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Fantasy Crazy Nine [ Characters]

Aukanai

You are lost


Crazy Nine

Before you begin

Hello, hello and welcome the character sheet thread. Here are some rules to think about when creating your character.
● If you make OP Powers/Characters, I'm going to kick you.
● Detailed and paragraph format - two paragraphs is a minimum requirement.
● Character age minimum is 15, maximum is 50.
● Non-realistic faceclaims only.
● There is no maximum of characters one can play. However, as there are nine superhuman roles to fill, if you can, please do have at least two characters. Otherwise, as the GM I will fill them myself or create them into NPCs.
● One power per character - if their are different levels and stages of said power, separate each level and explain it in your character sheet.
● Powers such as; flight, floating, mind control, physical transformation, or anything technology based will not be allowed.


CS & Notes
Ultimately, the roleplay will be set most within the kingdom of Svel - however your character can originate from any three of the kingdoms. You can determine how their origins effect the characters themselves. Ideally, I just want to make this an overall fun and exciting roleplay. As a small group, I think we should all be able to collab with each other. This is a laxed roleplay, but don't neglect it (I'm counting on everyone to make it work).
Basics: Name, Nickname/Alias, Age, Gender, Role, power (if superhuman), Origin (kingdom)
Personal: Personality, likes & dislikes.
Appearance: Faceclaim, Short description
Combat: Strengths, weaknesses, power explanation & techniques, weapons & gear.
History: overview of past.
Other: include other information deemed important (Feel free to keep secrets and plans under wraps. )

Roles
● Gun For Hire [ Rustic Rustic ]
● Oracle [ Vesuvius Vesuvius ]
● Scriptwriter [ Rustic Rustic ]
● Healer [ DergTheDergon DergTheDergon ]
● Guard/Knight [ Epiphany Epiphany ]
● Royal [ Nano Nano ]
● Archeologist [ Aukanai Aukanai ]
● Thief
● Dancer/ Performer [ Aukanai Aukanai ]

Other
➙ Links:
➙ Tags:

 
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name: Amel Grand
nickname:
age: twenty
gender: male
origin: svel
power: super strength
role: archaeologist
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worked to the bone and covered in dirt on a regular basis, amel is built and most certainly bearing the appearance of the stereotypical bounty. with a mess of blonde hair and bronzed skin that he never pays any care to, he leaves his appearance as it comes. under cloth, amel has a solid and fit build, bearing clearly evident muscle definition on his arms, chest and torso. he quickly comes across as "rough and intimidating" due to having the suitable image of being a trained fighter of sorts; amel is naturally built for combat purposes. fortunately to amel's unspoken relief, he cannot grow any facial or chest hair. but, unfortunately for amel, he is most certainly a lot taller than he would like to be. through narrow ocean blue eyes, he can portray a harsh and judging persona, additionally adding to his general intimidating image. his clothing choice only adds to the general impressing, sticking with the tattered coat, wrinkled button-up shirt and old trousers. loose and rather worn it, amel seemingly has not 'clean and formal' clothes that could at all be deemed appropriate for a more proper function.
ultimately, amel just simply has no care for good impressions and ensuring his appearance is proper enough. should one judge him purely based on his looks, he wouldn't even bother to prove them wrong. rather, amel would just further support their opinions and views on him by acting the part.

hair color: platinum blonde
eye color: ocean blue
skin color: bronze
height: 6'3
markings: small scar of not particular importance, mostly on his upper body.

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open bastard // call amel a bastard all you want, he strongly supports such opinion because he know he truly is a bastard. he doesn't seem to care whether someone views him negatively or positively. however, compliments seem to go completely unnoticed by amel, simply because he blantanly ignored people's opinions, as he admits he has spent too much valuable time in the past worrying about them. though, despite his life aspiration, he is comfortable with being made out as a villain. should someone ever turn people against him, amel will ultimately decide to "become the evil the world needs".

no binds, no limits // if amel has his mind set on doing something, he will almost always go head on for it. he who has not shame, and no sense of embarrassment. amel has no wish to protect his name or his pride. there is nothing amel has to hide, he is an open book for all to read. although, that doesn't mean he will tell you everything just for the sake of it, he will certainly answer questions honestly if one were to ask about him on a more personal level.

king, of his own mountain // an air of confidence floats around him no matter how monotone he speaks and how little he talks. amel has no doubts in his mind, he knows his limits well enough to be able step into battle with a solid step forward. regardless of how other people make refer to him, he is not one that can be discouraged. should someone point out that he's doing something wrong, amel could care less, he will continue doing it his own way. however, there are an extremely rare few that amel will actually take advice and tips from - but not without his own criticisms.

till i bleed out // to say amel is loyal, is severely understated. he has an incredible sense of loyalty, should one come to earn such. death is just the finish line that amel will willingly fight towards should it be deemed necessary. no words and no actions can convince him to leave your side if you were in danger. additionally, with his loyalty comes his somewhat protective and possessive nature - although, there are only a select few who will be regarded in such a way.

second place // though despite amel's natural confidence and somewhat rude persona, he still knows better than anyone else his place. should he meet someone who he knows is of higher class, or someone who introduces themselves as such, amel is rather selective about his words. he is polite to a degree, but still improper.

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[ Early Childhood ]
- grew up in small town within svel, that was greatly devoted to the gods
- just him and his mother,though his mother worked a lot so he was on his own alot
- his mother was very religious, but amel was only loosely raised on it as his mother didn't really teach him the value of the gods.

[ Teen Years ]
- mother married a merchant who had a daughter (annarei, about four years younger than amel), and ultimately the all went travelling from town to town to sell their goods.
- got sent to a middle class school, both amel and annarei's level of education were a few years behind. though, both can write and read to a standard level.
- around this time, annarei started studying to be an archeologist. amel, though not entirely aspiring to be one, joined annarei on her studies.
- spent awhile trying to find a connection with his step father. and though their bond wasn't close, amel was just glad the man was making his mother happy.

[ Late Teens - Early Adulthood ]
- amel initially aspired to be a mercenary, but as annarei began to travel on her own, he felt he should stay back and help with selling merch.
- however, amel ended up joining annarei on her travels once she asked him.
- amel takes on sword training out of interest
- amel always chasing after bandits who tried to ambush the siblings on their travels.

[ Extra Notes ]
- Amel is engaged. He met and fell in love with a chef from Svel.
- Khalida and Amel have a student / mentor relationship. Amel being interested in becoming a mercenary.

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muscle power // Gifted with his power, Amel has a physical superiority and advantage in powerful blows and heavy weight lifting. of course, not without the necessary fitness and training.

endurance // amel has an unbelievably high pain tolerance and endurance - most likely a sub effect of his power. he can withstand most attacks and injuries without so much as a flinch. however, like everyone else, he has his limits of how much he can withstand. although, despite everything, amel has a stubbornness that refuses to surrender.

lead feat // Strength and almost unmovable like a mountain, but Amel has slow reflexes and equally as slow in speed. The more attacks landed on his, the quicker he will tire. however, in an offensive position, he can swing his sword quickly enough to hit at least a human who it's athletically fast.

welcome to super humanity // [ "thousandth" ] A forceful punch or kick from Amel can prove to deal devastating injuries. This is the first and most commonly used ability of Amel's power. It is limited to physical contact, being a punch, kick, push or bump. he still has to learn how to control her power to use it purely for combat purposes.
[ "bull" ] Oh, is there a wall in the way? Well, not anymore because Amel just ran it down with a full blown run right into it. With this sub-power, his body is stronger than an iron wall. However, Amel just has to master his timing and speed to be able to make his attempts more successful.

weapon of choice // amel is sword fighter, but his favoured style is the buster sword. he is rarely seen without. however, in the case it's being repaired, a claymore or his fists will be a good enough replacement.

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annarei grand // his little sister, and the most giddy and optimistic of the siblings. anna is full of life, that perhaps keep amel going. and though, being the younger, anna has certainly helped amel find himself, and find what he truly wishes to strive towards. annarei is always supportive and encouraging - though, of course, being siblings means they will bicker about some of the most pointless things. but, amel would certainly do anything for his sister. yet, at the same time, he does enjoy his independence without her being constantly at his side. he loves anna truly, but he is his own person.

khaladia daher //.wip
codedbymeraki.
fc: soma schicksal
note: hidden scroll on both sides
 
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name: Verona Clio
nickname: Vivi / Veevee
age: twenty-four
gender: female
origin: Tassara
power: hydrokinesis
role: performer
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locks of stunning peach blonde that cascades down her back to just the right length at her hips that is regularly brushed and carefully washed, and neatly combed bangs cut just below her eyebrows.. with her relatively scar-free ivory skin, verona bears the appearance of a petite, delicate and graceful woman, that so perfectly suits to her role as a travelling performer. verona is cautious as to avoid injuring herself all for the sake of upkeeping her appearances for the stages. from her softly rounded jawline to her thin arms and small hands, she may be often favoured for her looks, and therefore verona admittedly hold a great deal of importance in upholding her reputation. though often being called cute for her short stature, she carries an air of confidence wherever she goes, just by that determined twinkle in her chestnut eyes. ultimately, clothing also plays a part in enhancing the 'çute' feature that verona naturally has, and she often wears simple white dresses just one size too big for her.

hair color: peach blonde
eye color: chestnut brown
skin color: ivory
height: five feet
markings: none

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improv // like various other actors, verona has an naturally creative mind and strong initiative both in and out of work. it's certain the she has occasionally made a mistake on stage with her lines or act. but, being tutored under one of the most well-known actors, verona has learnt a great deal in the arts and has developed strong skills in the case of improv. even after completely stumbling over herself, she can quickly regain her composure and change the script in her own favour to get back on the right lines.

