Characters & Relationships

[TrashierThanThou]

1. Character Sheet

Name
Include full name, nicknames, as well as any titles.

Age/Gender
Self explanatory.

Appearance
Your character should be a human, or some sort of hybrid. Characters of other species can be considered, but generally we aren't looking for any. Faceclaims are welcome.

Personality
What is your character like? Give us a general idea of your character’s mindset and personality.

Strengths and Weaknesses
Each character should have strengths and weaknesses. We aren’t looking for a Mary Sue, so make sure that your character is realistic and, in turn, flawed in some manner.

Affiliated Faction
Note that there is a clear cut line between Technologists and Mageborn. Your character is either one or the other. If you choose to make your character affiliated with a third party, make sure to discuss it with the Council before creating your character (IE: Independent traveller, terrorists)

Backstory
We want a brief history of your character (up to his/her present age). Who is this character? What is the character’s social status/role? Why does the character act the way he/she does? Brevity is the soul of wit, but write as much as you need to fully realize your character.

 

[TrashierThanThou]

2. Relationships

Because of the number of characters in this RP, a relationship chart will be drawn up once all characters have been logged in to avoid any confusion.

Coming soon.

 

[Blood Born Angel]

Name: R'saava Sgiathach (Riss-Ah-Vah Scee-Uh-Thatch)
The Technomancer
Lead Scientist of Axiom Inc.
The Dragon Lady

Age/Gender: 31. Female.

Appearance:

R'saava is 6' 2" and well toned for a lady. Her hair is like a lizards frill and bright red, along with her eyes being a deep crimson hue. She usually wears a tight fitting suit that accentuates her curves nicely, and sometimes puts on a long trench coat when the weather isn't favorable. Down her spine is a silver mechanical device that extends past her tailbone into a robotic tail-like appendage. The device is the main component of a suit that partially adorns her body on her shoulders, forearms, shins, and the sides of her thighs. It can transform into a battle-suit that armors the rest of her body in a dragon-esque appearance. She has a helmet that can interface with the spine, and various other possible attachments to the suit as well.

Personality: R'saava is a mix of bitter and sweet. When in a good mood she's energetic, playful, and optimistic about most things. She's highly intelligent, but will defer to her instincts more often than logical deduction. She has a hunger for knowledge, and thinks outside the box quite often. She has no ill feelings for the Mages, but cannot tolerate their intolerance either. When in a not-so-favourable mood she can be fiery, angry, and spiteful. A lot of people have taken to calling her "The Dragon Lady" to which she responds to by singing their eyebrows off. At the very least.

Strengths and Weaknesses: R'saava is very intelligent and skillful in both hands-on scientific engineering as well as theoretical sciences; however, she doesn't often make "rational" decisions. She lives by her emotions, which tends to get her in bad situations, and sometimes lead her to hasty conclusions. She's pretty strong and a skilled combatant even without her exo-suit, but she lacks many social skills. Often coming across as too eccentric for most people. She also has a strong irrational fear of deep water, despite being able to swim very well.

Affiliated Faction: Technologists.

Backstory: R'saava grew up a fighter, not a scholar. Her childhood was not an easy one, and she often got into fights and struggled to survive. Her family was dirt poor, because her father had disappeared not long after she turned eight. Her mother was sick, and couldn't do much for work so the child took to the streets to earn a living. She may have been young, but R'saava was smart. She was skilled with her hands, and pretty tough, so she made a decent wage doing hard labor as a mechanic's assistant. If it wasn't enough some months she would steal what she needed. Or perform little shows with pyrotechnics. As she got older and better she became well known as an illegal arms dealer. She could rig explosives and tinker with almost any sort of mechanical device. Her mother couldn't work anymore at this point, but she was making enough money to keep them afloat. Even if it wasn't the grandest way of life. However, her scope broadened when she was ran across a theoretical speech on robotics one day. She was fascinated with the ideas presented by these rich scholarly people, and her brain raced with ideas of her own. Soon, she began hoarding knowledge in any way, shape, or form. She turned away from weapons and began tampering with prosthetics and "enhancers" to the body. She helped a lot of people by making robotic limps, and by her later years even small implants to help see or hear for the impaired. Despite being some underground mechanic, she was soon at the forefront of robotic engineering, and people took notice.

