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1
Teams / First year Vacuo Team
« on: February 13, 2018, 05:12:02 PM »
Well this school exists and Ramalia would like some friends.

An absolute unit Ramalia offers immense long range fire power as well as a life time of hard won survivalist skills to safeguard her team through the treacherous sands of Vacuo.

(Not expecting this to fill up blisteringly fast but felt I should at least try to get the poor girl into a team.)

2
Approved Characters / Ramalia
« on: December 11, 2017, 05:39:37 AM »
CHARACTER

Name: Ramalia.

Age: 18.

Species and Gender: Human Female.

Symbol:  A desert eagle flying in an empty sky.

Occupation: First Year Shade Student.

Appearance: Ramalia is a true mountain of a woman, standing 6’5 tall clad in layers of hard, thick muscle from life outside the kingdoms. An olive complexion is mostly free of scars and matches her deep amber eyes all framed by short blond hair, matted and rough from years in the wild. Tribal tattoos cover her left eye and right arm, three jagged lines over the eye and a maze of lines and solid blocks fully comprehensible only to those who were born among her tribe.

Ramalia still prefers to wear the same clothing she wore when apart of her tribe, finding comfort in its familiar weight, even though it marks her as an outsider in Vacuo. Hard layers of leather worn and tough cover most of Ramalia’s body protecting it from the sun and heat. Reinforced by slabs of scrap metal found in throughout the Great Vacuo Desert to protect against the Grimm as well as augmenting her physical strikes. Although the leather is naturally a bland brown the scavenged metal often has bright coloured strips which can be covered with cloth if stealth is required. The googles Ramalia wears to protect her eyes from the sun are also red. Ramalia rarely wears ‘traditional’ clothing and never formal clothing even the school uniform.

Possessing a rhythmic, sing song tone of speech which contrasts severely with her harsh exterior and slightly hunched posture. This flawed posture only gets worse while sitting or lying down, very much a sprawler, Ramalia can take up a ridiculous amount of room and sees nothing wrong with such. This carries over to her other gestures; Ramalia laughs loud, eats louder, parties loudest and has the stamina and frankly the temper to go from an hours long drinking binge to a full blown fight.

History: Ramalia was born among one of the tribes desperately trying to survive deep within the wasteland of Vacuo’s most harsh deserts. The ‘Ashkhas Formed from a mixture of humans and faunus centuries ago this tribe managed to evolve to mostly survive in the desert alone. Still there are things that even the most resourceful hunters can’t procure on their own as such the tribe took to unsanctioned scavenging, looting wrecks too far inland, too infested with grimm or too recent for other crews. With this they traded for dust, water and food as well as the occasional piece of technology.

This was the hard and harsh world which Ramalia was born into. An amoral mess where the constant danger of grimm was only surpassed by the desert weather with it’s blistering hot days and freezing cold nights. Raised collectively by the tribe Ramalia and her generation had their place designated by their performance in several ritualistic trials with as much vague symbolism as actual test at the end of ever year past their fifth birthday. Ramalia performed extremely well in these trials as she grew faster and stronger than the others, she took in the lessons faster and could last longer in the wilds.

The religious leader of her tribe took an interest early on and began drilling the lessons of survival they had learnt across the centuries with a highly ritualised tint on top of her other training. Ramalia adored this high intensity of training, constantly pushed to her limit but more importantly being held in such high esteem by her fellows. A rising star among her people apparently destined to lead them all in a few short decades time. This hope for her future only increased as her semblance developed not long before her 13th birthday. Being able to see through the local animals made Ramalia an incredible asset in hunting, gathering and scavenging. In only a few short years this allowed the tribe to blossom immensely, drawing new families in and claiming new land. And these families in turn brought new skills, craftsman and animal tamers joined further expanding the skill set of the tribe and therefore the tribe's power even further increased.

This run of good luck continued until Ramalia’s 17th birthday and final ritual milestone until adulthood. This trial was far more intense than any before it but everyone was confident that she would pass it seemingly without difficulty like all the others. As a part of this ritual the applicant would ingest a mixture of herbs, some hallucinogenic and some poisonous, Ramalia was them to climb to the highest point within the ‘Ashkhas’s territory, an immense pillar towering out of the ground. It was too hard for conventional climbing tools as otherwise would never of withstood the desert’s wind and sand. Instead the applicant had to use fixed hand holds chiseled into the rock face when the trial began. This wasn’t a complete positive however as many of these crevices had become home to various poisonous spiders adding to the danger of the trial.

Still Ramalia had prepared for the trail all year, she had taken in all the lessons those who had done it before had to give, and she was still the most gifted of her tribe, she couldn’t fail. She shouldn’t fail. She did fail. The climb was perilous, a thick fog had drifted in from the sea soaking the hand holds. This didn’t stop Ramalia however as her grip was strong and will stronger and in only a few short hours she reached the top. It was the second stage which she couldn’t accomplish. Here the applicant would meditate on the tip of the pillar, hear the voices of the desert and be given their adult name. On the third day Ramalia run out of food. On the fifth, the water was all gone. By the seventh Ramalia lay dying from exposure, the desert did not speak to her. She would have no place within the tribe.

Luckily for Ramalia. members of the ‘Ashkhas had come to watch her finish the trial. After the seventh day the had grown so worried and believing there was no way Ramalia could have failed went up the pillar to rescue her. Assuming her collapsed form some kind of religious experience rather than simple exhaustion the tribespeople took Ramalia back to their caravans to recover. It took a few days for Ramalia to awaken but when she did she revealed with great shame her failure in the last trial. The tribe formed a council to decide what to do with Ramalia. If the desert didn’t acknowledge her then the tribe believed that if she joined them as an adult that disdain would carry on to them. The desert which almost everyone had lost someone to when it was appeased, none were willing to take the risk of what the desert would do if it grew angry with them

Although a highly practical people the animistic religious beliefs of the ‘Ashkhas here core to their very being and although it would seem wasteful to outsiders they knew the only solution was sacrifice. Drowning in the sea to be specific so the desert’s rejected daughter would no longer pollute it’s sands. The trip was dark and sombre, no one had expected this outcome and now it had occurred it seemed like a dream. Ramalia, their perfect scion, had been rejected by the forces they worship and now had to be killed. Ramalia response was more determined, she knew the laws of the desert as well as any of her kin and she understood the punishments for breaking them even through no action of her own. She was kept in chains but they weren’t needed, Ramalia would meet her death the way the sand willed it. Everything she had known had vanished and now the people she had spilled blood time and time again for had decided to kill her but if this was the plan for her she would accept it.

As they reached the beach the tribe waited for low tide before walking Ramalia out into the sea. Attaching weights and trapping her there and left waiting for the tide to come in and drown her. In the following hours the tribe beseeched the desert for mercy. Ramalia joined in their prayers but the winds howls held no words and no potents was seen. The waves were going over Ramalia’s face before succor arrived. The ‘Ashkhas’ religious leader had found a loophole. Although not being given an adult name clearly meant that the desert didn’t want her in the tribe and exile would be a far worse fate than drowning there are ways Ramalia could serve the tribe without being part of it. As the tribe’s fortunes improved they had more and more dealings with the outside world. They had learnt about; Vacuo, Vale, Mistral and Atlas, how large the world is and so on. They wanted someone they could trust to leave their desert and inform them of the world.

Hunter Schools seemed like the natural fit to form a connection between the ‘Ashkha and the world as a whole. Ramalia did surprisingly well on the academic side of the entrance exams, a sound mathematical mind combined with a lifetime learning passages by heart meant she had all the basics were down pat. The combat sections were easier but Shade’s combat instructors isolated several significant weakness that they want to get around to fixing as soon as possible. Being trained by some of the best minds the world had to offer Ramalia summarises these lessons and sends them home as well as any piece of technology she ccould spare. As for how she does in school over all Ramalia is very determined in her mission to pass on her lessons to her tribe and as such puts a lot of effort into understanding the subject matter. However that same devotion holds her back in a lot of aspects, the religious beliefs of the ‘Ashkhar makes her stumble a lot in almost all aspects of learning.

Personality: Ramalia can seem very stoic and aloof at first glance or at least while sober. Growing up in an environment where strength and obedience was all she has had difficulty adapting to a society with a far wider spread of individuals. Ramalia of course doesn’t consider herself aloof, in fact she quite likes the idea of being the wild barbarian queen from the wastes and plays that kind of persona up. There is a degree of self awareness to this persona however with knowing first hand that strength isn’t always going to be enough to solve all her issues.

That still doesn’t mean that strength and directness aren’t her first port of call, being aware of other solutions doesn’t make Ramalia any better at capitalising on them. The only small exceptions to this are in the wild. The ‘Ashkha made their wealth off scavenging and as such Ramalia has a lot of practice in scanning the battlefield for anything that could be useful in the fight now or future.

The most obvious personality quirk of Ramalia is her unorthodox worldview. Firstly she is quite accepting of other people's explanations, trusting their perspective until they give her a reason to doubt it. This does leave Ramalia rather incurious, interested more in what things are rather that why. Secondly living in the deserts outside Vacuo has left Ramalia amoral or at least possessing a relative morality with the highest value placed on the survival of the tribe and everything else in relation to that ideal. The third is although Ramalia is a reasonably intelligent woman particularly concerning weather patterns her ‘whys’ would cause equal parts laughter and disbelief from the meteorological community, pressure systems being the will of the desert, ground water basically being magic and the water cycle being caused because of a pact between the original ‘Ashkha and the desert itself. Although humourous a more impactful example is concerning the laws of Vacuo. Not really respecting the institution itself Ramalia hasn’t bothered to learn the laws above enough to pass civic classes. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand that killing and stealing are wrong but anything beyond that is a grey area.

As for personal relationships Ramalia doesn’t truly understand much of the familial structure of the outside world. Raised communally she doesn’t understand what the point of father, mother and sibling relations are. Even the more casual relationships seem a bit odd. Almost everything has a practical purpose among the ‘Ashkha and as such friendships are based simply shared preferences instead of hunting/scavenging partners. This doesn’t mean that Ramalia rejects requests of friendship she simply doesn’t really understand her role in the relationship resulting her going too personal or not personal enough. As for the relation with her tribe Ramalia often sends personal messages with her lessons but never receives responses. Although at the time an alternative was seemingly completely supported but now many worry it wasn’t enough. Living in such a treacherous land as the Vacuo Deserts death isn’t an uncommon event and there is always the half thought that it was because the desert is displeased.

Aura and Semblance: From necessity the ‘Ashkha had learnt several lessons to do with aura and they passed this onto their children. Ramalia’s natural strength carries over to here as well giving her a massive pool to draw upon. However there is a reason why textbook training is in the textbook and her lack of finesse reduces Ramalia’s effective aural strength to average. Taking on a steel blue colour Ramalia's aura was just another thing people pointed at to prove her seemingly preordained destiny, sharing of the local Wild Heliotrope, called scorpionweed by most Vacuoians due it attracting the poisonous arachnids favorite meal, a wild flower whose bright colours could be seen for miles and always indicated water was nearby.

Ramalia’s semblance is Wild Eyes, allowing her to ‘look’ through the senses of animals within a large area. She has limited control, acting more like a backseat driver and has an instinctive understanding of how to apply these senses even those without human mirror like a bat’s echolocation. Ramalia can look through one animal without substantially reducing her effectiveness although it is still requires substantial concentration. Anything above that Ramalia’s mind will quickly grow overwhelmed from all the information. Discovering a way to deal with this Ramalia can enter a meditative state to help process the information allowing her to piggy back dozens of animals quickly forming a detailed map of her surroundings. This results in a massive drain on Ramalia’s stamina to the point she would only be able to use this level twice in a day if she was bed bound for the entire time. A single animal can be maintained for hours before rest is needed. The power is instantaneous to activate and marked only by a flash of white from her eyes often hidden by goggles which remain pure white for the duration of the semblance.

As little control Ramalia has over animals she would never be able to force animals to attack grimm and even human foes are rarely worth it. Instead this provides various perception advantages like a bird’s eye view or a snake’s sense of touch to aid Ramalia in whatever endeavour she is pursuing.

Combat Behavior: As someone would expect from her size Ramalia highly relies on her overwhelming strength augmented by her surprisingly advanced technology. Mostly ranged Ramalia prefers to devastate her foes from afar with an endless barrage with her cannon. The huge firepower of this weapon is balanced slightly by its slow rate of fire which makes it impossible to truly pin down foes if she can’t blast them away. The heavy weight of her weapon as well as her metal plating she wears does slow Ramalia down substantially both in pure speed and manoeuvrability and she is unwilling to resort to ‘rocket jumping’ due to her desire to still have legs. Still Ramalia has tried to offset this by training her stamina and can keep running for hours even with all her gear in the blazing desert sun.

For close combat Ramalia relies on the power fists covering her arms. Mostly these are used to help deal the cannon’s recoil and soften the heat it gives off but they can be applied in combat directly as well. Augmenting her physical strength as well as allowing her to unleash gouts of dust means that Ramalia can be as devastating an opponent at melee as she can at range. Similar weaknesses apply however as for all the incredible strength Ramalia can put behind each blow they are slow and predictable, favouring heavy swings over jabs. This means that melee combat is only implemented in desperation or when Ramalia is confident in her victory, which often doesn’t go how she expects. Ramalia also rarely uses anything outside her arms while fighting, preferring instead to stun her opponents with a robo-boosted hook the move in for the grapple.

Fundamentally the biggest weakness is although her strength and stamina have been built up over the years Ramalia has never been able to seriously improve her dexterity. Lacking any true ability to make up for this Ramalia often finds herself at the mercy of those who can’t who manage either through speed or ingenuity to counter her rather one-trick approach. As mentioned above however Ramalia has very good battlefield awareness allowing her quickly, for her, follow and give orders even the chaos of a full scale battle.

Although not directly relating to her combat behaviour Ramalia keeps several ‘pets’ from her time in the desert to help assist her semblance. A small snake, desert eagle and wolf have all joined the menagerie Ramalia is slowly turning Shade into. They mean that she always has their senses at her disposal even when no other animals are nearby but she has also had more practice controlling these through her semblance and therefore more effective than truly wild creatures.

WEAPON 1
Spoiler: show


Name: Cannon

Primary Form: A short fat barrel forms the majority of the weapon. A rusted red colouration is only broken up by a series of modifications, some with practical applications while others are more religious. The most obvious is the glass dome emerging from the top of the weapon, it contains a massive supply of kinetic and fire dust which acts as the ignition for the weapon. Other than that is the large tube which connects the weapon to the backpack Ramalia wears which stores her ammunition and transports it to the cannon when needed. A few switches are on the weapon itself to control which ammo type gets dispensed and they usually work. Other than that some small attempts to reduce the recoil have been made since at Shade, mostly mechanical as any more dust would make the cannon into more of a bomb.

Ammunition: Although the weapon only has one form, minus a storage form which clips onto the backpack and collapses the glass dome, the true variety of the weapon is in it’s ammunition. Traditional cannon shot of course make up the majority as Ramalia’s arsenal, injected with a small amount of dust these can do little more than additional damage. Chain shot is Ramalia’s least common variant as it is very inaccurate and ice dust tends to trap people better but she still carries around a few of this strange ammunition. Grapeshot is the second most prevalent ammunition type Ramalia uses as it helps deal with enemies which have gotten too close and although might do hit as hard as the others is much harder to miss with even at moderate range. The last type are glass rounds, these store a huge amount of dust and can cause massive explosions even if they miss.

Dust Functions: Heavily relying on dust Ramalia makes use of almost every type available to her and is always eager to try a new one out.
   Gravity: Draws people and object closer to the ball
   Fire: Causes an inferno to erupt after contact
   Ice: Freezes foes hit
   Electricity: Seems to arc toward metallic objects as well as carrying a charge
   Wind: Shot moves faster and kicks up a lot of dirt/sand on impact

History: Although the cannon as been in development for most of Ramalia’s life it only really took anything close to the shape it now does when her tribe expanded bringing in more craftsman. This evolution has continued at Shade although Ramalia insists that it remains… easy to repair even if that means it tends to break down more often.

