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Topics - Moth

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1
Introductions, birthdays, and departures. / Happy Birthday Monster!
« on: August 20, 2018, 11:06:04 AM »
Happy Birthday to MonsterManic, one hell of a stellar dude that's been a great friend since I joined the site. Directly responsible for the completion of several characters, a great teammate on Casanova, and a writer I always look forwards to reading. Thanks for everything, man.

2
Beacon Academy / Big Game Hunting [Closed]
« on: August 13, 2018, 12:53:42 AM »
The outdoor testing range at Beacon's weapons workshop was a place that told stories. From the faded pastel remains of various dust explosions and cracked asphalt, to the far concrete wall where several well-abused paper targets valiantly hung as a triumph against the wide variety of bullet marks marring their surfaces, one could tell it was well-used by students of all years. And this morning was no exception, as exhibited by quiet swears of Jima Purpora as she stood, hunched over what looked like a slab of iron with a motor attached, resting on several car jacks and half of a workbench.

The woman had been working on her most recent project for awhile now. After the Vytal Tournament and some recent sparring matches against other students, she'd been left feeling underpowered, and underleveled. Two things she knew she wasn't. The concept of not living up to her full potential was infuriating, so she'd decided it was about time for an upgrade in firepower, literally - and thus, the plans for her new chainsword were born. It'd taken some... interesting petitioning of the companies that provided her funding, alongside drafting plans for an entirely-new way of capturing Grimm, in order to get the money to build the weapon. It'd honestly been about time to replace her weapons though, too - the frequency of capture with the Grab n' Go were too low to warrant constant reuse, and after serving by her side for 4 years at Signal and then another 3 at Beacon, Jima had been reaching the edge of her capabilities with Goliath.

So thus, the plans for Requiem Alpha and Beta, alongside the compact capture discs, were created. The CCD's had been easy to draft, fast to assemble, and more importantly, much cheaper than the Grab n' Go - something Jima's correspondents were very happy to hear. Requiem had taken a bit longer to assemble, given the need to custom order parts to assemble in Beacon's weapons workshop. But weeks of late nights assembling and experimenting had finally paid off with the creation of the massive broadsword and it's custom-built dust powered engine.

So as Jima screwed back on the cover to the motor and flipped the switch on the base of the pommel, there's a muted roar as the motor comes to life. The blade of the weapon quickly gains a white glow before it lifts up off the workbench it was resting on, hovering nearly two feet over it's surface. Jima takes a step back, a massive grin on her face as she observes the result of so much of all her hard work - and lets out an incredibly unprofessional squeal of joy.

Now all that's left is a proper field test.

3
Plot Zone / Big Game Hunting [Closed!]
« on: August 08, 2018, 11:14:12 PM »
With a recent upgrade in firepower, Jima Purpora is looking for the opportunity to field test her weapon. This involves delving headfirst into the Emerald Forest looking for baddies with no regard to her safety, which is- well, 90% of missions hunters run anyways. She'd probably appreciate some friends along the way as well, so anybody's who interested in the opportunity to come in and beat up a large number of Grimm (alongside some very large Grimm) - well, this thread's for you!

In reality, this is mostly Moth's way of figuring out how to best write combat. Jima's going to be present, though probably be indisposed through various means throughout the majority of the fight, so it'll be up to whoever's interested to handle the Grimm. There's room for three in this makeshift hunting party.

1. Smokey Emberstone
2. Diana Farran
3. Kisha Miles
4. Tieren Augus

Apologies to anybody not chosen, but I'll hopefully be writing proper plot threads in the future, and you all will be the first to know!

4
Everywhere Else / Foreign Delicacies [Closed]
« on: July 31, 2018, 11:51:37 PM »
The best thing about about the Vytal Festival, in Chantou's opinion, is the way it makes cultures mesh together. From the hot deserts of Vacuo, the temperate climate of Vale, to her far-off homeland of Mistral, they all manage to come together in a fantastic exchange of ideals every time the Vytal festival comes around, providing combat academy students endless opportunities they might've never been allowed otherwise. In Chantou's case, it was the fact she actually got to travel internationally - it was hard enough to afford a ticket to Vale when moving, so to get to visit Atlas for the duration of the tournament, and watch matches live? That was something she could've never experienced otherwise. So despite the cold weather, or the racist locals, Chantou was determined to enjoy herself.

And there was no better place to do that then the tent city that gets set up every Vytal Festival, cooking delicacies from all four kingdoms for visitors to enjoy. Hell, if Chantou was lucky, she might even manage to find something from home.

So Chantou had swapped out her usual croptop for a chunky red sweater, guaranteed to keep her warm in the cold weather. Thankfully her cargo pants and work boots still worked - she didn't' have to change her outfit too mouch, other than throwing on a heavy leather jacket. With her eyes hidden under a pair of mirrored sunglasses, the young woman easily passed as human - allowing her to enjoy the festival without any prejudice.

Now all she needed to do was find somewhere to eat.

5
Beacon Academy / Cheap Beer on a Friday Afternoon [Open]
« on: July 30, 2018, 10:19:41 PM »
Even an entire continent away from home, Chantou would always find a way to resume old routines.

The orchid mantis had just finished her first week of classes, and to put it aptly, she was exhausted. It was a week-long gauntlet of academic rigor, the likes of which she hadn't faced in nearly two years. The sparring classes were fun, sure, but Aura 101 and Grimm studies had nearly melted her brain as she desperately attempted to keep up and memorize everything the teacher said. But she just had managed to squeak by until her very first Friday, and was determined to spend it relaxing - not contemplating academics, working out, or bonding with her new teammates. Relaxing.

So she'd immediately switched out of her school uniform and into her normal one, sunglasses and all, and had gone for a nice long drive into downtown Vale to pick up a 12-pack of beer. The student parking lot in Beacon was a small but nice-enough place - personal vehicles for students were rare, so she'd had her choice of parking spots, which was always a mood booster. She'd opened the trunk and had leapt up to sit inside, leaning against the wall of trunk with one leg dangling over the back. Combine that with an open can of cold beer, the chance to smoke for the first time all day, and honest to god quiet solitude, it was hard for the orchid mantis faunus to be in a better mood.

...even if she was a little people-starved, after not having a conversation all week that wasn't about academic work, but- well, she could deal with it. Being the cool loner was her thing after all. Yeah, she'd be fine.

Though she wouldn't be opposed to sharing her beer if someone asked.

6
Everywhere Else / Vytal Nutrients [Closed]
« on: July 23, 2018, 10:39:31 PM »
In a far-off corner of Amity Colosseum's food court, a small woman sits dejectedly staring into an absolutely massive bowl of noodles. Prism Skylark can't say she's thrilled with the location of the Vytal festival this year, in all honesty - Mistral would've been fun hub of activity, Vacuo's hot sun and sprawling sands would've been awesome to explore. Hell, if it even took place in Vale, being on the home turf would've been awesome! But no, instead it had to take place in Atlas.

