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Fantasy Vehemen Academy - Academy of Hunters CS

Lore
Here
SilverBlack

SilverBlack

Poopshroom
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)

Rules for CS:

1. Please make sure you've read the Otherworlders and Roles section in the Lore before you make your character.
2. Anime or semi-realistic art only for characters only, since I envision it to be an anime roleplay. If you have difficulties looking for character art, a description is fine and I, or we, are more than welcome to find one up for you.
3. While I prefer it to be a lot longer and more specific, give at least--at the minimum least--a paragraph for personality and background. A paragraph means a minimum of 5 decent long sentences. I do not mind listing of personality traits as well but make sure it's enough to give us a basic idea of what your character's like. You are free to go above and beyond, I don't mind long reads--in fact, I enjoy it.
4. You can be creative with your supernatural powers, I won't give limits to your potentials, but do not cross the border where it becomes godmoddling. No, characters will not automatically die in one touch, or one punch. No matter how OP you eventually become, you won't be One Punch Man. I'm sure all of you get this, but just in case.
5. But can characters still be OP? For once, I'll say yes, eventually. But be realistic, if you're a Third generation, there's no way you can be OP yet since you've just started, so you're still pretty new to your power. You may eventually become an OP character. Juniors and teachers will naturally be more used to the powers than you, but they won't be OP yet either.

Note: If you are a 3rd gen, you'd be a freshman. If you are a 2nd gen, you are a junior. Note that 2nd gen junior characters will already know each other since you are all transferred into this world together two years ago and fought together as awhile now. It's your choice if the characters will be close to each other or not.
*2nd Gen Roles are Currently All Filled*

(I planned to say a lot more things than this but I forgot what, so I'll let it be for now.)

Character Sheet:

Name:
Age:
Appearance: (Anime/semi-realistic image with a brief short additional description)
Height:
Weight:
Role: (Your world in the academy. Are you a 3rd gen? 2nd gen? Teacher/Faculty?)
Subject: (Teacher exclusive, skip this if you aren't one. It's the subject you teach in the academy)
Location of Marking: (OtherWorlders only. Is it on the back of your hand? Arm? Back?)
Personality:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Background: (As an OtherWorlder, your background is based on the original world you came from. As a teacher, your background is based on this supernatural world that you grew up in.)
Supernatural Powers: (A description of what your powers are. The more details, the better. You are allowed to be very creative with this. There should be a major one that your character uses the most, especially in action. Your character is allowed to have also one minor power that can be either physical or mental that is optional. For example, aside from drowning the whole classroom in water or burn everything into ashes, your character also have the ability to mind-control or erase memories. This minor power isn't necessary if you don't want to think of one.)
Weapons: (A brief description of the type of weapons your character equips, which you will bring to battles with you and be trained to use in.)


 
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Name: Frederika von Eisenhart
Age: 18
Appearance: Tall, blonde, and athletic.
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 180 lbs
Role: 3rd gen outworlder, Vehemen Academy Freshman
Location of Marking: Back
Personality: Professional to a fault, Frederika can come off as overly-serious in every day interaction, always considering the relative merits of the options laid out before selecting one regardless of the actual weight of the choice. Once she resolves herself to a decision however, very little can be done to prevent her from seeing it through to the end. Righteous yet oddly cognizant of the effects her actions have, she strives to always be on the path to improvement. To the surprise of many and disbelief of most, she _does_ possess a sense of humor; however her particular brand of mirth comes off as so incredibly dry as for it to often be misinterpreted as nihilistic or at best, understatement to the point of incomprehensibility. She also genuinely does care for those who become close to her, though because of her own personal drive as well as the aforementioned seriousness, it is often hard to see through her otherwise stoic exterior.

Likes: Challenge, competition, improvement. As for more tangible things, she finds classical music relaxing, she enjoys reading about history, she will happily accept an invitation to walk through the gardens, and, of course, any variety of physical contest will be agreed to immediately... or at least, immediately for her, which is to say, after properly determining that she does not have other needs or responsibilities that must come first, of course.

Dislikes: Wishy-washiness, lack of ambition, laziness. She also does not like overly-sweet things, both culinary and personality, as they are too saccharine for her taste. She also VERY much dislikes situations where control is taken out of her hands and she is left to the mere whims of fate; to her, everything is a goal that can be strived for with active effort.

Background: Frederika is the oldest child of the current von Eisenhart generation. Descendants of Prussian aristocracy, the von Eisenhart family exemplifies the "no-nonsense" mentality that earned their country the terrifying reputation history ascribes to them, and Frederika was no exception. Forged from an early age in the crucible of family expectations, she quickly developed into a formidable student athlete at her school, excelling at mental and physical challenges put before her. Regardless, at first she had the semblance of a relatively normal, albeit busy, school life, with a smattering of friends and hobbies outside of her competitive efforts. However, as the years began to pass, and medals and trophies quickly began to adorn her portion of the von Eisenhart estate, no matter how many she obtained there was always the implication she could do better, rise higher, be grander if she worked harder. Days turned to nights as she continued to strive in any competition that would have her, and her friends and clubs quickly began to see less and less of her on a daily basis, but still she persisted, pushing herself harder and harder and giving her self less and less recovery time between competitions.

Everything came to a head towards the very end of her senior year, at the grueling national finals for track and field. She was running on barely any sleep, having had to do all of her studying for her entrance exams the night prior and then sit for them earlier that day. Now it was late at night, and she could feel herself flagging as she approached the starting blocks for the final event, the 1500m. Her muscles ached from lack of rest and her mind swam like a foggy dream, but she took her position, waited for the gun and... with a bang she was off. At first her conditioning held fast, and she began to break away from the pack, but as she reached the mid point of the race, her exhaustion began to take its toll on her, and her lead began to shrink, then disappeared altogether. She willed herself to speed up, but her body didn't listen, couldn't put anything more out onto the field. For the first time in a long time she felt despair, felt the true fear of having victory snatched away from her. There was no room for second place; she had to prevail at this last event or else all her efforts would be for naught. So she pushed herself with every last ounce of will to succeed in this figurative battle.

And in response, a searing pain radiated from her back, her warrior's plea becoming an oath incarnate as her white-hot determination scorched a symbol into her flesh. A fire began to burn inside her, and like a phoenix rising from the ashes, her strength returned and her mind snapped back into razor sharp focus. She was behind in the race at this moment, but now that only made it a worthy challenge. Like a predator pouncing upon their prey, she leapt forward with a completely unexpected of burst of speed, closing the gap and at the last moment, pulling ahead to clench victory from the jaws of defeat, her arms raised high in triumph as the crowd erupted.

And then she collapsed.

She awoke alone in a hospital bed, struggling to gain her bearings. As she looked around, staring at the stark walls and the institutionally approved decor, her brief recollection of her victory quickly became tempered by the realization that she was the only one who cared; not a single get well card or flower adorned the table next to her. She had completely ostracized herself in the process of fulfilling her pursuits. Indeed, at the conclusion to her school career, as she accepted the towering "Outstanding Senior Scholar-Athlete" trophy for her school, when she looked out to the crowd that was assembled she could not honestly claim a single former friend in attendance.

That night she sat down in her room, the trophy having been discarded in the corner with all the others, and truly wondered what she was doing with her life. Competition and ceremony was grand, but without it truly bringing purpose to her life, what was the point? What cause was she advancing by undergoing all this strife? What could she even do at this point? How could she retake control of her life? Little did she know that the answer to all of these questions would be answered for her but an unseen twist of fate...

Supernatural Powers:

Major: Zielstrebigkeit - Dependent - When Frederika starts to push herself, she begins to demonstrate just what humanity is capable of when given just that little extra push.Her strength increases, her speed heightens, her senses sharpen and her mind focuses beyond normal capabilities, and the harder she pushes, the more they do so.

Minor: Eisenhärte - Free Reign - As said above, not much can stop Frederika when she decides to do something, not even grievous wounds or mental assaults. She remains capable when others would have fallen. With enough effort, she can even begin to reverse the effects of such damage, resulting in effectively an inherent healing factor.

Weapons: Ritterklinge - Langschwert - A two-handed sword of cruciform design and moderate length; it possesses an excellent temper and a forgiving profile. Profile is comparatively thick with a gentle taper, which then sharply cuts in; distal taper is similar, making this sword excellent in the cut and at least passable in the thrust, at the expense of weight and liveliness.
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She is also proficient in hand-to-hand combat and intersperses such in her assaults as the need arises.
 
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bb.ravyn







  • filler tab. ignore!













♡design by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡




I did a code thing !!
(click the username)
 
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Name: Adrian September

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Appearance: tumblr_inline_oasy3cK7fD1svi88o_500.png
Adrian is moderately tall and has a lean build. He inherited his father's dark hair and his mother's green eyes. His hair is typically messy due to his inability to wield a comb properly and he has a long scar along the inside of his left arm from falling out of a tree when he was younger. He also wears a pair of dark gloves.

Height: 5'11" (~180.3 cm)

Weight: 157 lbs (~71.2 kg)

Role: 3rd Generation

Location of Marking: On his left side, directly below his ribcage.

Personality: Adrian is very withdrawn. Having spent much of his life surrounded by people he didn't really know, he ended up keeping mostly to himself. Friendliness doesn't come easily to him, nor does he really want it to. He tries to live his own life, not really considering what other people say or think of him. He's also a bit reckless when feeling pressured and is prone to making rash decisions. However, Adrian also has a strict moral code that he would never compromise and is bold almost to the point of foolhardiness. Despite his cold, unemotional outer demeanor, Adrian is actually very opinionated, though despite what his thoughts are, he'll try to look out for the people around him. He's long since learned that it isn't his place to pass judgement anyone, no matter what they've done before. So long as they don't cause trouble, that is.

Likes: Overly-sweet coffee, snow, the color orange, apple orchards, tall structures, gladioli, mystery novels, sleeping in

Dislikes: Anything bitter, extreme heat, snoring, seas, dead things, large insects, chihuahuas

Background: Adrian was born to a lower middle class family in upstate New York, in the USA. He grew up as an only child in an unhappy household, his parents constantly fighting. To avoid being dragged into their conflicts, he spent most of his time outdoors, enjoying his woodsy surroundings. After his parents inevitably divorced when he was 14, he moved across the country to a small southern Californian town with his mother. Here, he ended up staying indoors more to avoid the wretched heat and discovered his penchant for mystery novels. He relied on them for much of his entertainment throughout his new, uncomfortable life in a town where he was the only stranger. That all changed when he discovered his first ability the next year.

Psychometry presented itself subtly. After touching items, he would have a feeling about who owned them, where they had been, how they were used. When it first happened, Adrian almost missed the pain of the sudden branding, drugged by copious amounts of painkillers after falling out of a tree. At first, he'd just chalked it up to an overexcitable imagination from all the mysteries he read, denying the strange mark on his side and its glow. But when he realized that his "feelings" were more than just that and in most cases, he was correct about the things he touched, Adrian realized that he couldn't avoid it any longer. It scared him at first, as he believed that someone would take him away at any moment for experimentation. But first weeks, then months passed, he began to feel safe. He reveled in his strange powers and used then on practically everything he saw. Soon, however, he grew tired of them. As he aged, his psychometry grew in strength, extending his reading from objects to small animals, and then humans. Suddenly, Adrian was aware of information he didn't want to know. He could tell that his neighbor was cheating on his wife, that his English teacher had an uncomfortable and inappropriate fondness for young children, that several others were taking up liquor and smoking. He began to wear gloves in an attempt to block his ability to some minor level of success. But it wasn't enough. He withdrew from the world, staying within his home to avoid the sordid affairs of others. Adrian avoided everyone and everything for as long as he could, but there was no way to that forever. Eventually, his mother forced him outside and pushed him back into regular life. At this point, his ability's strength had grown so that the gloves were of little hindrance, but Adrian failed to maintain any control over them. Any time he so much as brushed up against something, he would be struck by images, feelings, thoughts that weren't his own. He never got very much information, but being constantly bombarded was taking its toll on him. He couldn't bear to touch anything and wished that he didn't have to. And then, just as suddenly as before, he didn't.