WEAPON 2
Spoiler: show


Name: Gauntlets

Primary Form: Full sleeve mechanical devices these two weapons may not look like much with their junkyard aesthetic but they get the job done. A series of hydraulics detects muscle impulses and moves with Ramalia’s arms boosting her already massive strength with cold steel. Several metal plates are then built around the weapons to make it more protective particularly around the hand and wrist.

Secondary Form: Although initially simply boxing gloves from hell the gauntlets can modify what exactly is on the knuckle to give more adaptability. Bone saws and claws move down from further up the arm to add an additional bite to Ramalia’s swings. Although initially designed to assist with scavenging operations they have already proven themselves equally effective at fighting grimm and intimidating her fellow students.

Dust Functions: Heavily relying on dust Ramalia makes use of almost every type available to her and is always eager to try a new one out.
   Gravity: Allows for the detachment and reattachment of the bone saw and claws, more of an intimidation tactic but can be useful against weak grimm.
   Ice: massively cools Ramalia, and her cannon if held, down. Designed more as a shock to ensure the upper hand in grapples or other close combat.
   Electricity: Although initially designed as a single damage increase Ramalia tends to save this for recharging devices found on her missions.
   Wind: Blasts her opponent away, hopefully lining up a good shot with her cannon.
   Water: Performs a similar job, if slightly worse at it, as Wind dust with the additional bonuses of survival implications and disrupting vision.
   Earth: Even further increasing Ramalia’s strength for a short period of time. This can also be used to further stabilised the cannon allowing for a short period of faster fire, still far below most other handheld weapons.

History: These weren’t originally Ramalia’s, given to her on the eve of her 17th birthday and that failed trial as an attempt to curry favour among the assumed successor of the tribe. When Ramalia failed the original owner didn’t want any chance of sharing in the desert’s displeasure and refused to accept them back. Ramalia has made good use of them since.

3
WiP Characters / Ramalia
« on: November 30, 2017, 08:26:46 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Ramalia.

Age: 18.

Species and Gender: Human Female.

Symbol:  A desert eagle flying in an empty sky.

Occupation: First Year Shade Student.

Appearance: Ramalia is a true mountain of a woman, standing 6’5 tall clad in layers of hard, thick muscle from life outside the kingdoms. An olive complexion is mostly free of scars and matches her deep amber eyes all framed by short blond hair, matted and rough from years in the wild. Tribal tattoos cover her left eye and right arm, three jagged lines over the eye and a maze of lines and solid blocks fully comprehensible only to those who were born among her tribe.

Ramalia still prefers to wear the same clothing she wore when apart of her tribe, finding comfort in its familiar weight, even though it marks her as an outsider in Vacuo. Hard layers of leather worn and tough cover most of Ramalia’s body protecting it from the sun and heat. Reinforced by slabs of scrap metal found in throughout the Great Vacuo Desert to protect against the Grimm as well as augmenting her physical strikes. Although the leather is naturally a bland brown the scavenged metal often has bright coloured strips which can be covered with cloth if stealth is required. The googles Ramalia wears to protect her eyes from the sun are also red. Ramalia rarely wears ‘traditional’ clothing and never formal clothing even the school uniform.

Possessing a rhythmic, sing song tone of speech which contrasts severely with her harsh exterior and slightly hunched posture. This flawed posture only gets worse while sitting or lying down, very much a sprawler, Ramalia can take up a ridiculous amount of room and sees nothing wrong with such. This carries over to her other gestures; Ramalia laughs loud, eats louder, parties loudest and has the stamina and frankly the temper to go from an hours long drinking binge to a full blown fight.

History: Ramalia was born among one of the tribes desperately trying to survive deep within the wasteland of Vacuo’s most harsh deserts. The ‘Ashkhas Formed from a mixture of humans and faunus centuries ago this tribe managed to evolve to mostly survive in the desert alone. Still there are things that even the most resourceful hunters can’t procure on their own as such the tribe took to unsanctioned scavenging, looting wrecks too far inland, too infested with grimm or too recent for other crews. With this they traded for dust, water and food as well as the occasional piece of technology.

This was the hard and harsh world which Ramalia was born into. An amoral mess where the constant danger of grimm was only surpassed by the desert weather with it’s blistering hot days and freezing cold nights. Raised collectively by the tribe Ramalia and her generation had their place designated by their performance in several ritualistic trials with as much vague symbolism as actual test at the end of ever year past their fifth birthday. Ramalia performed extremely well in these trials as she grew faster and stronger than the others, she took in the lessons faster and could last longer in the wilds.

The religious leader of her tribe took an interest early on and began drilling the lessons of survival they had learnt across the centuries with a highly ritualised tint on top of her other training. Ramalia adored this high intensity of training, constantly pushed to her limit but more importantly being held in such high esteem by her fellows. A rising star among her people apparently destined to lead them all in a few short decades time. This hope for her future only increased as her semblance developed not long before her 13th birthday. Being able to see through the local animals made Ramalia an incredible asset in hunting, gathering and scavenging. In only a few short years this allowed the tribe to blossom immensely, drawing new families in and claiming new land. And these families in turn brought new skills, craftsman and animal tamers joined further expanding the skill set of the tribe and therefore the tribe's power even further increased.

This run of good luck continued until Ramalia’s 17th birthday and final ritual milestone until adulthood. This trial was far more intense than any before it but everyone was confident that she would pass it seemingly without difficulty like all the others. As a part of this ritual the applicant would ingest a mixture of herbs, some hallucinogenic and some poisonous, Ramalia was them to climb to the highest point within the ‘Ashkhas’s territory, an immense pillar towering out of the ground. It was too hard for conventional climbing tools as otherwise would never of withstood the desert’s wind and sand. Instead the applicant had to use fixed hand holds chiseled into the rock face when the trial began. This wasn’t a complete positive however as many of these crevices had become home to various poisonous spiders adding to the danger of the trial.

Still Ramalia had prepared for the trail all year, she had taken in all the lessons those who had done it before had to give, and she was still the most gifted of her tribe, she couldn’t fail. She shouldn’t fail. She did fail. The climb was perilous, a thick fog had drifted in from the sea soaking the hand holds. This didn’t stop Ramalia however as her grip was strong and will stronger and in only a few short hours she reached the top. It was the second stage which she couldn’t accomplish. Here the applicant would meditate on the tip of the pillar, hear the voices of the desert and be given their adult name. On the third day Ramalia run out of food. On the fifth, the water was all gone. By the seventh Ramalia lay dying from exposure, the desert did not speak to her. She would have no place within the tribe.

Luckily for Ramalia. members of the ‘Ashkhas had come to watch her finish the trial. After the seventh day the had grown so worried and believing there was no way Ramalia could have failed went up the pillar to rescue her. Assuming her collapsed form some kind of religious experience rather than simple exhaustion the tribespeople took Ramalia back to their caravans to recover. It took a few days for Ramalia to awaken but when she did she revealed with great shame her failure in the last trial. The tribe formed a council to decide what to do with Ramalia. If the desert didn’t acknowledge her then the tribe believed that if she joined them as an adult that disdain would carry on to them. The desert which almost everyone had lost someone to when it was appeased, none were willing to take the risk of what the desert would do if it grew angry with them

Although a highly practical people the animistic religious beliefs of the ‘Ashkhas here core to their very being and although it would seem wasteful to outsiders they knew the only solution was sacrifice. Drowning in the sea to be specific so the desert’s rejected daughter would no longer pollute it’s sands. The trip was dark and sombre, no one had expected this outcome and now it had occurred it seemed like a dream. Ramalia, their perfect scion, had been rejected by the forces they worship and now had to be killed. Ramalia response was more determined, she knew the laws of the desert as well as any of her kin and she understood the punishments for breaking them even through no action of her own. She was kept in chains but they weren’t needed, Ramalia would meet her death the way the sand willed it. Everything she had known had vanished and now the people she had spilled blood time and time again for had decided to kill her but if this was the plan for her she would accept it.

As they reached the beach the tribe waited for low tide before walking Ramalia out into the sea. Attaching weights and trapping her there and left waiting for the tide to come in and drown her. In the following hours the tribe beseeched the desert for mercy. Ramalia joined in their prayers but the winds howls held no words and no potents was seen. The waves were going over Ramalia’s face before succor arrived. The ‘Ashkhas’ religious leader had found a loophole. Although not being given an adult name clearly meant that the desert didn’t want her in the tribe and exile would be a far worse fate than drowning there are ways Ramalia could serve the tribe without being part of it. As the tribe’s fortunes improved they had more and more dealings with the outside world. They had learnt about; Vacuo, Vale, Mistral and Atlas, how large the world is and so on. They wanted someone they could trust to leave their desert and inform them of the world.

Hunter Schools seemed like the natural fit to form a connection between the ‘Ashkha and the world as a whole. Ramalia did surprisingly well on the academic side of the entrance exams, a sound mathematical mind combined with a lifetime learning passages by heart meant she had all the basics were down pat. The combat sections were easier but Shade’s combat instructors isolated several significant weakness that they want to get around to fixing as soon as possible. Being trained by some of the best minds the world had to offer Ramalia summarises these lessons and sends them home as well as any piece of technology she ccould spare. As for how she does in school over all Ramalia is very determined in her mission to pass on her lessons to her tribe and as such puts a lot of effort into understanding the subject matter. However that same devotion holds her back in a lot of aspects, the religious beliefs of the ‘Ashkhar makes her stumble a lot in almost all aspects of learning.

Personality: Ramalia can seem very stoic and aloof at first glance or at least while sober. Growing up in an environment where strength and obedience was all she has had difficulty adapting to a society with a far wider spread of individuals. Ramalia of course doesn’t consider herself aloof, in fact she quite likes the idea of being the wild barbarian queen from the wastes and plays that kind of persona up. There is a degree of self awareness to this persona however with knowing first hand that strength isn’t always going to be enough to solve all her issues.

That still doesn’t mean that strength and directness aren’t her first port of call, being aware of other solutions doesn’t make Ramalia any better at capitalising on them. The only small exceptions to this are in the wild. The ‘Ashkha made their wealth off scavenging and as such Ramalia has a lot of practice in scanning the battlefield for anything that could be useful in the fight now or future.

The most obvious personality quirk of Ramalia is her unorthodox worldview. Firstly she is quite accepting of other people's explanations, trusting their perspective until they give her a reason to doubt it. This does leave Ramalia rather incurious, interested more in what things are rather that why. Secondly living in the deserts outside Vacuo has left Ramalia amoral or at least possessing a relative morality with the highest value placed on the survival of the tribe and everything else in relation to that ideal. The third is although Ramalia is a reasonably intelligent woman particularly concerning weather patterns her ‘whys’ would cause equal parts laughter and disbelief from the meteorological community, pressure systems being the will of the desert, ground water basically being magic and the water cycle being caused because of a pact between the original ‘Ashkha and the desert itself. Although humourous a more impactful example is concerning the laws of Vacuo. Not really respecting the institution itself Ramalia hasn’t bothered to learn the laws above enough to pass civic classes. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand that killing and stealing are wrong but anything beyond that is a grey area.

As for personal relationships Ramalia doesn’t truly understand much of the familial structure of the outside world. Raised communally she doesn’t understand what the point of father, mother and sibling relations are. Even the more casual relationships seem a bit odd. Almost everything has a practical purpose among the ‘Ashkha and as such friendships are based simply shared preferences instead of hunting/scavenging partners. This doesn’t mean that Ramalia rejects requests of friendship she simply doesn’t really understand her role in the relationship resulting her going too personal or not personal enough. As for the relation with her tribe Ramalia often sends personal messages with her lessons but never receives responses. Although at the time an alternative was seemingly completely supported but now many worry it wasn’t enough. Living in such a treacherous land as the Vacuo Deserts death isn’t an uncommon event and there is always the half thought that it was because the desert is displeased.

Aura and Semblance: From necessity the ‘Ashkha had learnt several lessons to do with aura and they passed this onto their children. Ramalia’s natural strength carries over to here as well giving her a massive pool to draw upon. However there is a reason why textbook training is in the textbook and her lack of finesse reduces Ramalia’s effective aural strength to average.

Ramalia’s semblance is Wild Eyes, allowing her to ‘look’ through the senses of animals within a large area. She has limited control, acting more like a backseat driver and has an instinctive understanding of how to apply these senses even those without human mirror like a bat’s echolocation. Ramalia can look through one animal without substantially reducing her effectiveness although it is still requires substantial concentration. Anything above that Ramalia’s mind will quickly grow overwhelmed from all the information. Discovering a way to deal with this Ramalia can enter a meditative state to help process the information allowing her to piggy back dozens of animals quickly forming a detailed map of her surroundings. This results in a massive drain on Ramalia’s stamina to the point she would only be able to use this level twice in a day if she was bed bound for the entire time. A single animal can be maintained for hours before rest is needed. The power is instantaneous to activate and marked only by a flash of white from her eyes often hidden by goggles which remain pure white for the duration of the semblance.

As little control Ramalia has over animals she would never be able to force animals to attack grimm and even human foes are rarely worth it. Instead this provides various perception advantages like a bird’s eye view or a snake’s sense of touch to aid Ramalia in whatever endeavour she is pursuing.

Combat Behavior: As someone would expect from her size Ramalia highly relies on her overwhelming strength augmented by her surprisingly advanced technology. Mostly ranged Ramalia prefers to devastate her foes from afar with an endless barrage with her cannon. The huge firepower of this weapon is balanced slightly by its slow rate of fire which makes it impossible to truly pin down foes if she can’t blast them away. The heavy weight of her weapon as well as her metal plating she wears does slow Ramalia down substantially both in pure speed and manoeuvrability and she is unwilling to resort to ‘rocket jumping’ due to her desire to still have legs. Still Ramalia has tried to offset this by training her stamina and can keep running for hours even with all her gear in the blazing desert sun.

For close combat Ramalia relies on the power fists covering her arms. Mostly these are used to help deal the cannon’s recoil and soften the heat it gives off but they can be applied in combat directly as well. Augmenting her physical strength as well as allowing her to unleash gouts of dust means that Ramalia can be as devastating an opponent at melee as she can at range. Similar weaknesses apply however as for all the incredible strength Ramalia can put behind each blow they are slow and predictable, favouring heavy swings over jabs. This means that melee combat is only implemented in desperation or when Ramalia is confident in her victory, which often doesn’t go how she expects. Ramalia also rarely uses anything outside her arms while fighting, preferring instead to stun her opponents with a robo-boosted hook the move in for the grapple.

Fundamentally the biggest weakness is although her strength and stamina have been built up over the years Ramalia has never been able to seriously improve her dexterity. Lacking any true ability to make up for this Ramalia often finds herself at the mercy of those who can’t who manage either through speed or ingenuity to counter her rather one-trick approach. As mentioned above however Ramalia has very good battlefield awareness allowing her quickly, for her, follow and give orders even the chaos of a full scale battle.

Although not directly relating to her combat behaviour Ramalia keeps several ‘pets’ from her time in the desert to help assist her semblance. A small snake, desert eagle and wolf have all joined the menagerie Ramalia is slowly turning Shade into. They mean that she always has their senses at her disposal even when no other animals are nearby but she has also had more practice controlling these through her semblance and therefore more effective than truly wild creatures.

WEAPON 1
Spoiler: show


Name: Cannon

Primary Form: A short fat barrel forms the majority of the weapon. A rusted red colouration is only broken up by a series of modifications, some with practical applications while others are more religious. The most obvious is the glass dome emerging from the top of the weapon, it contains a massive supply of kinetic and fire dust which acts as the ignition for the weapon. Other than that is the large tube which connects the weapon to the backpack Ramalia wears which stores her ammunition and transports it to the cannon when needed. A few switches are on the weapon itself to control which ammo type gets dispensed and they usually work. Other than that some small attempts to reduce the recoil have been made since at Shade, mostly mechanical as any more dust would make the cannon into more of a bomb.