Atlas, where clouds covered Prism's bright-blue sky and golden sun, where there was more white and grey than any other color. Atlas, where faunus were treated more poorly than nearly anywhere else. Where Prism got glares from men and women clutching their purses as she passed by. All because she'd let the feathers around her neck grow in to give her a natural scarf. All because she'd elected to take off her coat when entering the food court, despite keeping the massive pair of green-blue wings tucked closely to her back. Prism spent another few moments staring dejectedly at her food bowl, before sighing as she reached for her chopsticks, and started to dig in.

7
AMA Section / What's the worst way you can describe your characters?
« on: July 21, 2018, 10:52:24 PM »
We all spend so long attempting to accurately describe our characters, spending hours describing their backstory and their personality. It's nice to generalize sometimes, or even be lazy - so what's the worst possible way you can summarize your characters?

Prism, for example, is a PTSD-stricken chicken with a hairtrigger hurricane problem. Jima's the Grimm fetishist with a thing for expensive ink drawings, and my beloved twins as overtly sexual egotistical maniac with daddy issues, and his the sexually-repressed bookish nerd of a sister, also featuring daddy issues.

Regardless, do your best - or your worst - to describe your characters.


8
AMA Section / Why do you want to win the Vytal Festival?
« on: July 09, 2018, 03:47:47 PM »
Characters from all walks of life are soon going toe-to-toe in the upcoming Vytal Festival. The event is nothing to sneeze at, featuring the best and brightest out of the upcoming generation of hunters and huntresses. So, why does your character want to win the Vytal Festival? What's motivating them to beat up (or let themselves get beat up by) their peers on international television? The fame, the glory, the fangirls... or something else?

Even if your character isn't a student - why are they entering, and what are they attempting to prove?

9
Approved Characters / Chantou Rou
« on: July 09, 2018, 02:58:09 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Chantou Rou (Chan-toe Row)

Age: 19, born 12th of Neige

Species and Gender: Female Orchid Mantis Faunus

Symbol: Jeep Tire w/ an orchid flower blooming in the center

Occupation: 1st Year Beacon Student, Aeriel Silks Dancer

Appearance: Chantou is a 5’5” young woman, weighing approximately 130 lbs. Her appearance is lean and mean, a taunt body showing off smooth limbs with just enough muscle definition. Her skin is a dusty brown, dotted with slightly darker freckles across the bridge of her nose. A heart-shaped face and thick lips are well-accompanied by bleached-blond hair, it’s original dark black visible in the roots that she hasn’t bothered to dye again. Her hair is usually held back in a twin pair of space buns, parted down the middle, with any remaining bangs brushed to the side.

The most notable parts of Chantou’s appearance are the animalistic traits she’s inherited in the form of the spines along her arms, and her eyes. Being related to an orchid mantis has granted the young woman spines along the outside of her forearm, from wrist to elbow. These spines are a dark pink, their pretty appearance deceptively hiding their razor-sharp nature. Chantou's capable of using them as improvisational weapons, as they can normally pierce cloth, skin, and most fragile plastics, but are useless against anything harder. She's not the biggest fan of using them as weapons however, as they are capable of breaking off. Thankfully, Chantou's capable of making these spines lay flat along her arms - pricking any long-sleeved clothing she wears would be pretty obnoxious. Chantou also possess a pair of green-gold compound eyes, which thankfully light alongside sensing movement and having depth vision.

Chantou’s sense of fashion can only be described as easy and lose. The woman favors crop tops and low-slung cargo pants that leave her midriff bare, tucked into well-worn combat boots. She’s a fan of chunky, unusual jewelry, usually wearing hoop earrings alongside other large necklaces and bracelets. Her outfit is normally accompanied by a petal-pink sportsman’s jacket with white highlights and worn cuffs. She’s almost never seen without a large, chunky keychain attached to her belt via a chain. It’s exact contents include the keys to Babygirl, a whistle and a miniature can of pepperspray, some small plush toy keychains, and a picture of her and her mother in a small picture frame. It’s as exactly as loud and jangly as one would imagine, and Chantou’s constantly playing with it. Thankfully, her battle outfit is thankfully more practical than her everyday dress, composed of a twin-tailed jacket over a black undershirt, secured by a black belt with her symbol as the buckle around her middle, which she carries both scabbards for her swords from. She wears black pants underneath, with knee-high combat boots that she usually tucks a butterfly knife into

History: Teenagers will be irresponsible cretins until the end of time, and Chantou Rou’s conception lives to prove that. The result two drunk teenagers fumbling around in the bathroom of a party one fateful spring night, Aoi Rou was dumped by her boyfriend and abandoned by her family after the discovery of her pregnancy, cast out into the streets with nothing but her name and the set of clothes on her back. Desperate for work, the young woman did everything in her power to try to find work and become independent, but nobody wants to hire a pregnant teenager - and eventually in a fit of desperation, turned to the infamous Mistralian underground to find a profession. Working as a prostitute was far from her first choice, but desperation will drive a person to extreme lengths - especially a pregnant teenager with nowhere else to turn. Chantou was brought into the world nine months later by a back-alley medic, screaming her little lungs out. Despite her exhaustion, the sound was music to Aoi’s ears - and the first glimpse of her odd-eyed child confirmed love at first sight for the dragonfly faunus. Abandoned by everyone that ever cared for her, Akari made a promise then and there, to raise her daughter to the best of her ability.

Chantou Rou was the daughter of a prostitute. Akari could barely scrape together enough money to feed herself and her daughter monthly on top of affording their shitty apartment, so hiring any sort of professional childcare was out of the question. With a lack of places to go, Chantou would be brought to Akari’s workplace with her, left in the staff’s break room while her mother serviced clients. Interestingly, she was never an annoyance to the staff - the mistress who ran the place had a soft spot once learning of Akari’s situation, and the rest of the women that attended found the presence of a child a refreshing change. Chantou was practically raised by an entire commune of women, both human and faunus, who’d take time out of their day to visit the little bundle of sunshine in the break room that’d be building towers out of coffee creamers or scribbling pictures with pens stolen from the brothel’s front desk. To Chantou, there was nothing wrong or dirty about these women - they were just cool adults, with cool adult professions! And they were so nice to her! Who couldn’t love them? Chantou admired their grace and style, the way they could be effortlessly beautiful - and she couldn’t help but beg her mother to help her grow up to be like the women she so admired.

That got a firm no from Akari, but once her popularity grew amongst clients and she started bringing in a better income, she immediately signed her daughter up for local dance and gymnastic classes.