She was offered a more respectable job working for a company that did about the same as she was on the streets. At first she didn't like the idea, as she wasn't fond of richer folk. Eventually she was coerced by the pay, and the offer of treatment for her mother so she wouldn't be bedridden. R'saava spent the next 10 years working as a scientist for a subsidiary of Axiom Incorporated, and also earning a formal education along the way. In the last few years she has reached the top of her career, becoming the head scientist for Axiom Inc. experimental branch of weaponry. She guided the rest of the teams in what direction they should go in development, and often took a hands-on role with her staffs projects as well. R'saava's specialty had become robotics, and so she helped design the most recent models of mechanized infantry and drones. As a pet project, she began on her very own exo-suit that she wears around almost daily now, even if it's only a prototype. She hopes that she can take what she's learning while building her suit and apply it to the war effort directly and help save lives by giving soldiers enhanced abilities beyond their normal scopes. She may not like the thought of making weapons again that much, but she feels that after the war their efforts at Axiom will have brought the Technologists to a new age of prosperity.

 

[FirstDeath]

General Info
Name: Ingen Kikundi
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Currently Straight, but We Shall See
Affiliation: Neither Faction, but more likely to sympathize with Technologists

Appearance: Ingen is a short female with long, messy, reddish-brown hair. She has numerous scars on her neck and face, a particularly large one across her right eye. She often wears a face mask with a depiction of a skull printed on it, which she takes off in front of no one, but removes when she is alone.

Personality: Ingen does not trust anyone and is very cold to those who approach her. When asked questions, she either does not answer and stays silent until the other person is uncomfortable or gives an vague answer that leaves the asker mystified. When complimented, she says an empty, almost sarcastic, "Thank you," and returns to silence. However, past her bitter personality, she wants to feel emotions like compassion and sympathy, but does not know how to and does not trust anyone enough to learn. She only knows to cry for those she has lost.

Combat
Equipment: Ingen is outfitted with a seemingly innocent jacket that hides two switchblades beneath her sleeves that can extend half a meter past her wrist when opened. She also carries multiple throwing knives in her pockets but does not have the precision nor accuracy to use them effectively.
Abilities: Ingen has very little Technological Knowledge and even less Magical Ability. As such, she has chosen to specialize in bladed weapons. She can use any sword, knife, or dagger, but prefers her switchblades. She is also very good at stealth and adapted to assassination.

Strengths/Weaknesses:
+As Ingen has little experience in Technology and no Magical Ability, she has spent her six years of freedom practicing blades. As a result, she is almost unmatched in her skill at bladed weapons.
+Ingen is an assassin, and thus has immense training in stealth. She has trained so vigorously that if her opponent looks away, even for a second, she can disappear into what seems to be thin air.
+Ingen realizes that she has virtually no defense against ranged attacks, and has dedicated some of her time to preventing deadly projectiles from hitting. She can situationally deflect magical missiles and spells, and under very specific circumstances, bullets.
+Sometime during her stay with the Nightclaw clan, Ingen wandered into the kitchen and worked as a Chef Assistant. Now, she can cook incredibly well, but has no one to share her talent with.
-Assassins don't typically like directly clashing with their opponents. While she is perfectly content with a face-to-face confrontation, Ingen despises it.
-Ingen has never handled a gun in her life, and does not make up for it with skill in throwing knives. She suffers greatly when forced to fight from a distance.
-While it is true that the Nightclaw clan has kidnapped her and done unspeakable things to her body, Ingen has also seen the evil in Technologists during her stay. She is not entirely sure which side of the war she is on.
-Ingen doesn't exactly have the best of childhoods. Her years of torture and rape combined with the fact that those she cared most for were dead, some by her own two hands, has lead to lifelong emotional trauma.
+/-Ingen does not trust anyone. While this does render those who intend to harm her unable to do so, it also prevents those actually trying to help her to achieve that.
+/-Ingen is fueled off vengeance. While vengeance is a strong enough emotion to improve performance on the battlefield, it can cause her to be reckless when confronting those she seeks revenge after.