the sun shines // hopes and dreams for a bright future will never die in verona's mind and heart. regardless of how tiring and demanding her work is, she is always consistently striving further each day for the sake of herself and her fellow actors. and though she might often have kind and generous words to give to anyone and everyone, verona is one that can be quite easily overwhelmed by strong negativity, as she doesn't seem to have a strong sense of sense of standing up against it.

who knows all // verona knows how to dance, and dances well. her consistent enthusiasm about many things certainly has her coming across as bubbly and friendly, which is perhaps the main factor as to why verona has befriended so many people both from her hometown in tassara to the towns she frequents in svel and mear.

concrete heart // gentle hearted and kind to many people, verona has set the image of her being a delicate girl who can be crushed easily. of course, in a physical sense she certainly can be crushed quite easily. however, she has heart and mind that is so much more difficult to break. sheer determination and optimism for her future, she will not give up without a fight. additionally, verona carries an overwealming sense of loyalty - if she has sworn it to someone, she will continue to back them up even regardless if all they've told are lies, or they have abandoned or betrayed her. perhaps this is out verona not wanting to cut ties with anyone she might have bonded with, out of fear of the heartbreak she will ultimately have to deal with.

the lover has a line // "even the nicest people have a limit" - verona generally has patient nature and a forgiving heart, yet there is only so much she can overlook and pretend didn't happen. should someone continue to abuse her forgiving persona, she might just break and come to hate them. in the worst case, verona may even be the one cut her ties with them, should she feel like the heartbreak would be worth all the misery she might suffer from with such a person in her life.

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[ Early Childhood ]
- grew up with a single father, her mother had died by disease when she was only two years old.
- her father was the bounty collector in tassara.
- her bond with her father is very close, he's always looking out for her
- she made a lot of friends with the kids around town, but most of them moved to svel.
- used sign language until she was four.

[ Teen Years ]
- picked up an interest in theatre
- was sent to middle-class school, up to her year level's standards.
- her father took her to svel for Dranair Week when she was thirteen, got to see some of her old friends again.
- studied theatre under a private tutor, with her father's encouragement.
- managed to get a part in a minor play.
- father died when she was sixteen. of course, it was hard to cope, but was taken in by her aunt, grace clio (who came from svel after hearing about her brother's passing)
- verona wanted to take her father's place as the bounty collector, but grace encouraged her to follow her dream of being an actress.
- grace took over as the bounty collector to ensure that verona would follow her dreams.


[ Late Teens - Early Adulthood ]
- Was apart of various other plays, slowly getting her name out there and her popularity as an actress increased.
- grace would travel town to town with her until she was nineteen. thought it'd be a good time to see the world on her own, and find that independence.
- joined a theatre company that travelled through all three kingdoms.
- discovered her power in the middle of a rehearsal. almost had a panic attack. but has since accepted it and tried to learn how to control and use it. ( with some floods and other damages happening in result)
- company cut back on visits to mear, for verona's safety.

[ Early Adulthood ]
- verona's theatre company went bankrupt after the one who handled all their finances wasted it all on his drinking addiction
- so then, the group disbanded and everyone went their own way, and verona was pretty much on her own with barely enough money for herself
- so she tries to find another theatre group to join...bc acting was pretty much her only main skill that she was experienced enough in to be able to use it to make money
- ends up coming to join jacek's, after finding about them and asked to join (and maybe jacek couldn't stay no bc she was pretty? + he'd seen her in some of the plays she'd been in, and was quite popular before)

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dangerous dancer // verona's movements are quick, sharp and fluid. while she is not a front-line fighter, she is very capable of defending herself with her trained speed and agility - and with high stamina to match. with a pair of blades, verona can certainly deal some damage.

no spine // verona appears to have flexibility on her side. from seemingly getting into difficult places to doing an impressive back bend to avoid an attack, this is a natural ability that she has further trained over the years.

jelly // though verona is a fast pace fighter at most, she lacks any muscle power or strength. her punches, hits and slaps are extremely weak and would be wasted. her hands are rather soft, weak and sensitive.

primary archer // due to being generally a weak fighter, verona will most likely be on the back line, providing cover for her allies with her bow and arrow.

hydro // with the superhuman power to manipulate water, though she does have a long way to go before she can gain a more solid understanding and control over this power. She can use her power to do numerous things: create waves, create a wall of water, use a smaller amount of water for offensive attacks (though not very effective), shape water, 'lift and transfer' water, increasing the speed of a water current.

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aaron clio // The father that she loved and adored. Though he died when she was sixteen - verona is still just are happy and full of spirit before he died. The memory of her father has always kept her going. Yet, she is still tender talking about him, but has found ways to cope with the loss.

grace clio // Her aunt, that she hadn't had much to do with until her father died - mainly due to grace living elsewhere. But, verona finds grace to be a loving woman who tried her best to take care of her despite not being the greatest at doing so.

jacek wolanski // often depicted as being a mother hen of sorts toward jacek, verona clearly and deeply care for the young boy and does try to be there for him, with her support and encouragement. Though, she is not entirely an intelligent woman, jacek has often been the one to keep her out of trouble. ( verona can be very affectionate with jacek bc she adore him for reasons she can't really put into words )
codedbymeraki.
fc: sharon rainsworth
note: hidden scroll on both sides
 
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NOTHING
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the mercenary
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Khalida Daher
  • about

    .
    .
    .


    Description: Khalida, or generally just Khal, is a tall, muscular woman. She usually walks with a light stride, and wears casual, loose-fitting clothing with a leather satchel. She also sometimes dons a bright yellow coat, for which she's received the name 'Canary'.


    Name:
    Khalida Daher

    Nickname:
    Khal

    Alias:
    Canary

    Age:
    26

    Gender:
    Female
    Role:
    The Mercenary

    Power
    Protect

    Origin:
    Svel

    Height:
    5"9 / 175cm

    Weight:
    145lbs / 65kg

    empty
NOTHING
crimson tabs
BASE CODE BY SUGARVINE.
 
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NOTHING
The Scriptwriter
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Jacek Wolanski
  • about

    .
    .
    .


    Description: 'The Scriptwriter', Jacek Wolanski, is a short, slight kid with scruffy hair and wide eyes. He tries to dress cleanly but inconspicuously, usually with a pair of black gloves. It's not uncommon for him to hear that he's cute, though it's not what he'd prefer.


    Name:
    Jacek Wolanski

    Nickname:
    Jace

    Alias:
    N/A

    Age:
    19

    Gender:
    Male
    Role:
    The Scriptwriter

    Power
    Fire

    Origin:
    Svel

    Height:
    5"3ft / 160cm

    Weight:
    110lbs / 49kg

    empty
NOTHING
crimson tabs
BASE CODE BY SUGARVINE.
 
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The Knight
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Brianna Beckett
  • About

    .
    .


    Description: Brianna has the steady, strong pace and bearing of a seasoned warrior, of someone utterly confident in herself. Clad in well-made plate, chain and quilted padding, she's obviously ready for war. She customarily wears an overcoat to keep off the elements and the cold. Her sword is sheathed, carried over the shoulder, and its worn leather scabbard suggests frequent use.


    Name:
    Brianna Beckett

    Nickname:
    Bri

    Alias:
    N/A

    Age:
    26

    Gender:
    Female
    Role:
    The Knight

    Power
    Plant Manipulation

    Origin:
    Mear

    Height:
    5"7"

    Weight:
    145lbs

    empty
NOTHING
crimson tabs
BASE CODE BY SUGARVINE.
 
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We're not cynics, we just don't believe a word you say
MEREDITH LOCKE
twenty-two| female | oracle | mear

I
II
III
VI


  • appearance |
    01


    with short mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, Meredith is an unassuming figure with very little that stands out. She cultivates a deliberately bland style of fashion, and although she is always dressed immaculately, both her clothes and features are common enough to not attract any attention. Her working-class past has given her a wiry frame and hard hands, and her years as a wanderer has not softened her. She’s no great beauty, certainly, with a small mouth and an almost non-existent nose, and faint pox marks on her neck and left side of her face that she carefully keeps covered with makeup where possible.


    equipment |
    02


    She carries a lute on her back which she treats as her most prized possession (and most likely her most expensive).

    She possesses a waterskin she never seems to drink from and a few other trinkets in her belt pouch. Amongst other things, there is a long length of rope, and a flint and stone. A decoy pouch filled with only a small few coins also hangs there blatantly, while her real money pouch is stored in a pocket on the inside of her coat.

    While on the road, she also carries a bedroll, enough dry rations for a week, and warm clothes. She usually travels with trade caravans, which means she doesn’t have much reason to carry extra.

    After sunset she always carries a lamp with enough oil to last the night, or torches, or any sort of lighting she can get her hands on.





 
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filter: grayscale(0%);
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margin-top: -81px;
width: 180px;
height: calc(270px + 81px);
transition: 0.9s;
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transform: translateY(58px);
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[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]I
[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]II
[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]III
[div class=siatabcircles]IV[/div]
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[div class=siaboxapp]





Leticia Rozenberg

—can you hear my heart's roar?



[div class=siaquestion]xheightx
[div class=siaanswer]5’7” (170cm)

[div class=siaquestion]xhairx
[div class=siaanswer]Blonde
[/div][/div]
[div class=siaquestion]xweightx
[div class=siaanswer]Secret![/div]
[div class=siaquestion]xeyesx
[div class=siaanswer]Blue[/div][/div][/div][/div]Androgynous in both appearance and mannerisms, Sia can easily pass as a beautiful woman or a fine man on varying circumstances. Likewise, she cares little about presenting herself as a particular gender, though she also has no qualms about announcing that she is, in fact, female. This is most evident in her more gender-neutral style of dress, and were it not for her figure, which can be observed so long as she does not wear a cape, she’d be frequently mistaken as a prince rather than a princess.

