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RPG Discussion / Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Last post by Moth on August 10, 2018, 10:38:13 PM »
Canon: A Painful Eventuality - Azre and Erza Sundown

You’re only 6, and you’re watching your twin sister literally wilt before your eyes. Daddy been gotten for the better part of a month, and you two had been left with the maids at home. He’d only just come back, and you two had rushed to greet him - only to be pushed to the side as he dropped his suitcase, barking that you were going to wrinkle his suit. He’d dropped his briefcase and had immediately gone towards the master bedroom, leaving the two of you to sit, dejected, in the entryway.

“Hey, Erza?”

“Yeah Anna?”

“What do you you think we did wrong?

“You know Daddy, he’s a Very Important Businessman.” You enunciate, repeating the words the butler had told you when he’d explained Daddy would be gone for an entire month. “I guess hugs aren’t proff- proffesh- fancy enough for him?”

Anna sits quietly for a minute, pondering the idea, before she suddenly lights up, turning to you with bright eyes. “I know! How about a tea party?”

“...a tea party?”

“Yeah! What’s fancier than that!? Daddy will definitely want to attend a tea party!”

“...I guess.” You reluctantly agree, and Anna immediately springs into action. She’s calling for butlers, ordering them to make sandwiches and the sweet drink that you two love so much. The dining room table is quickly prepared, covered in a fancy linen cloth while the maid places down silverware. Anna trails behind, her mouth running endlessly as she has her tweak the silverware just so, or how to arrange the flowers. She even doesn’t let the maids touch the fancy china she demanded with a pout, being the one to carefully place the plates onto the table, arranging all the silverware just like they taught you two - and then when the butler comes out to place cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches on the table, you can’t help but let a small smile bloom on your face.

Daddy comes back downstairs nearly 45 minutes later, dressed in a new suit and headed directly for the front door. He picks up his briefcase, and he’s opening the door just as-

“Daddydaddydaddy!”

Anna rushes your father, immediately gripping his pantleg and giving him her best puppy eyes, the ones that always get that nice kitchen made to give you an extra cookie. “Daddy, don’t leave yet, we set up a tea party because we thought you’d like it and-”

Your Dad responds by patiently jerking his leg, causing Anna to hold on even tighter. When she doesn’t let go immediately, he reaches down and grips her head, forcing her backwards off his pant leg, and she gives a small cry before she falls backwards, landing on the tile floor with an oof. You rush forwards, kneeling next to your sister, helping her lean back up as she starts to snivel, clutching the back of her head.

“Anna, not now. I’m having a very important dinner with a client in just an hour, I have no time for your silly games.”

He just leaves after that, paying no mind to the crying child floor or the fact you’re giving him your best death glare. The quiet thud of the door shocks Anna out the beginning of her crying fit, staring at the door with wide eyes as tears still stream down her cheeks. You’re less concerned about your father and more concerned about your sister, but the fact her cheeks puff out and she starts to glare at the offending wood panel tell you she’s fine. “Fine, you weren’t going to be invited anyways! It’ll just be the two of us, right Erza?”

You don’t answer immediately, helping your sister to her feet and giving her a hand as she determinedly wobbles into the dining room. “Right Anna.”

You two are quiet then, taking up seats on opposite sides of the massive dining room table. One of the maids comes out with an icepack, and Anna accepts, but she shoos them away before they can offer her any further treatment. Your twin is unusually silent as you much away at cucumber sandwiches and lukewarm tea, before she finally speaks up from her end of the table. “Hey, Erza?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“You’re not going to just like, leave me like Daddy does right? You’ll never leave me, right?”

“Yeah, Anna.”

“Promise, Erza.”

“I promise, Anna.”

Your twin seems satisfied, and she goes back to happily munching on her sandwich. You reaffirm your promise to her as you stare into her tea, thinking about how your father just discarded you two, like you were trash, like you were- were- nothing!

Yeah, you decide. You’re never going to leave her.

You’re 11, and you can’t find your sister anywhere. Father dragged you to one of these fancy charity balls, the 3rd this month, and at some point during the night your twin sister somehow slipped away from you. Which is weird in all honesty, because you two usually stick together - there’s barely any kids your age at these things, and Father usually makes you socialize with all of his older friends. They find it interesting to talk about their businesses, or fancy alcohols, or the latest women they’ve conquered, whatever that means. You’re barely noticed, except when Father calls on you to agree with a point he made, or has you stand up and spin to show off the fancy clothing you’re forced into.