His control over gravitational forces presented itself much later than his psychometry, but certainly did not fail to compare in terms of strength. In fact, as soon as he developed it, it presented itself in noticeable ways. Dangerously noticeable. At first, his lack of control led to his power being wildly out of control, affecting random items in sight. Luckily, they seemed to have little effect on large objects. Once he got over his shock, Adrian was determined to gain control over this ability early. He practiced day and night, manipulating forces to move items carefully, also avoiding physical contact. This ability seemed like a godsend. It allowed him to worry far less about touching things and reading them on accident. Adrian also realized that the gloves he wore for his psychometry were actually helping him control his gravitational manipulation. His control improved by leaps and bounds and, by the time he was 17, he no longer had to worry about accidentally moving things.

His confidence bolstered by this success, Adrian turned to the source of many of his troubles: his psychometry. He slowly reintroduced surfaces to his skin, trying to feel for a way to stop the supernatural reaction. And so he did. It took many painful mistakes and a year of practice, impressively short considering how long he'd had the ability, until he no longer read everything he touched. However, he still kept the gloves to prevent any losses of control as, despite his best efforts, he hadn't truly mastered his powers, only limiting them. Regardless, with a newfound sense of freedom, Adrian swore to never try to read someone without a good reason, deciding that he had no right to intrude on their secrets. However, it was already too late. He'd seen or felt most of the people he knew's deepest and darkest secrets, and he couldn't look at any of them the same and in turn, his strange behaviour over the years had granted him a notorious reputation with the town. Surrounded by people he simultaneously didn't really know and knew too well, all Adrian wanted now was to go somewhere else - anywhere else - and get a fresh start.

Supernatural Powers: Adrian's main ability is control over gravitational forces (Dependency Power). He can manipulate them on a relatively small scale to attract or repulse things around him. However, his range is is severely limited, extending only 130 feet (~40 meters). In addition, he can only influence forces in one direction at a time and, without his gauntlets, finds it harder to have finer control. His secondary power is psychometry (Free Reign). This ability allows him to read the history of anything he touches. This is less effective on living beings, particularly those with a higher cognitive ability or strength far beyond Adrian's. His psychometry also allows him to sometimes temporarily imitate the techniques or actions of others so long as he is able to physically recreate them. Using either ability for long periods of time will cause a drop in effectivity and lead to fatigue. Adrian's gravitational abilities also become harder to control over longer distances. He can't use either ability on himself.

Weapons: Adrian wields a pair of gauntlets built to focus and concentrate his gravitational control. In addition, he carries a set of large darts that he launches and directs through force manipulation.
 
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Celeste (Cleo) Donovan

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Artist: 手暮ケイ

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Character created from: li.nu/attrade/itemsearch.php)
Basics
Name: Celeste (Cleo) Donovan
Age: 19 years old
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 5'4''
Weight: 138lbs
Role: 2nd Generation/Junior
Location of Marking: Upper arm, just below her shoulder

Appearance
There is something unique about her light, brownish yellow eyes that makes it appear as if it’s always emitting a soft glow. Under the sun, it seems to reflect the rays enough that her irises appear almost golden in color, which stands out against her pale skin and grayish-white hair. On that note, her hair--reaching down only to the very top part of her back, is often just lazily combed over by her fingers. Therefore, aside from the slight waviness of her hair, it always appears to be slightly messy--but neat enough, so Cleo decides not to bother more about it. As a whole, Cleo’s appearance is that of a tomboy--carelessly dressed, not focused on making herself look feminine, especially with a cigarette dangling by her mouth and that completely flat chest of hers. When she was younger (as depicted by the picture on the right), around 14, she usually just wear a plain black shirt with slightly shorter hair. Now, her attire and appearance changed as she become more mature and aged.

Now, under her usual white shirt, which has a light brown jacket over it most of the time, one can tell that her figure is slim. There are always multiple, different tiny wounds over her body due to her wild and quite careless nature. Despite so, she is considerably well-built. Under her short, blue jeans and under her sleeves, there are muscles there from the training she did and the many times she engaged in combat in the past. There are the faint lines of a six-pack forming on her stomach, but it’s not completely there yet.

Personality
Cleo has been a troublemaker ever since she was a child. She enjoys thrills and causing troubles, breaking things, getting into fights, doodling on walls. Even if her mischievous nature toned down a bit by the time she grew up, she is still wild: doesn’t mind running across a street filled with cars or learning how to parkour. Theft, drugs, cigarettes, Cleo rarely backs off from things that people don’t allow others to do. This is partly why she is able to fit into a gang, blending in well with the illegal side of the world. It may contrasts greatly with her family background, but she has never found herself to fit in there anyway.

Despite such wild nature, in social aspect, Cleo is actually pretty chill in person. Aside from sharing the traits of a tomboy, Cleo acts more mature than her age, as if she’s already been through the dark side of the society so she knows what’s up. She enjoys chit-chatting with people, finding different kinds of them interesting. With that said, Cleo never forces another to join in with her to do illegal things. In fact, she seems to have a soft spot for genuine, nice people, or those that are still pure, naive, or innocent. Growing up viewing the world as merely a messy corruption, those people make the world seem a bit more endearing.

Cleo doesn’t like unnecessary fights, both verbal and physical. Sure, if someone is to propose her a serious challenge for a duel, a smirk will rise onto her face and she’ll gladly accept it as a thrilling competition. However, she dislikes getting involved in arguments, or when people vigorously picks a fight with her. While she’s blunt and not afraid to speak up, if she figures that the other won’t bother listening to her point to start with, she’ll simply brush the other off with a wave of her hand or walk off herself. She doesn’t get too offended or mad easily, having been judged prejudicially since childhood and gets too used to it.

However, Cleo does have her own sense of justice and beliefs, as well as a moral code she follows by. She holds a lifelong grudge against the corruption behind the justice system, and she hates it when real criminals get unpunished. While her rationality beats her emotional side more often, she doesn’t mind acting out if something truly upsets her, or if someone she values gets hurt. Neither would she mind fighting for another person or for herself for the justice or rights he or she deserves, even if it means threatening someone or taking one step further down the illegal path if necessary.

While maintaining a stable social interaction, Cleo is still more so a person who enjoys solitude ever since she left her gang. She rarely opens herself up, and still choose to maintain a certain distance away from everyone else, never really getting too close to any of them.

Likes:
Cigarettes, mint-flavored (or cigarettes in general, just that flavor in particular)
Smoking, Alcohol
Mint-flavored gum, mint tea, mint, and anything mint-related
Mint-chocolate ice cream & Dark chocolate ice cream
Ignis, her magical weapon/gun\\Black coffee, dark choc\
Solitude
Regular and Black comedy, meeting interesting people
Her former gang and Cain, her former gang leader (as a good friend)

Dislikes:
The justice system
Her father, her family
Fake, two-sided people
“Caramel Honey Glazed: Avocado-Banana Chocolate” ice cream that she happened to eat one day and decided not to approach again
“Black Ink Mysteriously-Flavored!!” Ramen that she happened to eat one day and decided not to approach again
Spicy pepper
Candies/Drinks that are too sweet
Loud, noisy places and people
Politicians and the Police force
People who take advantage of others whether it’s physically or mentally
Reading

Powers
Cleo is able to use the dust and ash particles in the air to create mini explosions, which can be combined to create an even more powerful, giant ones. Orbs of white light will form first before they explode. She is able to control the number of explosions, how close or how far the explosions occur, how long it takes for the explosion to happen, and how powerful it’ll be as she continues to improve on her power. While her current limit on the distance in which she’s able to exert this ability is approximately 3-4 meters away, she will probably grow stronger and become more advanced. The explosions work like any other ones, it can possibly ignite fire, and can cause a great level of destruction depending on how powerful the explosion is. However, the farther away the explosions happen from her, the less powerful it’ll be, and the harder it is for her to control.

Another advantage Cleo has with this ability is that the backlash caused by the explosion works well with her. Balancing well with the level of backlash caused by the size of the explosion, Cleo can use it to bounce higher into the air, using the force caused by the explosion almost as stepping stones. Although, that doesn’t mean she can remain midair for long because she’d have to endlessly exert her ability. Furthermore, the more she uses it, the more it drains her stamina, making her physically tired if she endlessly uses her power.

Cleo does not have any minor or secondary power. However, as a person herself, she is used to fighting, and has different combat skills she obtained from when she was part of the gang. She is familiar with fighting with her fists and legs, which she improves on through regular training and experiences with her hobby in training her own body and work-outs. She is swift and agile, knows how to fight with a dagger and pocket-knives which are mostly for self-defense, and has knowledge over using a gun after she becomes an Otherworlder. She runs fast, and is training herself to run even faster. Cleo is also good at finding hiding spots, and is quite knowledgeable on the different streets, alleyways, or secret pathways that the city contains. She likes to learn shortcuts to various destinations, but many of them usually involve going through a dark and dangerous alleyway, or flipping/climbing over a wall.

Equipment:
Cleo does not carry much with her usually, aside from two pocket knives she wields at the side of her waist for self-defense as habit of being part of a gang, a lighter, and usually two packs of cigarettes in her side and back pocket.

Weapons
Her supernatural power makes it not completely necessary for her to have weapons, but she wields a gun, named Ignis by her, that allow her to fire bullets sharply at a specific target/spot at a shooting speed. The bullets are designed to be able to incorporate small levels of her power, allowing mostly mini explosions upon contact with the target. Cleo finds it useful, since once a certain distance away, her supernatural powers become harder to control. Her gun allows her to aim at a particular, specific location with precise accuracy despite it being much smaller an impact of an attack. If the bullets have incorporated her power, it will explode immediately if it contacts something, or explode in midair if it touches nothing when fired in the end.
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Biography/Background
"He did not kill anybody!”

At the age of 12, the image Celeste held toward her family changed forever. Raised in quite a rich household by a famous judge as her father and a prosecutor as a mother, grew up with an exceptional elder sister who’s excelling in law school, even if she was a trouble-maker with a naughty personality, Celeste had thought that it would be cool to enter the law program too in the future. Change her ways, even: stop breaking things, fighting with neighbors’ kids, doodling on walls, for example. Her home-school tutor and her only friend in the household, Relby--as Celeste called him, was the one who persuaded her to follow after her family’s path. “They fought for the innocent victims’ rights and give punishments to the evil,” at that time, Celeste had thought that the way Relby described her family’s job is pretty cool. Maybe, she did think, maybe she should study law too.

However, when Relby was falsely accused of attempted rape and murder of their family’s housekeeper, Celeste’s impression of her family shattered. She remembered her desperate, powerless cries and pleads as she forced herself up to the witness stand, attempted to speak in defense for her own home-school tutor, only to be forcibly dragged away by the guards. Her statements were carelessly brushed aside by the prosecutor as the “biased statement made by a pitiful young girl who was still traumatized by her beloved home-school tutor’s crime, spoken under an unclear state of mind.” She watched as the defense attorney barely making any points in defense of Relby, and watched as the judge--her own father, declared him guilty.

The justice system was never as perfect as it seems. As if what happened in court had not wounded her enough, when she happened to pass by her father’s office door one day and heard the conversation that happened inside, she exploded.