Like the rest of the Rozenbergs, Sia sports a head of blonde hair, which she usually keeps neatly tied to the side. However, on the occasions where she’s seen wearing a gown or a dress, her hair is pinned back into a neat braided bun, giving off a much more effeminate appeal. Strangely enough, she’s seldom without her trusty sword by her side, even when in formal wear. Many have come to joke that she’ll be carrying it around even on her wedding day.

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[div class=siasider]
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[div class="siaContent siaContentBasics"]





“ hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard ”




[div class=siaquestion]xnamex
[div class=siaanswer]Leticia Rozenberg



[div class=siaquestion]xn.namex
[div class=siaanswer]Sia



[div class=siaquestion]xtitlesx
[div class=siaanswer]Sword Empress

[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xagex
[div class=siaanswer]Twenty-Two (22)[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xgenderx
[div class=siaanswer]Female[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xrolex
[div class=siaanswer]The Royal[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xpowerx
[div class=siaanswer]Fortress[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xoriginx
[div class=siaanswer]Svel[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

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[div class=siatextWrap]
[div class=siatextbox] [div class=siaheaderwrap]
[div class=siagreycircle]
[div class=siatitlewrap]
[div class=siaheadertitle]Personality[/div]
[div class=siaheadercaption]—so step on in and start moving forward[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

Born with such finely crafted features, it comes as no surprise that the third princess is a frequent recipient of marriage proposals. What puzzles people, on the other hand, is how one whose status can only denote delicate elegance can take up the sword so confidently. It’s as if the refined princess in her fine gown is a mere illusion masking the fierce lady who dons a soldier’s uniform.

Without a quaver of hesitation, Sia is as true to her ideals as the clarity of her eyes let on. Though, at times, this earnest nature can lead to conflict, she stands firm in her decisions. If she’s in the wrong, then she’s in the wrong, but if it’s a one-sided misunderstanding, any attempts to further explain herself will only add oil to the fire and hinder the person’s growth. Similarly, she does not strive to understand the tragedies of others due to the strict belief that you cannot put yourself in another’s shoes unless you’ve experienced it yourself. What seems like cold disregard at first glance is, in fact, her method of discouraging wallowing in self-pity. Her choice would be not to dwell on a past that she cannot possibly sympathize with without the use of lies but to support their present and future as a friend that exists in the here and now.

Unfortunately, this ideal of “tough love” has led to a series of rocky relationships for obvious reasons. Many have actually gone as far as to scold her for her harsh ways. However, one thing that the princess is without a doubt talented at is her ability to be as stubborn as she is firm. If it’s not something that she herself recognizes as inherently wrong, there’s quite a bit of talking involved to change her mind, though this in itself does have its positives. Furthermore, her reasons for doing so may—as hypocritical as it sounds—be a result of not wanting to see a repeat of her own past regrets unfold.

While her main aspiration is to be someone who is strong of character, Sia does not neglect the training of the physical body. A problematic battle-maniac—as described by her youngest brother himself—there are few and far between that she will outright reject a proposition to cross arms with. The moment she tastes defeat, her mature and humble character seems to take a vacation, and she’ll challenge, almost incessantly, those who have proven themselves to be superior. Though initially thought of to be a pride issue, it’s not long until they notice that it’s triggered by something much more problematic: she just thinks it’s fun and beneficial to her training.

On a more subtle note, the princess’ more princess-like traits include that of her being a romanticist in spite of her more manly character. Though questionable considering her constant, harsh rejections of numerous marriage proposals, Sia has and is fond of tales of courtly love and other such fantastic stories. However, as someone who’s ideals never seem to conform to the ordinary, she searches not for her knight in shining armor, but rather someone who can stand by her side as an equal.

[/div][/div]

[div class=siatextbox style="padding-bottom: 25px;"] LIKES

. handmade sweets
. fragrant teas
. things that are small and cute
. tales of courtly love
. festivals, sparring
. “hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard”


[div class=siatextbox style="margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px;"] DISLIKES

. prunes
. giardiniera
. insidious schemers
. those who blame everything on talent
. perverts
. the persecution of superhumans
. cold weather
. marriage proposals

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[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class="siaContent siaContentCombat"]




Sia’s sword, Lilium, has been her companion since her coming-of-age at age thirteen. It isn’t particularly decorative as it isn’t a ceremonial sword, but it’s of a fine quality and has served her well over the years. She cares for it as an extension of her own self, and it’s said that she considers her own dishonorable practices as actions which sully the purity of purpose of the blade.



Sia05.jpg


+ sword empress
Despite being female—and princess at that—Sia’s swordsmanship is known to be one of the best in the entire kingdom. Though part of it is due to her upbringing and innate talent, most of her skill is attributed to her being a battle maniac as well as protecting her honor. Being of royal blood, Sia is subject to arranged marriages, but her father has agreed for her to set one rule: any who wish for her hand in marriage must first prove their strength over hers. The title of “Sword Empress” was not bestowed upon her frivolously, and she’s proven that forcing her to cast away her blade is a difficult task time and time again.

+ first flower
Evident in her usual manner of dress, Sia isn’t one to follow the stereotype of a damsel in distress. Even when the situation is looking grim, her tenacity drives her to fight back within an inch of her life, whether it be in combat or in politics. She may be waiting for her knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet, but she’s battle hardened to know that most of the time, you’re better off being your own hero.

+ action analyst
Years of rigorous training have tempered not only her body but also her eyes. Since her body can only react to swift and unexpected movements to a certain extent, Sia has trained herself to be capable of reading ahead of her enemies by studying the slight movements of their eyes, muscles, and more. Is their intention her foot? Aiming for her side? A feint? Whatever the case, as long as she can see their goal beforehand, it’s much easier to prepare for the actual action. Unfortunately, her technique isn’t yet flawless.




Sia06.jpg


- anti-foulplay
Every virtue comes with a price, and Sia’s honesty in battle is no different. Her willfulness demands a clean fight—even if it only pertains to herself—and a foul will convince her that she lacks discipline. No matter what treachery is thrown her way on the battlefield, she continues to fight with her straightforward ways. Though her skill in swordsmanship and clever usage of her ability makes her a formidable fighting force nonetheless, being a little less stickler about her ideals would lead to battles much more easily won and fewer lost.

- limited range
Sia’s barriers only have an effect within a set radius from her. If she wishes to shield someone, she must be standing right by them in order to get full coverage. It isn’t uncommon for her to muse about how she wished her ability were a bit less selfish…

- swordsman at heart
Though Sia is exceptionally skilled with the sword, her ability to fight back without one is quite poor. If she happens to be unarmed or disarmed she can only resort to making use of her ability to find an opening to flee at best. Even then, there’s little she can do to retaliate against an assailant. Lately, she’s taken an interest in unarmed martial arts, but she has yet to receive formal instruction on it.



[div class=siatextbox style="margin-top: 25px;"] [div class=siaheaderwrap]
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[div class=siaheadertitle]Ability

[div class=siaheadercaption]—i've made up my own reason[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

Sia’s ability, which she refers to as “Fortress”, allows for her to form barriers of all shapes and sizes. Though a defensive ability, Sia has experimented with the ability over time to make use of it in a variety of ways, making it a utility skill of sorts.

The most basic and frequently used technique of this ability is that of forming sigil-like shields. Though it initially drained her of her energy rapidly, Sia’s training has managed to control this steep decline in stamina by regulating the size and density of the shield. As a result, careful calculation of the impact of the incoming attack is required, as too much will waste needless amounts of energy while too little will result in the shield breaking under the force of the blow.

Additionally, Sia has comes to apply other creative uses of these sigils. Since their structure is solid, it’s entirely possible to kick off of or even use one as a platform of sorts. This has allowed for her to achieve feats such as blocking an attack before using the shield to deftly flip behind her opponent or reaching a platform that’s too high up or too far by using multiple in succession like a staircase. However, her shield are not moveable once summoned, so she must take note of positioning or summon a new one accordingly.

Based on this basic shielding ability, Sia can form an isolated dome of sorts with the sacrifice of a hefty amount of energy. Neither sound nor physical and magical forces can penetrate the barrier—unless said impact is stronger than her shield—leaving a small area completely protected, which is where she derived the name “Fortress” from. Due to how draining this ability is, Sia cannot move while the dome is active and can currently only put it to use roughly once per day.

Though the trademark of her ability is plain for the eye to see, the third basic application of Sia’s ability deals with invisible walls, much like the one unconsciously summoned when she first discovered her ability. Though they ripple and reveal their location once touched and are more difficult to maintain, their use comes in the fact that they’re about as obvious as the cleanest pane of glass. They may be fragile, but it’s enough to deter free movement or trap the average human being. That said, its use is rather sparse as she finds playing with her opponents rude and it isn’t the most easiest to maintain.

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Sia’s dearly beloved, though not in a romantic sense. Despite being of opposite genders, the twins were said to look remarkably alike when they were younger, to the point that their own parents had trouble telling them apart. Though he, in the end, ceded his rights to the throne to his younger brother, his reason for allowing for Sia to continue her charade was due to his understanding that she’d blame herself to death otherwise, and his twin has long come to understand that.





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[div class=siasliderbg2]
[div class=siaaccslide]






The current Crown Prince of Svel. At first, Sia regarded her youngest sibling as yet another person aiming to usurp the throne. Their relationship, however, has been patched up since Soh’s departure, and the princess has managed to scrap her biased image of him, much to Setz’ relief. Though unknown to Sia, the prince bears a considerable amount of admiration towards her strength and loyalty and works towards gaining her approval. Unfortunately, the princess still seems to only view him as a snot-nosed—but still lovable—brat who copied her hairstyle. His favorite phrase from her is “hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard.”