Needless to say, it’s always horrifically boring, and you and Anna usually spend most of it playing Gin Rummy under the table with the pack of cards you sneak in inside the little clutch purse you’re allowed to carry.

At some point however, they’d called people onto the dance floor, and Father was drunk enough to start missing the mother you never met, and had asked for you two to go dance with him. Anna had gone first, spinning away into the crowd while you sat on the sidelines clutching a drink, before he’d whirled her off to one of his friends to dance with and come to grasp your hands. You hadn’t been worried initially until after five minutes of awkward ballroom dancing with your father, you noticed you couldn’t see Anna anywhere on the dance floor.

You’d pulled away from your drunk father with an excuse of using the bathroom, slipping away. You two always had a spot to meet up if things got too much, the handicap stall in the women’s room, where you’d hide until the ball was over, and you could find your dad to go home. Sometimes one of you crept off, and the other would follow a few minutes later to keep it on the downlow - but you always agreed ahead of time that it should happen. So by the time you finally reach the women’s room and peak into the largest stall, you see nothing but a bottle of champagne left on the floor, alongside some woman’s high heels.

Something’s definitely wrong here.

So you went wandering. Up the grand staircase that served as an entryway, checking the surrounding hallways. You’d poked your head into the other ballrooms and interrupted some fancy meeting, checked the other bathroom, and had even sprinted past a waiter carrying a tray full of martinis to explore the kitchen and servant’s passages, in case Anna had decided to go exploring for some reason.

You’d nearly given up hope of finding your sister yourself, and had started wandering back towards the ballroom to try to rouse some sense out of your drunken father when you’d heard it.

”Heeelp!”

Anna

You’d taken off sprinting in the direction of her voice, backtracking down the hallway you’d just come through, before taking a right down a hallway you know led to the coatroom. There she was, but she wasn’t alone-
The man your father had passed her off to earlier was with her. Some old businessman you couldn’t remember the name of. One of his hands was pinning hers above her head, while the other covered her mouth and noise, preventing her from yelling out again. He was pinning your sister to the wall with his bodyweight, nearly suffocating her, and- and-

And she’d looked over his shoulder, away from his face, and locked eyes with you for several terrifying seconds. She was desperate, pleading for rescue. You could yell, but nobody would be able to hear you over the ballroom music, and if you went to go get help who knows what else he might do, or where he might take her-

The terrified look of shock on your face stills as you press your lips together. You get one chance at this, and your sister is depending on you. You silently nod, before placing your finger over your mouth in the universal sign to hush, and her eyes widen in understanding before she tears her gaze from you to look back up at the old man. He’s facing away from you, pinning you to the far wall, and you’re so glad you wore flats instead of high heels today, since that means you’re silent on the carpeted floor as you approach-

And kick him between the legs from behind as hard as you possibly can.

His deep wordless murmurs to Anna suddenly go high-pitched, and he whirls around, clutching at his groin. Anna’s on the move in an instant, running towards you, and you grasp her hand as you begin to pull her away from the man, who’s too busy doubling over in pain to follow. The only thing that matters is her high-pitched “RunrunrunrunRUN” and moving as fast as your legs can carry you, bursting back out into the lobby before sprinting down the staircase, crossing the ballroom along the edge, until you can pull her into the woman’s room.

You two automatically go to the furthest stall, the handicap one. Regardless of the champagne bottle next to the toilet or the pair of high heels scattered on the floor, it’s where you two can safely sink onto the ground. It’s where Anna can curl up into a ball against the wall, it’s where you can sit next to her, and it’s where she can safely burst into tears and ruin her mascara as buries herself in your shoulder and starts to sob. She’s clinging as tightly as a bure, but you're not going to pull away - you just wrap your arms around her in return, and bury your face in her red hair, letting your own tears come to the surface as you remind yourself she’s still here, and she’s safe in your arms.

You can hear the music wrapping up outside by the time her sobbing slows and she extracts herself from your shoulder, sitting back against the cool tile to stare at the ceiling. You let her, going to fetch paper towels and wet them in the sink, before returning to the bathroom stall to start to clean up you two’s ruined makeup.

You’ve successfully wiped away her ruined mascara, but can’t quite get the lipstick stain off her dress when she finally speaks up.

“...Hey Erza?”

Her voice is quiet, restrained, careful - nothing like the bossy, arrogant, confident musician you love. You quietly seeth inside for everything that man did to her, but push it to the side for now. This isn’t about you, it’s about her.