“Ten million dollars would be transferred to your account, nah, I still owe you big deal. I couldn’t think of the mess I’d be in if they know my son was an attempted rapist and murderer! Good thing that home-tutor was there.”

She burst through the door, demanding explanations from both her father and the stranger whose son was the true culprit for the crime. Yet, what could a 12 years old girl really do? She was brushed aside, her father told her she’d heard everything wrong and that no one would believe her words anyway. Celeste was enraged, she ran to her mother and sister, thinking they’d be surprised to hear her words, only to realize that they’re on her father’s side.

As she continued to grow up in that household, she realized more and more that her family’s wealth was built more so on corruption than honest, good money, hidden well with a nice mask of justice on the surface as lower-status people were declared guilty in protection of rich, famous households, even politicians. Ever since Relby's case planted the seed, her hatred for her father grew. But unlike her elder sister, she had poor academic records. It’s not to say she wasn’t smart, she’s just not fit for school. She had thought she would become a lawyer too and find evidence and proofs to go against her own family, but that never seemed to be able to happen. Instead, she became disgusted with the fact that she was going along with what the family wanted still. She listened when they enrolled her into a private middle school, and despite skipping most of the classes she still graduated (knowing that her family paid the school to keep her to keep the family reputation up). She enrolled into a public high school, all these time thinking that one day she could overturn her family after she educated herself enough, after she becomes a lawyer herself. But as her grades grew poorer and she got neglected more and more in her family, as her sister was praised to become a prosecutor like her mother, and--most of all, as her father declared another poor man guilty for the sake of the rich(by this time, Celeste’s view toward her father was twisted and biased enough that she believed everything he did was corrupt and false. She did not have evidence that the poor man was actually innocent, she just believed so), the girl broke out.

During class-time one day, she skipped class and stole a baseball bat from the school field. Running down the school hallways, she set off the fire alarm, then shattered as many windows as she could. She poured bottles of ink onto the floor, splattered it onto the teachers passing by, even. Sure, she was caught in the end. Her rebellious outbreak in school as the daughter of a famous judge was put on the news. Good thing cause she did damage her family reputation like she wanted, at the cost of being kicked out of the family, that is. “Never come back again,” her father roared as the door slammed on her. Truth is they had decided to leave her to her uncle to be taken care of--an abusive and perverted one that is, a man who had always looked at her with indecency in his eyes ever since she was at a much younger age. As one would expect, Celeste ran away. She was 14 years old. Homeless and defenseless, what she ended up doing was to join a gang.

“I can help sell drugs, ya know, who would suspect a 14 years old? Theft would be all good for me, it’s not like I haven’t done it before. I’m not good at fighting yet but hell, I can learn along with ya and you can teach me. Don’t you guys have errands you guys hate doing? Take me in, I’d do anything for you. I’m homeless, anyway.”

When she approached a small gang one night at the dark alleyway with only short blue jeans and a brown light jacket over a plain white shirt, her hair messy and her face dirty, she was originally snorted by the members and brushed aside. “Be glad we aren’t raping ya,” one even said. But the gang leader, a dark-skinned, handsome hooded man named Cain, did take an interest in her. “She could be our hostage, make things easier against the police,” he said with a shrug, but looked toward Celeste. “It wouldn’t be our responsibility if you die. We would leave your poor 14 years old body by the road as we move on. Gangs aren’t for kids, we dealt with the underground world. Illegal deals all day, gang violence all the time. Your innocent days are over.”

Celeste smiled back then when she said she could care less. When he asked for her name, she answered “Cleo.”

For the rest three years then, Cleo was part of the gang. At first, she was, indeed, just a poor errand tomboy, bullied even among the gang members. However, time passed by and she began to set records herself. She performed every job given to her well, she got along with the rest of the gang members. As a starter, she learned to smoke. Then, she learned to fight, even learned how to use a gun as she was involved in different gang violence. There were countless times when she and the rest of the gang escaped from the police. Nonetheless, she also experienced loss. With gang as her new family, she went through the times when gang members died through violence or shot by the police, in which she grieved. She lived a wild and illegal life, but what she realized was that she enjoyed it much more than her old home. Despite not following the laws, there’s a certain code that the gang seemed to follow by themselves, a belief system. They do not rape, they do not hurt the innocent, neither would they get them involved. The gang is made up by the outcasts, lower-class members deemed failures of society who turned to crimes in the end, but in Cleo’s eyes, she saw more humanity in them than she could in her own father.

“What the f*ck.”

Then, it happened. Something that was totally out of her regular lifestyle. It was only a couple days after she turned seventeen that she realized that she had obtained a power astounding to her herself. Everyone jumped when a mini explosion suddenly boomed midair and she herself fell back from the backlash.

It took awhile for her after that to learn that she has suddenly obtained supernatural powers. At first, in the first couple of months, she suffered a lot of backlash from her own ability, so she limited her own usage of it. Nonetheless, it would be false to say that she didn’t use it. She played with it regularly, obviously causing a lot of accidental destruction in the city. She learned to control it for the most part in one year, and she realized the more she trained the more powerful her explosions could be, and the farther away from her herself the explosions could occur.

“Yo, look at that police dude trying to pat down that girl, it’s obvious he just wanted to tap that ass cause I would want it too. Cleo, make his balls explode. Come on, just do it, a mini one’s fine---ooh, ooooooh, you saw that?! You saw it?! Hehehe, hahahaha!”

By the time she was fluent with her own ability, she had used it several times as part of the gang. Sometimes, she worked hidden at the back to help when her gangs got into fights. More often, she used it just to play around. Outside of the gang, she kept her identity concealed, neither did make any more contact with her family. Despite running away, there was no news about it on her matter, neither was police sent after her. It’s as if her family decided to hide their embarrassment of a daughter as well. With money, of course.

Her life as part of the gang ended half a year later, however, when she came back to her territory after running an errand one day to find it being surrounded by police cars, and sirens pierced through the thin air. The whole gang, except for her, was arrested along with Cain. She was the only fortunate one to get out. At first, it didn’t seem all that surprising to her. Multiple gangs were caught like these anyway, and she was prepared that one day her gangster life would be over. What really fueled her rage, perhaps, was when she realized days later when a newspaper article caught her attention, that the gang leader Cain was accused of rape of a 16 years old girl.

There’s no way that could be real. The gang, despite all illegal activities, despised rape more than anything else. They were wolves, but never that low. Something must be wrong. She believed the gang leader to be innocent. Definitely innocent.

Following the news, Cleo learned of the day that his first trial would be held in court. Unsurprisingly, the judge was her father. She stood outside the court, yells and screams filled the air as the entrance door was busted by sudden orbs of white lights that exploded. Cleo hissed, her arm was bleeding from the backlash of her own explosion, but she managed to sneak into court anyway past the security system. Explosions followed one after another as she ran, her body wounded more and more by her own ability because she could not yet control how to use it without hurting herself, especially when she focused on making all the mini explosions happen close to her own body to avoid hurting people unnecessarily. It was a day of mess and chaos, FBI surrounded the building under the order of a terrorist attack, police cars filled the streets. Dragging her own body with her, Cleo managed to reach the courtroom Cain was in, which by that time was already mostly empty as people had already evacuated. She did not see her father, but she saw Cain briefly for a second, who smiled at her before escaping himself through the doors on the other far side of the room.

It was a smile of gratitude, at least that’s what Cleo believed. She did not have time to chase after him, for she was chased herself--the moment she turned around, she was already held by gun-point. Multiple FBI agents stood there. She was declared a terrorist.

Terrorist, huh. She felt apologetic for all the innocent people that got caught in this heinous crime of hers, Several days later, she would be surprised by her own relief when she learned that only eight were injured and there was no death as her result of her deed. To be honest, controlling her power back then was still difficult for her. When it was no longer just playing around, she found it hard to control her orbs the exact way she wanted it to be. It's hard to really limit the explosions to only happen around her to prevent anyone from coming close, and sometimes she aimed wrong when wanting something far away to explode to create a distraction, causing people to get hurt instead. However, that did not mean the walls didn’t crack and the carpets weren’t burnt as a result of her ability. In fact, multiple holes formed, some walls fell over, the chandelier in the ceiling collapsed, and she did create quite a havoc in the building. By this time, though, she felt almost no pity for anyone in the court system. They were all equally corrupted like her father, or so she believed.

At that time, as a last resort to escape, Cleo jumped out of the broken window, fell right into a garbage dump. She struggled to escape, and was fortunate to know that even though she didn’t have a brain for school she’s still witty by nature. Her experiences as part of the gang as well allowed her to escape from the police multiple times. She hid away from people, not knowing what ended up happening to the rest of the gang, or what happened to Cain as well. She was played on the news and was on the newspaper, her relationship with the gang exposed. Speculations circled around the internet as to how she was able to make the explosions, some suggested supernatural powers.

“Ah, I fucked up, didn’t I.”

The girl hissed, then. She got powers, and this is what she chose to do with it. She did not regret her decision, but there could've been better ways of going about this. Just as she was thinking about what to do with this life now with the police and FBI after her, she entered the Lumen World unknowingly. At first, it was all confusion and a "da fuck though" mindset when she was urged to enter the academy. However, when she learned about this world and their problems, she decided to use her power for good and try to save this world, as well as enjoy the fresh adventure. With the six other OtherWorlders, she was open to letting them know who she is, if they're not already aware when they saw her on the news. Overtime, they worked and fought together, and Cleo took a liking to them and valued them as her comrades.

After the Fangen Theater incident, Cleo grew very suspicious of the truth behind the incident. She has been trying to gather clues and evidence as to what may have really happened back then, and why the body of Professor Yue was never found.

code by @RI.a
 
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To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.
Elise Friedhelm
2nd generation otherworlder
001
002
003
004
  • 001
    basics
    attack
    defense
    mobility
    stamina
    tactics
    name
    Elise Friedhelm
    gender
    Female
    nickname
    Ellie
    age
    Nineteen (19)
    role
    2nd Generation Otherworlder
    marking
    Back of Hand (Left)
    appearance
    height
    5’0” (153cm)
    weight
    119lbs (54kg)
    In spite of her mature demeanor, Elise is neither particularly blessed in height nor does her subtle muscle tone show through her clothes. With every fiber of her clothes and strand of her ash blonde hair perfectly set, she comes off as more so an elegant young lady than a warrior. However, as a true specialist, any who have seen her use those deceptively thin arms to hoist up her near-comically massive shield know her as one of the best amongst her peers when it comes to defensive counters.

    As a side note, she tends to wear a pair of open palm black gloves to cover the mark on the back of her left hand without obstructing her grip on her shield.
    personality
    Shy but optimistic and compassionate, Elise was often compared to the likes of a sunflower that always faced the sunlit path. Her reserved nature and crybaby tendencies thoroughly convinced her that she was the least outstanding of the seven 2nd generation OtherWorlders, yet all knew and acknowledged her merits both on and off of the battlefield. In spite of her lack of offensive contributions, her specialty as a stalwart defensive pillar and moral support served as one of the backbones of her generation. No matter how much her spirit was shaken, she never despaired and her determination burned brilliantly—until the events from a year ago.

    In one night, the crybaby lost her ability to shed tears; her naive expressions were forcibly moulded into ones that were much more mature. It wasn’t as if she had devolved into a cold tyrant, yet there was a sense of a subtle change in the girl who had once smiled so freely. If someone came up to her, her words were still as gentle as before, but there was a much more placid quality to her tone, not out of shyness but weariness. Gradually, the barriers increased, and she began to refuse to consult even her old friends and comrades about her internal conflicts. It was as if she believed that it was a weight she could not afford to burden others with ever again: her shield was hers alone to bear.