As Chantou aged, she began to attend the local primary school. Her mother’s profession didn’t matter to children when they were five, six, seven - Chantou was just a cool kid with pretty eyes who got to walk by herself to her Mom’s workplace after school. As the years crept onwards though, Chantou slowly began to realize the nature of her mother’s job - and more importantly, so did her classmates. The once-popular child was at ignored by her classmates, then slowly shunned - and then the bitter words started flying, calling a bug, a beetle, or a worthless insect. The bullying would continue onwards during after school, at gymnastic tournaments and dance recitals - but this time, it was the adults that looked down on both Chantou and her mother. Akari was never welcomed within the parent’s circles, and the other children would only copy their parent’s behavior by shunning and teasing Chantou. Chantou initially flinched with each name she got called, left to stare on sadly as she was left out by her former friends. But Chantou wouldn’t let them destroy her passions - she already knew life was hard for her mother, they wouldn’t get to make it any worse. She figured if they wanted a reaction out of her, she wouldn’t give them one - and her the foundation for her disconnected, nonchalant shell was set. If she was going to be shunned because of who she was, of who her mother was, she’d prove them all wrong - by being the best dancer in the class, the girl on top of the podium at every competition. They’d never be able to deny her, as long as she was the best. Admittedly, these decisions didn’t make her any more popular than she already was, but they did give the growing girl something she desperately needed in her own life - control, and to a degree, independence.

Despite the perception of her peers, Chantou would still go to her mother’s brothel everyday after school. It’d remained a safe place for her through all those years, a place that was more of a home than her shitty apartment  with her mother - even with the changes in staff as girls came and went. As she aged, the brothel’s mistress had started to assign her jobs - refilling rooms with fresh supplies and keeping track of the booking numbers. Not only was this in a place where she was comfortable, but the mistress paid her a minimum wage as well - allowing Chantou to contribute to their rent outside their mother as the sole income provider, and letting the Rou family breathe a little easier.

Even if the brothel was a safe haven for Chantou, it was still a brothel - a place where woman sold their bodies for money. The clientele they attracted were from all walks of life, from truck drivers to rich men from old families, looking for escape in a quick fuck. While the mistress did her best to screen the clients, there were still the dangerous ones - who’d harass and hurt the women, trying to get more than what they initially payed for. The brothel had an usher, but he always couldn’t be there - there were times when a woman’s screams lasted too long before they managed to burst into the room and intercept a man assaulting her. There were a times when Akari came home with bruises - on her neck, her thighs, bite marks and scratch marks. Even if she did her best to hide them, Chantou saw what men did to her mother, and slowly grew to despise the clientele of the brothel, even if she loved the people there.

It was an Atlesian officer visiting Mistral who’d visited the brothel, and the mistress had all the girls line up so he could pick one out. Chantou was 15, working behind the counter that day, running numbers and checking what supplies they’d need to order the next day. He’d glanced over all the women, before his eyes focused on her - and with a self-satisfied sneer, he’d informed the mistress he’d made his choice. She did try to stop him, but he had her by the arm, and was dragging the small woman towards the back room before anybody could do anything about it - and like any good mother, a furious Akari had thrown herself at him. He’d dropped Chantou to intercept the oncoming attack, but resultantly pinned her mom to the wall by the throat. It’d taken three woman and the brothel’s Mistress to pry him off Akari, and they’d needed to call in the usher from outside on the street to successfully throw him out, banning him for life.

Chantou quit working at the brothel that day.

Chantou was done. Her entire life, she’d seen women under the control of men - her mother’s livelihood depended on how nice they’d decide to be. Their family’s income - their place to live - depended on if she stayed popular enough to draw clients in. As Chantou stormed from the brothel, she swore then and there she’d never rely on anybody else - she’d be independent, self-sufficient, and most importantly, always have her pride. She’d never let that be taken away from her. 

Her mother had agreed sign her up to self-defense classes that day, on top of the dance and gymnastic classes she’d been taking for years.

Chantou was out of work for the next couple of years until age sixteen. She’d manage to put together a decent-looking resume, and with the help of the brothel’s mistress calling in a few favors, she’d managed to secure a job serving as a clerk at a local auto salvage and repair joint - not a bad job for a high school student. While the behind-the-desk work was boring, even if it payed decently, Chantou would spend the day staring out at the men working in the shop, working independently to fix all matters of problems with cars. Not only were their individual talents something to be envied, taking care of such major mechanical problems all by themselves, but Chantou herself became taken with the vehicles they fixes. It wasn’t long until she asked if it was possible to sign on as an apprentice, and soon enough she moved from behind the secretary’s desk to working out on the grounds

Chantou initially faced the same problems she did in dance or gymnastics. She was disregarded, shunned, and even laughed at by fellow male apprentices and the senior staff - “See the cute little girl trying to learn cars! How adorable! Let me help you fix that sweetie, you’ll never be able to understand that.” Even if Chantou’s nonchalant exterior protected her from the worse of their verbal assaults, lacking ammunition, she still had a problem: she lacked respect. So she approached it the only way she knew how - becoming the best. She threw herself headfirst into her work, taking advantage of every available opportunity. She learned faster than any other apprentice, diagnosed problems and fixed them before the rest could catch up. She modeled herself after the older foreman's guff, blunt attitudes, and wouldn't take anybody's shit - she even picked up their habitual smoking to add to the persona. Eventually, she became one of the yard’s top apprentices, to the point she was offered a full-time apprenticeship. Chantou was 17 by then, and the offer was more appealing to her than what remained of her academic career - and had dropped out just half a year shy of graduation.

One late night in the yard, the corpse of a stripped-up Jeep was dragged into the yard. Some rich Mistralian kid had taken his father’s car joyriding, and rather than attempting to fix the expensive piece, he’d just chosen to discard it. Chantou had been working late that night when she’d caught sight of the beat-up Jeep, with it’s tacky tiger-print finish and (mostly) intact leather seating - and had immediately fallen in love. She’d put her claim on the vehicle that night, paying full price for it up front and had it dragged into a more private corner of the yard, marking it off as rightfully hers.

The next two years passed in a blur to Chantou. Her role as an apprentice paid well, more than her work at the brothel, to the point she was able to start putting away money alongside helping to a less-shitty apartment with her mother. She had a pet project in repairing her Jeep, spending most of her spare money on parts necessary to get it running again. She pampered the corpse of the car to the point it was nicknamed “Babygirl” by the other apprentices, to Chantou’s amusement. Unfortunately the nickname stuck, but Chantou didn’t mind - the important part was that life was finally looking up for the Rou family for the first time in nearly 18 years. They’d managed to find happiness again, out of their mess of a lifestyle.

And then a client broke her mother’s arm in a fit of violence.

