Locked in his room to hide from the world, he didn't receive any horrible treatment. With him gone, perhaps his father had to find someone else to target.

Things only got worse over time, and he knew the situation would never improve. His father never denied his actions, proud to admit them as if daring him to do something about it. As much as he wanted to, he still feared his father. The man had a hold on him, both physically and mentally. His father knew that, and made it clear what would happen if he even thought about trying something, but it would never come to that. He was still a failure that couldn't amount to anything. There was only one thing he could think to do.

When night fell, he entered his father's room, feeling his nails dig into his skin as he tightened his grip. Inching further inside, approaching the bed with wide eyes and a pounding in his chest, he raised the knife, believing that this would be the only way to put a stop to what was happening. There would be consequences, but it didn't matter what happened to him. He didn't have much of a life to begin with. He just wanted to take care of the only person that mattered to him. However, he would always be a failure. Even in that moment, his father reminded him of that.

The man was awake, but showed no fear or surprise. He simply dared his son to do something, knowing that he didn't have it in him. Of course, he was right. Trembling, he dropped the knife, filled with more hatred for himself than his father. Despite all the time that had gone into making the decision, motivating himself by thinking of what he'd be doing it for, he couldn't do a thing. He was still worthless.

Eventually, his sister earned a brief time away from her home during a school trip, leaving him and his father alone for the first time in many years. Since the night he entered his father's room with the intention of putting a stop to his abuse, the atmosphere became much heavier. His father's behavior worsened, as he had proven a point that he could do whatever he wanted. He became bolder, describing his sick intentions in detail without the slightest worry about retaliation. Listening to all of that made him sick, and it finally pushed him to the edge, sparking an argument after his first burst of anger. For the first time, he was willing to stand up to his father, not able to just sneak around in the shadows or hide in his room to escape from everything.

The argument quickly went from verbal to physical, his father's surprise turning into fury. Nobody was allowed to disrespect him, especially an insect that he allowed to stay in the dirt-covered corner of his home. That had been the final straw, and both of them were forced to act. Fearing not only for his life, but the life of his sister who would be all alone with their father, he finally did what he intended to a long time ago. The hands around his neck loosened their grip, shaking after a blade found its way into his father's neck. Although, it did little to relieve the pain. He suffered a painful blow to the head just as he released his hold on the knife, causing both men to fall to the floor.

For once in his life, he managed to accomplish something, but it wasn't worthy of celebration. He couldn't move his body, or even utter a single word. He could only stare at the empty room, filled with a lifeless body and the growing embers around them. In his daze, he hardly noticed the fire. He couldn't tell if it was a result of the flying sparks from the broken wires, the still burning flames from the kitchen, or the cigarette that fell from his father's mouth. Regardless of the answer, his body was still burned by the encroaching heat.

Shortly after getting tover a lifetime of fear, he returned to not being able to do anything. However, he didn't regret his decision. This was just a fate that he deserved. He felt bad about leaving his sister behind, but he believed that this outcome would be better than the life that awaited her if he had decided to remain stagnant. It was the best choice when presented with a plethora of horrible options. Even if he didn't regret what he did, he regretted everything that had led up to that point. He wished that he could've been better, a role model that could've protected what he cared about. He wished he could've lived a life without all that pain. As much as he would have liked to avoid suffering himself, he mostly regretted not being able to give his sister a life she deserved. It was far too late, but all he wanted was to start things over.

Weapon Preference: Short blades

Persona
Name: Cronus
Element: Bless
Abilities:

• Pause: As the name implies, Cronus can effectively freeze a target's time. However, the effect is diminished with each consecutive use on the same target.

• Restart: Unlike Pause, Restart does not target a specific individual, its effects extending to all those within the area it's used, including allies. By rewinding a moment in time, it is able to undo a recent action, or remove a negative effect. However, all other actions within that time frame are also undone, including any potential buffs or benefits. It drains a significant amount of energy, which prevents it from being used continuously.

 

[Exanis]

The Hanged Man

Name:
Raven

Age:
27

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
Standing at 6'0", accompanied by long, silky black hair, dull brown eyes and an overall lean build. He is almost always seen in some form of either formal or business attire, and, at times, can be found wearing glasses.

Personality Traits:
Raven, at first glance, seems to be a no-nonsense kind of person, and to a degree he is. Yet, if you were to speak to him you'd find that he's actually quite a personable individual, often times more than willing to hold long conversations about anything really. That, combined with a seemingly natural charisma and a confident intelligence ultimately paints Raven out to be a serious, but kind individual.