    Most notably, the girl who had seemed to be oblivious to fury and resentment acquired the taste of bitterness and anger. Where she would have once mediated between two incenses individuals, there now exists moments in which she may impulsively fan the flames or start the altercation herself. This behavior is most often roused when the topic of The Incident from a year ago arises. She is particularly unforgiving towards those who badmouth her fallen comrades, especially Rei Fey and the Professor. For they were people who had sacrificed themselves for this foreign land. Nothing they had done deserved public scorn.
code by Nano Nano
 
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━━━━━━❦━━━━━━

Eiichi Kikuchi
(History Teacher)

━━━━━━❦━━━━━━

Age
31
Aappearance
eiichi.jpg
Even as Eiichi enters his thirties, his skin remains as smooth and pale as porcelain, and his hair black as ebony. He stands at an unimposing height of 5'7 with a lean, slender figure, and he moves with an air of grace that has been cultivated since his childhood. Part of his hair falls over the left side of his face, hiding an empty eye-socket - the handiwork of a Poex.
Personality
As a person, Eiichi is impeccably poised and polite, yet also incredibly uninviting. As a teacher, he is notoriously strict and blunt. Years of etiquette lessons and formal parties in his childhood led to Eiichi's tendency to be courteous towards everyone, but it has also ingrained a stubborn insistence on respect and discipline. In the past, he swallowed his complaints towards any injustice around him, but over the years, he learned that allowing others to tread all over him would do him no favors. Though still a quiet person by nature, he rarely hesitates to call out the mistakes and prejudice of students and colleagues alike.

Though he keeps most people at arm's length, the few who manage to earn his trust has him as a loyal friend. And behind his cold demeanor, Eiichi genuinely cares for his students progress and well-being. He holds high expectations, but would never put them down if they stumble and fail. He pushes them to hone their abilities, but would never put them in harm's way. If any of his students need to talk, he'd push aside all plans and make time for them. He doesn't ever want to be like how his parents were towards him, and he never forgot the kindness behind Ulyssa Yue's teachings.
Likes
Tea: He needs something to get him through the day. Chrysanthemum tea is his favorite.
Solitude: If he could help it, Eiichi would rather spend his entire day holed up in his pocket space.
Dogs: Give them pets and snacks and dogs will love you unconditionally. Eiichi finds them to be much easier than people.
Dislikes
Tardiness: If Eiichi is taking time out of his day for you, you’d better be on time.
Bullying: Any students who try this will receive zero mercy.
Coffee: The taste is too strong. Eiichi finds it unpalatable, but he doesn't dislike the smell of it.
Smiling: There are only so many facial muscles in a person, and Eiichi prefers to use them to scowl and scare people away. His students and colleagues have probably seen him smile only a small handful of times.
Chores: The only thing Eiichi misses about his family is having maids do errands and clean for him.
Background
Born to a prestigious family in Raevedel, Eiichi was raised with high expectations and stifling restrictions on his everyday life. He could only speak to those his parents approved of, only eat certain foods that would keep his figure the way his parents wanted, only take lessons that his parents thought were important... And as a child, Eiichi could only obey and endure.

But one day, monsters tore through the skies of Praeces and brought chaos to all its citizens. Eiichi's family was no exception. Just a few months after Doom Day, his father became one of the countless lives that were taken by the monstrosities. While his family mourned, Eiichi could only feel relief at the reprieve that this event has brought onto his harsh lifestyle. Yet, once his mother picked herself back up, she became much harsher towards Eiichi.

"Why can't you be more like your father?"

The same words, spoken to him time and time again whenever he failed to live up to her expectations. They only served to put a heavy weight on him and to drag him down. So when the Vehemen Academy opened its door, a teenage Eiichi leapt at the chance and escaped everything that he grew up with.

Being at the academy granted Eiichi more freedom than he ever had. He got to learn alongside people of all kinds of backgrounds, eat foods that he didn't even know existed, and he was free to use the powers that he was born with - something that his parents had strictly forbade. Still, the liberation came at a price. His family, despite their wealth and prominence, did not have a great reputation. That, combined with his subpar abilities and crude control over his powers, earned him the condescension of his peers. At first, it was just the incessant name-calling and teasing. But as they stepped out onto the battlefield, they forced him into the dangerous role of using his power to serve as bait for the monsters.

Most teachers turned a blind eye towards this. The only one who noticed the bitterness that grew within Eiichi was Ulyssa Yue. She became one of the first people to treat him with unconditional kindness, helping him with his studies and promising expulsion for the bullies if their behavior continued. Being his first role model, Ulyssa was the person that Eiichi wanted to be like. After Eiichi graduated, he continued his studies and quickly returned to the academy to as a new teacher.

Years passed by as peacefully as they could, but the Fangen Theater Tragedy occurred... Eiichi was present, and he still vividly remembers Ulyssa's last moments with him. Afterwards, he never spoke out against the rumors surrounding the incident, but the enigma surrounding that day still plagues him...

━━━━━━❦━━━━━━

Powers
Perception of Threat: Eiichi is capable of affecting how threatening he appears to other people. Regardless of his physical appearance, other people's knowledge of his abilities, or what weapons he is carrying, he can make himself seem like the most or least threatening person to those within up to a 40 meters radius of himself. However, he is incapable of manipulating how his targets react while under the influence of his power. Additionally, interference from other mental manipulation powers could potentially affect the potency of his ability.

Pocket Space: With just a thought, Eiichi can transport himself into a pocket space for an indefinite time. While inside, outside forces can't see or influence Eiichi and vice versa. He is able to travel across the real world while moving within the pocket space. However, distance within the space is much shorter than that of the real world. For example, if he enters the space, walks three steps, and returns to the real world, he will find himself several feet away from his original position. However, as he cannot see the outside world from within, he can't tread carelessly lest he exits into a precarious spot. Through physical contact, Eiichi is able to bring others in, and he can freely exit with or without them. He has yet to find a maximum capacity for the pocket space, as it seems to expand and shrink according to his needs. As a Dependency Power, he can't use this power to its full potential unless he is carrying his pocket watch. Otherwise, he can only stay within the pocket space for only several seconds.

Equipments
Pocket watch: Aside from strengthening his pocket space ability, it doesn't serve much purpose in battles.
Dagger: His means of attacking. He's honed his skill to make up for his lack of offensive power.

━━━━━━❦━━━━━━​



code by @spookie spook​
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Nora Glass​

"Why struggle?"
role: 3rd gen

age: 19

gender: female

sexuality: ace



BASIC INFORMATION:


Standing 5'11" tall and weighing 155 pounds, Nora would cut a much more impressive figure if she weren't constantly slouching. She dresses exceedingly casually, preferring sweat pants to jeans and sweaters easily two sizes too large for her. She tends towards neutral colours, preferring not to draw attention to herself or her interests. She moves with at a deceptively lazy pace, seeming more to meander than stride with any sort of intent. She almost drifts from place to place, often startling those she approaches. No one has been able to figure out whether or not this is intentional, but if one looks closely, they might catch the ghost of a grin on her lips as her (unintentional?) victims recover. As an Otherworlder, her mark sits on the nape of her neck, often hidden by swaths of loose fabric.

PERSONALITY:


Nora is, generally speaking, quiet, but this doesn't mean that she isn't opinionated. However, her opinions largely circle back to a core belief that life is only as difficult as you make it. If someone is complicating it, cut them off. If a situation is complicating it, walk away. Fundamentally, she recognizes that this is unhealthy, but also feels that it has largely worked in her favor thus far. She actively avoids conflict, preferring to seethe later and imagine her vengeance rather than to properly dole it out. Much of her free time - and she sees to it that the amount of it she has is maximized - is spent reading or playing games. She is prone to delivering borrowed one-liners from the novels she has read, and often draws comparisons between real life and game strategies. After all, what is life but one big game? And, since it is indeed a game, should it not be enjoyed?

BIOGRAPHY:


Nora was born painfully average.
Her upbringing was one familiar to many: a seemingly heliocentric family of three, her their sun. She felt the burden of their hopes and dreams from a young age, her parents both successful in their fields as academics. Her mother taught university level biology, and her father dedicated his life to developing biofuel-based gas alternatives. She struggled to live up to their expectations. And then, suddenly, a small miracle: a sister. A blank slate upon whom to impress the necessities of proper study and ambition. For, was that not what Nora lacked? Ambition?
Ciana, her junior by 8 years, was not lacking in this department in the slightest. She was the type whose walls were festooned with plaques and ribbons denoting achievements both major and mundane. School science fairs, piano recitals, track and field meets. Nora loved her for it. Not only in the sense she felt obligated to as her older sister, but also for drawing their parents' attentions. Now Nora was free, gradually carving for herself a largely isolationist lifestyle, hoarding books and video games to keep her company.
Alas, no good thing truly lasts. All beautiful things wither.
Leukemia. Terminal. No hope. And yet, her beautiful baby sister, now 10, fought. Her parents fought, both against the disease and against each other. Within 6 months of her diagnosis she was gone, and the household crumbled. Nora's parents separated - "Not a divorce," they said "just some time apart. To rebuild." Nora knew the truth though. If her father was the nail, her mother was the hammer, and no rebuilding could occur with them thousands of miles apart. She didn't know where her mother went, not really. It seemed she was everywhere, a new postal code on every letter. Her father was less difficult to pin down, becoming almost as reclusive as she. And all was quiet. Peaceful. Easy.
Then why did it hurt so much?
It was the day that Nora decided to walk that it happened. Another 6 months had passed, 6 months of whiling away the hours, days, weeks inside, immersed in ficticious worlds. They had all started to blur together, grey seeping in at the edges. It was suffocating, and Nora needed to breathe. So she just left, barefoot, clad in pyjama pants and a trademark baggy sweater. The colours outside seemed too vivd, seeming to grow in intensity with every step she took. The noises crushed in, hammering her eardrums with the sharp pitches of birdsong and the baritone grumbling of tires against pavement. The wind picked up, and she felt as if it might carry her away. Perhaps it did. She realized with a start that her fingertips had seemingly faded away to nothing, the colours leeching from her skin, arms disappearing as so much dust cast away by the breeze. It seemed odd, later, how little this had truly bothered her. Maybe she had been waiting. For something. Anything. Some drastic change, some clean slate. And then, she was whole again. Her world no more.
And a vast new one full of opportunity to be squandered.

OTHER:


POWERS
☾ DISSIPATE: Nora can, at will, disperse her body either partially or in full into microscopic particulate, creating a dense fog. She can manipulate these particles, be it to create a blinding fog, or to move at high speeds capable of cutting through metal. In combat, reluctant as she often is to participate, she often uses this ability on one or both arms, creating what functions essentially as invisible blades. Due to the nature of this power, she does not carry a weapon. If she disperses in full, she reappears with only her clothes, dropping any held items.
✰ FADE: Nora's minor power is a supernatural ability to fade into the background. Unless she makes her presence obvious, one automatically ignores her presence. This is generally used for such endeavours as avoiding being called upon in class, but she also uses it to sneak about undetected. Usually for extra dessert.
LIKES & DISLIKES
☾ DISLIKES: Large amounts of attention, loud noises, effort, boredom
✰ LIKES: Sweets, books, games, sleep, getting away with things
codedbycrucialstar​
 
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1580663585665.png
Name: Hanna Aldrin

Age: 17

height: 5'9

Weight: 110 lbs

Role: 3rd Generation

Location of mark: on her back shoulder

Personality: Hanna is a pretty goofy person on the outside, always making jokes in any situation. While this is how she is perceived on the outside, on the inside Hanna is a person of pure determination, and won't give up on anything, no matter how many times she is beat down. Hanna won't hesitate hurting someone if their in her way.

Likes: physical activity, Parties,shoes, friends

Dislikes: Party poopers, lazy people, rich brats.