Ammunition: Although the weapon only has one form, minus a storage form which clips onto the backpack and collapses the glass dome, the true variety of the weapon is in it’s ammunition. Traditional cannon shot of course make up the majority as Ramalia’s arsenal, injected with a small amount of dust these can do little more than additional damage. Chain shot is Ramalia’s least common variant as it is very inaccurate and ice dust tends to trap people better but she still carries around a few of this strange ammunition. Grapeshot is the second most prevalent ammunition type Ramalia uses as it helps deal with enemies which have gotten too close and although might do hit as hard as the others is much harder to miss with even at moderate range. The last type are glass rounds, these store a huge amount of dust and can cause massive explosions even if they miss.

Dust Functions: Heavily relying on dust Ramalia makes use of almost every type available to her and is always eager to try a new one out.
   Gravity: Draws people and object closer to the ball
   Fire: Causes an inferno to erupt after contact
   Ice: Freezes foes hit
   Electricity: Seems to arc toward metallic objects as well as carrying a charge
   Wind: Shot moves faster and kicks up a lot of dirt/sand on impact

History: Although the cannon as been in development for most of Ramalia’s life it only really took anything close to the shape it now does when her tribe expanded bringing in more craftsman. This evolution has continued at Shade although Ramalia insists that it remains… easy to repair even if that means it tends to break down more often.

WEAPON 2
Spoiler: show


Name: Gauntlets

Primary Form: Full sleeve mechanical devices these two weapons may not look like much with their junkyard aesthetic but they get the job done. A series of hydraulics detects muscle impulses and moves with Ramalia’s arms boosting her already massive strength with cold steel. Several metal plates are then built around the weapons to make it more protective particularly around the hand and wrist.

Secondary Form: Although initially simply boxing gloves from hell the gauntlets can modify what exactly is on the knuckle to give more adaptability. Bone saws and claws move down from further up the arm to add an additional bite to Ramalia’s swings. Although initially designed to assist with scavenging operations they have already proven themselves equally effective at fighting grimm and intimidating her fellow students.

Dust Functions: Heavily relying on dust Ramalia makes use of almost every type available to her and is always eager to try a new one out.
   Gravity: Allows for the detachment and reattachment of the bone saw and claws, more of an intimidation tactic but can be useful against weak grimm.
   Ice: massively cools Ramalia, and her cannon if held, down. Designed more as a shock to ensure the upper hand in grapples or other close combat.
   Electricity: Although initially designed as a single damage increase Ramalia tends to save this for recharging devices found on her missions.
   Wind: Blasts her opponent away, hopefully lining up a good shot with her cannon.
   Water: Performs a similar job, if slightly worse at it, as Wind dust with the additional bonuses of survival implications and disrupting vision.
   Earth: Even further increasing Ramalia’s strength for a short period of time. This can also be used to further stabilised the cannon allowing for a short period of faster fire, still far below most other handheld weapons.

History: These weren’t originally Ramalia’s, given to her on the eve of her 17th birthday and that failed trial as an attempt to curry favour among the assumed successor of the tribe. When Ramalia failed the original owner didn’t want any chance of sharing in the desert’s displeasure and refused to accept them back. Ramalia has made good use of them since.

4
Flying high in the sky returning from a job Cornell's celebrations are cut short from a bleep from a scroll. It's the only warning she gets before her contact launches into a rapid fire sales pitch.

Hey, hey, why isn't my favourite pirate? Let me tell you I've found the best pay days you'll ever get. Classy lady do some exposing thing asked for you by name, says you both have a lot in common. Won't tell me details but wants to meet face to face. I'll pass on her location but you better remember who put you two in contact when the lien comes in. I'd say good luck but you don't need it, but come around some time. The kid loves ya.

The contact hangs up as quickly as he spoke and the coffin is engulfed in silence once more. Longitude and latitude coordinates come through a moment later, the woman her contact was talking about is nearby on an island off the Vacuo side of Sanus. Uninhabited or at least it was the last time Cornell checked. Although the sun was still bright clouds seemed to be coming from the north and despite everything an odd feeling started building within Cornell.

Once Cornell gets close to the island she is suprised to see that her scans have picked up a rather substantial base on the island equipped with large defensive batteries which although designed to fight grimm could still cause havoc on the Red Corsair's shields. The building itself is squat and utilitarian but there is no movement around the facility. A landing bay close to the main hanger is empty but strangly enough the Corsair would be the only craft on the island, no ships or air craft are visible on the Corsair's scans.

5
Saffron took a few minutes to prepare herself to meet with the headmaster. Washing up to get rid of the fish smell and got into her dress uniform as well as reapplying her makeup before finally, as confident as she was ever going to be to face the headmaster Saffron made her way to his office and went to knock on the door. Before she could, however, the door opened the person Saffron least wanted to see in her state, her mother Elizabeth Artemyeva, walked out. Snapping to a military salute and stepping out of her way. ‘Ma’am.’ Saffron said locking herself behind military protocol. Missing her daughter’s distress Elizabeth simply smiled and returned the salute before gesturing that they would talk later.

Not likely once this gets around. Saffron thought to herself bitterly as she went to knock again but the headmaster’s voice boomed out. ‘You may enter Ms de Cortez.’ Saffron complied and stiffly walked into the headmaster’s office then waited to be addressed again. Amarant Lovis, whose seventy years of life had only sharped his mind, did not address Saffron immediately. Instead, he rose from his seat and walked over to his student studying her silently. Saffron tried her best to remain calm and wait for permission but couldn’t endure the headmaster’s gaze for long and broke protocol. ’There was an incident at Alystra Plaza…’ Saffron began hurriedly before Amarant cut her off by raising his hand.

‘I know what happened at the Plaza.’ Amarant interrupted turning away from Saffron and moved towards one of the several artworks which surrounded the walls of his room and gestured for Saffron to follow. Stuttering as she followed Saffron tried to respond properly to Amarant’s seemingly impossible knowledge. ‘Do you know what this is?’ Amarant asked gesturing to a particular piece. It was a mask, looking like it was made out of stone decorated with semi-precious stones. ‘It… it’s a mask, sorry sir I don’t know its name but I know it’s from Menagerie. Now if I could…’ Saffron replied only to be once again interrupted by Amarant.

‘Yes no one knows their name, you can tell people took effort in its construction with the valuable materials and simply it surviving so long but they didn’t protect its name.’ Amarant continued turning back to face Saffron who met his gaze for a second before the latter breaking off instead studying the mask again. ‘Is this the kind of fate that you want Ms de Cortez?’ Saffron gasped slightly but managed to hold herself still. ‘No Sir.’ Saffron responded through gritted teeth. Amarant cocked his head at his student’s response as his eyes slightly glowed. Blinking a few times, the headmaster turned and made his way back to his desk. ‘So how are we going to stop that?’ Amarant asked coldly as he took his seat.

‘I’ll do better..’ Saffron began only to be interrupted by a harsh ‘How?’ Stuttering Saffron tried to continue ‘I’ll become a better leader..’ But she only managed to get a few words out before Amarant interrupted again. ‘How?’ Saffron was losing herself control, it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t choose this, what right did the headmaster have to treat her like this, why won’t he simply punish her and get it over with. ‘I’ll learn, I’ll try harder, I’ll….’ Saffron answered, her voice rising slightly as her emotions started to overflow. ‘So have  you not been trying before this moment or have we simply not been teaching you.’ Amarant responded, calm as ever only the glow in his eyes started to come back.

'WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? THAT I WOULD HAVE GONE ALONG WITH THE PLAN IF IT WOULD KEEP MY TEAMMATES OUT OF TROUBLE AND NOTHING IS GOING TO CHANGE THAT? THAT I DON’T HAVE CONTROL OF SALT BUT I DON’T WANT TO?’ Saffron screamed letting the emotion which had been building up since the incident loose. Her outburst had left her physically drained and it was in this pit of exhaustion that the reality of the situation hit home. ‘Sir… I’m sorry…. That was…There is no excuse.’ Saffron apologised profusely. Amarant was silent for a few moments and Saffron shuffled uncomfortably in the void. ‘You are right Ms de Cortez, there is no excuse. I appreciate your frankness and you coming to me. I’ll take it into consideration with your punishment. You can leave now…. And take the mask with you, for a reminder.’ Amarant finished turning his attention to the paperwork in front of him.

Saffron stood still, face downcast, for a few moments before wordlessly complying. Hefting the stone mask and made her way back to the team room. The whole interaction had taken less than a minute but had left Saffron shaking and exhausted beyond words. Leaving the mask by her bed the last thing Saffron wanted to do was wait around for her team to come back so she headed back out to the training arenas. Walking slowly out of the rooms and tried to get her mind off the day but her movements lacked any speed or determination to actually get her to that stage.

6
Teams / [Fulfilled] Thank you
« on: September 26, 2017, 08:42:43 AM »
So yea the title already kinda says it. The current team is made out of glorious leader Setsuna Antiqua, the lovely Anna Fall and the not so lovely Calen Shrike. Personally the biggest thing for me is the 'T' thing but if you would like to join us could you also give a summary of how do you think interactions between your character and the rest of the established members.

7
Approved Characters / Atlas Headmaster, Amarant Lovis
« on: September 06, 2017, 07:04:36 AM »
CHARACTER

Name: Amarant Lovis

Age: 70, Born 29th of Amare

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol:
Spoiler: show


Occupation: Atlas Headmaster

Appearance: 6’4 tall and, with the exceptions of salt-and-pepper hair and a few wrinkles, Amarant shows little signs of age. His mind and body are kept in perfect shape and the students of Atlas often see their headmaster training with even full-fledged hunters struggling to keep up. Cold blue eyes usually covered by polarised sunglasses, an unflinching stare and a commanding voice adds legions to Amarant’s natural intimidating aura making him an imposing force even without his combat expertise. Skin free of tattoos or scars, one could be forgiven for thinking Amarant was a retired bodybuilder if they didn’t know him but he simply is, or was, that good.

Rarely seen out of his dress uniform, except when exercising, Amarant regulates his multiple medals to storage and instead only displays his rank and Atlas Insignia. In the rare case he is out of that uniform, his clothing is always formal, even his exercise uniform is high tech and professional. The armour he used to wear in combat appears to be standard Atlas light armour with a whole host of modifications. In his combat armour what stands out most is the trio of wings sprouting from his back, designed with heroic leadership in mind the emotional impact of being charged by Amarant has broken as many lines as his physical impact.

History: Amarant Lovis has a long, hard but mostly successful life so far in service of the Atlesian Kingdom. Born ten years after the then-Mantelen and Mistrali defeat Amarant was born into a Kingdom on the edge of ruin. Being on the losing side of the war had bankrupted their economy and the hate and fear of returning soldiers was only attracting more Grimm. The Academies had been established yes but it was going to take time for their graduates to be able to fully protect Solitas’ harsh tundra. Still the cold breeds proud people and they persisted. Lead at the time by Alexandria Sokolov, a veteran of the Greyed War, who lead a rebirth of then-Mantle through revolutionising the countries industry, government and most importantly military. Bringing their military might back to pre-Greyed War strength in a matter of decades. This was the atmosphere where Amarant was raised, a devout servant to a kingdom which valued strength, ingenuity and endurance in equal measure.

As a huntsman-in-training Amarant had already made a name for himself as an expert warrior even bring down a rogue Atlas huntsman, with the aid of his team, while still a student. More impressively he did it without drawing attention from the international community who were growing very suspicious of then-Mantle’s militarisation. His team ACCE run rampant through the Vytal festival through all four years of their time at the academy and in an unprecedented achievement took out the singles, doubles and team brackets. Amarant formed a tight bond with his teammates which has lasted even to this day with every member a part of the Academies staff in one way or another. It was also at the academy where Amarant started to learn under Alexandria herself who had taken up the position of headmistress after the kingdom had settled down. She had an enormous influence on Amarant, she took him under her wing and soon her highly disciplined and organised command style started to be heavily influence his own.

The only blotch on his record is the Faunus Revolution. With several of their factories attacked many in Atlas saw this ‘so-called-revolution’ as an attack against them by militants or worse foreign powers. As such many from Atlas joined to volunteer armies resisting the revolution lead by the ageing Alexandria Sokolov, Amarant and his team followed. In the beginning, there was little animosity against their Faunus opponents but as the war dragged on and thousands died that civility evaporated. Amarant however started to more and more respect his foe. Lacking in the technological superiority of the volunteer Altesian armies they made do with evasive tactics, never attacking full on unless a unit’s supplies had been cut and their leader taken out. Alexandra may have written the book on Atlas military strategy and turned them into the apex fighting force on Remnant but only when all the gears were working in unison. As such things went from bad to worse for Amarant and his allies and despite scoring several minor victories the volunteer forces were defeated at Fort Castle. Alexandra herself was killed in the fighting and without her leadership the army quickly vanished and the revolution was declared a success.

When his team and many Atlas forces were lost in the aftermath of the revolution it was Amarant who gathered them and put them to use. The hatred and despair were channelled into productive measures targeting Grimm nests or bandit tribes to ensure Atlas would never be weak like it was after the Greyed War. Putting aside the loss of his mentor and many friends was difficult and caused a lot of people to question the value Amarant placed in them. And in a way, they were right to. Amarant may have fought in the trenches alongside them but to him, even his team, where weapons made to be used. This did not make him wastefully however and over time Amarant managed to convince many to see things his way although he still has fierce arguments with his team mates to this day.

Regardless of how much good this roving band doing it was not a sustainable operation. Atlas had proven twice now that their military could not be trusted and as such sanctions where put in place limiting it’s numbers. It was here that Amarant floated the idea of the Atlas Specialists. The line infantry could be retrained but fighters with hunter-level skill needed a support network and meaning in their lives. The specialist program could provide them that and more importantly for the board of generals it allowed Atlas to keep it’s most powerful fighters and could even start expanding when automated droids started to become more common while still abiding by the international regulations. For Amarant however, it wasn’t about the prestige of the Atlas military it was about providing support for his allies as well as filling the gap in Alexandria’s strategies. The value of individual, highly trained operatives working in conjunction with the entire might of the Atlesian military could not be overestimated and under Amarant’s guidance it’s deployment became an art form.

Amarant then served two decades in the newly formed Atlas Specialists, eventually taking command of the unit and quickly became the public face for this new initiative. The other Kingdoms clearly saw what Atlas was trying to do, getting around their sanctions, but there wasn’t enough political will to force anything with Mistral dragging it’s heels. With this semi-acceptance the Atlas Specialists forged themselves a reputation to match those of hunters, at least in their home land. Even Faunus started to want to join the organisation. Originally Amarant was sceptical; it was one thing to respect these people as fighters, it’s another completely to call them brother and sister. The White Fang was also on the rise and radical elements were already attacking Atlas facilities, which the Specialists were proving themselves capable at defeating, but also using the facilities like Atlas academy itself to train their operatives. Still Amarant decided to admit a single Faunus, more as a political move to show how far the Atlas military had come.

Initially only allowed on the most simply missions the Faunus proved himself over and over again to the point even veterans of the revolutionary war begrudgingly started to accept him. It was here, late in life, where Amarant discovered his true great passion in teaching others. Amarant took the Faunus under his wing just as Alexandria took him all those years ago and moulded him into one of the finest weapons in his arsenal. Blessed with a worthy successor Amarant started to think about the next stage of his life, he was getting old, ‘old, slow and dumb’ he would joke and the extended run of peace seemed to suggest he would better serve as in a support role. As such he decided to resign from his position as commander of the Specialists, instating his protegee before so, then walked into the academy and applied for a job. The teachers at Atlas Academy where surprised to say the least by Amarant quickly proved himself as capable off the battlefield as he was on in.