History: Ingen was a cheery little girl with loving Technologist parents and a warm neighborhood. She was the sunshine of everyone's day and would always cheer someone up. All was going well and Ingen's life was a utopia, until one day when she was 10 years old.

Her town was raided by the Nightclaw Clan in broad daylight. They ravaged the village, keeping everyone they came across hostage. Ingen's parents and neighbors tried everything in their power to keep her from the cult's grasp, but several well placed magical bolts toppled a building and separated the child from those trying to protect her. More magical missiles discouraged them from turning around, and Ingen's parents were forced to leave her in death's clutches.

All of the cheery emotions Ingen once had inside her were all gone as she was escorted to the Nightclaw castle. They were all replaced by various different versions of fear as she was tortured and abused by the Radical Mages. Every day the pain got worse and worse and every day her hope of rescue was diminished.

One day, when the last of her hope seemed to have been lost, her hands glowed a soft blue as she was about to fulfill her duty as a sex slave. She subconsciously channeled this energy and fired a magical bolt at her master, narrowly missing his face. His eyes trailed the projectile and then relocated back to Ingen, who was now scared for her life. She gulped and took deep breaths as her master walked closer and closer. Ingen closed her eyes, but reopened them to see a slight smile on his face. "You can learn magic, can't you?" Ingen nodded her head slowly, and took her master's hand as he lead her to another room.

She met a strange man in there. "Come," he said, "Stand." Ingen did as told. "You," he said, addressing her master, "Why is she here?" "She appears to have the ability to learn magic. Just now she fired a magical bolt that narrowly missed me." "I see. Ingen, am I correct?" Ingen nodded. "By any chance, do you have Mageborn blood in your veins?" Scared that if she answered wrong she would end up back where she was, she said what she thought they'd like to hear. "Yes," she lied. "Interesting. We apologize for not realizing sooner."

From then on, Ingen was treated as her parents treated her. She was showered with love and affection just as she was back home. This special treatment brainwashed her, and she was taught that Technologists were the scum of Avarein and needed to be "sent back to the gods." She was trained to harness and control her magical energy and to use it to incapacitate Technologist targets. But her magic was deadly, so Nightclaw made her into an assassin. They adjusted her instruction to focus on stealth and used her to kill high value targets. And she was very good at her job.

At age 21, Ingen showed exceptional skill with wiping out single targets and increased in popularity for being a ruthless killer. The clan leader decided to give her a new task: to take out an entire Techie village. With of course, her colleagues to also relish the murder.
Under the vast blanket of the night, Ingen and her group approached the small town completely undetected. They made their way through the residences, ending each life swiftly and silently. As Ingen blew each of her targets to smithereens, she began to notice something about them. There was a certain familiarity about them. It was almost as if she recognized her victims.

As dawn began to approach, Ingen neared the last home. She walked in silently, carefully treading the wooden floors into the master bedroom. There, she found the only two people who remained in the village. Two magical bolts through each of their chests silenced their breathing instantly.

Ingen was early, five minutes ahead of schedule. She stared at her two kills and analyzed their faces. They were incredibly familiar, more so than the others. Shreds of tiny memories began to flow back into her head, but she could not grasp the identity of the couple.

Ingen surveyed her surroundings. There were numerous photographs of the couple with a small girl in between. She skimmed the photos, trying to recollect all she could about the pair. As she got to the last photograph, memories began to flow in in uncontrollable amounts. The picture was of the same couple and child, only there were words, printed in cursive, reading, "We love you, Ingen." She hid the artifact inside her jacket.

Ingen was horrified as she reunited with her group and made her way back to the castle. The flow of memories was overwhelming, and the new emotions it brought were absolutely alien. She was welcomed, along with her crew, to celebrate the mass slaughter, torture, and rape. Her comrades congratulated her for murdering so many targets in such rapid succession. She answered with empty replies, making her way to the back of the room to sit and cry.