Akari was obviously out of the job for at least 10 weeks. They’d be relying on Chantou’s salary alone to stay afloat for awhile. The brothel considered their women self-employed professionals, so they didn’t offer any support in sueing the man - and the Rou family didn’t have enough money to hire an attorney to press charges. Akari, amazingly, wasn’t deterred - all she wanted to do was go back to work and start contributing to the family’s monetary pool again. The brothel’s mistress assured her she’d have a place when she returned thanks to her popularity, but until then, they’d need to stay afloat on an apprentice’s salary.

Chantou got angry.

She’d seen women get pushed around her entire life. She’d seen her mother get pushed around her entire life. She’d been pushed around her entire life, not only in school at dance, gymnastics, in the salvage yard - everywhere and everything was fair game for ridicule.

Chantou was done.

Completely and utterly done with having her pride stripped from her, from her mother, from the women that’d cared for her so deeply throughout her childhood. Chantou needed find something that’d earn her respect from everybody, whether they wanted to respect her or not.

And who else was more respected than hunters?

Chantou had dropped out of school, but she had a solid job and a steady paycheck. She’d had her private fund for repairing her jeep, and there was still money left over in that account - it was more than enough to commission a professional weaponsmith.. She’d turned her back on Mistral at that point - the city, with its deep-rooted underground, was lost to her at that point. She’d needed a new horizon, and a fresh start. She’d chosen Beacon Academy in the far-off City of Vale, and traveled across the world in order to take the entry exam - a year older than any other first year, but understandable given her circumstances. With nearly 14 years of gymnastics and dance behind her combined with self-defense classes, the live combat and sparring parts of the entry exam wasn’t hard to pass - and she’d only managed to squeak through the academic portion with an extreme amount of concentrated cramming. Chantou Rou is coming into Beacon blazing - it’s up to the other students if they’ll be able to handle her heat.

Personality: At first glance, Chantou Rou is your classic cool kid. With her eyes usually hidden behind a pair of mirror sunglasses and sporting a devil-may-care attitude, her cool and collected exterior is nearly-impossible to surprise or shatter. This devil-may-care attitude is accompanied by the world’s bluntest approach to life possible and an absolute disregard of tact - Chantous says what she wants, whenever she wants, and nobody is going to stop her, especially if you urge her to hold her tongue.  The only time you’ll see this attitude change is when she’s engaging the adrenaline junkie that lurks right beneath her chilled surface, whooping loudly with a wide grin on her face as she goes joyriding or some other crazy stunt with reckless abandon. Chantou has approximately two modes: slow n’ easy, or fast n’ furious, and switching between the two of them happens as easily as flicking a switch. With her lackadaisical dressing style, usually chomping on gum or smoking a cigarette, Chantou’s the living stereotype of a pop-punk bad girl - and revels in it.

However, Chantou’s reckless, disregarding attitude hides some unfortunate secrets. Her devil-may-care styles aren’t a front, as being growing up the daughter of a prostitute in an especially-seedy part of Mistral toughens you to anything else shocking in life - but it doubles as a protective front, used to conceal anxiety-ridden teenager who’s terrified of becoming her mother. The reckless attitude and disregard for her health is helped used to compensate any common sense that might try to listen to the anxieties in her head, burying them beneath the roar of tires on asphalt or the smoke of her cigarettes. Furthermore, growing up in a brothel has severely warped Chantou’s views of sex and romantic relationships. Sex a simply a tool, in exchange of x you’ll get y. She’s also extremely hesitant about romantic relationships, or any relationships at all - it was a teenage relationship that screwed over her mother, and she’ll do anything to prevent what her mother became. These deep-rooted relationship problems have afflicted Chantou her whole life, and they’re not likely to change anytime soon - she should honestly probably get good at making regular friends, first.

Despite her unhealthy habits and blunt tactics, Chantou does have some positive attributes. Growing up a freaky-eyed faunus in an environment where men would regularly take advantage of the women around her has given her an eagle’s eye when it comes to danger and abuse - she can recognize almost any endangering situation with near-immediate clarity, constantly having her guard raised in order to protect herself. This protective, street-smart attitude lends itself to any women, children, and teenagers her age around her, not wanting them to end up in the same situations she dealt with as a child. She’s naturally distrustful of most grown men as a result, especially human men - in her mind, it’s women and faunus always come first. This protective attitude will extend itself to anybody who needs an ear, the offer of a cigarette and maybe some gum - she’s ironically fairly patient when helping others with their problems, and her blunt approach to literally everything has the patent ability to cut straight through a person’s bullshit to the source of their problems. Even if it’s not careful words, they’re truthful - and she prides herself on this, not giving people what they want to hear but what they need to hear. Telling anything but the truth in Chantou’s mind is as bad as treason, and while she’ll respect secrets, she’s not above hauling out a person’s dirty laundry for themselves (and the world) to see. This protective, hyperfocused side of her can be also be seen in her passions, whether it’s in the affection she approaches working on her old jeep with, to the graceful movements of her aerial trapeze. She usually enjoys burying herself in her hobbies, as they help keep her mind off the worst of things in a healthier way than her normal approach, and as a result, what she creates when she dances or works with mechanics - she does with both pride and skill. On top of working on her car or dancing, Chantou’s passions include practicing her dexterity via butterfly knives, joyriding, and occcaisal acts of graffiti - she’s a surprisingly good artist.

Aura and Semblance: Chantou’s aura is a petal pink, and is fairly large for someone her age. A lifetime of tumbling through gymnastics and dance has inadvertently trained her aura to help her bounce back from strikes that would leave most people winded, and she’s able to focus her aura to help reduce incoming damage, as long as the thought is in her mind. Unfortunately however, she's yet to discover the nature of her semblance.

Spoiler: show
I haven't decided on a semblance yet - it'll be added in later as her character develops.


Combat Behavior: Growing up in a dangerous neighborhood of Mistral, Chantou’s fighting style is a mixture of over a decade of dance and gymnastic classes, combined with practical self-defense and tricks she’s picked up from observing (and participating in) several street fights. Acting as a close and mid-range skirmisher, her best work is done when playing as a defensive fighter, running circles around her enemies and taking advantage of both the ranged capabilities of her pistols, or her whips. She’s a patient fighter as well, and isn’t afraid to draw back and wait out her opponent - finding the perfect moment to strike to do maximum damage is much more important that an all-out barrage. Finally, there’s the fact that her unshakable poker face has left her pretty much immune to all battlefield taunts - only a few choice insults would get her angry enough to lash out and take unnecessary risks.

Chantou still has a far range of weaknesses however, and is still figuring out the best way to cover them. She’s lightweight and fairly small in comparison to many, making her susceptible to stronger opponents - especially if they try to turn the match into a slugfest. Working with pistols and whips nails her as a close-range fighter (mid-range at best), and anybody in possession of a sniper rifle or being capable of other long-distance attacks pose a definite threat, especially if she’s unable to maneuver around the battlefield. And while independance does let her hold her own as a fighter, her lack of trust in others puts her at odds with any team she would be working with - cooperation is not her strong suit, especially if someone is in-her-face about it.