It became apparent that although Amarant was capable of bring out the best of individuals under his direct tutelage he struggled with larger classes. His focus on perfection lead him to often pace his lessons around the brightest in the class rather than the average creating some extremely capably hunters, or more likely Specialists, but also pushed many out of the academy as they simply fell behind. Amarant’s colleagues brought this up to him but try as he might he simply couldn’t evolve his teaching technique. As such he was moved to a more specialist role, providing final stage training to those who had already proven themselves. Amarant developed this program into an official system by the time the Atlas headmaster stepped down and as such Amarant was considered the likely replacement. This was due more to his international presence and fame rather than teaching experience but he still had the full support of the teaching staff.

Amarant has only served as headmaster for four years during which he has institutionalised his specialist training regime and ramped up the militarisation of it’s general training. Large focus is put in maintaining teams after graduation even if they don’t go into the Specialists with military protocol drilled in as soon as students enter the gate. Amarant is aware how this looks to the outside world and his argument that it generates superior fighters would be ignored even though it’s his genuine belief. As such Amarant has spent a lot of time on the international stage trying to convince the world of his way of doing things. He has even made trips to Menagerie, a field day for the press, but it was only the start of increased direct investment by Atlas into the Faunus state in a perhaps overly optimistic attempt to unite the two peoples. Even if the diplomatic angle fails these ventures are still profitable for Atlas businesses and allows them to get their claws into Menageries developing economy.
 
Personality: A calm and collected individual Amarant approaches everything in life like a campaign and he is the general. Polite and respectful even towards his enemies Amarant sees everyone in Atlas, himself included, as a weapon to be used against the Kingdom’s enemies, this can make him seem manipulative and technically he is but everything he does is in service to his people. Never one to act rashly Amarant often held back his assaults until he had as much information as possible and could devastate his opposition in a single blow. Again, life has immense value to him but that value is calculable and although Amarant often took the field himself he also knew when to cut his losses. Possessing a dry wit Amarant jokes surprisingly often but due to his intimidating presence and professional demeanour they are often missed.

Art and language are Amarant’s personal past times. He speaks over a dozen languages, some which are only spoken by a handful of academics in today’s mostly mono-language society. A meaningless skill mostly it still speaks to Amarant desire to understand the world he inhabits and how to most exploit it for the benefit of Atlas. Because of his semblance Amarant gets a lot out of art, knowing why the artist makes every brush stroke adds a huge amount of meaning to even the most simplistic artwork. There is also a practical function, artists are products of their times and culture with even the most divergent a product of their homeland. As such Amarant maintains a steadily expanding collection pieces from across the globe, each giving him an insight into their home unique to them.

Amarant has had a long and bloody history with Faunus, earlier in his life with the revolution and more recently with the terrorist White Fang. Despite all this Amarant has never been able to hate them, even when his team mates fell into that trap, as when confronted by the most horrific acts Amarant’s semblance showed him why and what drove people to commit such crimes. That doesn’t mean he has a loving relationship with remnant's second species, never being able to properly mourn the death of his mentor has left psychological scars which will probably never heal. This combined with rising tension with the White Fang has left Amarant is highly sceptical of most Faunus until they earn his trust, a difficult feat in itself, after which they are rewarded with being another, slightly political, weapon in his arsenal.

As for personal relationships Amarant tries as hard as he can to keep it separate from his professional life, a habit he picked up while fighting White Fang insurgents. He is still a target but has a lot more security for both himself and his loved ones. All the members of ACCE are still alive and fulfil various roles at Atlas Academy in their own right, it would be impractical and pointless to hide that they are still on friendly terms despite want maybe said when they drink. As for love, rumours abound about hidden meet ups on battlefields or other romanticised rubbish but the truth is Amarant has been married to the job since before the revolution and it’s demands have only grown since. Other than that Amarant keeps on friendly terms with many of his Specialists as well as a few international figures. There is no doubt that he is a controversial figure but his calm and apparently open demeanour make him difficult to hate if you have regular interactions with the man.

A journalist once called him a Machiavellian Centaur and although Amarant laughed the comment off it does have some merit. Although he is no longer officially a member of the military, he does retain his rank as a symbolic gesture, even his most calm requests possibly carry serious threats of force behind them. Mastering the fusion between being loved and feared just as the centaur fused man and animal has always been a reality of Amarant’s command style. But in the end this is just another avenue of attack and Amarant combines fear, love and rational pleas just has he combines the three arms of the military to achieve his aims.

Aura and Semblance: As one would expect from a veteran warrior of the highest calibre Amarant has an enormous pool of aura reserves to draw on. Preferring, like in all things, to use his resources offensively and as such is more skilled at augmenting his attacks or created shock waves than defending or healing himself. It’s colour is Navy Blue but that colour leaches out of it the more Amarant uses his abilities leaving it a just before it bursts. harsh white.

As for his semblance, epitomising his analytical nature, Amarant is capable of understand why a choice is made with a glance. This include non-living things like artwork or plant growth as well as unnatural things like Grimm or robotics. He only understands why the studied action takes place not every minor activity the individual is undergoing, such would result in an information overload. Nor can he study more than one action at a time. Still this enormously powerful predictive tool makes Amarant almost unbeatable in one on one combat if he can match his opponents raw physical abilities. Strategist’s Eye as he calls it takes very little of Amarant’s reserves to deploy but Amarant considers it invasive to others privacy to keep it constantly active. Still Amarant does hesitate to use it when he is confronted with something unusual or unexplained, privacy comes secondary to safety in his mind. When in use his eyes slightly glow the same colour as his aura but it’s faint and hard to see unless you know what to look for. As for people who know exactly what his semblance is Amarant has been quite lucky and managed to keep the exact specifics limited exclusive to his team. The general idea, being some sort of enhanced analysis based semblance, is an open secret in the Atlas military.

Combat Behaviour: In his youth Amarant was one of the greatest warriors Atlas had to offer. Specialised in rabid strikes and vicious counterattacks Amarant made his fame in using his enemies strengthens against them. As he has gotten older his speed has faded somewhat, particularly the speed of his sword, but luckily his wings are as fast as ever. Linked as part of his armour these bladed wings are linked to Amarant’s nervous system through experimental surgery and as such hasn’t slowed down as he aged. These four blades can set up a furious pace of blows, three of which are mechanically augmented. This combined with Amarant’s predictive abilities makes this assault extremely difficult to resist. Even without his semblance having four angles of assault plus the dust vents in his armour allow him to deal with hoards effectively.

There is a risk using his wings as offensive weapons however, the damage of even one can greatly reduce his mobility. Mobility adds a large amount of adaptability to Amarant’s style and this hasn’t changed as he aged. Lacking some of the overwhelming strength of other hunters Amarant needs that mobility to get through defences to bring his razor edges to bare. The three wings also give him a seemingly erratic flight pattern which makes him hard to hit at range. An advantageous ability given his limited range options and habit of making a target out of himself. The most effective way to bring Amarant down would be surprise, he can fly with his own wings so overwhelming physical assault or explosives would be the best bet. Mental trickery would also be effective but due to his analytical prowess even without his semblance Amarant his capable of seeing through most illusions. Amarant does also carry a large amount of dust on his person and although his armour has precautions against it exploding they aren’t fail-safe.

Although not specifically part of his combat behaviour it is worth noting that Amarant makes a large effort to gather as much information on anyone who could be a threat. This includes his own Atlas students as well as notable hunters-in-training across the globe. Amarant’s uncanny perceptive abilities have created a rumour that Atlas Academy or at least the students are under constant surveillance, again this is mostly true although Amarant does try to ensure at least some privacy to his students. This concept of knowledge is power has caused Amarant to deploy these surveillance devices almost everywhere he goes. This has left all academies and several foreign military bases bugged and feeding Intel to Atlas.

WEAPONS

Weapon 1

Name: First day of Winter

Primary Form: A standard Zweihander, 6’(1.8m) and 9.5lbs(4kg), complete with parrying hooks and a wide curved upwards cross guard depicting two mechanical arms. The metal is well-wrought and several names are carved along the blade of the weapon. The blade also possessing a tiny computer system only having the capacity to adjust the cross guard to grab weapons being parried and record Amarant’s fights with a 360 degree camera so he can learn from them later.

Secondary Form: The First day of Winter collapses into a forth of it’s size and the cross guards fold in. The makes the weapon far more easy to transport over long distances or while flying.

Dust Functions: The sword has it’s reservoir of dust but can connect to Amarant’s armour to either use the armour’s reservoir or add to it. The First day of Winter has a small reserve, enough for three uses, of all major forms of dust. Most of these manifest like fire, ice or electric as blasts from the tip while others like gravity dust can repulse or attract objects to the weapon.

History: Original Alexandria Sokolov’s weapon and Amarant took it after leading a counter attack to reclaim her body after their defeat at Fort Castle. The weapon has remained mostly the same since it was wielded by his mentor except for two major aspects. For one the names of friends how have fallen in battle are carved into the blade. An emotional weak point for Amarant the weapon is one of the few things that can consistently force illogical actions. The second major change is a small computer system was added to the weapon.

Weapon 2

Name: The Wings of the Mountain

Primary Form: A set of three wings which sprout from a large cylinder on his back. The cylinder fits snug into his armour plates and starts at the back of his neck and goes ¾ down his back. At the base of Amarant’s neck is the opening to his spinal socket and as such surrounded by thick armour plates. The wings themselves are around 1.5m, 5’, from tip to bend or around 5m fully extended. The whole set up weighs around 20kg, 44lbs, which is a lot for an old man to carry. Luckily while attached to him, and particularly in the air, it feels a lot lighter but it isn’t something that Amarant is going to bring out unless he knows there is going to be a fight. With a max speed well below supersonic and only with a couple hours of flight time The Wings of the Mountain are not a transporting device and instead epitomise Amarant’s reliance on technology, preference for fast paced combat and heroic leadership.

Dust Functions: The Wings of the Mountain has the same dust functions as The First Day of Winter, the sword, except it has a much larger supply of dust contained in its cylinder. The dust is emitted from the back of the wing and Amarant can send dust from only to one wing if he desires. Most of this is a combination of gravity and wind dust which allows for Amarant’s flight but it contains enough of the other major dust types for 10 uses itself or add 20 uses to either the sword or armour. Amarant is reluctant to draw on the dust The Wings of the Mountain uses for fuel for offence and would rather right without dust than reduce his mobility. 10 uses equals around 30 minutes of flight in normal conditions.

History: Created for Amarant personally when he created the Atlas Specialists and ensured he would reduce the impact of inter-kingdom regulation has on the weapon manufacturing businesses in Atlas. Taking advantage of experimental nerve grafting technology the Wings of the Mountain are a marvel of technology and even to this day is matched only by the gear other Atlas Specialists are using. Despite the possibility for an upgrade Amarant has grown accustomed to this Mark of the technology and since departing military life has seen little need to remain ahead of the curve technologically.

Weapon 3

Name: The Tundric Guard

Primary Form: Highly modified Altesian light armour the Tundric Guard is as much another weapon as it is Amarant’s last line of defence. The already light armour plates have been made hollow and filled with entwining funnels of foam and dust. Golden trim and the Atlas insignia emblazoned on his chest and shoulders mark Amarant clearly even if the wings didn’t already do that. The armour plates interlock providing maximum protection while not infringing on mobility. It’s better than bare skin but the Tundric Guard will not hold up to sustained punishment from even medium sized Grimm let alone major threats.

Dust Functions: Like the First day of Winter and the Wings of the Mountain the Tundric Guard contains it’s own reservoir of dust but it also contains a large amount of foam in case of armour breaches. This foam fulfils the double purpose of preventing dust igniting if a dust funnel is breached when the armour is as well as providing a redundant last line of defence. This foam, and the dust, can be emitted through various vents all along the armour. Most plates have at least three vents but hands, forearms and lower legs have the most.

History: The Tundric Guard has been with Amarant since he was a huntsman-in-training in one way or another. Undergoing multiple and frequent upgrades or remodelling when deployed in different environments. Not concerned with the Theseus's ship implications with his armour Amarant finds himself the least passionate about this addition to his arsenal. He still keeps it cleaned and ready go despite his advanced age like any good Altesian. Perhaps it’s because he has never had to rely on its plates or simply being resources spent of defence still annoys Amarant the Tundric Guard remains a valuable addition to his armoury.

8
Beacon Academy / Recovery(Open)
« on: August 29, 2017, 09:59:48 PM »
It had been a few weeks after the Switcheroo fights in which, amongst other things, Calen was beaten to a bloodied pulp. It took serveral operations for all the bone fragments to be retrieved from inside his chest and reconstruct his ribs and knee. Finally Calen was going to start the long and painful process of physical rehabilitation. Aura and Diana's assistance rapidly increased his healing he would need to start moving soon to ensure everything healed where it's supposed to. It would be pure agony but what was truly irritating Calen was the hospital food. Having far more choice words for the bland and unappetising food than the relentless surgeries Calen had already managed to get himself quite the reputation among the hospital staff.

The nurses had left after a particularly bad morning session from Calen finishing with him being moved to the recovery section. Any pretence or mask of control had long since shattered leaving a hurt and bitter boy. He knew it wasn't their fault, it was only his own, but it still felt so good to rage self-righteously even if everyone knew how empty his words were. Taking a few deep breaths Calen settled himself into his routine. Playing back the fight with Gray Calen carefully analysed his mistakes mistakes in the fight and hypothesised solutions. After finding the same as the last 26 times he did this exercise Calen started on his school work. Weeks of being unable to attend classes would have normally put a student behind but for Calen working independently meant he could finally stretch him mental legs. Full months ahead of prescribed content Calen simply kept pushing forward because there was nothing else to do.

Well. Calen thought to himself wriggling his toes. If I'm supposed to start physical recovery might as well start walking. As such Calen swung his body round, knocking his school materials all over the place, and gingerly placed his feat on the ground. The infuriating pins and needles which had been plaguing him since the fight started to fade as his naked feet touched the cold floor. Taking confidence Calen stood, placing all his weight on his good leg, and besides a little light headedness he was fine. All was going well until Calen put any weight on the limb. Pain shot through his leg causing Calen to almost buckle on to the ground. Instead taking in another few deep breathes as he collapsed back on the bed.

Desperately trying to hold his screams in Calen tried to distract himself by looking at the other patients in the recovery ward. Beacon didn't get as many injured as Calen had expected but there was always a few around and more out getting tests. Whatever state Calen was in there was no way he was going to be screaming in pain in front of other unless a limb was being removed. Settling down Calen hid his now throbbing knee under the covers and retrieved the closest text book. Mentally preparing himself for the earful his physiotherapist when they saw the results of that stunt.

Throwing the book away, only narrowly missing one of the other beds, Calen called out 'So what do you guys do for run around here? Are there weekly dances? or maybe movie nights?' Sarcasm dripped off Calen's words as he searched for someone to vent against before his thoughts had too much time with him on their own.

9
WiP Characters / Atlas Headmaster, Amarant Lovis. (Warning Long)
« on: August 24, 2017, 01:54:12 AM »
So I got permission to build the Atlas Headmaster. Because this is going to be a NPC used by other people or at least in other peoples treads I would really like other people’s opinions on what they think the character should be or different possible ways of getting the same character traits across.

Also given current political strife in America some of the history might seem a bit insensitive. Just as a reminder nothing is set in stone.

CHARACTER

Name: Amarant Lovis

Age: 70, Born 29th of Amare

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol:
Spoiler: show


Occupation: Atlas Headmaster

Appearance: 6’4 tall and, with the exceptions of salt-and-pepper hair and a few wrinkles, Amarant shows little signs of age. His mind and body are kept in perfect shape and the students of Atlas often see their headmaster training with even full-fledged hunters struggling to keep up. Cold blue eyes usually covered by polarised sunglasses, an unflinching stare and a commanding voice adds legions to Amarant’s natural intimidating aura making him an imposing force even without his combat expertise. Skin free of tattoos or scars, one could be forgiven for thinking Amarant was a retired bodybuilder if they didn’t know him but he simply is, or was, that good.