Background: Hanna didn't grow up poor per say, her mom had a job that kept a roof over their heads. But she couldn't ask her mom for everything, if Hanna saw something in a store that she liked, she wouldn't ask her mom about it, because she knew that money didn't grow on trees. So Hanna took up jobs that go her a little cash, like moving a few boxes around to get a few bucks. And she put every single penny in a broken floorboard in her room. Soon, she would have a good amount of money saved up, enough to buy the things that she wanted at least. But then she was presented an opportunity at age 17 to get a load of money by robbing a jewelry store that had recently opened up. The job fell through, and Hanna was caught and was being driven down to the police station. While she was being driven down for questioning, Hanna's hands slowly started to light up into flames, and she panicked. But the cop wouldn't have time to pull over and tell her to calm down, because she would be gone, transported into another world far from home. Hanna would awake in the strange new land, unaware of what had happened, and honestly, she was pretty scared.

Major Power: Hanna can summon and control flames at will. At the moment, Hanna's control over fire is lackluster, and can only really summon small flames into her hands. But she can get more powerful, going as far as being able to form fire into arrows and launch them, and combust her entire body into flames. she can control the temperature of her flames, and depending on the temperature of the fire, the color may change as well. Hanna struggles to use her fire abilities is wet places, so if she is soaked in water, Hanna will have a hard time creating flames. She can control flames that she didn't create, but can't extinguish them

Minor power: Hanna can somewhat control wind. not enough to create strong gusts and tornados, but enough to power her flames to make them burn brighter.

Weapons: A sword that Hanna can use somewhat efficiently
 
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&& basics.
NAME Hashimoto Kiyoshi (last, first) ALIAS most simply address him as his first name, but he's not opposed to any nickname that you might want to try out AGE twenty years old by the japanese calendar, nineteen by the american GENDER cisgender male (he/him) ORIENTATION tentatively bisexual ROLE third-generation otherworlder student LOCATION OF MARKING left of his neck LIKES tranquil evenings, cool temperatures, clouds, the smell after rain, keeping his sword sharp, acoustic music, dusk, courtesy, predictability and routine, calligraphy DISLIKES high-pitched sounds, mosquitoes, sweet foods, skin-skin contact, failures (on his own part or that of others), ink blots, reminders of his own shortcomings, germs, contests of brute strength, himself a lot of the time
&& appearance.
Standing at 5'9" (175 cm) and weighing a modest 148 lbs (67 kg), he doesn't make for the most physically imposing person, but he carries himself with a unique kind of dignity that hints at there being more than meets the eye. He is slender but leanly muscled, a result of a committed exercise regime and disciplined diet. It's easy to pick his head of cerulean locks out from a crowd; he usually keeps his hair long enough to hang in his eyes, which are golden and inscrutable, giving nothing away while seeming uncomfortably like he knows much more than he's letting on. His skin is ivory pale with an unfortunate penchant towards resembling the complexion of a lobster if he's out in the sun for too long, and it's littered with a variety of silvery, healed scars.
&& personality.
Polite to the extreme, Kiyoshi is notably mild-mannered and soft-spoken. While not a pushover in any sense of the word, he understands that you have to pick your battles, and he prefers diplomacy over confrontation whenever possible—even if it may seem to an outsider like he's yielding. It helps that avoiding conflict means that he also avoids the spotlight, since he has a special loathing for being the center of attention. A gentleman through and through, he's gentle with a spine of steel: he is never one to swing first, but he is also not one to take abuse lying down, either. He takes care to not step on any toes, but there is an element of aloofness in how he interacts with others, as if he's unconsciously (or perhaps consciously) holding them at arm's length. Elegant and distinguished, sure, but also undeniably detached, a veneer of ice over his even temper; people find it difficult if not entirely impossible to truly warm up to him. He has the kind of composure that lends itself well to a high-stress situation, but it also means that he's careful to hold his cards close to his chest. Endlessly private, he's reluctant to let anyone in too close, and more often than not, actively takes steps to distance himself if he feels like that line is getting dangerously blurred.
But there is a reason for his iron-clad self-discipline. Behind his calmness and poise lurks something far more dangerous. While it would be a mistake to call Kiyoshi malicious, he is definitely more unstable than he wants to let on. With a guilt complex a mile wide, he has a special talent for regarding every casualty his own personal failure, every grave as a cause to martyr himself for. Nearly two decades of struggling and failing to reach his own impossibly high expectations has stretched him thin, a wire ready to snap. While his self-isolation is a weak attempt to protect himself (for if he knows no one well, then surely it will hurt less if they are lost), it has left him lonely, his own reticence a barrier that is keeping him trapped just as much as it is keeping others out. With no outlet and no one to confide in, the hairline fractures build until they risk a wholescale shattering—Kiyoshi has snapped in the past and will no doubt do so again in the future, and when he does so, it's anyone's guess whether he'll lash out at others or at himself.
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&& background.
Born to a wealthy elite family who cared about nothing more than what the world thought of them, Kiyoshi was brought up under an iron fist. From the moment he was born, his parents expected the world of him; they would hope for no less, after all, from their heir and only child. Scarcely had he come out of the womb when the full weight of their hopes rested on him: say your first words young, take your first steps early, pick up on curriculum quickly, do better, be better. He was whisked off to extra lessons with private tutors while his peers played and frolicked. His classmates' parents rejoiced if their children could write their name semi-comprehensibly, but his own would scold him for poor penmanship. The first time he ran to his parents' room after being shaken by a nightmare, they sent him back to his own room with a stern reprimand to grow up, Kiyoshi, only children fear dreams.
And grow up he did. What choice did he have? He had no chance to have a childhood, not like the ones he enviously watched his peers grow up experiencing.
He began learning the art of the sword at a young age. In the beginning, it was an outlet. While he dreaded his math lessons and his extra language seminars, he looked forward to his sword-fighting sessions with as much childish excitement as wouldn't get him in trouble. He had a gift for it, a natural agility and keen mind that had him improving at what his instructor called a prodigal rate. His swordsmanship was the one thing Kiyoshi held near and dear.
But even that was not enough for his parents.
Kiyoshi was good, a lauded child prodigy, but he was far from a master. And Hashimoto Daichi was nothing if not a master.
After hearing the instructor's compliments, Kiyoshi's father decided to test his son's ability for himself. He sat in on one of Kiyoshi's lessons, which made the boy endlessly nervous, but his performance was better than ever before. Daichi said nothing—he merely sat there, eyes narrowed and mouth stern. At the end, he rose to spar with his son, but he turned down the wooden swords the bowing instructor offered him. "No," he'd said. "To pull punches and play with toys is behavior befitting a child, and we are neither of us children."
We are neither of us children, and yet Kiyoshi was all of eleven when his father first drew blood on him.
It was a shallow wound but a long one, stretching from shoulder to torso, the result of a flick of Daichi's wrist. After Kiyoshi had dropped his own sword out of shock, his father did not follow suit, did not kneel to cluck concernedly over the injury like a normal father might have. He merely regarded his son with apathy before he turned on his heel and left, tossing a flippant "You can, and will, do better" over his shoulder. He didn't look back, even to make sure that his own son was okay. Pressing two palms to the blood that welled up in the cut, Kiyoshi watched him go. It hurt, but it would be years before he turned the memory over like a stone and recognized that the pain was not from the wound.
This would happen again, and again, and again. Because Kiyoshi was good, a lauded child prodigy, but his father had the latent talent of a child prodigy smelted by decades of experience, and Kiyoshi never stood a chance. His torso and arms and legs bore the evidence of continuous defeats.
Until. Kiyoshi was seventeen and freshly disarmed by his father's sword. With his own katana lying several feet away, he retreated only for Daichi to advance. By this time, Kiyoshi knew better than to plead with his father, appeal to a sense of sentimentality that he didn't have, and so he quieted the instinctive "Father, please," that bubbled up in his throat. Daichi swung, a wide arc that would have opened a nasty wound across his son's chest, and Kiyoshi flung an instinctive hand up. Stupid, he chided himself immediately after, and he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to lose a finger or two or five for his foolishness—
Only to hear the sound of Daichi stumbling, as if he'd lost his balance. Kiyoshi felt no pain, the sort customary when one lost fingers. Tentatively, he opened his eyes, just in time to catch a glimpse of his father's blade half-swallowed by a portal that had materialized in front of him, and appearing a hair shy of drawing blood. He blinked, and then the portals vanished, and his father's blade was whole again.
Kiyoshi was floored, and so were his parents. But it wasn't long before they took it in stride, by which it was meant that they sought to sharpen this ability like they sought to sharpen his intelligence, his tact, his sword-fighting. This was completely new, uncharted territory, and so he went along with it.
But there was no one they could find who could train his ability. Not even the Hashimotos and their wealth of resources managed to find an instructor with the credentials necessary to teach a boy who'd gained the ability to conjure portals seemingly out of nowhere. And, just as his parents hit a roadblock, so too did Kiyoshi. While they interviewed dozens of people a month and turned away just as many, he laid in his room, pondering what he'd accomplished in his life thus far. He had a remarkable propensity for being paraded around like award-winning livestock, a blue ribbon son always clawing his way towards the next milestone—always hoping for a smile, a nod, some gesture of approval from two people who were never pleased. It was no wonder his life felt so empty.
He resolved to turn that around. His newfound ability proved to be the key to a new path; his independence, he explained to his parents, was merely a tool to accomplish the very goal they had set for themselves, which was to better him in this newfound capacity. How could they say no?
Which wasn't to say that everything magically resolved itself. His parents were still waiting for him, somewhere, and though he refuses to admit it, he carries more than just physical scars as a result of an upbringing that sought to forge a trophy rather than a boy.
&& powers.
MAJOR: Dimensional Teleportation (Free Reign). Through creating two portals, one for an entrance and the other for an exit, Kiyoshi is able to transport any object (be it living or non-living) through space instantaneously. With this ability, he can divert projectiles headed his way, bypass physical barriers, and even instantly warp allies or foes closer to or farther away from himself. The travel time is nearly instantaneous; he is unable to create and sustain any sort of pocket dimension, and the object merely disappears at one point in space and reappears at another in the blink of an eye. He has no idea what would happen if someone managed to distract or injure him in the split second before he created an exit portal, especially if someone were traveling through; he can only tell himself that the chances of something like that happening are ridiculously slim, but he would never try and test it out on purpose.
Additionally, he can only create two portals at a given time, one entrance and one exit, and is unable to create multiple different wormholes simultaneously. And, while with training this is something that can maybe change, at the moment his range is limited by what is in his line of sight. If an archer, for example, is on the battlefield and someone he can see, he can warp an arrow by conjuring a portal in front of him that the arrow enters into, and make an exit portal behind the archer that the arrow flies out of—but if the archer is hidden within the depths of a tower, he cannot do the same. This directly changes if the tower (for some odd reason) happened to be glass which would allow him to see through it, at which point he can specifically position his exit portal in its interior with no problem since it is now in his line of sight.
MINOR: Cloaking (Free Reign). Fitting for someone who so desperately wants to avoid the spotlight, Kiyoshi is able to "cloak" himself and others, or hide them from sight. Depending on how much energy and focus he can devote to the task, he can technically hold it for an indefinite amount of time, though he has rarely gone beyond half an hour because the physical and mental strain increase exponentially after about thirty minutes of continuous cloaking. He must be touching an object or a person with a hand in order for them to be cloaked with him—if he's in the center of a group huddle, with a part of his body touching every single person, he would still only be able to cloak himself and those his hands are touching. It's also important to note that he only hides them from sight—they are still very much substantial and take up space, and should someone bump into them while they're cloaked, they would be detected. While being cloaked, he (and others) can be touched, heard, smelled, etc.
&& weapons.
Tombogaēri: Katana blade. His primary weapon, Tombogaēri is a traditional Japanese katana smithed from tamahagane, with a slightly curved blade stretching approximately two feet long, attached to a square guard and silk-wrapped grip long enough to accommodate a two-handed hold. He goes to great pains to keep up its condition, polishing it until it gleams and honing it every night so that it's so sharp he can practically cut himself looking at it. While his ability is Free Reign, he augments its use with Tombogaēri, deftly conjuring up portals that the blade can dip into and reappear close enough to his opponent to hurt them even while he's holding onto the hilt, bypassing their defenses and coming from completely unpredictable angles. It makes him a devastating swordsman, and he's become so adept at this that he hardly has to put conscious thought into his sword-fighting in order to manifest his characteristic flurry of steel.
Kintsugi: Wakizashi blade. He uses it far less than Tombogaēri, which he has adapted to close combat as well. He is, however, aware that a wakizashi is technically better-suited for close combat than a katana, and he doesn't want to be left defenseless should Tombogaēri be out of commission. With a shorter blade, Kintsugi is less conducive to be used in conjunction with his dimensional teleportation power, which means that he falls back onto more conventional sword-fighting methods when he wields Kintsugi.
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the pain layers itself and becomes shackles, and I have no time to cry
Mitra
arcane doll
001
002
003
004
  • 001
    basics
    attack
    defense
    mobility
    stamina
    tactics
    name
    VER. α-1
    gender
    Masculine
    nickname
    Mitra, Plant-sensei
    age
    ???
    role
    Teacher
    subject
    General Science
    appearance
    height
    5'10" (178cm)
    weight
    324lbs (147kg)
    At first blush, there’s nothing about the teacher known as Mitra that strikes passersby as unnatural. To the more observant few, they may feel that something is perhaps strange about his perpetually disinterested expression, yet they remain none the wiser about his true nature as an artificial entity.