However, this belies a large part of his true nature, that of a calculative and cold being that is always focused on the end game, so to speak. If one were to truly know Raven, to truly understand who he is at his core, they'd be aware that everything he does is working towards an overarching goal, and those goals are working towards an even bigger goal, and so on. He is strives towards the ideal of always being at least three steps ahead, and that any means are justified as long as the ends are reached.

Backstory:
The only child of a single mother, Raven always knew that, no matter how much his mother hid it, getting by would be a struggle for the two of them. So when, to his mother's immense pride, it became clear at a young age that he was truly intelligent, Raven decided to work as hard as he could, not for himself or his own comfort, but for his mother, who did all that she could to support the two of them.

At the age of fourteen, knowing that they needed money, Raven went to the local drug dealer in hopes of getting in contact with his supplier. To his surprise, he was able to not only get in contact with the supplier, via phone call, but was given the opportunity to work for him, with the promise of great rewards if he did well, and terrible consequences otherwise. Determined, Raven took this opportunity with both hands and committed as much time as he feasibly could into this "side business" as he would call it.

All the while Raven strove to still be the best that he could while in school, getting high grades, making connections with others, and simply putting himself out there. It was due to this that, after graduating high school, Raven managed to go to college for a business degree on a scholarship.

Now eighteen years of age, and in his first year of college, Raven put the next step of his plan into play. Having earned the respect of his supplier, and knowing how college students generally act, Raven quickly made friends with some of the "party animals", and soon after being invited to one of the large parties, began selling drugs to the students. Establishing himself as the go to dealer from that point was fairly easy, a combination of social manipulation and natural charisma leading it to be a fairly simple ordeal.

It was around this time, however, that Raven began facing some troubles in the form of vandalism. Apparently, one of the dealers that used to distribute at Raven's college was none too pleased at having Raven come in and take over so to speak, and thus began dropping subtle threats. Nonplussed, Raven continued dealing, having little caring for the barking of a mad dog. Understandably, the aggressor didn't take too kindly to that and so, one day while Raven was walking back to his apartment, attacked him. For Raven the whole ordeal was a blur, but all that he knew when it was over with was that the man that attacked him was dead by his hands. Surprisingly, he didn't care, not in the slightest. In fact, the only thing he was actually worried about was how he was going to deal with the fallout. Struck with a bolt of inspiration, Raven called his supplier and received as simple "I'll deal with it."

From there, the rest of Raven's college years went without too much fanfare, with only the occasional "incident" that he had to deal with, not that he truly minded in getting his hands dirty so to speak. After graduating at the age of 21, Raven decided to put his side business to rest, and got a job an entry level desk job at a fairly large company. Within months, he found himself rising the ranks and, true to his past actions, once again found himself in the midst of an illegal business, this time a mix of corporate espionage and a shady trade ring, for what Raven himself never had the chance to find out.

Nevertheless, Raven was in a good place in his life for the next few years, having made a good deal of money to send to his mother, rising through the ranks in the company, as well as the illegal endeavors within said company.

Until, one night when he was returning home, on the eve of a two big deals that he had set up, one each business, legal and illegal, Raven found himself dragged into an alleyway by two figures. Before he could realize what was going on, let alone question his situation, he found himself stabbed repeatedly, by a man that, in his fading moments, he realized to be one of his coworkers that always seemed to be jealous of him.

As his killer crouched in front of him, a dispassionate look on his face, the last words Raven would ever hear would be, "Sorry, nothing personal, it's just business."

And so as he faded away into the darkness of the night, his finals thoughts would be-

'Not like this.'


Weapon Preference:
Fist weapons

PersonaName: Moriarty

Appearance:

Element: Nuclear

Abilities:
Patience's Virtue in Adversity: For every five minutes that Raven spends as the target of an enemy's attention, with Raven being in arms length of the enemy and committing no direct offensive actions, Moriarty empowers all of Raven's allies, excluding Raven himself, with a minor buff to all their 'stats'. This can go up to a total of thirty minutes, and any offensive action done by Raven or Moriarty, or Raven taking any damage from an enemy removes five minute's worth of time. As well, if Raven isn't the target of an enemy for more than three minutes, the timer is reset.

Of Mice and Men: For each ally in critical or near critical condition, Moriarty empowers Raven with a small boost to his 'stats', at the cost of reduced healing, and is more likely to draw the aggression of all nearby enemies. The 'stat' boost lasts three minutes, the timer resetting and increasing by three minutes each time an ally reaches the threshold. Anytime an ally goes above the threshold, Of Mice and Men's stat boosting is immediately ended and reset to base condition. The increased aggression towards Raven per injured ally, however, is permanent.

 

[Necromantic]

"I should do that? Great idea, but I really don't want to. Unless there's something in it for me, hm?"