“Yeah, Anna?”

“Don’t ever leave me.”

“I promise I won’t, Anna.”

She’s suddenly hugging you again, and you reaffirm the promise to yourself. You won’t ever leave her, ever again.

You’re 15, and in the span of a single afternoon your life has taken an incredibly new direction.

You sis- brother had come out onto the set having nearly shaved herself bald except for a dark-red fuzz atop her head. The director’s jaw had dropped, the set had gone silent, and even you had stared almost unbelieving, until you’d been dragged to the trailer your father occupied. You’d quietly sat in the corner as Father chewed him out for shaving head. You’d pulled out your scroll and cued up the first social media platform you’d come across, tagged every noisy reporter and news outlet you could think of, and had started to type out the announcement of the Sundown Twins as a brand name, when you realized you didn’t know your brother’s name.

“Hey, what’s like, your name and pronouns and stuff now?”

“Uh… he-him, and call me Azre.”

You’d added the announcement of Azre’s transition, and sent off the text to announce to the world who the two of you were now.

You father’s jaw had dropped when he read the messages, rendered speechless by the clever act of rebellion. He’d kicked you from the room, told you to get out, go anywhere, the shoot was canceled-

So you’d wandered back to your own trailer, sitting in the chairs outside as your Father argued with the director, sending orderlies scurrying as they hurried to pack up the million-dollar photoshoot that had taken the entire morning to set up.

You and Azre had been silent since that exchange. You couldn’t help yourself from shooting glances at his shaved head, still decked out in a bright-pink sundress with a bikini underneath for your “Playful Summertime” fashion line. He’d eventually caught you staring, and you’d whipped your gaze away as if stung, before you heard him heave a massive sigh-

-And it occured to you you should really make it clear you accepted him.

“So, uh- how’s your name spelled?

He turned to carefully observe your sheepish look, your usually perfectly-composed voice stuttering. He’d stared for a quiet moment, before a small smile graced his face. “A-Z-R-E. Azre.”

“...isn’t that, like-”

“Yes, yes it is. We’ve always been through everything together, and well- I doubt you’re going to leave me now.”

You spend your own moment staring, before snorting in disbelief, and then beginning to laugh. After all the stress, the tense situation, the threat of being seperated, it all boils over in an insane moment of hilarity - and after staring at you like you’ve lost your mind, he begins to crack up to.

After a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes, he reaches for your hand for the first time since you were kids, and you let him hold it. Yeah, together. You did promise after all, so it’s not just like you could leave him now.

You’re 16, and you didn’t think you’d be learning to run a business so quickly.

It had been Azre’s idea, really. A makeup line built especially to help trans youth accentuate their feminine or masculine features to help them pass more easily. He’d pitched the idea to you the day after he got his binder, when he was figuring out the best ways to accentuate his form to make him appear more masculine - facial features played a big part in passing, and the tricks he’d learned in emphasising his eyebrows or creating the outline of an adam’s apple on his throat actually really worked, letting him pass as a young male teenager. You never would’ve thought you’d hear him curse his cheekbones, but after crying frustration for the third time over a misalignment of his foundation, he’d turned to you and ranted how much easier it would be if it all came prepackaged-

And then it’d occurred to him, and even you had to admit it was kinda genius.

You had a new title, but nothing to show for it yet. The makeup line would be a perfect debut, cementing your new status as a brother-sister duo, instead of a pair of daughters to some rich entrepreneur. It’d give you a platform to stand on, but more importantly, give Azre a must needed confidence boost-

So you had agreed right away, and then started regretting it just two weeks later.

Azre might be able to dazzle the crowd with everything he did, even when the tabloids were a mess with the announcement of his transition and their brand separation from their Father, but that’s what he did best - dazzle. He was a massive extrovert, putting on a show that nobody could keep their eyes off of, with the ability to dazzle their pants off, but all glittery words were simply those - words.

You were the quick one, the clever one, the brave one. The one who’d come up with a way to keep you two together on the spot, who’d helped him locate his first binder and had spent the entire night awake after he first came out finding the best resources for someone who just came out as transgender. You’d told him off for binding with ace bandages despite his desperation, you where there to help him order his first binder, and you were with him when he went for his first doctor’s appointment, to find out how he could start on HRT, and had sat patiently in the waiting room as he spent hours with a voice coach. You’d done your best to help him grow from the shaky unsure mess he became when he first came out, to the confident, charismatic teenage idol you knew he loved to be, because he was your siblings no matter what happened, he was your brother- and you loved him, because he was all you had left in this world.