Rarely seen out of his dress uniform, except when exercising, Amarant regulates his multiple medals to storage and instead only displays his rank and Atlas Insignia. In the rare case he is out of that uniform, his clothing is always formal, even his exercise uniform is high tech and professional. The armour he used to wear in combat appears to be standard Atlas light armour with a whole host of modifications. In his combat armour what stands out most is the trio of wings sprouting from his back, designed with heroic leadership in mind the emotional impact of being charged by Amarant has broken as many lines as his physical impact.

History: Amarant Lovis has a long, hard but mostly successful life so far in service of the Atlesian Kingdom. Born ten years after the then-Mantelen and Mistrali defeat Amarant was born into a Kingdom on the edge of ruin. Being on the losing side of the war had bankrupted their economy and the hate and fear of returning soldiers was only attracting more Grimm. The Academies had been established yes but it was going to take time for their graduates to be able to fully protect Solitas’ harsh tundra. Still the cold breeds proud people and they persisted. Lead at the time by Alexandria Sokolov, a veteran of the Greyed War, who lead a rebirth of then-Mantle through revolutionising the countries industry, government and most importantly military. Bringing their military might back to pre-Greyed War strength in a matter of decades. This was the atmosphere where Amarant was raised, a devout servant to a kingdom which valued strength, ingenuity and endurance in equal measure.

As a huntsman-in-training Amarant had already made a name for himself as an expert warrior even bring down a rogue Atlas huntsman, with the aid of his team, while still a student. More impressively he did it without drawing attention from the international community who were growing very suspicious of then-Mantle’s militarisation. His team ACCE run rampant through the Vytal festival through all four years of their time at the academy and in an unprecedented achievement took out the singles, doubles and team brackets. Amarant formed a tight bond with his teammates which has lasted even to this day with every member a part of the Academies staff in one way or another. It was also at the academy where Amarant started to learn under Alexandria herself who had taken up the position of headmistress after the kingdom had settled down. She had an enormous influence on Amarant, she took him under her wing and soon her highly disciplined and organised command style started to be heavily influence his own.

The only blotch on his record is the Faunus Revolution. With several of their factories attacked many in Atlas saw this ‘so-called-revolution’ as an attack against them by militants or worse foreign powers. As such many from Atlas joined to volunteer armies resisting the revolution lead by the ageing Alexandria Sokolov, Amarant and his team followed. In the beginning, there was little animosity against their Faunus opponents but as the war dragged on and thousands died that civility evaporated. Amarant however started to more and more respect his foe. Lacking in the technological superiority of the volunteer Altesian armies they made do with evasive tactics, never attacking full on unless a unit’s supplies had been cut and their leader taken out. Alexandra may have written the book on Atlas military strategy and turned them into the apex fighting force on Remnant but only when all the gears were working in unison. As such things went from bad to worse for Amarant and his allies and despite scoring several minor victories the volunteer forces were defeated at Fort Castle. Alexandra herself was killed in the fighting and without her leadership the army quickly vanished and the revolution was declared a success.

When his team and many Atlas forces were lost in the aftermath of the revolution it was Amarant who gathered them and put them to use. The hatred and despair were channelled into productive measures targeting Grimm nests or bandit tribes to ensure Atlas would never be weak like it was after the Greyed War. Putting aside the loss of his mentor and many friends was difficult and caused a lot of people to question the value Amarant placed in them. And in a way, they were right to. Amarant may have fought in the trenches alongside them but to him, even his team, where weapons made to be used. This did not make him wastefully however and over time Amarant managed to convince many to see things his way although he still has fierce arguments with his team mates to this day.

Regardless of how much good this roving band doing it was not a sustainable operation. Atlas had proven twice now that their military could not be trusted and as such sanctions where put in place limiting it’s numbers. It was here that Amarant floated the idea of the Atlas Specialists. The line infantry could be retrained but fighters with hunter-level skill needed a support network and meaning in their lives. The specialist program could provide them that and more importantly for the board of generals it allowed Atlas to keep it’s most powerful fighters and could even start expanding when automated droids started to become more common while still abiding by the international regulations. For Amarant however, it wasn’t about the prestige of the Atlas military it was about providing support for his allies as well as filling the gap in Alexandria’s strategies. The value of individual, highly trained operatives working in conjunction with the entire might of the Atlesian military could not be overestimated and under Amarant’s guidance it’s deployment became an art form.

Amarant then served two decades in the newly formed Atlas Specialists, eventually taking command of the unit and quickly became the public face for this new initiative. The other Kingdoms clearly saw what Atlas was trying to do, getting around their sanctions, but there wasn’t enough political will to force anything with Mistral dragging it’s heels. With this semi-acceptance the Atlas Specialists forged themselves a reputation to match those of hunters, at least in their home land. Even Faunus started to want to join the organisation. Originally Amarant was sceptical; it was one thing to respect these people as fighters, it’s another completely to call them brother and sister. The White Fang was also on the rise and radical elements were already attacking Atlas facilities, which the Specialists were proving themselves capable at defeating, but also using the facilities like Atlas academy itself to train their operatives. Still Amarant decided to admit a single Faunus, more as a political move to show how far the Atlas military had come.

Initially only allowed on the most simply missions the Faunus proved himself over and over again to the point even veterans of the revolutionary war begrudgingly started to accept him. It was here, late in life, where Amarant discovered his true great passion in teaching others. Amarant took the Faunus under his wing just as Alexandria took him all those years ago and moulded him into one of the finest weapons in his arsenal. Blessed with a worthy successor Amarant started to think about the next stage of his life, he was getting old, ‘old, slow and dumb’ he would joke and the extended run of peace seemed to suggest he would better serve as in a support role. As such he decided to resign from his position as commander of the Specialists, instating his protegee before so, then walked into the academy and applied for a job. The teachers at Atlas Academy where surprised to say the least by Amarant quickly proved himself as capable off the battlefield as he was on in.

It became apparent that although Amarant was capable of bring out the best of individuals under his direct tutelage he struggled with larger classes. His focus on perfection lead him to often pace his lessons around the brightest in the class rather than the average creating some extremely capably hunters, or more likely Specialists, but also pushed many out of the academy as they simply fell behind. Amarant’s colleagues brought this up to him but try as he might he simply couldn’t evolve his teaching technique. As such he was moved to a more specialist role, providing final stage training to those who had already proven themselves. Amarant developed this program into an official system by the time the Atlas headmaster stepped down and as such Amarant was considered the likely replacement. This was due more to his international presence and fame rather than teaching experience but he still had the full support of the teaching staff.

Amarant has only served as headmaster for four years during which he has institutionalised his specialist training regime and ramped up the militarisation of it’s general training. Large focus is put in maintaining teams after graduation even if they don’t go into the Specialists with military protocol drilled in as soon as students enter the gate. Amarant is aware how this looks to the outside world and his argument that it generates superior fighters would be ignored even though it’s his genuine belief. As such Amarant has spent a lot of time on the international stage trying to convince the world of his way of doing things. He has even made trips to Menagerie, a field day for the press, but it was only the start of increased direct investment by Atlas into the Faunus state in a perhaps overly optimistic attempt to unite the two peoples. Even if the diplomatic angle fails these ventures are still profitable for Atlas businesses and allows them to get their claws into Menageries developing economy.
 
Personality: A calm and collected individual Amarant approaches everything in life like a campaign and he is the general. Polite and respectful even towards his enemies Amarant sees everyone in Atlas, himself included, as a weapon to be used against the Kingdom’s enemies, this can make him seem manipulative and technically he is but everything he does is in service to his people. Never one to act rashly Amarant often held back his assaults until he had as much information as possible and could devastate his opposition in a single blow. Again, life has immense value to him but that value is calculable and although Amarant often took the field himself he also knew when to cut his losses. Possessing a dry wit Amarant jokes surprisingly often but due to his intimidating presence and professional demeanour they are often missed.

Art and language are Amarant’s personal past times. He speaks over a dozen languages, some which are only spoken by a handful of academics in today’s mostly mono-language society. A meaningless skill mostly it still speaks to Amarant desire to understand the world he inhabits and how to most exploit it for the benefit of Atlas. Because of his semblance Amarant gets a lot out of art, knowing why the artist makes every brush stroke adds a huge amount of meaning to even the most simplistic artwork. There is also a practical function, artists are products of their times and culture with even the most divergent a product of their homeland. As such Amarant maintains a steadily expanding collection pieces from across the globe, each giving him an insight into their home unique to them.

Amarant has had a long and bloody history with Faunus, earlier in his life with the revolution and more recently with the terrorist White Fang. Despite all this Amarant has never been able to hate them, even when his team mates fell into that trap, as when confronted by the most horrific acts Amarant’s semblance showed him why and what drove people to commit such crimes. That doesn’t mean he has a loving relationship with remnant's second species, never being able to properly mourn the death of his mentor has left psychological scars which will probably never heal. This combined with rising tension with the White Fang has left Amarant is highly sceptical of most Faunus until they earn his trust, a difficult feat in itself, after which they are rewarded with being another, slightly political, weapon in his arsenal.

As for personal relationships Amarant tries as hard as he can to keep it separate from his professional life, a habit he picked up while fighting White Fang insurgents. He is still a target but has a lot more security for both himself and his loved ones. All the members of ACCE are still alive and fulfil various roles at Atlas Academy in their own right, it would be impractical and pointless to hide that they are still on friendly terms despite want maybe said when they drink. As for love, rumours abound about hidden meet ups on battlefields or other romanticised rubbish but the truth is Amarant has been married to the job since before the revolution and it’s demands have only grown since. Other than that Amarant keeps on friendly terms with many of his Specialists as well as a few international figures. There is no doubt that he is a controversial figure but his calm and apparently open demeanour make him difficult to hate if you have regular interactions with the man.

A journalist once called him a Machiavellian Centaur and although Amarant laughed the comment off it does have some merit. Although he is no longer officially a member of the military, he does retain his rank as a symbolic gesture, even his most calm requests possibly carry serious threats of force behind them. Mastering the fusion between being loved and feared just as the centaur fused man and animal has always been a reality of Amarant’s command style. But in the end this is just another avenue of attack and Amarant combines fear, love and rational pleas just has he combines the three arms of the military to achieve his aims.

Aura and Semblance: As one would expect from a veteran warrior of the highest calibre Amarant has an enormous pool of aura reserves to draw on. Preferring, like in all things, to use his resources offensively and as such is more skilled at augmenting his attacks or created shock waves than defending or healing himself. It’s colour is Navy Blue but that colour leaches out of it the more Amarant uses his abilities leaving it a just before it bursts. harsh white.

As for his semblance, epitomising his analytical nature, Amarant is capable of understand why a choice is made with a glance. This include non-living things like artwork or plant growth as well as unnatural things like Grimm or robotics. He only understands why the studied action takes place not every minor activity the individual is undergoing, such would result in an information overload. Nor can he study more than one action at a time. Still this enormously powerful predictive tool makes Amarant almost unbeatable in one on one combat if he can match his opponents raw physical abilities. Strategist’s Eye as he calls it takes very little of Amarant’s reserves to deploy but Amarant considers it invasive to others privacy to keep it constantly active. Still Amarant does hesitate to use it when he is confronted with something unusual or unexplained, privacy comes secondary to safety in his mind. When in use his eyes slightly glow the same colour as his aura but it’s faint and hard to see unless you know what to look for. As for people who know exactly what his semblance is Amarant has been quite lucky and managed to keep the exact specifics limited exclusive to his team. The general idea, being some sort of enhanced analysis based semblance, is an open secret in the Atlas military.

Combat Behaviour: In his youth Amarant was one of the greatest warriors Atlas had to offer. Specialised in rabid strikes and vicious counterattacks Amarant made his fame in using his enemies strengthens against them. As he has gotten older his speed has faded somewhat, particularly the speed of his sword, but luckily his wings are as fast as ever. Linked as part of his armour these bladed wings are linked to Amarant’s nervous system through experimental surgery and as such hasn’t slowed down as he aged. These four blades can set up a furious pace of blows, three of which are mechanically augmented. This combined with Amarant’s predictive abilities makes this assault extremely difficult to resist. Even without his semblance having four angles of assault plus the dust vents in his armour allow him to deal with hoards effectively.

There is a risk using his wings as offensive weapons however, the damage of even one can greatly reduce his mobility. Mobility adds a large amount of adaptability to Amarant’s style and this hasn’t changed as he aged. Lacking some of the overwhelming strength of other hunters Amarant needs that mobility to get through defences to bring his razor edges to bare. The three wings also give him a seemingly erratic flight pattern which makes him hard to hit at range. An advantageous ability given his limited range options and habit of making a target out of himself. The most effective way to bring Amarant down would be surprise, he can fly with his own wings so overwhelming physical assault or explosives would be the best bet. Mental trickery would also be effective but due to his analytical prowess even without his semblance Amarant his capable of seeing through most illusions. Amarant does also carry a large amount of dust on his person and although his armour has precautions against it exploding they aren’t fail-safe.

Although not specifically part of his combat behaviour it is worth noting that Amarant makes a large effort to gather as much information on anyone who could be a threat. This includes his own Atlas students as well as notable hunters-in-training across the globe. Amarant’s uncanny perceptive abilities have created a rumour that Atlas Academy or at least the students are under constant surveillance, again this is mostly true although Amarant does try to ensure at least some privacy to his students. This concept of knowledge is power has caused Amarant to deploy these surveillance devices almost everywhere he goes. This has left all academies and several foreign military bases bugged and feeding Intel to Atlas.

WEAPONS

Weapon 1

Name: First day of Winter

Primary Form: A standard Zweihander, 6’(1.8m) and 9.5lbs(4kg), complete with parrying hooks and a wide curved upwards cross guard depicting two mechanical arms. The metal is well-wrought and several names are carved along the blade of the weapon. The blade also possessing a tiny computer system only having the capacity to adjust the cross guard to grab weapons being parried and record Amarant’s fights with a 360 degree camera so he can learn from them later.

Secondary Form: The First day of Winter collapses into a forth of it’s size and the cross guards fold in. The makes the weapon far more easy to transport over long distances or while flying.

Dust Functions: The sword has it’s reservoir of dust but can connect to Amarant’s armour to either use the armour’s reservoir or add to it. The First day of Winter has a small reserve, enough for three uses, of all major forms of dust. Most of these manifest like fire, ice or electric as blasts from the tip while others like gravity dust can repulse or attract objects to the weapon.

History: Original Alexandria Sokolov’s weapon and Amarant took it after leading a counter attack to reclaim her body after their defeat at Fort Castle. The weapon has remained mostly the same since it was wielded by his mentor except for two major aspects. For one the names of friends how have fallen in battle are carved into the blade. An emotional weak point for Amarant the weapon is one of the few things that can consistently force illogical actions. The second major change is a small computer system was added to the weapon.

Weapon 2

Name: The Wings of the Mountain

Primary Form: A set of three wings which sprout from a large cylinder on his back. The cylinder fits snug into his armour plates and starts at the back of his neck and goes ¾ down his back. At the base of Amarant’s neck is the opening to his spinal socket and as such surrounded by thick armour plates. The wings themselves are around 1.5m, 5’, from tip to bend or around 5m fully extended. The whole set up weighs around 20kg, 44lbs, which is a lot for an old man to carry. Luckily while attached to him, and particularly in the air, it feels a lot lighter but it isn’t something that Amarant is going to bring out unless he knows there is going to be a fight. With a max speed well below supersonic and only with a couple hours of flight time The Wings of the Mountain are not a transporting device and instead epitomise Amarant’s reliance on technology, preference for fast paced combat and heroic leadership.

Dust Functions: The Wings of the Mountain has the same dust functions as The First Day of Winter, the sword, except it has a much larger supply of dust contained in its cylinder. The dust is emitted from the back of the wing and Amarant can send dust from only to one wing if he desires. Most of this is a combination of gravity and wind dust which allows for Amarant’s flight but it contains enough of the other major dust types for 10 uses itself or add 20 uses to either the sword or armour. Amarant is reluctant to draw on the dust The Wings of the Mountain uses for fuel for offence and would rather right without dust than reduce his mobility. 10 uses equals around 30 minutes of flight in normal conditions.