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The relationship between the eldest and third princesses is undoubtedly tense. Though they pass by each other with cold disregard, Daphne sees Sia as a thorn in her side while the latter despises her older sister as the person responsible for the poisoning incident sixteen years ago. Sia’s stubbornness about achieving her goals through clean methods can be said to stem from the aforementioned enmity.




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Sia considers her second eldest sister to be a cold beauty. Though they do not interact frequently, their relationship isn’t particularly sour. There’s honestly little that most know about the second princess other than the fact that she spends hours upon hours in the royal library, reading. Surprisingly, Feris is actually the person who suggested for Sia to require her suitors to win against her in a duel if she hated it that much.




[/div]
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[div class=siasliderbg5]
[div class=siaaccslide]






wip/ Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi ligula risus, semper non purus in, euismod malesuada velit. In ultricies maximus auctor. Nunc et tortor auctor, auctor arcu sed, faucibus eros. In a pretium diam. Nulla ante nibh, vestibulum vitae sodales id, sollicitudin eu orci. In non augue sem. Etiam quis accumsan leo. Mauris tempor finibus porttitor. Curabitur euismod ante ut finibus interdum. Aenean quis metus fringilla orci aliquam bibendum a ac ante. Phasellus at diam volutpat, volutpat tortor vitae, eleifend enim.




[/div]
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[div class="siaContent siaContentExtra"]

[div class=siatextbox style="margin-top: 0;"] [div class=siaheaderwrap]
[div class=siagreycircle]
[div class=siatitlewrap]
[div class=siaheadertitle]Extras

[div class=siaheadercaption]—i'm smiling with you here again[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

01. improper
The silver knife that Sia had used to cut her hair back when she took the oath is actually a gift that had been given to her by her father. When looking back on it, she actually now considers that action to have been highly inappropriate and regrets it to a certain extent, even if that happened to be the only knife that she had in her possession. However, she does not regret burying the knife with her brother due to the reasons behind it.

02. poisonous flower
In reference to her being responsible for the poison incident, Daphne was named with the intention of being named after a poisonous flower. All parts of the flower contains toxins, though the greatest concentrations occur in the bark, sap, and berries.

03. unconventional
Against those she’s fought against, Sia is noted to utilize a sword style that’s somewhat unpredictable and difficult to defend against due to her unconventional left-handedness, a fact that’s noted from the moment her opponent observes the side that she wears her sword on. Incidentally, she taught herself to be ambidextrous, since her brother, Soh, was part of the righty club.

04. big eater
Whether it be due to all the exercise she does or the fact that she’s gifted with an ability, it’s widely known among her family members that Sia has a black hole for a stomach. She has enough manners to refrain from devouring plates of food at once, but after an hour of casual chatter over lunch, it’s difficult to notice the overwhelming stack of plates neatly placed to the side. Most, however, don’t have the heart to comment, though their silence could also just be from the shock of seeing evidence of how much she’s eaten despite appearing to have eaten little and at a steady pace.

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SiaEx01.jpg




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— code by Nano Nano
 
Last edited:



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[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]I
[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]II
[div class=siatabcircles style="margin-right: 7px;"]III
[div class=siatabcircles]IV[/div]
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[div class=siaboxapp]





Einsel Eraclerius

—at first we're never willing



[div class=siaquestion]xheightx
[div class=siaanswer style="color: #999999;"]5’9” (175cm)

[div class=siaquestion]xhairx
[div class=siaanswer style="color: #999999;"]Ash Blonde
[/div][/div]
[div class=siaquestion]xweightx
[div class=siaanswer style="color: #999999;"]139lbs (63kg)[/div]
[div class=siaquestion]xeyesx
[div class=siaanswer style="color: #999999;"]Ice Blue (R), Black (L)[/div][/div][/div][/div]At a glance, it’s difficult to make out any defined features from under the heavy cover of Eins’ cloak. Where he chooses to lay his hood to hang low over his eyes, he’s quite literally covered from head to toe and even to his fingertips, leaving only an ash blonde fringe and the pallor of his lower visage in view. Were it not for the strange design of his outer garments as well as the faint tinkling of a bell produced with every turn of his head, it’s plain to say that he’d be difficult to discern from any other similarly dressed individual.

During moments which he feels less of a reason to hide his face, Eins’ hood is perched much more loosely on the top of his head or even lowered completely. Most noted for his asymmetric appearance, the first feature that a person’s gaze is drawn to is the icey discoloration of his right eye compared to the dull onyx of his left—a subtle indicator that he’s blind in his right—and perhaps, in conjunction, the mole situated under the former.

In spite of his odd eyes as well as his status as a mercenary, Eins as a whole sports a rather modest appearance that fails to present himself as much of a fighter. He’s neither lanky nor particularly muscular, and his height can be said to be on a similarly average level. With no visible weapon on hand either, it’s easy to mistake him for a civilian with a weird fondness for travelers’ clothes.

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“ a man who is too careful of danger lives in continual torment ”




[div class=siaquestion]xnamex
[div class=siaanswer]Einsel Eraclerius



[div class=siaquestion]xn.namex
[div class=siaanswer]Eins



[div class=siaquestion]xtitlesx
[div class=siaanswer]N/A

[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xagex
[div class=siaanswer]Twenty (20)[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xgenderx
[div class=siaanswer]Male[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xrolex
[div class=siaanswer]The Charlatan[/div]
[/div]

[div class=siaquestion]xpowerx
[div class=siaanswer]Roundsight (false)[/div]
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[div class=siaquestion]xoriginx
[div class=siaanswer]Tassara[/div]
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[div class=siatextWrap]
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[div class=siaheadertitle style="position: relative; z-index: 2;"]Personality[/div]
[div class=siaheadercaption]—your love is covered by an expressionless mask[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

Tacit but thorny, Eins establishes from the beginning that he’s not the most pleasant company to have around. As someone who thinks of camaraderie as a burden rather than a strength, the walls he builds between himself and another are evident. Even the most persistent of personalities will find themselves quickly stonewalled with the addition of venomous words being hurled at their face, like an ill-tempered cat.

Though his ire is easily determined by the selection of his words, it is otherwise rather difficult to tell what he’s thinking purely based on facial expression. His countenance seldom changes, and, as a child who’s grown up to keep his emotions to himself, asking directly won’t bear much fruit, either. It’s as if his “self” is a closely guarded secret, though saying so is not quite so far from the truth.

A thorough cynic, he seems to honestly believe that there isn’t a single decent human being alive, himself (naturally) included. In summary, he lives with the philosophy that every man is only out there for himself. When shown kindness, he immediately grows suspicious of ulterior motives, and he freezes at honest compliments before asking what their goal in saying so is. Likewise, his loyalty is hard won, to the point where only a single (plus a half of a) person holds even just a modicum of his trust to this day. Even then, he distances himself from the side of those he holds dear, not out of distrust not of the person, but of himself, all while using work as an excuse.

His prickly side aside, his personality is best understood as the type which keeps to itself and does not bite unprovoked. Though he is a mercenary, Eins is, surprisingly, a pacifist. Nothing will come out of confronting others without a good enough reason. Worst of all, it wastes effort and energy that would be better spent elsewhere. Of course, this manner is not always a positive, considering that his blunt personality and unwillingness to make smalltalk is attributed to it.

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[div class=siatextbox style="padding-bottom: 25px;"] LIKES

. simple rice-based dishes
. cats
. finding old books in random corners
. fixing worn book bindings/spines
. libraries with old books
. earthy fragrances
. pianos
. slim fingers
. glass or crystal that refract light
. the tinkling of a bell


[div class=siatextbox style="margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px;"] DISLIKES

. being approached from his blind side
. summer months
. pungent smells
. people who are noisy
. people with no sense of space
. people who spit when they talk
. (basically just people in general)
. himself
. wasting energy
. dogs

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While they may not look like much, the black gloves that Eins is almost always seen wearing are actually specially fortified and plated. They are capable of gripping sharp objects of lesser impact and the back of the gloves are guarded to provide further protection against stronger slash attacks. However, as they are still a mere pair of gloves, heavier swords and stabs are better off being dodged or diverted altogether.





Poisons are Eins’ specialty. Specializing in neurotoxins and sleep-inducing agents, his aim typically chalks up to wearing his targets down before the fight drags on for too long. Consequently, a vast majority of the poisons he carries aren’t lethal, especially not in the amounts that he typically administers. Those that are—and for some of those that aren’t as well—are carefully matched with an antidote for situations where something goes awry. His most common method of poisoning are via the use of needles or knives specialized in storing and coating themselves in said poisons and gaseous solutions. Several poisons are usually hidden on various parts of his body at once.



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+ reflexes
Eins’ reflexes are as sharp as a finely polished knife. Though his right eye is completely devoid of sight, it never seems to make much of a difference which side he is struck from (ignoring his slightly more violent reaction when approached from the right), and his perceptiveness towards other such sneak attacks are just as keen.

+ retentive memory
Though he may not always remember names, Eins has been noted since small to have the ability to easily remember and recognize things such as which plants are poisonous to eat. More often than not, he identifies objects through their scent. People—especially those of whom he’s met only once—will usually be recognized through their scent, voice, and manner of walking. Faces tend to be of lesser note, it seems.

+ poison specialist
Over the years, the hellish training regimens of his mentor have shaped Eins into a strict energy conserver. If he can help it, he’ll end any confrontations as quickly and efficiently as he can, which is where he puts his knowledge on poisons to use. He’s put years of study into what poisons to use and the best ways to apply them from inhalation to dermal absorption and has even built up a resistance of sorts to many types as preventative measures. Due to his immunity to a majority of the poisons he has on had, he can also safely drink or eat poisoned drinks and food to lower a target’s guard.