High Priestess
Name:
You can call him Daddy
Cinderella

Age:
35

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
Cinderella is a handsome man, even if he does stand at only 5'2" tall. His hair is a bright ginger colour, and it's pretty... anime looking. He wears a collar for god knows what reason, fashion? Blue eyes. Is deaf without his hearing aids, wears contacts, and has a prosthetic right foot.

Personality Traits:
Not coming off as the warmest of people, Cinderella can be kind of hard to get along. He's generally a very moody, impatient kind of guy, making him a bit too snappy for most people's preference. That being said, his default emotion isn't "annoyed", so a majority of the time he isn't just angry for no given reason. When he's not annoyed he's still not the nicest of people, being stuck up from his upraising as a rich brat, but he's certainly not a cruel person. In fact, he's not actually a bad guy behind his eternal bitchiness- A bit of a tsundere and not inclined to do things that don't somehow benefit him, but still certainly not a bad guy and perfectly sociable.

Cinderella is a compulsive liar, though curiously enough he's generally aware of his lies and will tell people when he's lying just to fuck with them. Even when he had his memories, he wasn't entirely sure where this habit came from. He never had a reason to start making up stories, he just did at some point. It's probably just a personality quirk. The only time it really becomes a problem for anyone is when he doesn't like or doesn't want to talk to somebody, as he'll start to make things up so that they'll leave him alone, but will generally lose track of his own story if pressed too much.

He's highly analytical with a preference to look before he leaps. As impatient as he may be in social situations, he's not one to dive into a fight without some sort of plan. He's a fit guy, but he was never truly taught how to fight, so just diving directly into combat would probably be his second death. On a side note that I don't want to write a whole paragraph for, he's Gynophobic.

Backstory:
Cinderella was born to a rich family in France, with a younger brother joining him only two years later. His father was the CEO of a large company and his mother a designer in a popular clothing line. It was an easy life, where he got almost anything that he wanted when he wanted it and had a loving family, even if his parents didn't come home in time for dinner every night. They still managed to always get home in time to tuck their sons into bed most of the time and spent any time they could with the pair.

Cinderella, by all means, should have inherited his father's company when he got old enough to take over, but it was prevalent from a young age that he just didn't have the aptitude for big business. While he excelled in physical activities, he had abysmal social skills and never scored well in his math classes, two facets that were far more important in running a business than his ability to play baseball. His father never voiced his concerns nor did he suggest his first born give up his position of Heir, but Cinderella was perfectly aware of his shortcomings. A few months before he graduated Highschool, he willingly relinquished his title of heir to his younger brother, who had always actually been the better fit. A charismatic, intelligent, attractive... tall... young man. His dear little brother deserved a position like that, he'd been born gifted, Cinderella wasn't anything special. It was only right.

At the age of nineteen eighteen, he accidentally got his highschool girlfriend, whom he had actually been dating for four years, pregnant. Cinderella thought this was fine, they'd been together for years and had thought that they'd get married to each other at some point anyway. It would turn out that things weren't quite as okay as he thought they were, which he would soon learn from the woman he'd thought loved him. For about three years, she'd apparently been just using him for money and sex, while pursuing an actual relationship with her girlfriend behind his back. She didn't love him anymore or want his child, much less to spend the rest of her life with him. This revelation hit him hard. He worked out a deal with her to where he would take sole custody of their daughter and she'd never need to bother them again- which she agreed to pretty easily- and then secluded himself in his room for a bit over a month, rarely coming out as he had a bathroom attached to his room and he could have food brought up whenever he wanted it. The maids would take care of his laundry, he had nothing to worry about.

If he hadn't been allowed to hide in his room for all that time, perhaps he wouldn't have ended up becoming a sinner. Maybe he would've lived to see both of his daughters graduate highschool. When he started coming out of his room, it seemed like he was fine- the only difference was that he was a bit nervous around most women, save for his mother and a few of their maids, which wasn't too shocking after his relationship ended the way it did. The truth was that he'd changed more than they could see, that he'd simmered in his own anger and self pity long enough for something inside him to break. Hatred had changed him, but his family would never know that.

A couple months after he turned nineteen, his first child was born- a cute baby girl, with surprisingly dark hair.

Weapon Preference:
Guns


PersonaName:
Cat Sith

Appearance:

Element:
Bless

Abilities:
​

 

[Stitches and Patchwork]

The Fool​

Name:
Ruse

Age:
27​

Gender:
Female​

Appearance

A slender woman with a feminine figure whose height reaches 5 feet and 10 inches. She has quite rounded and softer features with the only exception being her nose which is slightly pointed. Her face is often decorated with cosmetics, the female often having eyeshadow and blush painting her face. Her eyes are narrow while taking on an amethyst hue. However her left eye is covered, hiding a scar she recieved as a child that went through her left eye, causing it to take in a lighter eye and rendering her blind in that eye. She has wavy lavender hair that reaches her waist along with slim fingers that often have some color decorating the nails. Her style is quite glamorous, the female often decorating herself in jewelry and elegant dresses
​

Personality Traits:
A cold and calculating woman, Ruse is cunning by nature with the ability to lie to others with a straight face as well as subtly manipulate them. Despite not having recieved a formal college education, Ruse is fairly intelligent as well with wit and observant skills that allow her to be a step ahead of others at times, especially when they are opposing her.