    Born from a dollmaker’s passionate desire for a family, his vessel takes on the form that best suits his setting as the dollmaker’s son: neither too ugly nor too beautiful; neither too short nor too tall. His hair and eyes were also colored with the same unassuming browns as his creator. To the dollmaker, an individual's flaws were what made them most human, and any closer to perfection would make his “children” seem otherworldly. Furthermore, his body is unlike the earthen elements which comprise it. While golems of inferior quality may not even possess some crude semblance of a basic humanoid form, everything from the way his “facial muscles” move to the temperature and elasticity of his “skin” are in perfect imitation of the humans he was modeled after. Yet in spite of this precise mimicry, he never shows any visible signs of aging, much to the ire of certain associates. Simply put, his existence is (ironically) unscientific.
    personality
    A moodmaker, a prankster, and a childishly curious man with a dash of arrogance—he was someone aptly described using such words six years ago. Inevitably, his students and colleagues react towards said descriptions with disbelief, for the Mitra they see possesses a dry personality, perhaps even insufferably so.

    Regardless of whomever or whatever he’s facing, his visage flatlines into the same bland expression. He isn’t stern, per se, but wears a perpetually disinterested gaze, as if nothing in the world catches his eye. Whether or not he means it, most find him unapproachable as a result, and his stubborn tendency to refer to others strictly by their surnames hold them further at arm’s length. He hasn’t made any notable efforts to remedy his aloof qualities, either. Rather, he appears averse to the concept of acting or fabricating friendly words due to certain words that had been said to him in the past.

    Regardless, the few and far between willing to understand Mitra come to easily note that he is a considerate and honest individual at his core, albeit in a terribly awkward fashion. From the detailed notes he takes on each student’s strengths and weaknesses to furtively passing on that one cup of coffee a colleague needs to get through the day, he’s attentive to the needs and desires of others but doesn’t feel a need to go out of his way to make his actions known. In fact, his indifferent attitude while aiding others tends to make people question if he just happened to help them out in passing anyway. After all, his lack of expression makes his thoughts difficult to read.

    But he, too, wishes to be able to laugh and cry freely one day, just like his predecessor had.
code by Nano Nano
 
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Name:
My legal name is Minako Watanabe, but you can call me “Mina” if three syllables is too much for you to handle.

Age:
17, so don’t try anything funny.

Appearance:
Fi7WfSEZgiyyTYj_O7rP6eP7Pg4Noyt4h2r-lmuK-90wKDd0eQZa4jkmCQKz-95BSX66is16KFJjlPwW71pVdcw3QJTccuPx5eLAgw76SZCnzkYuuLIdnp7WRHK5H7zNHGLvaG7r

Okay, I know I’m that visually unique, so I’ll make this quick. I like school uniforms. Cliche, I know, but they’re easy to put on without a second thought and I look cute as shit in them. Generally speaking, I have at least two weapons on me at all times. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it? Nothing huge, though. Usually just a pistol and a combat knife.

Height:
5’5”, last I checked.

Weight:
130lbs.

Role:
Third generation.

Location of Marking:
You ever heard of a tramp stamp?

Personality:
I always hate this sort of question. You really want me to talk about myself for this long? Fine. First things first, I don’t tolerate bullshit very well. I don’t entertain grandiosity, unless it's my own. I’m sort of a hypocrite, but at least I’m self aware enough to say so. On the note of being self aware, I guess I’ll start with my negative traits, just to get that out of the way. I’m not renowned for being a nice person. Not very friendly, pretty cynical, you get my drift. I don’t take orders very well, either, unless I agree with that course of action. If you’re making a dumbass move, I’m not gonna make the same stupid mistakes you are. I’d like to say I have good tactical sense, anyways, so in that sort of situation I can be… bossy, in a way. Another thing about me is that if you fuck up, I’m going to remember for a long time. So make sure you don’t mess up around me, okay?

Likes:
Combat. One of my favorite things. The adrenaline rush from winning? From getting a kill? Priceless. Nothing beats it.
Cooking, believe it or not. It’s nice to be able to pass the time. A good stress reliever. Plus, I’m damn good at it.
Eating. See above.
Humor. I know I seem like a huge, emotionless bitch, but I enjoy a good joke, and I make a few, too. Not a guarantee that you’ll like ‘em, though.

Dislikes:
Pretty sure I already mentioned this, but bullshit. I like saying that I dislike bullshit because it’s general and I can apply it to a lot of things. So take that as you will.
Undeserved arrogance. I understand being cocky if you’re good at what you do. Like I said, that applies to me. But if you’re shit at your job and strut around like you own the place? You can fuck off with that.

Background:
Okay, I guess this is where I tell my dark backstory. Too bad that I don’t really have much of one. Where I come from, everything is pretty normal. That’s biased of me to say, I suppose, since that’s where I’m from. But it’s not like we have crazy monsters running around like you guys do here. I grew up as the daughter of two weapons manufacturers. Best way to describe my parents’ relationship is a “loveless marriage”. You know how rich people marry other rich people to keep money all in one place? That’s how it was. So, in short, my parents got married because THEIR parents wanted them to. And that’s what they wanted for me, too. Needless to say, I was not a big fan of that.

So I left. I got my shit, and I left. I didn’t really have any sort of goal in mind, but what I did have was a rather impressive knowledge of weapons. And that sort of knowledge is pretty useful if you’re a mercenary group. It also didn’t hurt that this was about the time where I discovered my first ability. As it turns out, being able to manifest any weapon that I knew the schematics for was pretty handy when someone tried to mug me in whatever alleyway I was holed up in at the time. With my skills and ability, I got picked up pretty quickly, and stayed with that group for three years. In that time, I rose through the ranks with not only my innate skill with firearms, but with another, newfound ability. In a combat situation, I found that I was able to pinpoint my immediate enemy’s weak points and develop a tactical plan based on these weak points.

Combat became my passion, and became what I threw myself into wholeheartedly. But, I got too ambitious. See, leaders of violent groups don’t like to feel threatened in any sense. They get kind of antsy when they feel like someone is going to usurp them. In this case, I was the perceived threat. The good news is, I had my own little faction of people underneath me who were more loyal to me than to my boss. The bad news is, what was a rather intense tension developed into what can only be described as civil war. And, unfortunately, my side lost. My subordinates were killed, and I was staring down a pistol when I blacked out. It’s a good thing, honestly. I’d rather be here than dead in some ditch.

Supernatural Powers:
Manifestation (FREE REIGN): I kinda already got into this, but I’m able to create any weapon that I know the schematic for from my body. There are little to no limits for this, except for the amount of time it takes to make a weapon. I specialize in guns, particularly pistols and handguns. They’re easy to memorize and are pretty small, relatively speaking, so I can create those in a matter of seconds. Larger items and schematics that I’m more unsure of take longer. For a point of reference, making something like a tank, while possible, would take literal days. The weapons I make aren’t connected to my person, though. I can make a handgun and give it to someone else. It doesn’t guarantee that they’ll know how to use it, though, so I don’t do that unless I know what they’re capable of.

Hunter (MINOR): Again, I said this before, but I can identify the weak points on someone’s body if they’re directly attacking me. This ability can’t be transferred to other people, though, so you’re gonna have to take my word for it. It also only really benefits me, unless someone else is working directly with me and I can direct them where to attack.

Weapons:
Isn’t this self explanatory? I use guns. ​
 
mitchelle springsmitchelle springs [class name="loveContainerMajor"] --accent: #aecc42 [/class] [div class="loveContainerMajor"] [div class="loveImageContainer"] [div class="loveMainImage" style="background:url(https://i.imgur.com/uHhebUi.png)"][/div] [/div] [div class="loveRightContainer"] [div class="loveTitleContainer"] [div class="loveStudentProfile"]Student profile[/div] [div class="loveStudentName"]song junhwa[/div] [/div] [div class="loveTabbedcontent"] [div class="lovePageContainer"] [div class="lovePage pageOne"] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]age[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]twenty-one[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]gender[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]male[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]sexuality[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]pansexual[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]occupation[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]vehemen student (junior)[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]classification[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]second generation otherworlder[/div] [/div] [div class="pageOneFlex"] [div class="pageOneList"] appearance: jun currently stands at 179 cm (5'10") and weighs 69 kg (153 lbs), though he was originally leaner, sporting a physique that landed him a modeling job back before in the ningen world. although he wouldn't be considered physically strong, his lean built contributes to his speed, agility, and stealth. his eyes are also light in color and his hair is naturally black, though he's notorious for often dyeing his hair (all thanks to lumen's impressive selection of beauty products).

location of marking: his marking can be found in the bottom left corner of his nape, where his shoulder junction meets the base of his neck. depending on what he wears, it can also often be spotted peeking out from underneath his clothes. [/div] [div class="pageOneList"] fashion style: somewhat surprisingly, jun prefers comfort over style, and can often be seen running around the campus with casual clothes and disheveled bedhead even at the most inappropriate times. however, once he steps foot off the academy premises, jun becomes incredibly nitpicky over his appearance and will ensure he looks his best - hair styled and fringe slicked upward to enhance his sharp facial features, clothes ironed and immaculate to highlight his cutting figure.

notable qualities: he has 5 total piercings and likes to wear rings. he's also often see with chains decorating his clothes or wrapped around his arms and legs (later to be explained in the weapons section). [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class="lovePage pageTwo"] [div class="pageTwoText"] [div class="loveHeader"]personality[/div] [div class="loveSubheader"]positive[/div]
adventurous, charismatic, dependable, quick-witted, resourceful, tenacious​

clever and well-spoken, jun has always managed to get along with those around him with an air of confidence and an easygoing nature, and it's no wonder why he's always found himself to be generally liked and respected wherever he goes. in a sense, he's rather eccentric in thoughts and in action, and his creativity seeps into a kind of curiosity that allows him to tackle anything, from field assignments to exploring new combat techniques to venturing out into other towns and cities and experiencing new foods and culture.

jun has also shown that he's rather reliable despite his occasional rants and complaints about early morning schedules and long boring lectures, and he considers himself to be a dependable upperclassman — perhaps even brotherly-like figure — who's more than willing to help his classmates and underclassmen with school assignments and other things. while he may initially appear intimidating due to his sarcastic manner of speaking and his naturally indifferent facial expression, jun warms up in no time and becomes very protective over those he holds dear and close to his heart, and one will come to find that he'll do anything to protect good people, even if it means straying from convention and risking his own safety.