+ shield of apathy
Bribing or threatening Eins proves to be futile more often than not unless you have a certain animal by your side with no escape routes present. He lacks the greed that the stereotypical mercenary is notorious for, and his sense of self-preservation can be said to be a bit off. That said, there aren’t many that can manage to gauge the things he wants or fears upon the first, second, or sixth meeting.




Eins07.jpg


- pacifist
His occupation may state otherwise, but Eins is almost never the aggressor. He sees little gain in petty scuffles unrelated to his work, and if he can help it, he’d rather not get involved in a confrontation at all. Though he will not turn tail and run, he will ignore challenges that he can avoid, stating that he dislikes troublesome things. As they say, the first strike is the most crucial, and from time to time, even Eins may find himself being caught off-guard.

- wayward soul
If it’s a team player someone is looking for, they might wish to look elsewhere. Cooperation is a foreign concept to Eins, and the only reason why he’d even be there is if his goals or whims happened to coincide with theirs. Even then, he won’t be so keen as to follow orders, instead choosing to follow his own set agenda. His cynical viewpoint of people doesn’t seem to help this case at all. Additionally, fighting alongside allied company handicaps him in that his usage of airborne poisons are restricted to those that he has provided an antidote for beforehand.

- hay fever and colds
Though his immune system isn’t particularly fragile, it isn’t invincible and allergies are his worst enemy. Compared to the average human being, a mere runny nose and muffled hearing can be debilitating enough to have him comically tripping over obstacles and bumping into people left and right. While he chalks it up to poor eyesight, the cause behind his disorientation is actually the unsettling feeling of the subconscious fear brought about by his dependency on his other senses.

- fear of dogs
Due to several incidents during his early childhood, Eins developed a lasting fear of canines. Though it isn’t always evident on his face, a dog of any size or shape will cause him to freeze in place. His disgusted expression tends to cover up his fear as a strong dislike for dogs, but once he gets his legs working again, he won’t approach within a five meter radius of one no matter the circumstances. For obvious reasons, he isn’t so keen on revealing this fact.



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[div class=siaheadercaption]—as you fail to notice your armor is keeping you trapped[/div]
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Though lacking in raw offensive power, Eins’ ability proves to be extremely useful in that he can “see the unseen” like a sixth sense of sorts. Back attacks oft turn out futile, and navigating through the dark is like child's play to the man. In modern terms, he’s like a human radar. Needless to say, the ability does come with its own unique set of flaws...in that it is not an ability at all.

Despite its convincing utility, Eins’ “roundsight” has a suspiciously high rate of failure for an ability, though most will chalk it up to unfortunate limitations or a lack of experience. In truth, this ability is merely a fabrication developed and brought about by a personal autosuggestion triggered by his insecurities. Its method of existence is extraordinary yet, at the same time, still conforms to the limitations of humanity.

Regarding its functionality, Eins’ sensory capabilities is caused by the subconscious, rapid compiling of various forms of sensory information to derive and infer other information such as the identity of an object or person or the number of enemies located on the other side of the wall. Merely the sound of one’s breathing, their scent, or the feel of their body heat is enough for him to detect and at times even identify an intruder from a distance or in poor visibility. This is made possible only through Eins’ impeccably keen senses and intuition as well as his superior hyperconcentration, which, in itself, should be a feat to be proud of.

Eins’ pseudo-ability remains inferior to a true ability in that he cannot cross the boundaries of the natural senses. He cannot “see” specifics such as colors and patterns, and if it is something his five senses cannot perceive, it might as well not be there to him. If any of his senses are blocked or deterred, whether it be a soundproof room or damage to particular points on his body, he’s just about as good as a completely ordinary human. This weakness, once realized, can prove to be fatal. Though he does not rely heavily on sight, damaging his ears—even just enough to cause minor tinnitus—may result in a disturbance or perhaps severely impair his ability to detect whatever is coming his way. Additionally, a room filled with strong scents such as heavy perfume or incense will likewise render his sense of smell useless.

The less obvious of Eins’ setbacks lie in his hyperconcentration itself. Though useful in situations which require intense cerebral activity pivoting around a central focal point, other instances may prove it to be an interference as well. As his ability is passive in that he does not—or forces himself not to—realize what he is doing, he may appear to be dazed from time to time, and his attention may stray towards useless information such as the number of times someone has blinked or exhaled within the past minute, requiring an outside influence to jarr him back to proper attention.

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This blind ex-knight from Svel is Eins’ mentor, sole confidant, and surrogate father all in one. Though Eins continues to refer to him distantly as “Beckford”, he is the sole person he trusts (to a certain extent), and the prickly cat's demeanor noticeably mellows in his mentor’s presence. However, the more precious one is to him, the more he rejects them. As the one who understands him better than Eins does himself, Beckford minds this purposeful estrangement greatly but knows that nothing he says or does will ever have any sway. His alternate course of action? Continue with his “tough love” approach. In his own way, he lets his protégé know that he still has a home no matter the circumstances.





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Eins’ only friend(?), though most guild members will agree that it’s “self-proclaimed best friend” on Mihalis’ part. Having been brought to the guild at around the same time and being of similar ages, the two were frequently paired together and naturally expected to get along. There are, afterall, very few children within a mercenary’s guild.

Though his surname means warrior, Mihalis has always had poor combative capabilities, making Eins responsible for (trying his best in) keeping him out of harm’s way. In return, Mihalis taught the latter how to read and tell the difference between potions and poisons among other things. However, Eins continues to refer to their relationship as an “unwanted partnership” out of distaste for the older boy’s penchant for acting frivolously playful. Mihalis never seems to miss a beat regardless of the thorny words sent his way and somehow manages to continue with his aggressive pursuit of a close friendship.





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The relationship between the two was charged to the very end. As a bitter woman who disliked children in the first place, Eins’ aunt could never spare a shred of sympathy towards the burden she was tossed. To this day, Eins finds himself unable to recall having held a single proper conversation with her, much less replied to her with anything other than “sorry”. She is one of the primary reasons for his reluctance to speak.




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[div class=siaheadertitle]Extras

[div class=siaheadercaption]—but i want to pull out the faint voice within your feelings[/div]
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01. grudge?
Perhaps due to his small, soft appearance and timid air as a child, Eins was initially mistaken as a girl by Mihalis. A compliment to the colors of his eyes and a failed flirting session later, six-year-old Eins was sent crying to Lehrer out of embarrassment. He’s held more than just a bit of a grudge ever since, to the point that Lehrer himself jokes that Eins refuses Mihalis’ gestures of friendship due to that incident. Well, first impressions are important, right?

02. names
Eins’ name was originally meant to mean “1, 2, 3” with each number rendered in a different language. The idea was scrapped in the end, and the nickname “Eins” is the sole remainder of it.

03. not-a-bookwork
Based on his peculiar hobby of browsing through old libraries and repairing worn books, it’s natural to assume that Eins is a major bookworm. However, he is not a particularly avid reader (that’s Mihalis’ job) and doesn’t finish half of the books he picks up. The atmosphere of libraries are comforting, and he finds the handling of books relaxing, or so he claims.

04. left-handed
Resulting from being blind on his right side, Eins is naturally left-handed and completes a majority of tasks predominantly with his left. This is actually yet another reason why his aunt (and some others) looked down on him as a harbinger of misfortune.

05. careless
Though he’ll never admit it, he’s accidentally poisoned himself several times while he was still in training. It’s due to such incidents that he took it upon himself to build up his resistance to poisons.

06. bell
The bell earring hanging from his right ear was a graduation gift from Mihalis. Due to its sensitivity to movement, the bell often alerts the more attentive people with its faint ringing, but it, along with the sense of airflow and the like, aid him in detecting obstacles in poor visibility.
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— code by Nano Nano
 
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Name: Virgil Raune
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Role: Healer
Power: Hypersensing
Origin: Mear

Personality:
The young man's most common mannerisms are a odd mix of politeness, kindness, and a perhaps surprising amount of eloquence somehow coexisting with self-absorbtion, obsessive-compulsion and a tendency not to speak up all that often. This can put off some, but to many others it tends to be quite endearing, sepcially if given time. Despite his minor difficulties with communication, it is clear that he very much wants to and strives to be friendly with everyone as best he can. He tends to hover around the people who he likes the most for one reason or another, unless something catches his interest or he must be alone for whatever reason. Regardless, he is one of the most loyal friends one can ever meet.

Whilst he tends to be quiet, when speaking to him it will soon be clear that he knows much about many things, from flora and fauna to people and places to how this, that and the other thing works, in intricate detail. He's passionate about it all too, to the degree that it's hard to stop him once he's coaxed out of his shell enough to really talk. He is an exceptional listener on the flipside of this; if one needs another to lend an ear, he's the one to talk to. He's got just as eager a loving heart as an intellectual mind, craving the opportunity to aid others whenever he can.

However, there is another side to him that comes out when Virgil witnesses acts of heartless evil. The curious, warm-hearted young man will often become the evil he sees until he no longer sees them as a threat. One does not hurt Virgil's friends, as far as he is concerned, or they will pay.

Appearance: Atop his head sits a constantly-messy mass of short black hair. His facial features are soft; one would be more likely to call him "cute" than "handsome". His figure is lithe, yet thin and not all that strong. Dominating his usual attire is a clear disregard for fashion; he nearly always wears a now-worn robe that's just a little large for him. The pockets of it are always bulging with the things he tends to carry around, from pouches and jars for the storage of herbs and medicines to first aid and survival supplies. Underneath the cloak, he tends to wear am assortment of plain shirts and trousers, complete with a pair of worn brown boots.
Combat:

Strengths:

Quick mind, quick body: Virgil is a swift one, quick with his hands and feet and nearly always on his toes in any sort of tense situation, dagger at the ready and mind sharp as a tack. He may not have survived two years of wandering on his own if it were not for this part of him, which is a bit different than his usual self.