So you decided to pour your all into this.

You’d sat down with your manager and had pitched the idea, pushed it through their hesitance for such an ambitious idea after your hectic debut, but you argued that’s what your new brand name was built on - bold, bare-faced ideas. That even become your tagline. You’d collaborate with multiple makeup brands, find the cruelty-free brands ones you knew he’d prefer that still met his impossible standards. You’d reached out to the other celebrities you knew would help promote it. You’d set up the website, put out the announcement, handled question after question and meeting after meeting, where you’d organize Azre’s hastily-explained ideas into tangible realities, when he’d freeze under the judgemental gaze of your manager’s contacts while you forged ahead, all for him.

He’d had a ball of a time promoting it. TV interviews, promotional photoshoots, billboards, fan meetups - he got to dive right back into the fame he so craved, the celebrity lifestyle that you know he lived for. You let him handle that part, and resigned yourself to the seemingly endless meetings - because honestly, it was the first time since he’d come out you’d seen him smile like that. The exhaustion, the arguments, the everything - it was all worth it for that smile.

And then you’d planned the premiere.

It’d be a standard red carpet appearance. The glittering red dress you’d picked was sheer, clinging to every fragile curve you possessed, matching the black stiletto heels and the smokey red eyeshadow you’d carefully applied. The first-ever suit he wore, the one he let you choose for him, was white, but patterned with twisting golden roses, shimmering faintly in the light every which way he turned. In place of a hankerchief tucked in his pocket he’d decided on tucking a small version of the trans pride flag, refusing to let go of that piece of his identity You’d worn each other’s colors, a simultaneous announcement of independence and solidarity as the Sundown Twins had finally separated from their parent company. You two were going to flawless and perfectly in sink, ready to debut your makeup line at that night’s venue.

So when you’d stopped out of the limousine behind him, reaching to link his arm with yours as you had planned to do, only have him surge ahead to greet fans -

You’d swallowed the pang of hurt that rose up, got out of the limousine, and joined him in the classic smile-wave-selfie routine you’d perfected long ago. You let him get crowded by paparazzi, reveling in the flash of lights and the yells of his name as you stood off to the side, making polite conversation with the other celebrities who’d shown up to support Azre’s new makeup line.

...that smile was all worth it. After all, you might do everything together, but this was for him.

You’re 17, and Azre’s being an idiot.

“Hunters.” You say, your voice dripping with disbelief. He nods eagerly, and you find it necessary to fold you book up to look him square in the eye.

“Think about it, Erza! Hunters! There’s nobody more popular, no more well-respected than the hunters of Remnant! Huntsmen and huntresses are the greatest celebrities there are, valiantly defending innocent citizens from the greatest threat of humanity on the face on the planet! There’s no better way to claim fame, imagine if I- if we became hunters!”

He’s obviously excited. That devious, determined twinkle that’s been the same since childhood is in his eye, and from the way he’s bouncing in his seat it’s obvious he’s been waiting to strike her blind with this idea.

“Azre, are you sure?[/[] I mean, we’ve never gone to combat school-”

“We both know how to fight!”

“I only just figured out my semblance-”

“You punched a man through wall!”

“I only made a crater! And besides, you had those movie plans, and I’ve already lined up the director and started auditions for-”

“That doesn’t matter!”

You stare at him incredulously. He’s not kidding, he’d never kid about something like this. He’s serious. He’s completely serious.

“...which school are you thinking of?”

“Atlas is to far north and too cold. Beacon’s a solid maybe, but I’ve never been the biggest fan of Vale. Haven’s a certain possibility, but I was thinking we should go to Shade!”

“Shade? The school in the middle of Vacuo, the desert wasteland?”

Azre nods in enthusiasm. “It’s perfect, the Sundown Twins venturing into the desert wasteland to become the protectors of humanity? What could be heroic!? Besides, we both know Zanzabar would never want to step foot in such a place. ”

“...I suppose.”

Azre fistpumps to himself, giving a victorious “Yessss!” He looks back to you, giving you a grateful smile. “I knew you’d love the idea. You’d have to follow me, I just knew it! That’s the Sundown Twins to you - they do everything together, and now they get to save the world together!”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a fond smile on your face. “Sure, Azre.”

“Erza?”

You crack your eyes open, coming face-to-face with the familiar brown eyes of your brother kneeling next to your bed. You start and jerk backwards, flailing dangerously on the side of the bed for a second before you manage to right yourself. You glance towards the alarm clock on the side of the bed - 2:43 am - and sigh to yourself as you stare down your brother. “What, Azre?”