History: Created for Amarant personally when he created the Atlas Specialists and ensured he would reduce the impact of inter-kingdom regulation has on the weapon manufacturing businesses in Atlas. Taking advantage of experimental nerve grafting technology the Wings of the Mountain are a marvel of technology and even to this day is matched only by the gear other Atlas Specialists are using. Despite the possibility for an upgrade Amarant has grown accustomed to this Mark of the technology and since departing military life has seen little need to remain ahead of the curve technologically.

Weapon 3

Name: The Tundric Guard

Primary Form: Highly modified Altesian light armour the Tundric Guard is as much another weapon as it is Amarant’s last line of defence. The already light armour plates have been made hollow and filled with entwining funnels of foam and dust. Golden trim and the Atlas insignia emblazoned on his chest and shoulders mark Amarant clearly even if the wings didn’t already do that. The armour plates interlock providing maximum protection while not infringing on mobility. It’s better than bare skin but the Tundric Guard will not hold up to sustained punishment from even medium sized Grimm let alone major threats.

Dust Functions: Like the First day of Winter and the Wings of the Mountain the Tundric Guard contains it’s own reservoir of dust but it also contains a large amount of foam in case of armour breaches. This foam fulfils the double purpose of preventing dust igniting if a dust funnel is breached when the armour is as well as providing a redundant last line of defence. This foam, and the dust, can be emitted through various vents all along the armour. Most plates have at least three vents but hands, forearms and lower legs have the most.

History: The Tundric Guard has been with Amarant since he was a huntsman-in-training in one way or another. Undergoing multiple and frequent upgrades or remodelling when deployed in different environments. Not concerned with the Theseus's ship implications with his armour Amarant finds himself the least passionate about this addition to his arsenal. He still keeps it cleaned and ready go despite his advanced age like any good Altesian. Perhaps it’s because he has never had to rely on its plates or simply being resources spent of defence still annoys Amarant the Tundric Guard remains a valuable addition to his armoury.

10
Approved Characters / Saffron de Cortez
« on: April 24, 2017, 08:39:16 AM »
CHARACTER

Name: Saffron de Cortez

Age: 20

Species and Gender: Female Echidna Faunus

Symbol: A yellow Ichthys(Christian fish symbol) diagonally placed with the head facing the top right crossed by a white halberd, again diagonally placed, with its head in the top left corner on a black background.

Occupation: 3rd year Atlas academy student

Appearance: Standing just under 1.8m/6’ Saffron is a tall, well-built young woman weighing 75kg/165lb. Possessing a tanned skin from years under the hot desert sun of Menagerie and Vacuo, Saffron flaunts her muscular physique in casual life with colourful saris or kimonos. They are modified with fire dust acrylics to protect against Atlas’s arctic climate. Her school uniform remains unmodified however as Saffron likes the militaristic precision. Her combat outfit is a fusion of these two mentalities of beauty and practicality with an imposing set of full plate armour, well made with detailed filigree and a tabard portraying the various myths of Remnant.

Saffron has a soft and expressive face with deep blue almost violet eyes framed by a thick red mane of hair reaching half way down her back. Outside school her hair is normally worn down but otherwise Saffron folds it up into a tight bun. Spines lie camouflaged within Saffron’s hair, unperturbed they look like strange yellow streaks. When she becomes agitated they extend forming an almost avian crest, this means that she can’t wear her hair up in combat. Saffron also wears a fair amount of makeup, brown mauve lipstick, mascara and a little bronzer, often touching it up out of habit during quite moments or to give herself time to think.

Saffron’s second Faunus trait is a small number of electro-sensors within her nose. Even if she did live underwater these would provide little advantage due to her few receptors but still Saffron can notice small changes in density if she is familiar with the object. Saffron holds herself in standard military flat back posture even in casual settings and speaks in a soft but clear tone with mishmash of pronunciations accenting different words from where she learnt them in her travels.

History: Saffron was born from a star crossed love story between a Faunus explorer and an Atlas Specialist serving as the protective detail for the Atlesian consulate in Menagerie. The relationship didn’t even last long enough for Saffron to be born as both realised they couldn’t change the other. This lead to a wild but mostly happy childhood with Saffron bouncing between her father, Vasco da Cortes, and his endless exploration of Remnant and her mother’s, Elizabeth Artemyeva, home of Atlas as Elizabeth herself was often on missions. Both parents remarried but Saffron was never made to feel unwanted even though she put considerable strain on both her parent’s professions.

Her father was a hands-on teacher, travelling around world quizzing his only child on geography and history in the locations it happened before moving on to Grimm studies, fighting and politics. Vasco, like many Faunus was proud of his heritage and Saffron inherited that pride after travelling to several hidden Faunus villages scattered about Remnant as well as learning about their victories in the Faunus revolution.

Her time with her mother was much more text book revolving around classes in early learning centres and school. Saffron liked the freedom her father provided but there was something in the military precision of Atlas which quickly enchanted her. That isn’t to say Atlas was equally enchanted with her and Saffron quickly learnt how much anti-Faunus resentment still existed. Taunts and verbal abuse became a daily occurrence and Saffron took it very poorly. Her mother was away too much to be much stability and even if she was Saffron would not want bring up what she perceived as her own failures. These experiences weren’t enough to darken Saffron’s outlook but it did keep her idealism in check.

When what started as pranks and taunts turned harsher Saffron snapped. She fought back keeping her body low and tight like her father taught her and delivered a serious uppercut to the girl who was standing over her. The blow hit home, a lucky strike hitting square on her jaw landing Saffron’s attacker on her ass and sending her friends into a rage. It took over an hour for Saffron to limp home after that because she was bleeding heavily, particularly on her head where most of her quills had been torn out. Per chance her mother who had hoped to surprise her by coming home early found the house empty and Saffron staggering in after dark. Needless to say, Elizabeth was distraught but Saffron still wouldn’t reveal the names of those who attacked her. Refusing to become like her abusers Saffron didn’t use her experiences as an excuse to cut off an entire race but it still taught her the danger of standing up for oneself as well as it’s necessity.

Spending more time with her father after that incident he started pushing Saffron’s limits meaning more dangerous expeditions. Although Saffron did occasionally return to Atlas she only got out of the house when she snuck out and her mother brought in Atlas instructors who owed her favours to try to show her a better side of humanity as well as furthering her education. Both were talking about her future and Atlas’s lower level combat academy was accepting students, although Saffron wasn’t a genius she was determined and had learnt under some of the best teachers her parents could find so they were confident she could get in. But it wasn’t to be, her mental scars remained but she used the excuses of her father having infected her with wanderlust and there was always something new to explore.

The four intervening years massively changed Saffron perspective as the constant Grimm fights and now battles with bandits or the White Fang quickly caused her realise how much there was still wrong with the world. Her father and his loose band of merry men were doing more than most but even they were barely holding villages let alone expanding into the wilderness. Only Kingdoms where doing that and none had done so more successfully than Atlas. Despite the pain it had caused her Saffron wanted to be part of this expansion of civilisation, fighting alongside her mother as guardians of the new world. This strange mix of militarism and idealism resulted in a more than a few teasing remarks from Saffron’s father and his more freeform friends but they understood her reasoning and sent her back with their blessings.

Now old enough to join Atlas academy proper Saffron charged forward getting in because of her high scores and a recommendation from an Atlas Specialist, her mother, and settled in. Enjoying the military culture as much as she thought she would Saffron still had to deal with the same anti-Faunus culture that she did when she was a child. Constantly asked to spar and brutally insulted when she refused Saffron often fought three or even four times more a week than the average Atlas student. She lost the majority of them due to exhaustion and her opponents working together to work out the flaws of her fighting style to show how a Faunus didn’t belong in Atlas but she was slowly getting better.

Near the tail end of the first year, with the help of her mother, Saffron managed to adapt her fighting style into a more confusing form by fusing several styles she had learnt on her travels together allowing her adapt to most situations and also making her almost impossible to plan against. This, combined with a lucky streak of victories at the beginning of the second year gave Saffron some breathing room to reach out and connect with her fellow students. Now in her third year Saffron is treated almost like another student minus the theft of weapons/armour/school supplies/homework/dust, verbal abuse, denial of dust, getting asked by security why she is on a campus for hunters in training and being on the wrong side of every teacher in the school.

Personality: Saffron dreams of being the perfect soldier but she isn’t there yet. Good-natured because of, rather than despite, everything Saffron has been through she works well in a team but remains serious enough to subconsciously follow military courtesy and has the confidence to act on her instincts even as the dust starts flying. This confidence does overwhelm Saffron at times particularly when her team mates are in trouble or people manage to get through her substantially think skin. Saffron wouldn’t call this arrogance instead saying she simply has a clearly defined sense of right and wrong. Most often this skin is broken with comments about her mother but Saffron can usually control herself until they get to an arena or at least somewhere there are no teachers nearby.

A passionate love for music colours most of her free time. Saffron learnt the guitar from her father and the piano from her mother and quickly developed an impressive talent for both instruments. Her wall at Atlas is covered in different instruments which she has picked up in her travels which she can all play to varying degrees and still receives more from her parents as gifts. She cares them all greatly but freely parts with them if others show interest. The only exception is an old twelve string guitar, a relic from long ago before the Faunus won their freedom, given to Saffron by her father. Despite this talent all of Atlas’s bands were strangely full whenever Saffron applied, even the ones which had to close because too few participated. Any other spare time Saffron has outside of school is dedicated to dedicated to advanced courses where she is learning to be a pilot and working alongside activists for Faunus equality.

Not particularly smart Saffron has a very strict study ethic which allows her to keep up with her studies even if it takes longer than most students. Very adaptive Saffron has a lot of experience being in odd situations and is capable of rapidly cycling through solutions to choose the best tool to solve her current problems. Other than that Saffron is an open book, enjoying talking about her past and learning about other peoples. Even taking most taunts thrown her way in her stride as Saffron quickly learnt that success is the best type of revenge although she makes sure to get some quips in for good measure.

Treating others as she wishes to be treated, as an individual, Saffron gives everyone a fair chance and is the first to offer help. Despite her positive outlook Saffron is very slow to forgive once her trust has been violated. She has a sense of humour, there being few practical jokes which her father hasn’t played on her, but will give clear warnings if something is starting to get to her. These are given with deceptive confidence because of her quite voice meaning many miss these warnings or ignore them entirely.

Aura and Semblance: Saffron’s aura is a soft brown is highly trained, particularly her danger sense which combined with her Faunus senses stretches far further than most. Other than that, Saffron’s aura is quite average, her skill only just making up for her limited aura pool.

Saffron’s semblance is Momentum Transfer which allows her to absorb the momentum from attacks she endures and using it to empower her own attacks. Having less of an effect of bladed weapons and none on energy based attacks it is far more useful against Grimm than other people. The cost to Saffron’s fatigue of absorbing momentum is equal to the damage the attack would normally do. It can never transfer more than ¾ of the attack and can only transfer what is absorbed which is modified again by the type of attack. There is no additional cost in transferring the momentum to Saffron’s personal attacks however late in her second year she started to develop the second level of the ability and was now able to transfer to an object far away from her. She can use this to boost her or her allies ranged attacks or otherwise control objects. Saffron can’t affect anything with an aura with this ability other than herself. Transferring at range is only half as effective and costs that much extra as fatigue. Saffron can hold only momentum for a few seconds before it is wasted. The first level of Saffron’s semblance is common knowledge around the academy although she has managed to keep the second level a secret outside her team for now.

Combat Behaviour: Surprisingly fast with her hands considering her armour Saffron can lay down a flurry of vicious hatchet strikes in a blink of an eye driving back even the most foolhardy attacker. She isn’t so fast on her feat however and therefore often needs help actually getting to grips with her enemy. Taking moves from all over Remnant Saffron fits into a dozen different schools and none of them makes her an unpredictable and adaptable foe but she lacks the expertise others have when they have dedicated themselves to a single style. This means that unless she finds a way to take advantage of said adaptability Saffron will often lose out in a straight up brawl.

Saffron’s quad barrelled shotguns provide her range accompaniment and are capable of unleashing a steady stream of fire or a spectacular barrage if fired all at once. They are still fairly short ranged weapons as such Saffron will often use one or two rounds as a speed boost to get herself into position before bring the hurt with her axes. If she is unable to close the gap Saffron has one last trick to distract her enemy long enough to advance up the field. Her shotguns are still active when her hatchets are in their boomerang form allowing for an unpredictable, if hard to aim, volley. This is controlled by a console carried on Saffron’s left wrist which also contains a communication device and basic survival equipment(GPS, compass, maps, summary or local fauna/flora, ect).

The area effect of her shotguns and speed of her hatchets makes Saffron well suited for hoard combat as she is quickly able to move on from foe to foe like an unstoppable force of nature. She struggles more with 1v1 fights as with enough care much of the danger Saffron poses can be disarmed by keeping distance and keeping an eye on her weapons. In a team, however is where Saffron really shines acting as a strong, hard to shift anchor while the rest of the team who can actually move take advantage of the flanks or simply corral them into the meat grinder.

Her semblance helps Saffron make up for her average aura on both offensive and defensive levels but takes time to set up and has to be utilised quickly or is lost. Saffron’s ability to transfer momentum to objects away from her adds another layer of unpredictability to her fighting style but uses a large amount of resources. Usually this is used more to help control her boomerangs and to line up her remote shots.

WEAPON

Name: Black Blizzard

Primary Form: Set of four black hatchets with a 30cm/1’ long handle and four shotgun barrels embedded in the top of each weapon. The trigger is just above the handle covered by a guard. The shotgun is reloaded similarly to a double barrel shotgun but instead the handle breaks off revealing the loading port.

Secondary Form: The axe head retracts and the haft bends turning the weapon into a boomerang. The shotguns are still active but can only be fired remotely with the use of radio waves from Saffron’s console on her left wrist.

Dust Functions: Black Blizzard can utilise any type of dust rounds but Saffron prefers air or ice dust because they boost her own mobility and reduce her enemies.

History: A month long conversation with her parents resulted in the detailed plans which would become Black Blizzard. Unlike either parent's weapons it represented one of the first major expressions of true independence Saffron showed and they couldn’t be happier.

11
WiP Characters / Got almost everything minus a name and sembalence.
« on: April 18, 2017, 08:35:29 AM »
CHARACTER

Name: [name]

Age: 20

Species and Gender: Female Echidna Faunus

Symbol: A yellow Ichthys(Christian fish symbol) diagonally placed with the head facing the top right crossed by a white halberd, again diagonally placed, with it’s head in the top left corner on a black background.

Occupation: 3rd year Atlas academy student

Appearance: Standing just under 1.8m/6’ [name] is a tall, well-built young woman weighing 75kg/165lb. Possessing a tanned skin from years under the hot desert sun of Menagerie and Vacuo [name] likes to flaunt her muscular form in casual life with colourful saris or kimonos. They are modified with fire dust acrylics to protect against Atlas’s artic climate. Her school uniform remains unmodified however as [name] doesn’t to ruin it’s militaristic precision. Her combat outfit is a fusion of these two mentalities of beauty and practicality with an imposing set of full plate armour, well made with detailed filigree and a tabard portraying the various myths of Remnant.

[name] has a soft and expressive face with deep blue almost violet eyes framed by a thick red mane of hair reaching half way down her back. Outside school her hair is normally worn down but otherwise [name] folds it up into a tight bun. Spines lie camouflaged within [name]’s hair, unperturbed they look like strange yellow streaks. When she becomes agitated they extend forming an almost avian crest, meaning she can’t wear her hair up in combat. [name] also wears a fair amount of makeup, red lipstick, mascara and a little blush, often touching it up out of habit during quite moments or to give herself time to think.

[name]’s second Faunus trait is a small amount of electrosensors within her nose. Even if she did live underwater these would provide little advantage due to her few receptors but still [name] can notice small changes in density if she is familiar with the object. [name] holds herself in standard military flat back posture even in casual settings and speaks in a soft but clear tone with mishmash of pronunciations accenting different words from where she learnt them in her travels.