Blade dancer: his only weapon at the bieginning of his journey away from home having been a simple dagger, he'd learned to use it well then went and bought himself a new one when he could, then another, practicing dilligently every day.

Field Medic: Even in the heat of battle, if a comrade needs patching up, he can use his ability to be quick yet careful enough to stabilize even a dying friend should he have what's neeeded on hand.

Weaknesses:

frail body: One of the largest drawbacks of spending one's life studying many schools of intellectual thought is that the body tends to weaken as the years go by. If he isn't careful, he could be injured far easily than the average person.

self-sacrificing: he tends he put himself on harm's way for a friend in danger, not considering the risk beforehand.

distractable: If a lot is going on during battle, the goings-on could distract him and leave him open for a moment or two.

Power: hyper sensing: He can become so aware of everything physical for a short time that he can detect the smallest details in whatever he chooses, and can also predict movement a good second or so before it happens, and react immediately. He also uses for his healing. He's trained in medicine and can discern most ailments in seconds using the power, and near-instantly know exactly how or if he can help the person.

There are two sunstantial drawbacks, though, namely his inability to keep it going for more than a few moments in a tense situation, and a limit that keeps him from using it more than 5 times or so. When there isn't a lot happening around him, however, he can hold focus for several minutes at a time, which can be extremely useful.

History:
From a young age, it was clear to the only child's parents, his mother a Nurse and his father an artist, that he was... different. He tended to be fascinated with small details as a toddler, and developed walking and speech at a slower rate than others. He also grew up with quite a few difficulties making friends with the other children in the small village he lived in. Despite this, however, he was mostly content; especially when he focused on the things he liked to do and learn about. He loved having a book in his hands, as well as helping his mother with her work. He became quite proficient early on at making medicine; there was something about making things that relieved pain or even cured a disease from plants that utterly fascinated him. He was even more happy when in the company of the few other children who'd gotten closer to him and saw him for who he was: a kind and intelligent boy who could certainly hold a decent conversation, in the right circumstances. Still, it was clear to all that he inhabited a mental world all his own, nine times out of ten. However, many other children ricuclued him, causing him great pain. He'd always felt oversensitive, and everyone in his life deemed hat as a trait he needed to "work on," even his parents.

It was not until he was 21 and a full-fledged nurse working under his mother, at a fateful moment after having learned to assimilate with others very well for the last few years, that the thing that was truly special about him was revealed.

The village was burning; a forest fire out of control. Virgil ran as fas as he could up the stairs to his house, everyone else having evacuated. Everyone but his mother. He had to save her.

Something strange happened as he entered the smoking building; though the smoke filled his vision and caused him to cough even as he held his overlarge shirt sleeve up to his mouth, the crackling of the fire filling his ears, he still clearly heard the shouts of his father and various other villagers telling him to come back. He also heard, after a moment, weak cries of help from the other side of the flames in his one-story house. It wasn't just the sound, either; he vividly saw exactly where the flames were spreading as he bolted through, and somehow felt he knew where to step in order to not get caught up in the rapidly-spreading fire, and he smelled his mother's perfume even over powerful smell of burning wood. Long story short, he miraculously rescued his mother from that building utterly unscathed. Everyone was overjoyed, at first, but afteer things calmed down, the dead were mourned and the rebuilding began, the people of the village began to be suspicious, worried; even his parents. There was clearly something else "special" about him, and rumors about him being a Witch spread like wildfire, simply because the fire seemed to have been laid by a witch. No one pegged the kind boy as the one who'd ever set the fire, and he didn't of course, but after that the were certainly more suspicious of everyone that seemed... off, especially in a way that almost seemed magical. As Virgil was the only one in town who fit that description, it was only a matter of time before his efforts in understanding his ability better and then using it to help others backfired on him, prefaced only by others confusingly shying away from him the more amazing, helpful feats he completed for the townsfolk. The medical miracles he completed, despite having much less experience than his mother, was as concerning to the townsfolk as it was greatly appreciated.

Long, sad story cut short, the townspeople had decided after a few months of clear broadening in the amazing things he could do with his power that it was time to rat him out to the authorities before an official Witch Hunt came thier way. Virgil, his senses having grown passively sharper as well, overheard his parents speaking with the mayor one fateful day when he went to check in on them and realized they'd been out of the house longer than they normally would be. Once he grasped that the mayor was trying to convince his folks to more or less send him to his death, he was overcome with emotion and fled, knowing no other alternatives and not wanting himself nor his loving family to suffer for it; it seemed like the only true solution at the time.

So, he set out on his own. The first few months were unbearable, but survival was not the issue; he was intuitive enough to survive on his own for certain. The pan of understanding, finally, what had been causing so much distance between himself and everyone he knew was what made it difficult.

After a while of wandering, his natural curiosity overwhlemed all else, at least for most of the time, and he set about exploring the world, learning as much as he could. He knew not where it all would lead him, but hopefully, to a better place than he'd have gone should he have stayed in his hometown that day...

After a while, his gifts and penchant for helping those in need made for a natural progression towards becoming a rather sought-after healer in Svel, the oung manfamous for travelling around and bringing medical attention to those who needed it most once he'd come out of his shell, oftentimes large amounts of ailed indiviudals flocking to him once it was heard that he was in town. This had led to a rather fulfilling life with more and deeper friendships than he ever had back home. His life was about to change drastically again, though, little did he know, by the hand of eight other fated individuals from many different backgrounds.
 
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[div class=greyscale]
11.jpg
name
ASTER DUFREUSE
age
TWENTY FIVE
gender
MALE
country
SVEL
n.name
PLEASE DONT
role
THE THIEF
ability
SLEEP INDUCEMENT
show me how to lie you're getting better all the time fff
appearance
[div class=scrollhidden]With delicate features and an elegant poise, Aster, according to his mother, represents the ideal of the Dufreuse family - a scholar, not a fighter. Unfortunately for his mother's ambitions, Aster was neither an acceptable scholar nor accomplished in combat. It's evident that he has never had to complete a day of honest work in his life, his hands not even marked by writer's callouses. In his independent years, he has grown his blond hair out to be rakishly long, nicely accented by his light grey-blue eyes, but otherwise has changed very little since he was twenty.

Not accounting for change in taste of clothing, of course. His parents would most likely not recognize him now if he appeared in his ruffled, exceptionally gaudy clothes. he has all of one trenchcoat that was actually made to be just practical rather than eye-catching, although he occasionally buys higher quality clothes - and resells them at earliest convenience.

and turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach fff
personality
[div class=scrollhidden]meticulous // Aster is not the most careful when it comes to speaking to people, but he as a scholar, an artist and a forger, possesses a steady hand and an obsession for details when it comes to cold hard facts. Despite all his other failings, he's not a person to leave a task half done - if he gets started in the first place. His attention to detail and his pedanticalness means he is prone to overly long speeches to explain one single mistake.

educated // He's had tutors for most of his childhood, and even though he was prone to tuning them out, his teachers managed to wrangle some learning into his brain at the very least. While he may be ignorant about common facts of life, he's pretty knowledgeable about geography, astrology, arithmetic and history, among other subjects that allows him to pretend to be of a class higher than his current situation decrees.

tactless // The boy has never learned to install a filter between his mouth and his mind, leading him to blurt everything out before considering whether it would offend the present company. As a result, his talent for smoothing ruffled feathers comes into use frequently, as does his self-depreciating sense of humor.

vindictive // Aster isn't easy to offend - his affable nature means he sees most things as good-humored pokes at his weak points, but he doesn't let his grudges go, ever. He isn't likely to act on it, and at most he'd bring it up every time afterwards he meets with the subject of his ire, but he will do his best to passive-aggressively ruin their social life. for the rest of his life. As a rather trusting person himself (though it wouldn't be a great idea to trust him), he finds it deeply hurtful that someone might want to betray him, and will seek revenge in anyway possible. Passive-aggressively, of course.

mimic // Being less than an adept at social interactions himself, Aster has a tendency to copy the most obvious traits of a popular individual, in fact, he exaggerates them slightly. He is able to pull off a fairly decent impression of anyone after two or three weeks of knowing them, if necessary, which is rather helpful considering his methods of earning a living.

decadent // Aster has never given up on reclaiming his old life of luxury - and probably never will. he's not particularly enthusiastic about actually proving himself and earning money in a more legal fashion, but he's pretty willing to indulge himself as often as possible. it's probably why he hasn't built up much funds yet.

flirtatious // well, he could be - would be if he was a little more thoughtful and observant. his still seems to possess a teenager's mind when it comes to socializing with none of the skill and all of the awkwardness, which really don't result in a good combination. It's all in good fun though, at least to him - he never means anything by his poor attempts at flirting, since he's still somewhat smitten with his last - and first - girlfriend.

another clever word sets off an unsuspecting herd fff
abilities
[div class=scrollhidden]sleep inducement // Aster is able to make anyone he is able to see - mirror reflections don't count - fall asleep. It takes around three minutes of concentration for him to force someone to fall asleep, but as long as he catches a glimpse of them as he begins to cencentrate, he no longer needs to keep them in view. Any loud noises or distractions will cause the time needed to increase. Aster can continue to apply his ability once they are unconscious - or on an already sleeping person - to ensure they will continue to sleep whether they need to or not. Once they are out of his line of sight, or he stops applying his power, the person begins to wake up naturally, the process taking different amounts of time depending on how tired they were originally. Simply staring at someone -direct line of sight, not peripheral vision - for ten or so minutes without redirecting his attention elsewhere for five seconds will also cause the to fall asleep. technically he doesn't have a limit to how many people he can force asleep, but he can only keep so many people in his line of sight at one time, and he has to tend to his basic bodily needs as well. His control over his ability is fine enough that he can merely make someone tired to a certain degree - tired enough that they wouldn't argue too much, tired enough to be irritable, etc, although of course these reactions differ from person to person.

opportunist // Aster isn't a great fighter, but if an opportunity is given to him to do some damage, he'd take it without a blink, even if it wasn't in the plan, and occasionally, in the adrenaline, even if it would negatively impact his survival rate overall. In a fight, this means that he's able to notice the smallest shred of weakness in an opponent, even if he can't actually use that information.

unnoticed // being in the thick of the fight isn't Aster's style. He likes to lurk in the background, where he can escape or attack as he chooses, with relatively little danger. he doesn't make noise, he doesn't draw attention. at least, not when his life is at stake.

clumsy // how do you hold a knife, or block a strike? Aster certainly doesn't know. His family produces scholars, not brutes. Let someone else do the dirty work.

and as you get back into line a mob jumps to their feet fff
history
[div class=scrollhidden] "Mama, I don't like this." The boy complained, although he allowed himself to be dressed by his mother and a silent servant. Her mother was taking more of a passive role, giving occasional commands to the servant, but she was obviously the one in command, here. "What's wrong with the clothes I chose? They were grand.