He sits back on his own bed, biting at his lip. You’re used to Azre needing your attention at all hours, you’re used to him bugging you for inane ideas and waking you up at all hours, but like- you’d just gotten back from your mission, you’d been fucking exhausted, and you had a 8:00 am exam tomorrow morning.

“I’ve been thinking, about like. Why we enrolled at Shade, and decided to become hunters, and stuff.”

“Mhm?”

“It’s… it’s hard.”

You blink at that, take a moment to consider his words, and rub the sleep out of your eyes before asking him to repeat that.

“It’s hard!”

“Well- well, what the hell did you expect, of course it’s going to be hard. We’re training to kill Grimm and save people, this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk.” It’s hard to keep your voice low and impartial, glancing over your shoulder to where your teammates slept.

“Well, yes! But-”

“Shhh. Don’t wake anyone.”

He glares at you, before dropping his voice back down to a whisper to continue the quiet argument.

“I- I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Like, we were good fighters and stuff, but it’s constantly exhausting. I barely have time to relax anymore, we haven’t gone to a premiere in months, we have to spend all our time in classes and like- I can’t do it anymore!” There’s a desperate, exhausted note to his voice, giving you pleading eyes.

You hate the fact you know he’s serious.

“Erza, I think we should just… quietly drop out. It wouldn’t be a big deal, with your PR connections you should easily be able to cover up. Ramalia probably wouldn’t miss us, I mean, I love the woman and god bless her, but-”

“No.” The words fly from your mouth without thought, without planning, just your purely instinctual reaction to the concept of leaving. “I’m not dropping out.”

Azre looks on in disbelief as he’s not only disrupted, but denied. He stares at you as if he couldn’t fathom what’s happening, opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish on dry land, before putting on his best puppydog eyes. The puppydog eyes that haven’t changed since childhood. “B-but, Erza, you promised! You’d never leave me, we’ve always done everything together, we’d always do everything together! So why the hell are you saying no to me now, of all times? What’s possibly changed!?”

“...I want to become a huntress.”

“So did I, but it simple isn’t worth all the-”

“All the what, Azre? The hard work, the hours spent studying and training and everything? What you can’t fathom doing because it’s not immediately paying off like you expected it to? Azre, I’ve spent the past 18 years doing everything you wanted, organizing and writing and creating  so you could reap the rewards and go off and celebrate the fame it brought you, and we’ve jumped from idea to idea constantly and now that I found something I want, that I can use to make a real difference in people’s lives, you just want me to quit it just like that, because you’re tired of working hard? Have you gone batshit insane?”

“Erza, I cannot believe-!”

You cut him off halfway through his high-pitched reply by rolling over and covering your ears with your pillow, effectively blocking out any argument he could muster. “Goodnight, Azre.”

Azre lets himself wilt after the sudden retaliation, giving you a pitiful look you ignore. He’s at least dropped back to a whisper, but you can tell he still wants to argue. “But Erza, you promised you’d never-”

“Goodnight, Azre.”

You lay back down, and bury your head underneath your pillow. You hear Azre whine, before the rustling of sheets signifies that he’s layed back down - and secretly, under the cover of darkness, you let yourself smile.

You were going to let yourself have this, even if it meant you weren’t always going to be together.
92
Beacon Academy / Re: Tea and Cookies [Open]
« Last post by L-Money on August 10, 2018, 09:38:26 PM »
"Hello," Greeted Leona as she turned to meet the stranger in the doorway. "It's very nice to see-" She started to say only to be cut of by noticing the smoke. "Oh not again! Please pardon me." She rushed to put her bowl that she was sturring down and pulled out the cookies. A plume of smoke came from the oven as she opened it. She coughed as she pulled the tray of questionably burnt cookies from the oven and placed it on the stove.

"Oh dear. This is embarrassing." Leona commented with a 'no hard feelings' giggle. "Um. Hello, again. It's nice to meet you." She washed her hands and extended one out for a handshake.
93
Setsuna loved getting a face full of air bubbles from Calen's hasty ascent. At least he felt his sword swing connect, though the weight paired with the water removed more than half the force he put into the attack. Following Calen's path upward albeit at slower speeds he first thrust his sword out of the water then clambered onto the ice himself, instantly shivering as his wet body felt the air of the arena.