Ingen was staring so hard at the photo that she didn't notice one of her cult members staring over her shoulder.
"You didn't want this life, did you?"
His deep voice startled Ingen as she crammed the photo back into her jacket. She sat silently, sniffling softly, waiting for him to continue. "I can tell you don't belong here. Normally, that would raise an alarm and I would arrange to have you killed, but let's not do anything irrational here." He extended his hand, and lead her into another room, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing toward the chairs in the far corner of the room. Ingen did as told, and the man sat across from her. "The emotions. They're coming to you, aren't they? You feel this is, morally wrong." Ingen nodded. "I guess you are one of strong ones, huh. You resisted the brainwash." She shook her head and showed him the photo. "My parents," she choked, "I killed them." "That's rough. The emotional trauma from something like that stays." Ingen nodded, slowing her tears. "I've only stayed because I felt I was trapped. I couldn't go anywhere and was obligated to stay. But you. I've had my eye on you for a while. You don't have to be here. You could be so much more. I see the potential in you. You are, after all, the only Technologist to be admitted into this clan."

Ingen blushed madly, asking in a shy voice, "What now?" "Well," he started, "I'm getting you out of here."

Her jaw dropped at the preposterous idea. "But how? So many things could go wrong!" Her voice was suddenly full of concern and worry. "You know, you'd be committing an act of treason if you helped me escape." He looked her dead in her eye and smiled. "I know. I don't care." He grabbed her hand and lead her back to the party.

They snuck their way past the groups of drunk Mages and exited the hall, treading carefully to the exit. Other members walked by, questioning their destination. "Where are you going?" They would ask, and he would always respond with, "I'm just walking around with my er-" And it would work. They would believe him.

But not everyone was as gullible as the rest of them. "Where are you going?" The woman asked. "Nowhere, Mira," he replied, "I'm simply taking a walk with my er-" "You are not allowed past the castle gates at night. Take her to your room." "But why would we sit in that dull room when we can tour this grand castle? Being stationary in a place identical to the ones next to it is rather bland." "That does not concern me. You are not to leave under any circumstances." "But we are not leaving, we are simply looking around." "Looking at what? The path you are taking leads directly to the exit." Her tone grew more and more suspecting with each question. "It's just a walk. Calm down, Mira." "It's a walk along the exit, which is for forbidden to go through at this time. This whole thing seems very suspicious. Perhaps you two should come with me." "Sorry, but that's not happening."

He shot an explosive ball of magical energy that Mira barely dodged, but it temporarily distracted her. His voice changed from soft and gentle to stern and demanding. "Run."

Ingen did as she was told. She ran for everything. She ran for her life. She ran for her family. She ran for him. And he followed, firing explosive bolts into ally ranks only to protect her. They breached the exit, but were cut off by a few guards. They were no problem, however, and Ingen easily shot them down with magical missiles.Behind her, she could hear explosive projectiles covering her.

As she made her way into the trees to hide, she called behind her, "We did it!" But she did not get a response. Ingen stopped and turned around, and saw that the man whom she had began to develop feelings for was captured and struggling for freedom. She stopped, channeled all her magic, and released into nothing. Ingen was shocked. She seemed to have lost her magical ability. It was unbelievable. He risked everything to get her out, and she couldn't even help him in the slightest because she no longer knew how to use magic. Overwhelming feelings of guilt flooded her as their eyes met one last time and he smiled, mouthing, "Ingen, run."

Ingen nodded, tearing up, realizing she never even got the man's name. She turned back and ran, sobbing uncontrollably.

Relationships:
-Mira: Ingen met Mira when she was 14 years old and since their encounter, they pretty much never spoke to one another. Ingen always felt neutral toward her, and at some times while she was in Nightclaw, looked up to her. But she no longer thinks of Mira in a objective manner. Ingen blames Mira for the death of her only friend, and has an almost psychopathic desire to see her dead.

 

[Shiore]

Name: Gaia Umbellularia

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Sexuality: confused noises (Gaia's not the best with romance or attraction...)

Appearance: Gaia has forest green eyes and brown hair dyed by the sun, which she wears in a messy bun pinned up by silver laurels, a gift from her mother. She usually has on comfortable clothing in earthy colors, like a sweater. On her back is a pink, crescent shaped poppy tattoo that blooms when she uses magic. (See image below.) Everywhere she goes she carries around a leather shoulder strap bag, which usually contains money, a book categorizing pressed plants she’s found, a few empty vials for potion making and a satchel of seeds. Gaia also has scars on both of her hands which she receive from an accident as a kid. Sometimes there will be a smudge of dirt on her face or a leaf in her hair if she's was particularly intrigued and caught up in her journaling to forget about appearances.