[div class="loveSubheader"]negative[/div]
blunt, cynical, hypercritical, overprotective, petty, skeptical​

jun has always had a strong sense of responsibility to keep those around him safe, and following the events of the fangen theater tragedy, his fears of losing those he loves and of seeing them physically injured or deeply emotionally hurt have only worsened, augmented by the deaths of his fellow second generation otherworlders two years ago. these fears manifest in his overcritical, incredibly chiding tone and short-tempered fuse while on the field, and while some may be surprised by the sharp contrast of his typical easygoing and light-hearted nature, many others understand that his meticulousness is a result of the overwhelming burden of the tragedy that still haunts jun to this day.

despite this, he does greatly value perseverance and spirit, and will respect someone who struggles with mistakes but is genuinely willing to learn over someone who excels in everything but lacks compassion and humility. the reason stems from the fact that jun too used to believe he could succeed at everything, only to find that such overconfidence led to an unwillingness to learn, and that in turn came at the price of being unable to prevent tragedies and death. while it's irrational and even potentially unhealthy to place all the responsibilities and burdens on himself, jun would rather entrust this responsibility to himself than to others, and this becomes both a motivation and an obstacle to him following the year of the fangen theater tragedy.

[div class="loveHeader"]background[/div] [div class="loveSubheader"]the ningen world[/div] being the youngest in the family, jun grew up well-loved with lots of attention, and with this, he thrived in school and easily made friends wherever he went. his parents were both lawyers and therefore emphasized his intellectual pursuit, and like almost every other student in south korea from elementary to high school, jun was forced to attend tutoring sessions weekly; it was only due to this that he made relatively high grades in school as his tutors (and his older sister) would force him to complete his homework, otherwise he'd blow off everything and procrastinate whenever he could. fortunately, his parents didn't push him too much, and as long as he maintained a's and b's, he was allowed to wander off and go out after school and on the weekends with his friends.

jun's popularity and active participation in extracurriculars began early on in his life and lasted past high school, where he had been an officer for the student government all three years. unsurprisingly, he thrived in college as well, expanding his social circle and even landing a job as a part-time model for a popular clothing brand thanks to his charm and handsome features. it was only barely into jun's second year of university, however, that he discovered his powers. while it had been incredibly frustrating at first given how many things stuck to him (and how many times he had to absolutely run when a parked car he was walking past began to terrifyingly vibrate), it took about two weeks before he could figure out the basics of how to properly activate and deactivate the magnetism, and from then on for the next two months, jun began to secretly experiment with his powers, gradually learning how to gain slightly more control over them before his sudden emergence into the world of lumen where he would come to formally learn how to harness the potential of his powers.

[div class="loveSubheader"]life in lumen[/div] while everything he knew and had grown up with completely changed within a flash, jun's adaptability and social nature allowed him to adjust to his new life in lumen, and before he knew it, he had rapidly befriended not only the other second generation otherworlders, but also many of the other students at the academy who had originally grown up in this world. at the time, he had been known to be incredibly carefree and even somewhat reckless, though it was this fun-loving nature that attracted a number of people's curiosity and eventual liking, even for some of the students who'd previously patronized or disliked second generation otherworlders either due to spite or jealousy.

jun was intelligent, but he was also lazy and unmotivated, always looking forward to field assignments and combat lessons where he could show off and have fun and not have to pay attention to hours and hours of lectures. as a result, a portion of his grade suffered because he didn't take his didactics seriously, and instead he spent a majority of the time sleeping or daydreaming or passing around notes while in class. in the afternoons and evenings or on the weekends when there were no lessons, jun would often attempt to sneak out and venture into the city to have a good time with the other students he was close to, and while he's not particularly a bad student for breaking so many rules, it was clear that jun didn't take his studies seriously — yet, by a twist of some cruel fate, it's precisely this arrogant and irresponsible attitude that he eventually came to despise, both in his younger self as well as in those around him.

following the tragedy at the fangen theater that resulted in numerous casualties including the deaths of his loved ones, the free-spirited and almost unrestrained nature that once defined jun transformed him into a seemingly new person, plunging him into rage and bewilderment and grief over the losses of his closest companions, over the losses of innocent civilians who'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time. for a while, he was overwhelmed with a frenzy of emotions, all that threatened to spill over because nightmares plagued his dreams every night and no matter what, the thoughts that he could have saved more people, that he could have prevented the casualties had he just been stronger and smarter and faster and had taken every lesson, everything more seriously — and so when he finally emerged from the regret and guilt that consumed him, jun abandoned his once cocky and reckless attitude, instead replacing it with a willingness to learn and a will to improve.

in present day, jun is still, in a sense, essentially like his past self. time has healed him, and while guilt and regret still rests on his shoulders as a burden that never truly disappears, jun has returned to being the easygoing and lively person he was before the tragedy, always active in the community and happy to go out. however, the loss has brought about a newfound maturity that's not only guided him to discipline and humility, has also ultimately facilitated a sense of character growth in jun, leading him to become someone both he and others respect, someone who can protect good people and hope to stop another tragedy so that nobody else has to go through what he has.

[/div] [/div] [div class="lovePage pageThree"] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]supernatural power[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]magnetism manipulation[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]weapon[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]"haejang" (iron chains)[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]strengths[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]speed, agility, stealth, reaction time, strategy[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]weaknesses[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]physical strength, endurance, close combat[/div] [/div] [div class="pageThreeContainer"] [div class="pageThreeTab friends"]powers[/div] [div class="pageThreeTab foes"]weapon[/div] [div class="pageThreeTab lovers"]trivia[/div] [div class="pageThreeTab others"]relations[/div] [/div] [div class="pageThreeSelect"][/div] [div class="pageThreePage friendsPage"] [div class="pageThreeText"] jun's major power is magnetism manipulation (dependency type), which he uses to control his chains. he has no minor power. [/div] [div class="pageThreeText"] [div class="pageThreeTitle"]mechanism[/div] the core of his power lies in his ability to manipulate his own magnetic field — more specifically, jun's body essentially serves as a powerful magnetic field, and by controlling and strategically distributing the strength of charges throughout and around his body, he can command his weapon (which take the form of iron chains) to attack targets, deflect objects, and defend people by forming a wall of chain links like a protective barrier. additionally, because his body serves as a walking magnet and his power relies on the nature of physics, the properties of objects jun physically touches can also be manipulated, as magnetism relies on the dispersion of electrons and the motion of electrical charge, and he can distribute these charges accordingly as long as the object is in his hand or physically close enough to react to his body's magnetic field.

[div class="pageThreeTitle"]drawbacks[/div] while he's generally very agile and perceptive of his surroundings, the considerable amount of concentration required to control his chains by manipulating its magnetic properties as well as his own magnetic field can leave jun vulnerable to attacks from outside his periphery. it's true that his chains can be used to serve as temporary protective barriers or to block and deflect attacks, but the ability to defend himself and others derives from his ability to perceive the threat in the first place, and such awareness is compromised as an expense of his intense concentration on controlling his chains.

additionally, his power to manipulate electromagnetic properties is limited to his own magnetic field, objects he has physical contact with, and items with notable electromagnetic properties. [/div] [/div] [div class="pageThreePage foesPage"] [div class="pageThreeText"] jun's weapon takes the form of multiple iron chains, though he typically refers to them as one collective weapon which he's dubbed the name "haejang". [/div] [div class="pageThreeText"] [div class="pageThreeTitle"]haejang[/div] while iron in general is resilient in strength and powerful in conductibility, the special craftsmanship and enhancement of the weapon allows for jun's magical power to flow through them more efficiently and effectively, producing no lag time in responding to jun's command. the chains themselves have no conscience nor autonomy, but through manipulation of his body's magnetic field as well as manipulation of the dispersal of charges throughout his chains, jun is able to give them almost an illusion of life, as they follow the invisible electromagnetic forces and move in a seemingly snake-like motion.

[div class="pageThreeTitle"]form[/div] haejang is usually divided into a set of 3's or 5's, depending if jun only wants to wear them wrapped around his forearms or to wear them wrapped around both his forearms and legs. the chains are usually covered by clothes, make little to no noise, and feel weightless to him due to their attraction to his magnetic field and therefore he does not need to exert much physical energy to carry them around. the remaining chains are carried in a backpack he brings when heading to combat class or venturing outside the academy, and can be connected to form bigger chains for longer ranged combat. the head of two of the chains are attached to what resembles a spearhead or tip of a harpoon, though these points are capped for safety when not in use.

[/div] [/div] [div class="pageThreePage loversPage"] [div class="pageThreeText"] jun's likes, dislikes, and other information and forms of trivia. [/div] [div class="pageThreeText"] [div class="pageThreeTitle"]likes[/div] food, sweets, sleeping, comfortable clothes, challenges, field assignments, traveling, marketplaces and buying new things, gift and presents, free things, adventure, new cultures (both in the ningen world and in lumen), extreme sports, battle and combat exercises, animals and magical creatures

[div class="pageThreeTitle"]dislikes[/div] early schedules, didactic classes, long meetings and speeches, irresponsibility, arrogance, reckless behavior, pretentiousness, opportunistic people, disrespect and bashing of others towards otherworlders, lack of cleanliness, strenuous activity outside of combat training

[div class="pageThreeTitle"]trivia #1[/div] jun finds it quite amusing that his power is based in the nature of physics, considering it was one of the classes he loathed when he was still back in the ningen world. as a result, one of his inspirations for naming the chains 'haejang' derives from his high school physics teacher, mr. jang, as a way to somewhat honor the irony. the other reason for the name lies in the fact that jun misses south korea's food, as 'haejang' derives from the dish 'haejang-guk', which is also known as 'hangover soup' back in his original country.