WEAPON

Name: “I dunno, they’re just whip-sword things? Why does everything need a name?”

Primary Form: A lightweight pair of chain whips, composed of individual metal segments. These metal metal segments are double-bladed and sharpened to a point, providing Chantou with a dangerous cutting edge when flicked. Each whip has a sturdy metal half-a-foot handle wrapped in leather to provide a better grip; and can be loaded with dust-based by popping open a hatch in the base of the handle. While both whips normally have a length of 6 feet, thanks to an internal extendable mechanism, the whips are capable of stretching up to 12 feet when lashed. By flicking a switch on the handle of the whips, the internal extending mechanism is able to essentially “reel” into the individual metal segments of each whip. This causes them to draw together until the length of the whip is reduced to three feet, where the individual metal segments will then “lock” together to provide Chantou with a twin pair of double-bladed short swords.

Secondary Form: By sheathing both swords in their respective scabbards and flicking a switch on the outside of either, the handles of either sword can detach from the blades, leaving them locked inside their scabbards. The individual handles then can become a twin pair of semi-automatic pistols, capable of holding 7 rounds each before needing to be reloaded. Chantou carries spare ammunition magazines on the back of her belt.

Tertiary Form: Chantou prefers to revert both whips to their secondary form in order to transport them, sheathing both in scabbards that are attached to either side of her belt.

Dust Functions: Both whips can utilize a wide variety of dust functions by loading in a cartridge into the handle via a small hatch in the hilt of each weapon. The pistols can be loaded with dust-tipped bullets, but that’s the limit of their dust functions.

Ice Dust: Causes the whip’s blade to take on a frost-like sheen, freezes limbs on contact.
Fire Dust: Light the length of both whips on fire, burns opponents on contact (and may automatically cauterize wounds cause by the blades).
Lighting Dust: Causes the blades to become electrocuted, discharges upon contact.
Wind Dust: Allows the whips to create large gusts of wind upon being “snapped” in order to blow back opponents
Earth Dust: Gives the whip’s blade a dirty covering, can create sandstorm-like clouds when whipped around.
Kinetic: Increasing the strength of the whip’s blows.

Name: Razor's Edge

Primary Form: A lightweight fingerless glove with a thick cuff, Razor's Edge is a wrist-mounted grappling dart and reel with an effective distance of 150 meters. Usually worn on Chantou's right hand, the dart contains an especially potent gravity dust crystal, that activates on contact with any surface  after hitting it "any harder then a gentle whack," in Chantou's words. The dart will then stay embedded for a maximum of 30 seconds before falling away - though it will stay embedded in something longer if it physically inserted itself. The cable itself is capable of holding up to 250lbs, so this could include Chantou herself and one other relatively-small person.

History: Commissioned by Chantou from a professional weaponsmith upon her decision to attend Beacon, Chantou opted for weaponry that would fit well with her dance-like fighting style, but is easy to use - at least, in theory.

OTHER

Name: Babygirl

Description: Chantou’s pet project, a beat-up old Jeep she’s managed to bring back from the brink of death. With a tacky tigerprint paint job, leather seats that’ve been repaired via Chantou’s clumsy sewing or liberal application of duct tape, and a motor that roars like an Ursa, it honestly looks like it could fall apart at any moment - and Chantou wouldn’t have it any other way. She’d had some new additions as well via Chantou’s mechanical skills, including an updated stereo system, inbuilt cigarette lighter and ashtray, and more cup holders. The Jeep is built somewhat like a tank, and isn’t prone to getting scratched or crumpling easy - what helped it survive its initial destruction, actually - and can achieve speeds up to 120 mph, though the frame will feel like it might rattle apart. Chantou’s very fond of joyriding. The truck of the Jeep has an ever-present cooler stocked to the brim with cheap beer and junk food, a milk crate filled with spray paint cans, and a mechanic’s toolkit - something Chantou will never go without, if she can avoid it.

10
WiP Characters / Chantou Rou
« on: July 02, 2018, 10:28:00 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Chantou Rou (Chan-two Row)

Age: 19, born 12th of Neige

Species and Gender: Female Orchid Mantis Faunus

Symbol:  Sample Text

Occupation: 1st Year Beacon Student, Aeriel Silks Dancer

Appearance: Chantou 5’5” young woman, weighing approximately 130 lbs. Her appearance is lean and mean, a taunt body showing off lean muscle. Her skin is a dusty brown, dotted with slightly darker freckles across the bridge of her nose. A heart-shaped face and thick lips are well-accompanied by bleached-blond hair, it’s original dark black visible in the roots that she hasn’t bothered to dye again. Her hair is usually held back in a twin pair of space buns, parted down the middle, with any remaining bangs brushed to the side.

The most notable parts of Chantou’s appearance are the animalistic traits she’s inherited in the form of the spines along her arms, and her eyes. Being related to an orchid mantis has granted the young woman spines along the outside of her forearm, from wrist to elbow. These spines are a pale pink, their pretty appearance deceptively hiding their razor-sharp nature. Like most insects, Chantou has gold-green compound eyes in the place of her regular eyes. As these types of eyes only detect movement and have depth vision, Chantou possess three more eyes along the bridge of her forehead that detect light. These eyes are the same color as her skin and don’t have the same range of movement that regular eyes do, so they’re usually interpreted as a birthmark or makeup at first glance.

Chantou’s sense of fashion can only be described as easy and lose. The woman favors crop tops and low-slung khaki pants that leave her midriff bare, tucked into well-worn combat boots. She’s a fan of chunky, unusual jewelry, usually wearing hoop earrings alongside other large necklaces and bracelets. Her outfit is normally accompanied by a petal-pink sportsman’s jacket with white highlights and worn cuffs. Her battle outfit is thankfully more practical, composed of a twin-tailed jacket that fades from maroon to white, with a black belt around her middle. The belt buckle is in the form of her symbol, and underneath she wears black pants with knee-high combat boots.

History: Teenagers will be irresponsible cretins until the end of time, and Chantou Rou’s conception lives to prove that. The result two drunk faunus teenagers fumbling around in the bathroom of a party one fateful spring night, Akari Rou was dumped by her boyfriend and abandoned by her family after the discovery of her family, cast out into the streets with nothing but her name and the set of clothes on her back. Desperate for work, the young woman did everything in her power to try to find work and become independent, but nobody wants to hire a pregnant teenager - and eventually in a fit of desperation, the dragonfly faunus turned to the Mistralian underground to find a profession. A brothel was far from her first choice, but desperation with drive a person anywhere. Chantou was brought into the world nine months later by a back-alley medic, screaming her little lungs out. Despite her exhaustion, the sound was music to Akari’s ears - and the first glimpse of her odd-eyed child confirmed love at first sight for the dragonfly faunus. Abandoned by everyone that ever cared for her, Akari made a promise then and there, to raise her daughter to the best of her ability.