Getting adjusted to fighting on land again he looked over to see Calen's face about to be smashed in, so picking up his sword he charged straight at Smokey from the side with no intention of concealing his attack at all. One blink at the screen depicting their aura gauges and Setsuna knew that he could sneeze on Smokey and he'd be out. Holding his sword behind him with both hands the knight executed a diagonal upward slash as soon as he was in range to do so.

Combat Log:
  ● 2-handed swing w/ Buster Sword [11%]

Setsuna's Stats:
  ● Aura: [██████████] 100%
  ● Weapons in hand: Discord [Buster Sword]
  ● Semblance: ACTIVATED - 20 SECOND DURATION REMAINING
94
Character Creation / Cole Ashton
« Last post by Krazeek on August 10, 2018, 08:17:25 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Cole Ashton

Age: 18

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol:  A light-gray compass rose with the needle facing West.

Occupation: Sophomore exchange student in Beacon Academy.

Appearance:
Cole Ashton is a teenager raised from humble beginnings on the streets. He has a lithe and athletic physique, standing 5’11” while weighing in at only 134 lbs. His tanned skin and brown eyes give him a very woodsy appearance, while his close-cropped gray hair is both practical and functional.

Many aspects of Cole’s outfit reflect his frugal nature. He always wears gray denim jeans that are fraying at the edges and a plain white t-shirt, completed with a black belt. His tonfa named Silver Screen are always held by a clip on the back of his belt, always in easy access. He also wears a gray bandanna tied around his right wrist, a gift from his mother to always remind him to do what’s right.

Cole’s demeanor reflects his life on the streets. Although he’d love to remove it to become more empathetic, he shows a scar down his left cheek from a knife attack he got as a kid. His low-pitch voice and forward walk display his determination. While he smiles and jokes when relaxed, his face shows his dedication in combat, and his catch phrase is: ‘I didn’t fight to make it this far to be taken out by a punk like you.’

History:
Cole was born 18 years ago on the rough streets of Mantle in Atlas. A child of the slums, he was raised solely by his mother, who tried to teach him respect and dignity. His mother never told him about his father, a soldier of the Atlas army who raped her during one of his drunken shore leaves. Also, he had a younger sister who died in childbirth, but haunts his sleep occasionally and he claims she talks to him.

Life was hard for Cole and his mother living in a small shack in the Skids section of Mantle. He never had much of anything to go on, and would sometimes be forced to steal food to survive. However, he never stole more than he needed, and would always remember his debts for potential future compensation.

Cole had to form a gang with some of the other boys who lived in the area, and formed two good friends in the group. Forrest was an older boy who had gone to school for a short time before his father lost his job and they had to move to the slums. Scarlet was a girl who he adopted as protector to her.

When Cole was walking through the shopping district of Mantle, he saw a report on the TVs of a group of Huntsmen and Huntresses who fended off a Grimm incursion into Mantle, and immediately knew he wanted to become a Huntsman just like them. He told his friends about it, and they thought it would be fun to form a group to train themselves.

Cole found two small lengths of pipe, with T-intersections, and made a rudimentary pair of tonfa from them. Forrest found a plank of wood and rubbed it against the bricks until he whittled it down into a crude sword. Scarlet found a wooden dowel and used it as a quarterstaff. The group would train constantly with these weapons, and they each got quite proficient in using them.

When a gang from a different part of the slums attacked them, they managed to fend them off quite well, but their fake weaponry proved no match for the knives of the other gangers. To make sure he would never forget that fact, the other gang held Cole down while the leader cut a deep slash in his cheek.

As Cole laid on the street in immense pain, his focus awakened his aura, and his wound closed up. While the scar is still there, his friends were amazed at how quickly he had recovered. Forrest helped him as time went by in teaching all he had been taught.

When they got old enough, they took a trip to Atlas Academy’s Mantle satellite campus to try out for the academy. During his dreams, he saw his sister again, and she told him that he was to be the hero of the Skids, to bring the people out of poverty and in to the working world. Upon awakening, he saw this as a premonition, and dedicated himself to the task at hand.

Cole and his friends all made it into the academy thanks to their vigilant practice as well as Forrest’s teachings. However, their class schedules were different, and they found themselves distanced in this unknown area.

Cole maintains contact with his mother by writing her from school, and occasionally passes by his friends on campus and in the dorms where they live. His weaponry teacher, Professor Rosado, took pity on him and helped him build his trademark weapons, the Silver Screen.