Ruse’s motive however is her ambition. When a challenge is placed in front of her, Ruse is willing to do anything to achieve whether it be lying, seducing, betraying, or even murdering, despite never having done the heinous action herself. Despite this, Ruse is quite determined and is never willing to admit defeat, her pride preventing her from doing so. Instead she attempts to remain strong and continues fighting for what she desires if a chance for victory remains, no matter the risk.

When around others, Ruse tends to bottle her emotions, seeming to lack empathy and consideration for others. She instead attempts to act superior to them, having a commanding and authoritative nature that refuses to be forcefully controlled again. However as said before, Ruse bottles her emotions. The female shows symptoms of a pathological liar, using lying to allow her to seem stronger then she truly is. Truthfully, Ruse is simply a girl lying to herself to cover up any weakness or vulnerability that she has. It is because of this that she struggles to allow others in, not wishing to be pitied or seen as weak. However if one manages to go through the long process of breaking through Ruse’s walls, she will become a loyal and protective ally to you.

Despite her cold demeanor, Ruse is quite polite surprisingly, behaving in a strict yet refined manner. She is quite elegant with quite a sophisticated vocabulary that she never is afraid to flaunt and seems to constantly remain courteous unless she is angered.

Backstory:
Born into a cult based around the idea of perfection, Ruse grew up with expectations constantly placed on her. She wanted to be perfect. She was supposed to be perfect. She needed to be perfect. Those ideals constantly surrounded her as Ruse underwent abuse after abuse, earning the scar across her eyes from the cult. At the age of 12, Ruse couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to die there unless she didn’t escape. So she did.

She ran away, searching for a new beginning.

This led to Ruse living on the streets for days. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The female scavenged to survive and soon found herself lying to pedestrians about requiring money, always having a different story. Her mother needs it for medicine. Her little brother was in the hospital and needed it for the medicine. The money was a donation for a worthy cause. To get money, Ruse allowed any lie to escape her lips. Finally, while faking to be an orphan who had run from an abusive foster home, a couple took Ruse in, giving her a home. However even with a warm home to live in, Ruse found herself forced to lie.

It begun with the nightmares. Ruse wasn’t able to gather much sleep while on the streets but now with more time to spare, nightmares soon begun to haunt the female. Memories of the cult would rush in and leave her sleepless for many nights. Memories continued to plague the female as Ruse attempted to stop the memories from haunting her by doing what she did best.

Lie.

Ruse begun to dismiss the dreams as simply nightmares. Her past in the cult was nonexistent. An unhealthy coping mechanism but effective one as soon Ruse begun to disconnect herself from that life out of the illusion that it never happened.

And this persisted for the rest of Ruse’s life. She was judged for her supposedly being adopted from the streets in school, so she invented a whole other story. She told her parents that she had plans for the future despite all her college applications being rejected. She told to her roommate about coming from a small town when her parents actually lived a few streets over but she has refused to communicate with them since leaving the home during an argument. She lied in poker games to gain money for rent, only to get addicted to the art of gambling.

Ruse wore many different names. Many different faces. Ruse told many more stories. Through these lies, she rose to the top of the gambling world as Ruse became quite wealthy through this business of deceit, cheating many from fortunes through a variety of tatics. However it all came to a crashing halt when a casino she happened to be playing in was set on fire by a cult. A cult who saw it as a place of sin. A cult that she had been running from all this time.

Forced to be killed by her past, Ruse’s last thoughts as she looked up at the rubble about to crush her.

“This cannot be reality.”

Weapon Preference:
Whips​

PersonaName:
Mary Carelton

Appearance:

The two figures represent Mary Carelton (female on the left) and her fake alias, Princess Van Wolway (female on right)​

Element:
Psychic​

Abilities:
Lovestruck Fool
When Ruse has been aimed at for more then three consecutive turns, the enemy aiming at her will suddenly be inflicted with the status ailment, Forget, which renders them unable to use any skill. This effect lasts up to 5 minutes, the time decreasing with every attack the enemy recieves.

A Royal Fantasy
When Ruse is at low HP, Schezerade proceeds to grant status buffs to her teammates. They are randomized and last until Ruse is knocked out or has more then half of her health returned.​