Chantou Rou was the daughter of a prostitute. With a lack of trustworthy childcare services available, Chantou would be brought to Akari’s workplace with her, left in the staff’s break room or a spare bedroom while her mother serviced clients. Interestingly, she was never an annoyance to the staff - the mistress who ran the place had a soft spot for Akari as one of her best girls, and the rest of the women that attended found the presence of a child a refreshing change. Chantou was practically raised by an entire commune of women, both human and faunus, who’d take time out of their day to visit the little bundle of sunshine in the break room that’d be building towers out of coffee creamers or scribbling pictures with pens stolen from the brothel’s front desk. To Chantou, there was nothing wrong or dirty about these women - they were just cool adults, with cool adult professions! And they were so nice to her! Who couldn’t love them? Chantou admired their grace and style, the way they could be effortlessly beautiful - and she couldn’t help but beg her mother to help her grow up to be like the women she so admired.

That got a firm no from Akari, but she did enroll her daughter in local gymnastic and ballet classes the next day. To little Chantou, it was the next best thing.

As Chantou aged, she began to attend the local primary school. Her mother’s profession didn’t matter to children when they were five, six, seven - Chantou was just a cool kid with pretty eyes who got to walk by herself to her Mom’s workplace after school. As the years crept onwards though, Chantou slowly began to realize the nature of her mother’s job - and more importantly, so did her classmates. The once-popular child was at ignored by her classmates, then slowly shunned - and then the bitter words started flying, calling a bug, a beetle, or a worthless insect. Chantou would flinch with each new name, which only seemed to spur the bullies on further - until she began to train herself not to react. Even if she was still shunned by her peers, the bitter words stopped with the lack of a reaction. Even if it meant hiding her emotions from the world, it let Chantou get by unbothered.

Despite the perception of her peers, Chantou would still go to her mother’s brothel everyday after school. It’d remained a safe place for her through all those years, a place that was more of a home than her shitty apartment  with her mother - even with the changes in staff as girls came and went. As she aged, the brothel’s mistress had started to assign her jobs - refilling rooms with fresh supplies and keeping track of the booking numbers. Not only was this in a place where she was comfortable, but the mistress paid her a minimum wage as well - allowing Chantou to contribute to their rent outside their mother as the sole income provider, and letting the Rou family breathe a little easier. Her work at the brothel was important - it was an escape from harsh school life, and it helped provide for her family.

Even if the brothel was a safe haven for Chantou, it was still a brothel. The clientele they attracted were from all walks of life, from truck drivers to rich men from old families, looking for escape in a quick fuck. While the mistress did her best to screen the clients, there were still the dangerous ones - who’d harass the women and hurt them, and try to get more than what they initially payed for. The brothel had an usher, but he always couldn’t be there - there were times when a woman’s screams lasted too long before they managed to burst into the room and intercept the man assaulting individual workers. There were a times when Akari came home with bruises - on her neck, her thighs, bite marks and scratch marks. Even if she did her best to hide them, Chantou saw what men did to her mother, and slowly grew to despise the clientele of the brothel, even if she loved the people there. It was an Atlesian officer visiting Mistral who’d visited the brothel, and the mistress had all the girls line up so he could pick one out. Chantou was 15, working behind the counter that day, running numbers and checking what supplies they’d need to order the next day. He’d glanced over all the women, before his eyes focused on her - and with a self-satisfied sneer, he’d informed the mistress he’d made his choice. She did try to stop him, but he had her by the arm, and was dragging the small woman towards the back room before anybody could do anything about it - and like any good mother, a furious Akari had thrown herself at him. He’d dropped Chantou to intercept the oncoming attack, but resultantly pinned her mom to the wall by the throat. It’d taken three woman and the brothel’s Mistress to pry him off Akari, and they’d needed to call in the usher from outside on the street to successfully throw him out, banning him for life.

Chantou quit working at the brothel that day.

Chantou was done. Her entire life, she’d seen women under the control of men - her mother’s livelihood depended on how nice they’d decide to be. Their family’s income - their place to live - depended on if she stayed popular enough to draw clients in. As Chantou stormed from the brothel, she swore then and there she’d never rely on anybody else - she’d be independent, self-sufficient, and most importantly, always have her pride. She’d never let that be taken away from her. 

Her mother had agreed sign her up to self-defense classes that day, on top of the dance and gymnastic classes she’d been taking for years.

Chantou was out of work for the next couple of years until age sixteen. She’d manage to put together a decent-looking resume, and with the help of the brothel’s mistress calling in a few favors, she’d managed to secure a job serving as a secretary at a local auto salvage joint - not a bad job for a high school student. While behind-the-desk work was boring, even if it payed decently, Chantou would spend the day staring out at the men working in the shop, working independently to fix all matters of problems with cars. Not only were their individual talents something to be envied, taking care of such major mechanical problems all by themselves, but Chantou herself became taken with the vehicles they fixes. It wasn’t long until she asked if it was possible to sign on as an apprentice, and soon enough she moved from behind the secretary’s desk to working on the floor.

Chantou picked up auto repair rebuilding surprisingly quickly - even if she didn’t excel academically, putting everything she had into achieving the same level of skill that the other workers did as quickly as possible did achieve results. It helped that she’d fallen in love with the cars and machines themselves as well, full of moving parts that all worked in tandem to create something beautiful - something like her dances, she reckoned. She spent a long time getting overestimated and ragged on by other male apprentices and and even some of the senior staff, expecting her to burn out within a month - but she’d simply pulled on the same emotionless “you don’t bother me” mask she’d worn throughout primary school. Her habitual smoking had started with accepting a cigarette from a senior staff member, before she started buying them herself on the down-low - and it wasn’t long before she started joining the regular smoking crowd at the auto shop, and picked up the habit of blowing cigarette smoke into the face of anybody who didn’t understand she didn’t want to waste her time with them.

One late night in the yard, the corpse of a stripped-up Jeep was dragged into the yard. Some rich Mistralian kid had taken his father’s car joyriding, and rather than attempting to fix the expensive piece, he’d just chosen to discard it. Chantou had been working late that night when she’d caught sight of the beat-up Jeep, with it’s tacky tiger-print finish and (mostly) intact leather seating - and had immediately fallen in love. She’d put her claim on the vehicle that night, paying full price for it up front and had it dragged into a more private corner of the yard, marking it off as rightfully hers.