"Your father made a grievous mistake in teaching you that word." She muttered as she darted forward to straighten his collar with surprising strength. He flinched, but his mother was as insistent as always. "Being too extravagant in your appearance is not a good thing, dear. It's so unsophisticated."

Her mother was dressed in a rather elegant white dress discreetly embroidered with flowers of some sort. Probably daisies. He liked drawing daisies, they were the only kind of drawings papa would always praise. His taste in clothing was much better, he thought, with shiny gold thread everywhere and even the occasional jewel that was definitely not fake, never mind what his mother insisted. No one else had clothes like that in town, he was sure. Not even the older merchant's children who refused to listen to him. Especially not them, he hoped.

"But this one's boring." he cried, as he was allowed off the stool he had been standing on, and that-guy-over-there began to smooth his hair with a brush. Pouting, he stomped his feet on the floor, ruffling his hair again. "Everyone wears clothes like this! It's my birthday!"

"Yes, which doesn't prevent others - like your brother - from laughing at you if they see you suffocating in embroidery." His mother explained patiently. That brought him up short, just a little. The clothes had been a little heavy, and he had found it hard to move under their weight, but was it really that bad? He hadn't thought that the shiny gold things were embroidery. Everyone was going to think he was a girl!

But he wasn't about to admit defeat. He was too stubborn for that. He waited just a moment for that guy to smooth his hair again, and leaped to the door, mussing his golden locks up once again.

"I'm telling Papa!" He announced imperiously, before dashing out of the door. His Papa always listened, even if he was still looking down at his sheets of paper and only occasionally spoke back. He just really liked to think a lot, that was all! And he always agreed with whatever Aster said, even if his mama disagreed. Papa gave him presents all the time! Well, his servants did. Papa was too busy, but that didn't matter.

It was the thought that counted!
-blip-​
"Aster."

The voice chilled the young boy's blood. How had she found him? That wasn't supposed to happen.

he closed his eyes, muttered a brief wordless prayer, and turned to face the dreaded voice.

"Mother?" He replied innocently, careful that his back was straight and that he was definitely not looking down at his hands. No point giving her something else to criticize, when he was in trouble already. Fortunately, he already had an excuse in mind.

"I know I'm not supposed to be away from my tutors, but-"

His mother stopped him with a look, and he swallowed the rest of his excuse, managing not not look completely guilty as he hunched his shoulders and looked down - at the floor, not his hands. Progress! His elation, however, was significantly dimmed by the fact that his mother was going to eat him for breakfast for skipping tutoring again. Or lunch, or whatever the next meal was.

"You've been skipping classes again?" She demanded with no small amount of incredulity. Oops. Was that not why she was here? He seemed to have accidentally given it away. "Never mind, I don't have the time to talk now. Your father needs you." He should have breathed a sigh of relief, but the look his mother gave him was anything but reassuring. "We will talk about this later."

He was dismal all the way to Father's study, although he managed to straighten himself slightly when he entered. From the way the butler looked at him, he suspected his effort was in vain. Well, whatever. He didn't like the butler either.

He was, however, looking forward to talking with Father again. Last time, he had gone off in a tangent and started discussing mythology with Aster. That was interesting, and not only because it had taken an hour off time spent studying.

maybe that would happen again?
-snip​
"Hey, Jones."

The silence was excruciating. Was the manservant not called Jones? He allowed the quiet to stretch on a little longer, broken only by the sound of the horses' hooves as they rose and fell.

"You know, it would be a lot nicer if you could talk to me, Jones."

Still silence.

"Just one little grunt would be fine too."

"My task is to deliver you safely to the capital, not engage in conversation, sir."

Despite the disdainful tone of the manservant, Aster grinned, pleased to have finally gotten a reaction out of the man. He would have thought his mother had chosen a deaf or mute servant deliberately to annoy him. From what he had gotten off her last time, she really hadn't approved of him going to the College of Arts. For the poor, getting in was a nod to their artistic skills. For nobles, it was a place to leave younger sons where they could be conveniently forgotten.

Except he had gotten in on pure skill alone, although no one would be able to tell that from a glance.

The manservant still seemed disinclined to speak, which was unfortunate. His mother might as well have sent a mute person with him.

She really knew how to make him irritated, didn't she? Father wouldn't have minded, although he never cares about anything anymore. Always engrossed in his books, he was. Colin would be a far better Lord of Dufreuse, probably, if his father managed to off himself. At least he was willing to cover finances for Aster's education.

That counted for a lot, in the eyes of the seventeen-year-old boy.
-snip-​
“Hey, Aster!”

The man was jerked out of his trance as he heard someone call out. Thankfully, his brush had been nowhere near the canvas. If it was, there would have been some hell to pay.

“Hey, Aster!”

It was only then that he realized they were calling for him. Assigning a nickname for the freshmen seemed to be the common rite of passage here, and guess who was stuck with a wonderful nickname thanks to his lovely, creative parents? Either way, it took some serious skill for your real name to be remembered.

he put down his brush with a sigh. Whatever it was that they needed him for, apparently it warranted some serious flattery, and might actually be worth his time. There wouldn't be a problem with leaving his work unfinished for now, hopefully.

"What is it?" He yelled back, as he peered out of the door of his painfully cramped room. It was still larger than the rest of the rooms - his father had kindly donated one of the small properties he owned in the capital for Aster to live in, and he, in turn, had rented rooms out to students less fortunate than him - but the amount of canvases and paints that littered his room gave him very little space to move around in.

Glasses - he didn't wear any but he was apparently the new prodigy of the royal collegium for natural sciences and there were stereotypes to keep to - was waiting impatiently with his feet resting on the table. He probably didn't wipe his shoes by the door either. Why was it him that always had to watch out for messes? At least Glasses had the decency to rest his shoes on the floor when he noticed Aster's arrival.

Of course, that just meant the floor would need to be cleaned, but it needed to be cleaned in any case.

"Oh, you're here, good." He bounced up and down a little, like a two-year-old child. "I need some help. This is really urgent."

"Oh, gee. Wonder how I'd have figured that one out by myself."

He waved Aster's sarcastic remark away - he never engaged in any sort of debate that wasn't scholarly - and continued.

"I told you about the experiment Skunk and his theology friends were going to try, yeah?"

"Yeah." He said warily, "I'm not lending you any money for that." Sure, his family were nobles, bu then so were half of Glasses' acquaintances, and his allowance was pitiful.

Once again, his concern was waved away.

"No, the problem is that Professor Lindway wouldn't allow it until he had Skunk's father's approval."

"And..."

"Lord Radaviss is in Mear for some diplomatic meeting. No way we'd be able to get a letter to him and back in a month's time."

This seemed like it was going to be a long explanation, so Aster chose to sit down, slightly slouched, on a chair besides the sofa. "I still fails to see how this relates to me."

"You are the artist, are you not? Can you mimic Lord Radaviss's handwriting?" Seeing Aster's doubtful face, Glasses reiterated, 'This is really important. Hell, I'll pay you if it turns out okay."

That definitely changed some things. He could do with some extra money.

"I'll need some resources. Does Skunk keeps his letters from home?"

"I'll see what I can do."
-snip-​
For once, Aster had decided to use the library as a resource. Its wasn't particularly useful, considering that most of its limited collection of books could be found at any library in a small city, but it was close by. He had a list of other books he needed, which would require another trip, but he would find as many books as he could here.

"Um, excuse me? Aster, was it?"

He turned around, taking a few seconds to find the short boy standing timidly behind him. "Terence told me to find you."

Terence? Oh, yeah, Glasses.

"What is it?"

"i was hoping you could copy something for me in my Father's handwriting..."
-snip-​
They were all relaxing in the living room, comfortably squashed into the tiny room. Others were playing cards, but he had lost enough money for the night, and was instead chatting with his many other friends. Funny how money attracted all sorts of friends, he mused.

They were winding down, with only his closest friends remaining, when the messenger stumbled in, managing to straighten himself up, although the state he was in was still a mockery to the professionalism of the Royal Post. Must have been some rather urgent missive. Was it a bandit raid? Sickness? A company of desperate rebels seeking to threaten the Lord of Dufreuse for aid-

He shot up from his seat as he processed the words of the letter, cursing under his breath. He drew the gazes of everyone still left at the table as he continued to scan the letter, this time much more carefully - for a few seconds, before he discarded the letter and dashed into his room.

"What is it this time?" Someone asked from outside.

"Looks like his father's being tried for- High treason?" Fop's surprised voice rang from the living room. Damn it, couldn't he keep mum? "That's several degrees worse than keeping mercenaries."