History: [name] was born from a star crossed love story between a Menagerie explorer and an Atlas Specialist serving as the protective detail for the Atlesian consulate in Menagerie. The relationship didn’t even last long enough for [name] to be born as both realised they couldn’t change the other. This lead to a wild but happy childhood with [name] bouncing between her father, Vasco da Cortes, and his endless exploration of Remnant and her mother’s, Elizabeth Artemyeva, home of Atlas as Elizabeth herself was often on missions. Both parents remarried but [name] was never made to feel unwanted even though she put considerable strain on both her parent’s professions.

Her father was a hands-on teacher, travelling around world quizzing his only child on geography and history in the locations it happened before moving on to Grimm studies, fighting and politics. Vasco, like many Faunus, was proud of his heritage and [name] inherited that pride after travelling to several hidden Faunus villages scattered about Remnant as well as learning about their victories in the Faunus revolution.

Her time with her mother was much more text book revolving around classes in early learning centres and school. [name] liked the freedom her father provided but there was something in the military precision of Atlas which quickly enchanted her. That isn’t to say Atlas was equally enchanted with her and [name] quickly learnt how much anti-Fanus resentment still existed. Although not as quickly as her one-time bullies found out that behind the quite voice was a swift right hook and a strong jaw. These altercations weren’t enough to darken her outlook but it did keep her idealism in check.

As [name] grew older her father started taking her on more dangerous expeditions and her mother was bring in Atlas instructors who owed her favours and both where talking about her future. Atlas’s lower level combat academy was accepting students and although [name] wasn’t a genius she was determined and had learnt under some of the best teachers her parents could find so they were confident she could get in. But it wasn’t to be, [name]’s father had infected her with wanderlust and there was always something new to explore.

Over the four years [name] had marked change in perspective from the constant grimm fights and now battles with bandits or the White Fang quickly made her realise how much there was still wrong with the world. Her father and his loose band of merry men were doing more than most but even they were barely holding villages let alone expanding into the wilderness. Only Kingdoms where doing that and none had done so more successfully than Atlas. The militaristic characteristics which [name] had picked up from her other home had resulted in a more than a few teasing remarks from her [name]’s father and his more freeform friends but they understood her reasoning and sent her back with their blessings.

Now old enough to join Atlas academy proper [name] charged forward getting in because of her high scores and a recommendation from an Atlas Specialist, her mother, and settled in. Enjoying the military culture as much as she thought she would [name] quickly overcame her initial fears and has only blossomed.

Personality: [name] dreams of being the perfect soldier but she isn’t there yet. Permanently good humoured she works well in a team but remains serious enough to subconsciously follow military courtesy and has the confidence to act on her instincts even as the dust starts flying. This confidence does overwhelm [name] at times particularly when her team mates are in trouble or people manage to get through her substantially think skin. [name] wouldn’t call this arrogance instead saying she simply has a clearly defined sense of right and wrong.
 
A passionate love for music colours most of her free time. [name] learnt the guitar from her father and the piano from her mother and quickly developed an impressive talent for both instruments. Her wall at Atlas is covered in different instruments which she has picked up in her travels which she can all play to varying degrees and still receives more from her parents and friends as gifts. She cares them all greatly but freely parts with them if others show interest. The only exception is an old twelve string guitar, a relic from long ago before the Faunus won their freedom given to [name] by her father. Any other spare time [name] has outside of school is dedicated to dedicated to advanced courses where she is learning to be a pilot.

Not particularly smart [name] has a very strict study ethic which allows her to keep up with her studies even if it takes longer than most students. Reasonably adaptive [name] has a lot of experience being in odd situations and is capable of rapidly cycling through logic tools to choose the best option to solve the current problem. Other than that [name] is an open book, enjoying talking about her past and learning about other peoples.

Aura and Semblance: [name]’s aura is a soft brown is highly refined, particularly her danger sense which combining with her Faunus senses stretches far futher than most. Other than that [name]’s aura is quite average, her precision only just making up for her relatively small aura pool.

Combat Behaviour: Surprisingly fast with her hands considering her armour [name] can lay down a flurry of vicious hatchet strikes in a blink of an eye driving back even the most foolhardy attacker. She isn’t so fast on her feat however and therefore often needs help actually getting to grips with her enemy. Taking moves from all over Remnant [name]'s style fits into a dozen different schools and none of them which makes her an unpredictable and adaptable foe but she lacks the expertise others have when they have dedicated themselves to one style. This means that unless she finds a way to take advantage of said adaptability [name] will often lose out in a straight up brawl.

[name]’s quad barrelled shotguns provide her range accompaniment and are capable of unleashing a steady stream of fire or a spectacular barrage if fired all at once. They are still fairly short ranged weapons as such [name] will often use one or two rounds as a speed boost to get herself into position before bring the hurt with her axes. If she is unable to close the gap [name] has one last trick to distract her enemy long enough to advance up the field. Her shotguns are still active when her hatchets are in their boomerang form allowing for an unpredictable, if hard to aim, volley. This is controlled by a console carried on [name]’s left wrist which also contains a communication device and basic survival equipment.

The area effect of her shotguns and speed of her hatchets makes [name] well suited for hoard combat as she is quickly able to move on from foe to foe like an unstoppable force of nature. She struggles more with 1v1 fights as with enough care much of the danger [name] poses can be disarmed by keeping distance and keeping an eye on her weapons. In a team, however is where [name] really shines acting as a strong, hard to shift anchor while the rest of the team who can actually move takes advantage of the flanks or simply corrals them into the meat grinder.

WEAPON

Name: Black Blizzard

Primary Form: Set of four hatchets with about 30cm/1’ long handle and four shotgun barrels embedded in the top of each weapon. The trigger is just above the handle covered by a guard. The shotgun is reloaded similarly to a double barrel shotgun but instead the handle breaks off revealing the loading port.

Secondary Form: The axe head retracts and the haft bends turning the weapon into a boomerang. The shotguns are still achive but can only be fired remotely with the use of radio waves from [name]’s console on her left wrist.

Dust Functions: Black Blizzard can utilise any type of dust rounds but [name] prefers air or ice dust because they boost her own mobility and reduce her enemies.

History: A month long conversation with her parents resulted in the detailed plans which would become Black Blizzard. Very dissimilar from both parents weapons it represented one of the first major expressions of true independence [name] showed and they couldn’t be happier.

12
General Discussion / Damage dealt by attacks
« on: January 22, 2017, 02:11:09 AM »
I've been reading through some of the more combat orientated threads and I see a lot of people talking about how much percentage of their opponent's aura each of their attacks would do. I can't find anywhere suggesting an outline for how much damage basic attacks, let alone aura or semblance boosted ones, would do. Is this worked out by the authors before each 'fight' or are authors, and the moderators, simply trusted to keep what damage their characters can do balanced?

Sorry if this is answered else where and thankyou in advance for any responses.

13
Approved Characters / Calen Shrike
« on: December 27, 2016, 02:01:56 AM »
CHARACTER

Name: Calen Shrike

Age: 18, Born 19th of Hitahita 63AC

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol: Three interlocked cracked circles 

Occupation: First year student.

Appearance: Tall but gaunt, 6’/1.8m 110lb/50kg, Calen’s body once gorged on opulence now carries the scars of years alone in the wilds of Remnant. Despite those years in the sun Calen’s pale skin remains almost ghostly, this combined with his emaciated body gives him a skeletal appearance. Calen’s knives keep his short black hair neat and his face cleanly shaven even on expeditions. The only natural colour is Calen’s deep green eyes which almost glow given their monochrome setting.
 
Mirroring his physical appearance, Calen prefers mostly black and white formal clothing (usually a two-piece suit) with small splashes of primary colours in buttons, ties or small ribbons on his lapel. Calen practically uses the long sleeves, high collars and gloves to hide his scars and skeletal form leaving only his sunken cheeks and hungry eyes visible. When expecting a fight, Calen will maintain his formal attire but also wear thin layers of armoured material under his clothes, unable to absorb kinetic force they provide decent defence against claws or blades. Calen is also quite a fan of jewellery, wearing a simple gold earring in his right ear and a silver bracelet of charms on his left wrist.

Vocally Calen has a surprisingly soothing voice, one ill-suited for his barbed tongue. Calen moves with almost courtly grace, a slight limp from an injury on his right knee when working out his semblance spoils the image if carefully studied. The same follows his movements in everything he does, poised when seated, always upright and moving with precision in combat or out.

History TLDR: A good childhood with one for five large hunter families protecting Nevah an isolated town in south Amina was cut short by realising they don’t hunt Grimm they hunt Faunus. A failed attempt to recuse some of his family’s captives had him branded a traitor and tortured for a month. Escaped when hunters and white fang forces, hearing from the escapees, moved into arrest/kill his family. Wandered the wilds and towns of Amina for over a year trying to get as far away as possible then stowing away on a ship to Sanus. Continuing his trek Calen was set upon by a Nevermore and would have perished if he wasn’t saved by a hunter. Memories brought about by seeing the hunter fight caused Calen to face his past rather than run from it. As such he has decided to try to balance the scales his family had upset by becoming a hunter.

History: The youngest of a litter of nine by seven years Calen had a very happy childhood. Born to the Shrike family, one of five families sworn to guard Nevah, a large town in south Anima. Most of the family would be off hunting or patrolling at any one time but they always made an attempt to get Calen involved. He was helping prepare meals by five, gathering medical herbs by six and cleaning weapons and armour by eight. An outsider may have thought the Shrike family treated their youngest like a servant but Calen loved every second of it, being even a small part this unstoppable hunting force. Given gifts by those they protected the Shrike family had enough money to ensure their every desire was met from books to the latest games the Shrike family lived in opulence almost unheard of outside the kingdoms. Home-schooled by whoever was sitting out of the families endless hunting trips that day in fighting, academics and surviving in the wilds, Calen threw himself into anything which would have made him an asset to his family, by nine he was the main cook of the household and by twelve even his father was asking for his opinion on medical matters. All throughout this Calen was training to be a hunter, practicing with dummies as soon as he could hold a stick and graduating to half play half real fights with his siblings and the other families when he was starting to unlock his aura and semblance at twelve. Much to his mother’s despair even half real fights with trained huntsmen left scars and even broken bones on her darling boy but still Calen loved every second of it, every fight he was getting that much closer to being like them. On his fifteenth birthday, he even won his first fight and he was so happy that it took him weeks to realise one of his brothers had thrown the fight.

Also around his fifteenth birthday Calen started to get left alone for extended periods of time. In the beginning, he thought nothing of it and simply used it as more time to train on his own but as the gaps became longer and longer he started to worry. Wandering around the woods outsider of town Calen faintly heard muted screaming coming from further off in the wilds. Calen quickly dashed over, thinking one of his family was in peril, but found trap door camouflaged with the undergrowth which lead down into an cavern. Making his way down the darkened passageway Calen started to hear the screaming more clearly and could pick out different voices, men, women and children younger than he where trapped down here. Onward he pressed, his aura guiding him around the stalagmites into a large sanctum. Cages of Faunus littered the sides of the room with one strapped to a table in the middle of the room, it was his screams which he heard before. Living outside CCT tower range and kept from the poorer areas of Nevah Calen cautiously approached the bound figure, having only seen Faunus before he was equal parts scared and enthralled. The creature begged to be released and in a daze Calen complied, unshackling the Faunus and resting it on his shoulder as they made their way out. They had almost made it to the door before his family returned. Seeing his captors, the Faunus grabbed Calen as a shield and out of pure instinct Calen kicked out knocking the Faunus a stalagmite and in its weakened state expired from a broken neck.

His family was overjoyed. The first time in a decade the entire family returned home to celebrate their youngest first kill. Its accidental nature didn’t matter to the Shrike family nor did it reduce Calen’s growing horror seeing for the first time the reality of his family. They weren’t protectors but monsters, preying on these so called ‘Faunus’ and others they considered less than themselves from the shadows. Despite his family’s assurances of the inhuman nature of their captives Calen silently rebelled and began trying to free the Faunus his family had captured. Calen had only gotten a handful out before his family realised what he was doing. They were furious, they brutally killed the rest of their captives in front of Calen to show the futility of his actions and then had Calen replace them on the table at the mercy of his family’s sadistic impulses. They saw him no longer as their baby boy but in their twisted minds something worse than a Faunus, a traitor. In less than a week Calen’s mind began to fray under the attentions of those he would have given his life for only a month ago. His body was kept just alive enough to survive on a day to day basis and soon his body was a maze of scars. Fortunately for Calen some of the freed Faunus managed to alert authorities in Mistral, the remaining four families as well as a furious White Fang detachment. Caught in the middle of a three way conflict Calen managed to break free and escape into the wilds. He never found out the outcome of that battle but Calen has never heard from his family or even his home town since.
 
Calen spent almost two years slowly making his way through Anima. He fled from village to village moving on whenever he heard Mistral hunters or White Fang were in the area. Usually travelling with caravans of traders Calen still had several close calls with Grimm or bandits and innumerous sleepless nights alone in the wilds. Turning his knowledge of the local flora and fauna into a living selling pelts, food and medical components allowing Calen to survive the trek, if barely, and stowaway on a ship to Sanus. Landing in the south east of the continent Calen continued his journey enjoying the change of scenery until he was blindsided by a Nevermore, completely outclassed Calen could only run. Quickly chased down he would have died if he wasn’t saved by a hunter. His grace in combat, humility in victory and refusal of any payment reminded Calen of the better part of those he had spent two years trying to forget. Thanking the hunter one last time Calen departed for Vale and Beacon, no more running from his past he decided. He had a debt to repay to the world.

Making it to Vale without much further difficulty Calen continued making a living off the land while he prepared for the enrolment exam. Luckily Calen’s memory helped him quickly catch up on the academic side. As for the combat sides Calen blitzed the sparing rounds, the majority of his training was for fighting people and as such had an edge over his competition. Live combat was harder but by tapping into his experiences wandering Remnant, a little heart and a lot of luck he managed to pass.

Personality: Calen has managed to mentally supress his trauma and therefore evidence of his dark past only seeps through in his already defined character traits. Before he was prideful because of his training supportive family but now it has solidified to an unshakable self-belief sliding straight into arrogance. Where he once was jovial he is now sardonic with most of his 'humour' being insults, self-deprecating or otherwise. Where he once found fulfilment in working as part of a whole Calen still volunteers for the most dangerous assignments but now out of ego and a sub-conscious death wish. Never is this clearer than in combat, even when fighting Grimm Calen will constantly let his opponent recover. Likewise, Calen has long been making enough money to feed himself properly but refuses to do so, eating only enough to keep his hunger pains from dulling to illogically prove self-mastery and further evidence of his complete disregard for his physical wellbeing. Despite it's willingly afflicted nature Calen's withered form reduces his stamina from his lack of fat, lowered immune system and lower body temperature.

He rarely holds grudges finding little value in the opinion of others, never even really feeling hate once in his life, takes attacks of his character personally but only in the short term. Physical injuries are forgotten the moment they stop hurting and forgiven almost instantly seeing them more as another barrier to overcome rather than anything personal.  Ironically the only thing that causes Calen to hold a grudge is mistreatment of Faunus, although this protective turn is more from not wanting his history relived than any particular love for Faunus.

Calen still cooks and enjoys it greatly, never eating anything he hasn't prepared himself, but usually cooks for others like his team mates or the less fortunate at one of Vales many soup kitchens. It began as an exploration of the Faunus communities but now Calen enjoys the few hours of peace between training and studying. The other of Calen’s great loves outside of fighting is dance, ballroom dancing in particular, and he constantly disparages Vale for its poor dance scene.

Uniquely suited to school life Calen is both extremely determined and possessing of an almost photographic memory making him a very capable academic student. He isn’t however very good at solving abstract problems, reacting to the unexpected or other forms of lateral thinking. Sociable enough Calen will invite strangers for meals and make idle conversation with anyone but becomes very protective when the conversation turns to himself and completely shuts down inquiries into his past. Questions are deflected by forced, often repeated, jokes.