The next two years passed in a blur to Chantou. Opting to eventually drop out of school so she could work full-time at the auto-salvage yard, Chantou took up a full-time position as a mechanic, working on repairing her Jeep in her spare time. It took nearly a year for Chantou to acquire all the parts to repair the poor thing, but she’d eventually managed to get it up and running again. She was earning above minimum wage, she’d managed to repair her car to get it up and running - she’d and her mother had even managed to move from a shitty apartment to a less-shitty apartment! Life was looking up for the Rou family, for the first time in nearly 18 years.

And then a client broke her mother’s arm in a fit of violence.

Akari was obviously out of the job for at least 10 weeks - that was nearly three weeks. They’d be relying on Chantou’s salary alone to stay afloat for awhile. Akari, amazingly, wasn’t deterred - all she wanted to do was go back to work.

But Chantou? Chantou was angry.

She’d seen women get pushed around her entire life. She’d seen her mother get pushed around her entire life. She’d been pushed around her entire life, not only in school but in the salvage yard.

Chantou was done.

Completely and utterly done with having her pride stripped from her, from her mother, from the women that’d cared for her so deeply throughout her childhood. Chantou needed find something that’d earn her respect from everybody, whether they wanted to respect her or not.

And who else was more respected than hunters?

Chantou had dropped out of school, but she had a solid job and a steady paycheck. She’d had her private fund for repairing her jeep, and there was still money left over in that account - it was more than enough to commission a professional weaponsmith to forge her a twin pair of swords. She’d turned her back on Mistral at that point - the city, with it’s deep-rooted underground, was lost to her at that point. She’d needed a new horizon, and a fresh start. She’d chosen Beacon Academy in the far-off City of Vale, and traveled across the world in order to take the entry exam - a year older than any other first year, but understandable given her circumstances. With nearly 14 years of gymnastics and dance behind her combined with self-defense classes, the live combat and sparring parts of the entry exam wasn’t hard to pass - and she’d only managed to squeak through the academic portion with an extreme amount of concentrated cramming. Chantou Rou is coming into Beacon blazing - it’s up to the other students if they’ll be able to handle her heat.

Personality: At first glance, Chantou Rou is your classic cool kid. With her eyes usually hidden behind a pair of mirror sunglasses and sporting a devil-may-care attitude, her cool and collected exterior is nearly-impossible to surprise or shatter. This devil-may-care attitude is accompanied by the world’s bluntest approach to life possible and an absolute disregard of tact - Chantous says what she wants, whenever she wants, and nobody is going to stop her, especially if you urge her to hold her tongue.  The only time you’ll see this attitude change is when she’s engaging the adrenaline junkie that lurks right beneath her chilled surface, whooping loudly with a wide grin on her face as she speeds down a highway or jumps off something tall with no regards to her safety. Chantou has approximately two modes: slow n’ easy, or fast n’ furious, and switching between the two of them happens as easily as flicking a switch. With her lackadaisical dressing style, usually chomping on gum or smoking a cigarette, Chantou’s the living stereotype of a pop-punk bad girl - and revels in it.

However, Chantou’s reckless, disregarding attitude hides some unfortunate secrets. Her devil-may-care styles aren’t a front, as being growing up the daughter of a prostitute in an especially-seedy part of Mistral toughens you to anything else shocking in life - but it doubles as a protective front, used to conceal anxiety-ridden teenager who’s terrified of becoming her mother. The reckless attitude and disregard for her health is helped used to compensate any common sense that might try to listen to the anxieties in her head, burying them beneath the roar of tires on asphalt or the smoke of her cigarettes.

Despite her unhealthy habits and blunt tactics, Chantou does have some positive attributes. Growing up a freaky-eyed faunus in an environment where men would regularly take advantage of the women around her has given her an eagle’s eye when it comes to danger and abuse - she can recognize almost any endangering situation with near-immediate clarity, constantly having her guard raised in order to protect herself. This protective, street-smart attitude lends itself to any women, children, and teenagers her age around her, not wanting them to end up in the same situations she dealt with as a child. She’s naturally distrustful of most grown men as a result, especially human men - in her mind, faunus always come first. This protective attitude will extend itself to anybody who needs an ear, the offer of a cigarette and maybe some gum - she’s endlessly patient when helping others with their problems, and her blunt approach to literally everything has the patent ability to cut straight through a person’s bullshit to the source of their problems. Even if it’s not careful words, they’re truthful - and she prides herself on this, not giving people what they want to hear but what they need to hear. Telling anything but the truth in Chantou’s mind is as bad as treason, and while she’ll respect secrets, she’s not above hauling out a person’s dirty laundry for themselves (and the world) to see. This protective, hyperfocused side of her can be also be seen in her passions, whether it’s in the affection she approaches working on her old jeep with, to the graceful movements of her aerial trapeze. She usually enjoys burying herself in her hobbies, as they help keep her mind off the worst of things in a healthier way than her normal approach, and as a result, what she creates when she dances or works with mechanics - she does with both pride and skill. 

Aura and Semblance: Chantou’s aura is a petal pink, and is approximately average for someone her age. She has excellent danger sense and is capable of reducing incoming damage, but only through extreme concentration.

Chantou’s semblance is “Spirit Bomb.” Anywhere within a 20 meter radius, Chantou is able to place a glyph that essentially acts as a concussive mine, triggered by any sort of contact with the glyph - whether it’s ally or opponent, grimm or inanimate object. The glyphs appear as a pale-pink circle circle with a diameter of a foot when placed, in a pale-pink that’s nearly invisible to the eye. They create a sphere-shaped explosion with a diameter of 2 meters when triggered, sending anything within its radius flying. Chantou doesn’t need to make physical contact with a surface to place mine, and they can stick to any surface provided there’s room. Anything that makes contact with the glyph will normally be sent flying a distance of 5 meters at max.

Chantou’s Spirit Bombs have an extremely versatile range of dust functions. In order to create a dust-based spirit bomb, Chantou needs to make physical contact with the ground via either her hand or her whip(s) in order to place it. The glyph will then take on the color of the dust it corresponds to.

Ice Dust: Freezes the object or extremity of an opponent in contact with the glyph to the ground.
Water Dust: Creates a large steam cloud with a radius of approximately 15 meters upon detonation
Fire Dust: Expands the diameter of the spirit bomb to three meters, creating a fire-based explosion in order to deal more damage.
Lightning Dust: Creates a sphere-shaped electrical field upon detonation with a diameter of 10 meters, shocking anybody within its vicinity (including Chantou herself)
Wind Dust: Creates a massive updraft upon detonation, lasting for five seconds.
Earth Dust: Creates a sandstorm-like blast upon detonation, covering an area of approximately 10 meters
Kinetic Dust: Increases both the force and the diameter of the concussive blast to 10 meters, guaranteed to send anything within its vicinity flying up to 50 meters.