[div class="pageThreeTitle"]trivia #2[/div] he still sleeps late and naps during classes, but it's no longer because he sneaks out or doesn't care about class — rather, he's found incredible interest in developing new combat techniques and in perfecting old ones, and it's a hobby he's become incredibly proud of. [/div] [/div] [div class="pageThreePage othersPage"] [div class="pageThreeText"] I'm definitely open to dms, so feel free to let me know if you're interested in collaborating or plotting relations! [/div] [div class="pageThreeText"] [div class="pageThreeTitle"]relation #1[/div] Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class="lovePage pageFour"] [div class="pageFourFlex"] [div class="pageFourInfo"] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]title[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]dream[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]artist[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]woodz, nathan[/div] [/div] [div class="loveInfoBox"] [div class="loveInfoTitle"]album[/div] [div class="loveInfoText"]demo[/div] [/div] [/div] [div class="loveMusicContainer"] [div class="loveMusicSquare"] [div class="loveMusicSymbol"][/div] [/div] [div class="loveMusicBox"] [div class="loveMusicHide"] [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class="pageFourLeft"][/div] [div class="pageFourQuote"] that's the thing about pain.
it demands to be felt. [/div] [div class="pageFourRight"][/div] [div class="pageFourImages"] [div class=" pageFourImage " style="background:url(https://pngimage.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/gray-square-png-6.png)"][/div] [div class=" pageFourImage " style="background:url(https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0061/8119/1793/products/af-700-storm_0d494bea-da6e-4acc-804a-37fe5ba96f40_900x.png?v=1571743258)"][/div] [div class=" pageFourImage " style="background:url(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcT0MUzGl_F-9lYeQaucjmfxWcE7zLd_VUFbNegSRH9wKltO80EX)"][/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [div style="color:#555;padding-left:10px"] [div class="loveIconTabs tabOne"][/div] [div class="loveIconTabs tabTwo"][/div] [div class="loveIconTabs tabThree"][/div] [div class="loveIconTabs tabFour"][/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [class name="loveContainerMajor" minWidth="820px"] width:800px; background:#fff; padding:10px; border:0.1px solid #f1f1f1; margin:auto; position:relative; display:flex; height:520px; [/class] [class name="loveContainerMajor" maxWidth="819px"] width:calc(100% - 20px) background:#fff; 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[/class] [class name="loveInfoBox" minWidth:"820px"] padding:10px 20px; display:flex; justify-content:space-between; border:1px solid #f1f1f1; margin-bottom:5px [/class] [class name="loveInfoBox" maxWidth:"819px"] padding:10px 20px; display:flex; justify-content:space-between; border:1px solid #f1f1f1; margin-top:5px [/class] [class name="loveInfoBox"] padding:10px 20px; display:flex; justify-content:space-between; border:1px solid #f1f1f1; margin-bottom:5px [/class] [class name="loveHeader"] width:fit-content; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; border-bottom:0.1px solid #f1f1f1; text-transform:lowercase; font-size:20px; font-weight:bold; margin:auto; color: var(--accent) [/class] [class name="loveSubheader"] padding:5px; text-align:center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size:10px; letter-spacing:1px color:#555 [/class] [class name="loveMusicContainer" minWidth="820px"] border:1px solid #f1f1f1; display:inline-block; padding:0px 15px 20px 10px; [/class] [class name="loveMusicContainer" maxWidth="819px"] display:none; 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[div style="max-width:800px;margin:auto;width:100%;font-size:8px;text-transform:uppercase;opacity:0.6;text-align:right"]cheers, koschei[/div]
 
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information
persona
history
powers
  • endo usami

coded by weldherwings.
 
Last edited:
[div class=fyuriwrapper][div class=topper][div class=charactername]Vehemen Academy Dossier
Maxwell[/div][/div][div class=wrappertwo]
[div class=left][div class=faceclaim]
[/div][div class=textarea][div class=subheader]I. Basic[/div]

Name: S. Maxwell

Age: 19

Role: 3rd Gen Student (OutWorlder)

Hunter Specialization: Mitigation Support / Conjurer

[div class=subheader]II. Appearance[/div]

Height: 5' 11" (180 cm)

Weight: 175 lbs. (79 kg)

LZmMVPh.png
Location of Marking: Upper Left Arm - Overlapping his Army Tattoo

Maxwell is an average young man, whose presence is generally voided among the crowd, like a gray man. Maxwell's appearance resembles the studious individuals that spend most of their time inside, and lack the grace of an inviting host. As a result of his self-imposed confinement, his skin is paler than most. Despite his impressions of a shut-in, his physiques are evident testament of his physical conditioning. Throughout his body are scars of a bygone incident that nearly cost him his life - something he felt necessary to wearing long-sleeves to cover them up. It was neither the shame nor grotesque nature of its aftermath, but a grim reminder of his upbringing, or in his world - downfall. Maxwell's slender form is a result of his late-night hobbies, accompanied by his finite meals and a bit of a nicotine addiction. While the man is well-built like most of his age, his nonchalant gestures and careful pacing shows an older gentleman in the guise of a teenager, particularly when he dresses formally.

Maxwell's uncommon taste for certain styles of apparatus gives many an impression of a scholar. His silky silver hair is like a waterfall of clouds that is fashionably secured by a black one-point ribbon, or generally rear-tied with a parted fringe. His long hair is seemingly untended, a reflection of his carefree personality. The foreign amber glints of his drowsy eyes keep strangers at bay - generally dismissive of those that meets him. However, in his occasional oblivious glare into the distance, Maxwell is a seemingly lax individual. To those that wishes to address him, the first contact are always met with an apathetic tilt of his head, accompanied by his prolonged stare into their eyes. Despite his awkward scrutiny of strangers and tendency for disassociation, the lingering aroma of scented notebooks and earl-grey on his garment generally puts his peers at ease.


[div class=subheader]III. Personality[/div]
Maxwell is a reserved and quiet personnel of interest. He tends to let his actions speak for him. As a man of varied interests, Maxwell generally dwells within his own thoughts and only address others when needed, albeit very frank at times. While Maxwell is able to read the mood of others, his studying habit and observation pastimes only serve to shape his indiscretion in the arts of human relations. Although his initial demeanor may be neglectful or often stoic, the man can show much affection for those around him, albeit undisclosed via his unspoken feelings. While he is capable of martial engagements, Maxwell tends to settle the matter at hand with words, and if all else fails - he will run. He is generally dismissive of subjugation by force or will, and prefers the strength of individual liberties. Ironically, personal space matters little to him, especially when his research or intrigues are involved.

RH1REp6.png
Likes:
+ Smoking
+ Assembly / Carpentry (a young dad in-training; have not shown any tendencies to build a porch or mowing the lawn at dawn; other related behavior includes occasional dad jokes)
+ Baking (usually confectioneries or cheesecake)
+ Coffee / Tea (enjoys brewing tea, as well as enjoying them)
+ Music (anything - including kazoo covers)
+ Flowers / Floral arrangements
+ Tailoring
+ Literature

Dislikes:
- Competition
- Hard labor (will try to sneak off)
- Explosions / loud noises
- Seafood (has a particular belief that a tentacle monster will drag him under bed if he eats too much sushi or something)
- Hyperactive individuals
- Fighting / getting into conflicts
- Verified instagrammers / Tik Tok users

[div class=subheader]IV. Background[/div]
VbyMUuF.jpg
Prior to his arrival in Lumen, Maxwell was a young lad with no particular goals in life. He had a brother that went on to serve in the armed forces. Following in his brother's footstep, or perhaps a certain intrinsic instinct that led him to enlist, Maxwell made it through boot camp and was deployed overseas in a certain middle eastern country that he could barely recall, or rather, he had chosen not to remember. Following a certain incident that nearly cost him his life in the mountains, Maxwell was pulled off the line to be treated. Despite his eagerness to serve, he had failed all his medical exams. Eventually, he was medically discharged with no pension.

Destitude and forlorn, Maxwell sought to go back to school, but could not afford without his pension. Anger, frustration, and despair filled him. Taking up different part-time jobs and minor professions and crafts, Maxwell lived by the day. Eventually, he stopped thinking about the future, and gave in to the fleeting life that he was familiar with. He tried to cope with civilian life, but failed to do so. Where social acceptance failed, Maxwell eventually developed a reclusive lifestyle, and then some. He began to pick up on literary research and floral arrangements, to keep his mind off of the cruel world that spelled out his fate as someone who couldn't push forward.

The mundane life of a unsung soldier soon turned for the worse when late night studies and multiple shifts culminated in a rather melancholic finale. Torn gray of his work, Maxwell gave in to his exhaustion amidst daylight, as he was crossing the street. A truck going full speed, and an oblivious grayman only spelled disaster. It was supposed to be a fitting end for him, he thought. But yet again, he was disappointed.

He couldn't even pass on properly, as he now found himself in a foreign land. Following a brief period of going around to figure out where he was, Maxwell was soon picked up by a group of individuals that called themselves the Vehemen Hunters. Of course, the first thing he did when a bunch of strangers showing up to take him somewhere was obvious to him. Without a word, he ran. It took them half a day to catch Maxwell. He hated the Army, but they did taught him much when it comes to running. When he was caught, Maxwell did not resist, as he knew how helpless his situation was, and that it was best to play along. The rest are history, as Maxwell was eventually inducted into the academy. Initially, he viewed it as a nuisance. But deep down, he was somewhat glad, as he had a purpose to latch on for now.

"What do you mean running isn't a viable tactic?"
- Maxwell​
[div class=subheader]V. Abilities / Gears[/div]

JF0L4qs.png
Abilities / Powers:
[Major] Writer's Theses
Maxwell's staple ability is being able to materialize any sort of parchments into a weapon, albeit less durable compared to the Constitution's. With the help of his grimoire, "Constitution", he is able to conjure more refined weapons, due to the book's magically-woven pages. Each page are usually written and prepared prior to going on the field. Utilizing the Constitution's ability to materialize most things that he can conceptualize on the pages, his arsenal is generally diverse. For offensive options, he could be throwing materialized projectiles at his opposition to give them a few paper cuts (heh), for defensive - forming an array of shields to protect his allies. Despite his jack-of-all-trades ability, each materialized weapons dissipates after exhausting its durability - the rarer the refining material, the longer it lasts in battle. Most of these materialized weapons are physical in design and conjuration. As such, Maxwell is unable to materialize direct arcane spells such as: a fireball, an icicle spike, or a lightning bolt, etc..

[Minor] Amendments
Certain indexes in the Constitution are imbued with healing stimulant ingredients. This enable Maxwell to develop certain pages of his grimoire to heal others upon proper channels. The pages are applied similar to bandages or potions in form of a parchment, where it coagulates open wounds, expedite healing process (if wounds are internal), or stimulate reflexes to give his fellow comrades an extra boost in battle for a short period of time. Have a headache? Maxwell will slam a page against his peer's forehead like an eviction notice. Like the healing ingredients suggests, this ability can only heal organic matter, not mend buildings.

Weapons:
[Constitution] - A soul-bound grimoire that houses countless theses and arcane knowledge that are woven into every pages. Each page is a particular set of arcane ideals that are able to manifest itself upon being used. The grimoire itself acts much like an inventory ledger that can house items, literally. The Constitution is generally used in combat as a medium to weaponize what was written on the pages. For example, a theses on a sword concept can be ripped from the book and materialize as a temporal blade for Maxwell to use. The Constitution mostly materializes physical concepts of each theses and vary in size, depending on the Maxwell's focus. He has certain bookmark for a variety of abilities, all must be written and prepared prior. With each page ripped, it will dissipate after use. Maxwell also frequently uses Constitution as a workshop to test his ability designs and concepts by trials and errors.

Maxwell has a satchel that contains an extract of most ingredients in case he has to craft pages on the go.

[/div][/div] [/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
.
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[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:1300px; min-width:300px; margin:auto; background:#e5e6e5; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=topper] min-height:200px; background:#1a191a; color:#fff; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; overflow:hidden; padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=charactername] display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; flex-direction: column; min-height:200px; center; color:#fff; font-family:'Poiret One', Verdana; font-size:50px; font-weight:bold; line-height:45px; letter-spacing:3px; [/class] [class=wrappertwo] padding:10px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=left] width: 300px; border:10px solid white; [/class] [class=faceclaim] display:inline-block; vertical-align:top; width:300px; margin:auto; height:500px; text-align:justify; background: url('https://i.imgur.com/uexaQBv.png?1') no-repeat; background-size:cover; line-height:0; [/class] [class=textarea] flex: 1; margin-left:10px; height:520px; overflow:auto; min-width:300px; text-align:justify; padding:5px; box-sizing:border-box; color:#1a191a; [/class] [class=subheader] border-bottom:1px solid #1a191a; display:inline; color:#1a191a; font-family:'Poiret One', Verdana; font-size:30px; font-weight:bold; line-height:40px; padding-right:150px; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:1300px; margin:auto; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; font-size:10px; opacity:0.5; [/class]
 
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