Aura and Semblance: Calen’s forest green colour aura is very strong for his age. He however isn’t very good of it’s more finesse applications like creating shockwaves, focused blocking and his danger sense has a smaller radius than normal. Instead Calen uses his aura to make up for his distinct lack of muscles and to endure attacks.
 
Calen’s semblance is Velocity Manipulation meaning he is able to instantly change his speed for a short period of time. He isn’t running faster and is effectively being held or pushed in any direction he wishes, this does mean he needs to be careful not to trip on debris when ‘rushing’ along the ground. Calen also grows disorientated if he ‘rushes’ multiple times in quick succession making him spend a few moments to reorientation himself. Calen prefers to dash short distances for efficiency and to hide the extent of his semblance. 5% of his reserves is usually enough to dodge single attacks or empower his own attacks moving fast enough to evade arrows. He can rush longer but any large expenditure, >30%, in a single ‘rush’ is likely to knock Calen out as G-Forces batter his weak frame. On the flip side Calen can spend 5% of his reserves to cancel all current momentum on himself allowing him to freeze in place to dodge attacks or survive falls.

Combat Behaviour: A dance-like fighting style Calen relies heavy on feints and speed to gain the upper hand. The rhythmic movements are predictable if carefully studied and the ‘dance’ can be interrupted robbing Calen of much of his momentum. This slow start fighting style combines a fluid defence with steadily intensifying attack designed to prove undeniably the Shrikes superiority. Created to deal with humanoid enemies Calen struggles with dealing with most forms of Grimm, his experiences wandering Remnant has taught Calen how to deal with basic Usras and Beowulfs but more exotic breeds or alphas/majors can cause him a lot of grief.
 
Calen refuses to use dust in combat, saying he won’t rely on something he can’t personally ensure the craftsmanship and as such relies on his throwing knives if he is unable to close gaps with his semblance.

Resource management is a core element of Calen’s fighting style as he relies heavily on his aura and semblance for offense and defence. This means that every heavy blow Calen deals out is one heavy blow he can’t take and vies-versa. Despites this Calen is very difficult to keep down, his pride and will providing huge engine rooms to keep him moving when his body is falling apart. But in this state Calen can do little more than keep getting up as on its own his weak body is little threat at the best of times. All together this means Calen can grind through weaker or humanoid enemies comparatively easily but struggles against more powerful foes, particularly Grimm.

WEAPON 1

Name: None

Primary Form: A one-and-a-half sword with a single curved edge and sharp point for thrusting. Like Calen himself it is long, light and hard to break 1.5m/5’ blade, 15cm/6’’ handle with his symbol on its cross guard. Mostly used for rapid strikes and close quarter defence.

Secondary Form: The handle extends a full 2m/6’8’’ into a glaive. More of an acrobatic weapon providing more leverage for powerful swings and the length of the weapon improves it as a defensive tool. Calen will often use the glaive form to vault of the ground before ‘rushing’ an opponent to clear himself of any ground debris.

Dust Functions: None

History: Forged by Calen with the help of his mother and elder brothers. The metal used was weapons of hunters his family had slain but found impressive fighters which makes the composite metal almost impossible to break but rigid.

WEAPON 2

Name: Shrike Talons

Primary Form: A set of ten blades, one for each of Calen’s siblings and parents with their names inscribed on the blades. They make up his only range weapon but Calen is hesitant to use them and will almost compulsively search for them after any fight. Extremely high quality 30cm/1’ blades sharped to a razor point and maintained meticulously. Wide for throwing knives and they have seen close quarters use when Calen doesn’t have the space to use his combat dance.

Dust Functions: Each throwing knife has a small chamber which can store dust trigged by the blade striking any surface causing anything from bursts of flame to localised gravity wells depending on the dust used. Calen doesn’t make use of it.

History: A set of throwing knives given to Calen by his family after his first kill. He keeps them around to never forget what his family was to him before they were revealed as monsters. The blades themselves are hidden in a harness on his back which he is rarely without.

14
WiP Characters / Calen Shrike, first character
« on: December 26, 2016, 04:42:10 AM »
Its pretty long so congrats to anyone who slogs through it.

CHARACTER

Name: Calen Shrike

Age: 18, Born 19th of Hitahita 63AC

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol: Three interlocked cracked circles 

Occupation: First year student. Calen lives and studies in Vale having just passed the Enrolment exam. While studying, he gathers rare herbs and sap from the Forever Fall forest, this combined with an intermediate level of medical knowledge allows him to make a living selling medicinal compounds.   

Appearance: Tall but gaunt, 6’/1.8m 110lb/50kg, Calen’s body once gorged on opulence now carries the scars of years alone in the wilds of Remnant. Despite those years in the sun Calen’s pale skin remains almost ghostly, this combined with his emaciated body gives him a skeletal appearance. Calen’s knives keep his short black hair neat and his face cleanly shaven even on expeditions. The only natural colour is Calen’s deep green eyes which almost glow given their monochrome setting.

Mirroring his physical appearance, Calen prefers mostly black and white formal clothing (usually a two-piece suit) with small splashes of primary colours in buttons, ties or small ribbons on his lapel. Calen practically uses the long sleeves, high collars and gloves to hide his scars and skeletal form leaving only his sunken cheeks and hungry eyes visible. When expecting a fight, Calen will maintain his formal attire but also wear thin layers of armoured material under his clothes, unable to absorb kinetic force they provide decent defence against claws or blades. Calen is also quite a fan of jewellery, wearing a simple gold earring in his right ear and a silver bracelet of charms on his left wrist.

Vocally Calen has a surprisingly soothing voice, one ill-suited for his barbed tongue. Calen moves with almost courtly grace, a slight limp from an injury on his right knee when working out his semblance spoils the image if carefully studied. The same follows his movements in everything he does, poised when seated, always upright and moving with precision in combat or out.

History: The youngest of a litter of nine by seven years Calen had a very happy childhood. Most of the family would be off hunting at any one time but they always made an attempt to get Calen involved. He was helping prepare meals by five, gathering medical herbs by six and cleaning weapons and armour by eight. An outsider may have thought the Shrike family treated their youngest like a servant but Calen loved every second of it, being even a small part this unstoppable hunting force. Despite their isolation in the south of Anima the Shrike family had enough money to ensure their every desire was met from books to the latest games the Shrike family lived in opulence almost unheard of outside the kingdoms. Home-schooled by whoever was sitting out of the families endless hunting trips that day Calen threw himself into anything which would have made him an asset to his family, by nine he was the main cook of the household and by twelve even his father was asking for his opinion on medical matters. All throughout this Calen was training to be a hunter, practicing with dummies as soon as he could hold a stick and graduating to half play half real fights with his siblings when he was starting to unlock his aura and semblance at twelve. Much to his mother’s despair even half real fights with trained huntsmen left scars and even broken bones on her darling boy but still Calen loved every second of it, every fight he was getting that much closer to being like them. On his fifteenth birthday, he even won his first fight and he was so happy that it took him weeks to realise one of his brothers had thrown the fight.

Also around his fifteenth birthday Calen started to get left alone for extended periods of time. In the beginning, he thought nothing of it and simply used it as more time to train on his own but as the gaps became longer and longer he started to worry. Calen had never met anyone outside his family and as such had no friends, he had hundreds of games and books but outside CCT tower range the lack of human contact was hard on him. Wandering around the house Calen faintly heard muted screaming coming from further off in the wilds. Calen quickly dashed over, thinking one of his family was in peril, but found trap door camouflaged with the undergrowth which lead down into an cavern. Making his way down the darkened passageway Calen started to hear the screaming more clearly and could pick out different voices, men, women and children younger than he where trapped down here. Onward he pressed, his aura guiding him around the stalactites into a large sanctum. Cages of Faunus littered the sides of the room with one strapped to a table in the middle of the room, it was his screams which he heard before. Calen approached cautiously the bound figure, having never even heard of Faunus before he was equal parts scared and enthralled. The creature begged to be released and in a daze Calen complied, unshackling the Faunus and resting it on his shoulder as they made their way out. They had almost made it to the door before his family returned. Seeing his captors, the Faunus grabbed Calen as a shield and out of pure instinct Calen kicked out knocking the Faunus a stalactite and in its weakened state expired from a broken neck.

His family was overjoyed. The first time in a decade the entire family returned home to celebrate their youngest first kill. Its accidental nature didn’t matter to the Shrike family nor did it reduce Calen’s growing horror seeing for the first time the reality of his family. They were hunters not of Grimm or criminals but of these so called ‘Faunus’ and others they considered less than themselves. Despite his family’s assurances of the inhuman nature of their captives Calen silently rebelled and began trying to free the Faunus his family had captured. Calen had only gotten a handful out before his family realised what he was doing. They were furious, they brutally killed the rest of their captives in front of Calen to show the futility of his actions and then had Calen replace them on the table at the mercy of his family’s sadistic impulses. They saw him no longer as their baby boy but in their twisted minds something worse than a Faunus, a traitor. In less than a week Calen’s mind began to fray under the attentions of those he would have given his life for only a month ago. His body was kept just alive enough to survive on a day to day basis and soon his body was a maze of scars. Fortunately for Calen some of the freed Faunus managed to alert local authorities as well as a furious White Fang detachment. Caught in the middle of a three way conflict Calen managed to break free and escape into the wilds. He never found out the outcome of that battle but Calen has never heard from his family since.

Calen spent more than a year slowly making his away through Anima, losing his way several times and finding out the hard way simply being able to remember maps doesn’t protect from Grimm nests. Although a capable fighter and skilled forester Calen barely survived the trek and stowaway on a ship to Sanus. Landing in the south east of the continent Calen continued his journey enjoying the change of scenery until he was blindsided by a Nevermore, completely outclassed Calen could only run. Quickly chased down he would have died if he wasn’t saved by a hunter. His grace in combat, humility in victory and refusal of any payment remined Calen of the better part of those he had spent the better part of two years trying to forget. Thanking the hunter one last time Calen departed for Vale and Beacon, no more running from his past he decided. He had a debt to repay to the world.

Making it to Vale without much further difficulty Calen had gathered  enough knowledge on local flora to make a living while he prepared for the enrolment exam. Luckily Calen’s memory helped him quickly catch up on the academic side. As for the combat sides Calen blitz the sparing rounds, the majority of his training was for fighting people and as such had an edge over his competition. Live combat was harder but by tapping into his experiences wandering Remnant, a little heart and a lot of luck he managed to pass.

Personality: Calen possesses the insufferable pride of someone told by everyone he could do anything only hardened by surviving Remnant has solidified to an unshakable self-belief sliding straight into arrogance. Never is this clearer than in combat, even when fighting Grimm Calen will constantly let his opponent recover. This doesn’t mean he slakes off when it comes to training, studying or fighting and he will always volunteer himself for dangerous assignments to feed his ego. Likewise, Calen has long been making enough money to feed himself properly but refuses to do so, eating only enough to keep his hunger pains from dulling as an almost ritual proving of self-mastery. He also rarely holds grudges, never even really feeling hate once in his life, takes attacks of his character personally but only in the short term. Physical injuries are forgotten the moment they stop hurting and forgiven almost instantly.

Calen still cooks and enjoys it greatly, never eating anything he hasn’t prepared himself, but usually cooks for others like his team mates or the less fortunate at one of Vales many soup kitchens. It began as an exploration of the Faunus communities but now Calen enjoys the few hours of peace between training and studying. The other of Calen’s great loves outside of fighting is dance, ballroom dancing in particular and he constantly disparages Vale for its poor dance scene.
Uniquely suited to school life Calen is both extremely determined and possessing of an almost photographic memory making him a very capable academic student. He isn’t however very good at solving abstract problems, reacting to the unexpected or other forms of lateral thinking. Sociable enough if too sardonic Calen will invite strangers for meals and make idle convocation with anyone but will rarely talk about himself and never his past. Questions are deflected by forced, often repeated, jokes.
 
Regarding Faunus themselves Calen finds no real problem with them but finds the irony of wanting to be like his family then they being revealed as monsters hilarious. As such he rips into any Faunus he sees around school and with neither party wanted to hear/tell the joke these altercations often turn violent. Calen manages to hold his tongue while working at soup kitchens not wanting to lose that opportunity to cook.

Aura and Semblance: Calen’s forest green colour aura is very strong for his age. He however isn’t very good of it’s more finesse applications like creating shockwaves, focused blocking and his danger sense has a smaller radius than normal. Instead Calen uses his aura to make up for his distinct lack of muscles and to endure attacks.

Calen’s semblance is Velocity Manipulation meaning he is able to instantly change his speed for a short period of time. He isn’t running faster and as such must be careful not to trip on debris when ‘rushing’ along the ground. Calen also grow disorientated if he ‘rushes’ multiple times in quick succession making him spend a few moments to reorientation himself. Currently Calen spends around 10% of his reserves to increase/reduce his speed by ten meters per second for one second but more often ‘rushes’ for fractions of a second for efficiency and to make it less obvious. After the ‘rush’ ends Calen reverts to his previous velocity.

Combat Behaviour: A dance-like fighting style Calen relies heavy on feints and speed to gain the upper hand. The rhythmic movements are predictable if carefully studied and the ‘dance’ can be interrupted robbing Calen of much of his momentum. This slow start fighting style combines a fluid defence with steadily intensifying attack designed to prove undeniably the Shrikes superiority. Created to deal with humanoid enemies Calen struggles with dealing with most forms of Grimm, his experiences wandering Remnant has taught Calen how to deal with basic Usras and Beowulfs but more exotic breeds or alphas/majors can cause him a lot of grief.

Calen refuses to use dust in combat, saying he won’t rely on something he can’t personally ensure the craftsmanship and as such relies on his throwing knives if he is unable to close gaps with his semblance.

Resource management is a core element of Calen’s fighting style as he relies heavily on his aura and semblance for offense and defence. This means that every heavy blow Calen deals out is one heavy blow he can’t take and vies-versa. Despites this Calen is very difficult to keep down, his pride and will providing huge engine rooms to keep him moving when his body is falling apart. But in this state Calen can do little more than keep getting up as on its own his weak body is little threat at the best of times. All together this means Calen can grind through weaker enemies comparatively easily but struggles against more powerful foes.

WEAPON 1

Name: None

Primary Form: A one-and-a-half sword with a single curved edge and sharp point for thrusting. Like Calen himself it is long, light and hard to break 1.5m/5’ blade, 15cm/6’’ handle with his symbol on its cross guard. Mostly used for rapid strikes and close quarter defence.

Secondary Form: The handle extends a full 2m/6’8’’ into a glaive. More of an acrobatic weapon providing more leverage for powerful swings and the length of the weapon improves it as a defensive tool. Calen will often use the glaive form to vault of the ground before ‘rushing’ an opponent to clear himself of any ground debris.

Dust Functions: None

History: Forged by Calen with the help of his mother and elder brothers. The metal used was weapons of hunters his family had slain but found impressive fighters which makes the composite metal almost impossible to break but rigid meaning it’ll slide off most curved armours.
WEAPON 2

Name: Shrike Talons

Primary Form: A set of ten blades, one for each of Calen’s siblings and parents with their names inscribed on the blades. They make up his only range weapon but Calen is hesitant to use them and will almost compulsively search for them after any fight. Extremely high quality 30cm/1’ blades sharped to a razor point and maintained meticulously. Wide for throwing knives and they have seen close quarters use as they have better armour penetration than Calen’s main weapon.

Dust Functions: Each throwing knife has a small chamber which can store dust trigged by the blade striking any surface causing anything from bursts of flame to localised gravity wells depending on the dust used. Calen doesn’t make use of it.

History: A set of throwing knives given to Calen by his family after his first kill. He keeps them around to never forget what his family was to him before they were revealed as monsters. The blades themselves are hidden in a harness on his back which he is rarely without.

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