Professor Rosado also helped him with his studies, since Cole had no formal education. Through sheer determination and focus, Cole was able to graduate the year by acing many of his tests.

During the second year, Cole was invited to exchange places with a student in Vale. He was initially excited about this opportunity to see the other areas of the world, but the people in Vale seem to hold a distrust of the citizens of Atlas, mostly due to the economic and political climate.

However, Cole proved his effectiveness when he fended off one of the Faunus in Vale from a group of bullies. He has no negative feelings about the Faunus race, as he grew up in similar conditions. Now in his second year, he is focused on becoming a Huntsman and the hero of his home town.

Personality:
Cole Ashton is a kid living in a dichotomy of status and mentality. He truly believes that he is destined for greatness, and has forgone any other impulse or belief in pursuit of this belief. He is quick in wit and in speed, tempered with an analytical

In terms of status, he was born in the Skids section of Mantle city in Atlas, but seeks to become the savior of the Skids and raise everyone from poverty. He tries to leave his past behind him now that he’s somewhat comfortable living in the dorms, but secretly fears returning to poverty.

In mentality, he focuses on studies and scholastic pursuits, but also believes he can talk to his sister who died in childbirth. He relaxes in the stories and history of both Atlas and the whole of Remnant, as well as in practicing the katas for his tonfa.

In the quest to become the hero of his home town, Cole is not afraid of getting into combat and showing himself as a hero. In fact, he relishes being up close in combat and defending the innocent and his teammates. His moral compass shows through in his willingness to be merciful to enemies that deserve mercy and to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

Aura and Semblance: Cole’s aura is a shadowy-gray color, which sometimes hides him in the darkness.

Resonance - Cole's voice is naturally resonant and carries well through the area without being loud. However, he can raise his voice to the level of a sonic attack. This attack is useful in the fact that it is only slightly weakened by the aura of others due to the vibrations.

As it’s based on his voice, it has limited range and power. It more delivers a weak area attack than a focused single-target attack. It hits all the targets in a ten yard, 180 degree area, causing minor damage and deafness to the targets.

Limitations: Because of the projection, he has to be in front of his team to use it without affecting them that much, as he can't focus it yet. Also, using it more than four times in a day gives him a sore throat, and trying times means he could go hoarse by using it too much.

Combat Behavior:
Cole uses his tonfa to parry attacks very rapidly. Due to this and the short range of his semblance and weapon attacks, he's usually up close and personal defending his friends.

In terms of style, Cole usually uses more of an Aikido style, focusing on defense and redirecting the opponent’s attacks. A small amount of Jiu-Jitsu is also evident in the throws and trips.

Cole’s tonfa only uses small-caliber rounds in his tonfa due to the space required, and so doesn’t put out a lot of damage. Despite this, his defensive skills give him the advantage when teamed with a high damage partner.

  • Limited range on all attacks.
  • Semblance and special dust ability can only be used a few times.
  • Very low damage output.

WEAPON

Name: Silver Screen

Form: Tonfa (reference Ellie's weapon from the anime 'Rave Master' for visuals). The rods are about 18 inches long, and the grips look similar to a cross between a hilt and a pistol grip.

The full length of the rod forms the barrel of the guns, and the grips hold a clip in them that can be used for normal rounds. They also hold a smaller compartment for dust when the shield is needed. This dust can be reloaded, but it takes time to do so, and is not as quick as most other combatants.

Dust Functions: The tonfa can form a web of dust between the two that allow them to shield the user. This shield only exists for five seconds, but enough time to block a few attacks. The material of the dust is reflected in the shield (so a fire shield would burn skin, lightning would shock people holding metallic objects, kinetic repulses the attacks blocked by the shield, etc). The Tonfa holds enough dust for 6 activations of the shield function.

History: Silver Screen was built by Cole during his freshman year at Atlas.
95
Watching Sandy finally utilise his advantage of the vertical mobility his grappling hooks provided him Setsuna could only wonder why he didn't use that earlier. Either way he currently couldn't reach Sandy bar climbing and doing so would expose him to a bombardment of - well - bombs. Nor did he want to use his semblance this early into the match. In the end he settled for picking up Discord and firing the occasional shot over Sandy's head to prevent his opponent from getting too comfortable up on his lofty perch and recombining Equilibrium.