Though, of course, in hindsight, he could see how this - and everything before - was leading up to this. Damn his father and his impractical plans, you'd think the man knew to stop after the first time.

"His brother's taking over the title." Fop continued. "Of course, Lord Dufreuse is likely to be-"

"Shut it!" He yelled, throwing a few clothes into a travel bag. Not that he had many possessions that were absolutely necessary - it seemed frivolous to be packing away art supplies at a time like this. Silence reigned momentarily within the house.

"Of course, there's not likely to be anything but the title left. The Crown would want to empty out House Dufreuse's treasury for this." Mumble broke the silence quietly. Damn him, everyone knew already. No one needed to hear it spoken out loud.

"As-ter, what are you doing packing?" Fop had appeared in the hallway, still holding his letter, a slight frown on his face. "There's no way you'd be able to hire a ride back this time of the night."

Did he really expect Aster to remain calm at a time like this?
-snip-​
He knocked on the door, ever so politely. it was a minute before anyone answered. Of course, this was a noble's dwelling - he was expecting to be waiting - but this was just a little too uncomfortable in the morning chill. When the door opened, he handed over the letter with just a little less decorum than what was necessary. The door shut in Aster's face.

A year after he was left to fend for himself, and he was still unused to this.

He wasn't told that they wouldn't fund him in so many words, per se, but it was clear they had to cut down on their spendings, and the second son's frivolous education was not something that their nonexistent treasury could afford. He would have been a little disappointed, if he hadn't earned a scholarship.

The offer had always been there, of course, but there was no reason to take it until now. It didn't mean he didn't need some income, hence the job. He spoke the language well and looked the part, and that was enough.

He knocked on another house's door.

Two girls opened the door this time, barely awake. One accepted the stack of letters, and began opening one that - he assumed - was addressed to her. After a glance, she tossed it back to Aster.

"Toss that, will you?" She ordered with the voice of someone who expected others to listen, even if they weren't part of her household servants. Turning to her companion as if Aster wasn't there, she explained, "General Felund's parties are never fun."

Her companion muttered something, but the door was closing, which blocked out most of her words.

He knew a General Felund - the only General Felund. His son was part of Aster's circle of acquaintance at college, and always begging for money from his parents, who were always happy to oblige. He-

-he could probably remember his semi-formal writing style, actually.

While he hated to cheat someone he knew, Aster did need the money more urgently than Smudge.
-snip-​
He was allowed in fairly easily, the party making sure that security was looser than it otherwise would have been. He played the part of the silent messenger well, ducking through hallways. Hallways that he knew well.

Of course, he hadn't seen General Felund since years before his father's execution. The man wouldn't recognize him even if Aster did bump into him. He knew the hallways well enough to make his way to the study, however.

After delivering the letter to the servant, he was told to wait momentarily, as the General would have a reply soon. He was expecting that, and was fine with waiting. Just a while, at least.

He was sent off in a few minutes, his forgery seeming to have passed the mark.

He should have been able to slip into the party, no problem, but General Felund really did throw the worst parties.

Instead, he wandered casually into a quiet part of the mansion, where few people went. The hallways were just as richly decorated, however. He filled his pockets with a few that looked the most ordinary. They would still be worth quite a bit, and he didn't want to get caught.

Which was why he chose to exit through a side door rather than the main one.

Unfortunately for him, that door was guarded.

He took a look at their backs, then ducked around the corner - quietly - with his hands full of trinkets he stole. This was the worst case scenario, here.

He wished they would go away. What kind of guard didn't steal away to enjoy the party? Get drunk, or start playing cards, or to get some food. Something!

He was debating whether it would be a good idea to head back and replace the items more or less where he found them when he heard the sound of a body dropping to the ground. Several.

He peeked around the corner again, and found the guards unconscious. What?

After making sure there was no one around, he sneaked over and checked the breathing of each one of them. They seemed fine, relaxed, even. Asleep.

He tiptoed around the sleeping guards, through the door, still warily watching for a possible assailant.

He seemed to be safe for now, but it wouldn't do to push his luck.
-snip-​
"I keep telling you, it could have been caused by any number of phenomena." She impatiently cut off his stutterings, not for the first time in the last ten minutes. "I'd have to be there to-"

She relaxed suddenly, collapsing onto the chair she had been sitting on, and would have hit the floor, had Aster not reached forwards to steady her. Just in case, he checked. Also asleep.

He steadied her, and tapped her sharply on her head.

It still took a while for her to wake, blinking at him.

"What happened?"

"You fell asleep."

"Right." There was a pause before she realized. "Like those guys."

"Yeah."

"See if we can replicate the results again. No, wait. It'll take too long. It's pretty obvious, anyways." She looked at Aster expectantly, sighing when he didn't respond. "You were the constant in both situations."

"And that means...?"

"It's you, Aster." She stabbed him on the chest with one finger.

"Right, yes, knew that. Of course."

"Of course."

They stayed silent for a moment longer, considering the implications. Or at least, that was what he was doing.

"I have classes I need to get to." She said abruptly, standing up. "We'll see if we have time to talk after I get back, which was the plan before you dragged me here and made me late."

Aster stood up as well, following her to the door of his tiny dwelling.

"You probably should get going too."

"Yes, yes." He mumbled distractedly, until she snapped her fingers before his eyes, causing him to blink.

"Don't get into any trouble, okay? I don't just mean generally. I mean what you did last night." Her expression was hard now. "I actually kind of like you, Aster, but I have a duty. Don't sneak into noble's dwellings to pilfer stuff in the future. I know you can support yourself without doing so."

"It's okay, I'm not doing that again." The lie slipped out of his mouth easily.

She searched his face, seemingly convinced of his honesty, then stepped out, closing the door behind her.

He always forgot how other people tended to have more respect for the laws than he did.
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Naimi.png
Naimi Sraja

The Oracle

Basics:

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Role: Oracle

Power: Jul’s Insight

Origin: Svel

Personal:

Personality: She tries very hard to be a kind, upstanding and tolerant person, though this could be considered a weakness just as much as a strength in some cases. If anything or anyone bothers her, she will act around others as though she doesn't have a care in the world until she just can't anymore, in order to ensure that others are not inconvenienced by her as much as she possibly can. That being said, she makes friends easily and more or less gets along with everyone, forced or not. At the core of her being is a strong set of morals and beliefs that tend to clash with others at times. However, she does like to speak to others and will always console a friend of hers or lend a helping hand to them, no matter whether or not they tend to drive her up the wall. She detests evil and the unfaithful, and believes she knows exactly what is wrong and what is right, seeing the world in black and white. She can be fun-loving and outgoing, but most of the time she is reserved, kind and subtle for the most part.
Likes: Sunshine, daytime, warm weather, tea, animals, confident women, nice men, fruits and veggies.

Dislikes: Rudeness, excessive violence, killing, vulgarity, non-believers in Jul, eating meat, cold weather, being cooped up inside, unnecessary aggression of any kind, predjudice, showboating.

Appearance: She tends to wear cute but simple dresses, hardy yet elegant-looking knee-high boots

Combat:

Strengths: Nimble and fast, aware, accurate archer.

Weaknesses: Squishehhhhh!!!!, overly cautious, no melee capability (she lacks teh strumpth)

power explanation & techniques:

weapons & gear: Bow and arrow, light leather armor underneath clothing


History: Naimi’s Mother and father were both in time-honored professions, and the only child they ever raised was her, as she was all they frankly felt they both could handle. Her mother was a teahouse owner, and her father an artist. Soon after they had conceived her, they both fell on rather hard times, the both of them living in the streets after her mother’s teahouse closed. Her father had not found the inspiration to paint in a long time, bringing the income from his art to zero. The two of them loved each other deeply, though, which kept them scraping by with what little her father could scrounge up from odd jobs until she was born.


Looking into her eyes for the first time was what gave Naimi’s father the inspiration for his next work after a nearly year-long creative slump, which ended up selling to a collector for far more than any of his other paintings had sold up to that point. By the time she had her first tangible memory that she still remembers as our story begins, mother had a newly established teahouse in Svel’s capital, her father was in high demand, and they both were better off than they’d ever been before. Her early childhood was blissful as a result of her parents’ own states of bliss. Most of her fondest memories as a young adult came from this time, such as playing excitedly with her schoolmates in front of the teahouse in winter, then coming in to a soul-warming cup of tea just the way she loved it. Her other favorite place to be, besides home, was church, where she grew to be a favorite of the clergy. She was approached by many boys there, but never garnered interest towards them in return.

As she grew older, she became interested in archery having seen others practice it.

On the surface, she seemed like the kind of girl who’d lead a very “normal”, for lack of a better word, sort of life.This was an accurate assumption for quite a few years, too, until the visions and voices began. She would have dreams that were nigh-incomprehensible for her, yet seemed very important, and similar flashes of all-encompassing thought throughout the day that would often leave her grasping her head and crying out of confusion. She felt for years as if she was “missing” something vital whilst going through life, feeling that something that was not herself was living within her mind and having no idea what it meant. She figured she was simply insane for a while. Only when finally asking her mother’s advice on the subject, the woman being a devout follower of Jul and well-versed in all aspects of the religion's knowledge, did an answer come; she was an Oracle, the coming of which was foretold in the Sun God’s texts. It was clear now; there was a purpose to this, and to her life, and a very important one at that, according to the prophecy surrounding an Oracle of Jul. After learning this, what had beforehand been incomprehensible babblings within her mind spoken in a soothing voice began to become clearer in small increments over time.


Other: She has a faithful pet Scottish Deerhound named Dotti. He is well-trained and extremely protective of her, to the extent that it takes a while for him to trust anyone new that Naimi meets.​
 
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