Combat Behavior:  Sample Text

WEAPON

Name: Sample Text

Primary Form: Sample Text

Secondary Form: Sample Text

Tertiary Form: Sample Text

Dust Functions: Sample Text

History: Sample Text

11
Beacon Academy / A Warm Welcome [Closed]
« on: June 28, 2018, 12:53:30 AM »
It's an excellent day to meet somebody new, yet despite this, Prism can't help but harbor a tinge of nerves.

It's a beautiful day at Beacon, classes have just let out right before the weekend. The hummingbird faunus is still decked out in her school uniform, minus the the jacket used to conceal her wings, and the iridescent feathery limbs are easily visible in the afternoon sunlight, glinting in all their glory. The announcement of another recipient of the Royale Scholarship came as a shock to the woman, but hearing about how the student would also be attending Beacon Academy had revealed an opportunity to her - it'd thrown her back to her first few nervous days, when she'd just met her teammates for the first time. It'd been a nerve-wracking time, wondering if she'd get along with them or if she'd be a good leader, and even if those fears were assuaged now, she better than anybody understood the daunting challenge of attending a school that pumped out modern-day heroes.

So she'd volunteered to welcome the new student, and make those first moments a little less awkward. They'd definitely at least have the scholarship to bond over, so it was as good a starting point as any. The fact that the new arrival was from Atlas was slightly concerning - they typically didn't hold the best opinions about faunus up there - but forcing herself beyond any worry, Prism was ready to welcome the new student, and hopefully introduce them to everything Beacon had to offer.

That's why she's planted herself outside the front doors of the school, bouncing in her heels, bearing a sign that said "YU NANHAI" in all-caps. Combined with the occasional flap of her wings, she's a hard spectacle to miss, which is what she's counting on.

12
Beacon Academy / An Extra Edge [Closed]
« on: June 25, 2018, 01:54:32 AM »
It's another beautiful day at weekend morning at Beacon Academy, where Prism Skylark's set up shop in one of Beacon's many training halls. The woman's swapped out her school garb for a simple athletic outfit and sneakers, no fancy heels or specially-modified tops in sight - a simple backless tank top to let her wings breath, a pair of tights, and an ever-present ammo belt slung around her hips. Hawk's Eye is in its glaive form on the ground next to her, and the woman's crouched on the ground, stretching one leg out to the side as she warms up. There's a couple of cardboard stands in the approximate shapes of Beowolves across the arena that she'd set up earlier, but other than that it wouldn't really be an unusual sight in the training halls - if it weren't for the fact it was 6:30 in the morning.

Nobody could ever say Prism didn't run a tight ship with Casanova, at least.

Now all that's left for the hummingbird faunus is for her teammate Coconut Cream to show up, having arranged for an early-morning training session. She'd seen the way he attacked during their initiation, and their sparing match made some things apparent - with a lack of a offensive semblance, Prism figured he needed another edge. And thankfully, she knew a trick or two that might just fit his style of going in hard.She just hopes he manages to make it on time despite the early wakeup - the boy had the tendency to sleep in, but they needed an uncrowded training hall for this. She'd at least nabbed breakfast for the both of them, based on the faint smell of bacon wafting from two takeout containers pushed against the side of the arena.

13
Beacon Academy / Showing Off in the Sun [Closed]
« on: June 15, 2018, 09:54:24 PM »
The weekend at Beacon Academy. It was a beautiful day - the sun was shining, birds were singing, and a light breeze was blowing just enough to keep a person cool in the warm sunshine. Instead of hiding himself away in one of Beacon's many training halls, Albrecht Clodwal had taken the opportunity to train outdoors. A slightly quieter spot on Beacon's front lawn, but still within view of passing students, for any of those who he knew would want to watch such a masterful display of skill. Shedding the characteristic trenchcoat and hat, he whirled in shining circles as the light glinted off the well-kept steel, practicing a routine meant to account for multiple opponent at once. It'd be impressive, if it weren't for the ridiculously cheesy "banter" he spouted as he practiced

"You walk a fine line, my dear opponent! But what you don't seem to understand is that it's my cutting edge you're balancing on - and soon, one way or the other, you will fall to my sword! No, that doesn't quite work..." He pauses in his routine, biting his lip, before inspiration strikes. "You will slip, and cut yourself on my blade!"

14
Beacon Academy / A Morning on the Range [Closed]
« on: June 14, 2018, 03:34:39 PM »
6:30 in the morning was a harsh time for nearly any student to wake up, especially on a Saturday. But when it came to Beacon Academy, Prism had learned that earlier was better for getting a good spot at the practice range - before it was flooded with early-morning patrons, hoping to polish there skills. Given her night-owl tendencies, she'd been at the practice range since 5, keeping her own skills sharp - it was just up to her teammate now to remember their early-morning appointment.

There's a final crack as a Beowolf-shaped target shatters in the distance, over 1000 meters out. Prism nods in satisfaction at her handy work, before stifling a yawn and walking back over to the small counter top where she'd left her bag. Digging through, she checks her scroll for the time - Jocelyn should be here at any minute - before pulling out the familiar colorful can of her precious energy drinks, cracking seal before leaning on the wall. Her stomach grumbles, but she ignores it for now. The one other advantage of being an outrageous night owl? Getting the first freshly-made pastries from that cute little bakery in town, before dragging the take-out bag back to the training range with her. And raiding the dining commons right as they started to set out breakfast - a thermos of coffee, fresh fruit, bacon - Prism might've gone a little all out, but that's okay. If she's making her teammate get up at 6 in the morning, the least she can do is treat her to breakfast as well.

15
Plot Zone / Beach Volleyball!
« on: June 11, 2018, 10:05:00 PM »
In the hot, hot days of Vale’s summertime, Beacon Academy’s location on a lake lends itself well to the students who can’t seem to take the heat - or at the very least, want to show off. Combining the curiosity of someone who wants to get to know Beacon’s student population, alongside with an overwhelming amount of wealth, it isn’t particularly hard for one half of the Sundown twin’s duo to convince the staff to allow them to host a volleyball tournament on the shores of the lake. Now, beach volleyball is played in teams of two, so find a friend to team up with, and enter! Fabulous prizes await, mostly in the form of cash prizes! Alongside the tournament, multiple local businesses have been offered to set up shop alongside the beach, selling cheap (and hopefully delicious) food.

Essentially, there will be two seperate tracks with this thread - those who want to play beach volleyball, and a general social thread for anybody that wants to hang around and mingle. Just specify what you’d prefer to do! There needs to be at least four people (or two teams of two) for beach volleyball to happen, and worst case scenario if there’s uneven team numbers, the twins will enter as their own team. People are allowed to enter their characters as premade duos, or individually. You'll be assigned a random partner if you do the latter, and if it once again comes out to an odd number, then one of the twins can substitute.

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