Combat Log:
  ● 4 shots [2% x 4][Spaced apart]

Setsuna's Stats:
  ● Aura: [█████████-] 96%
  ● Weapons in hand: Equilibrium, Discord [Rifle Mode][2/10 rounds]
96
WiP Characters / Re: Cole Ashton
« Last post by Krazeek on August 10, 2018, 08:07:34 PM »
Sheet is updated. I've expanded the history and appearance sections greatly, and added the weaknesses for his character. If everything looks good, I think I'm ready for approval, but I'd like the community's input first.
97
Beacon Academy / Re: Birds of a Feather [CLOSED]
« Last post by Oneroi_Builder on August 10, 2018, 07:51:18 PM »
For a split second, her weapon was moving fast, and Rook thought his plan might have succeeded. Unfortunately, the feeling dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and he saw her grip tight on the shaft, her knuckles turning white and her jaw set. She was definitely determined, he had to give her that. He jolted the blade to the side, keeping it in his grip as she pushed it forward, but causing it to harmlessly pass close by his torso.

Still, not all was lost. Even with her hands still on the glaive, Rook had a lot of influence on how she could use it, and she was still at close quarters. However, Rook's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a cool breeze against his face, rapidly followed by a howling wind that he could feel moving his entire body. 'I figured out that her semblance had something to do with wind, but this? This is-' He thought before interrupting himself. He didn't have time for tangents.

He stood firm against the wind for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut, but couldn't keep it up for very long, especially with one of his feet trying to pin down her body. Rook fell to the ground, entirely focused on keeping her weapon in his grasp. His back hit the ground with a dull thud, knocking the wind out of him, but he held his grip nonetheless. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, glancing at his opponent, now standing over him. Rook moved as quickly as he could, letting go of the glaive with one had and using it to touch the ground, causing his aura to once again solidify around him, locking him into place.

Hopefully, what she didn't know would end up hurting her. She knew he couldn't be moved while his semblance was active, and so there was no chance of wrestling her weapon from his hand, still tightly closed around the shaft. What she didn't know was that he could only keep himself locked for a fairly limited amount of time. Rook just had to hope that he could hold it long enough to accomplish what he was trying to do.

Rook's Combat Stats:
Aura: 40%
98
1v1 Matches / Re: Huntsman 1v1 bracket- Round 1: Janus Rogo vs. Budonoki Sophos
« Last post by Janus Rogo on August 10, 2018, 06:47:32 PM »
The noodly bastard stole my idea. Janus thought to himself. He'd tracked his movements across the arena, floating across the ground, ensuring Budonoki stayed opposite the lava from him. Seeing the man scamper up and crack the side of the Volcano was irritating, to say nothing else. He'd planned to crack it open, in a pinch, but Budo had beaten him to the punch, so to speak.

Then he decided to continue making the same mistake. Hey, if they're gonna give you the chance....

Janus planted his feet. He saw the staff coming. He took his front hand off the rifle, stepped sideways, focused, and with the free hand, he directed an intensely powerful jet of air into the pit of lava before him. There was enough force to peel the first few feet up and spray it across the arena. Right at Budo. If they're not gonna fall into your trap, bring the trap to them.

Action Tracker:
▫ [ACTION: Vectored Thrust.]
  ▫[DAMAGE: 2% per round. 5 rounds total. 10% possible, 4% likely.
  ▫[DAMAGE: 20% Lava Spray
▫ [PASSIVE EFFECT: None
▫ [Ammo Status: ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇(80%)
▫ [The Tyrant is in it's primary, Battle Rifle form.
▫ [Aura Status: ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇(100%)]
99
Teams / Re: Looking for a beacon 1st year replacement
« Last post by Golden Koi on August 10, 2018, 06:39:57 PM »
Before that, though, how does Kin fit in the name? Are we keeping it Team BSEK, with Kin being the replacement member, or are we changing it around?
100
Character Editing / Re: Kirkka Scarlet
« Last post by Koop on August 10, 2018, 06:16:21 PM »
Patch Notes:

  • Recent History revised to detail how Kirkka came to work at Beacon Academy, and details her position there.
  • Combat Behavior modified to reflect changes to weaponry.
    • Removed buff/enhancement functionality.
    • Detailed how Kirkka fights in close combat and when alone.
    • Added limited dust supply as a weakness.
  • Changes to Weaponry
    • Added Utility Form section, detailing how her staff is also gardening implements, a chainsaw, and an umbrella.
    • Dust Functions section rewritten.
      • Now explains dust capacities and spare ammunition.
      • Now lists all thirty-six spells Kirkka can cast with her staff.
    • Expanded Weapon History section to include more, but minor details.
  • Minor grammatical changes throughout document.
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