​

Personality:
Born and raised in a modest yet respectable family line of quite powerful mageborns, Gaia from a young age showed that she was skilled with magic. Her strong affinity with nature and powerful magic landed her a spot in one of the most prestigious mages schools that helped her work on honing her skills. Many job opportunities were open to her, but Gaia's love for books made her choose a job as a librarian and caretaker of the ancient and magical books which reside in the Great Library of Alexandria at the checkout desk. Gaia also works on her own journal, in her spare time to categorize plants she's seen and how they could be used in potion making.

While she’s not working at the library or working on her journal, she’s gardening outside or tending to the numerous houseplants inside. Gaia also likes to bake and read about rare and obscure plants (aka she’s a hUGE NERD). Gaia usually has a sunny deposition and is a slight introvert, preferring small groups over large crowds and public events. Formal events make her nervous, and sometimes she prefers the company of plants over people. She can be a bit of a dork and will 10/10 have a talk with you if she sees you littering or harming the environment.

Strengths/Abilities: Gaia has extensive knowledge in plants and potion making. She has the power to control nature to her will, using it offensively and defensively in combat whether its making a wall of thorns sprout or tripping an enemy with tangled vines. Gaia also has the power to speed up plant growth and revitalize dead plants.

Weaknesses: Gaia relies heavily on magic, so her physical defense and attacks are relatively weak. Another thing to note is that Gaia needs an organic surface (wood, dirt, paper.. etc) or an existing plant-matter to use her magic. Surfaces like metal and glass wouldn’t allow her to grow plants. Gaia also has claustrophobia, small enclosed spaces makes her hyperventilate and anxious. She doesn't like to bring up her fear to others and usually keeps it to herself.

Faction: Mageborn

Backstory/History:
10 years ago, the Umbellularia house

“But I need this flower to make a healing potion for Alfie’s paw!” Gaia shouted, holding up a thick book of plants to her mother’s face open to a page where a flower was beautifully illustrated. A tiny Pomeranian limped behind the girl, giving a small yelp.

“Gaia, I know you want to help him as fast as possible,” Her mother sighed, carefully lifting the sandy colored dog out of Gaia’s hands, “But the Lunam sanans only blooms at night. It’s too dark so let’s do that tomorrow okay?” She plucked the book from Gaia’s tiny hands and placed in back on the impressive bookcase.

“Okay…”

When the moon was high up in the night sky and Gaia was sure both her parents where fast asleep, she crept barefoot down the stairs, making sure to be extra careful over the creaky fourth step. Slipping out of the back garden door quickly, Gaia pushed a rusty, overturned bucket to crawl over the fence and into the woods.

Gaia knew the woods well, but through the clouded moonlight she could barely make out the shapes of the trees. The dirt was cool beneath her feet and she could hear the trees whispering as if they had secrets to share to each other. Running her palms against the trunks of the trees to guide herself, Gaia made her way deeper into the woods. Just a little further and-

A gnarled root caught her foot, and before Gaia could react she was tumbling. The misty sky blended with the ground below as she fell into a deep cave, tearing her nightdress and breaking her hand as she plummeted down. When the world seemed to stop spinning she sat up, bruised and cut around her feet and arms. Gaia looked around, the cave was almost vertical and almost pitch black, the meager moonlight that shone through the entrance where she fell.

Gaia was crying, but she wiped her tears and snot from her now dirt covered face. “I’m a mage, I can get out of this myself,” she whispered hoarsely, stumbling up on her two feet. Placing both hands on the wall of the cave, Gaia tried to make a vine, a tree branch, anything she could use to climb out grow but just as the magic began to spark at her fingers they sputtered and died.

“What? Why won’t my magic... Agh!”

Gaia touched her left hand, and she felt something wet and warm. Drawing her left hand into the light she saw that her was bleeding and broken, Gaia dropped to her knees. She couldn’t do magic without two hands like her mother yet and there was no way to mend her hand. She could shout, but at this time no one would hear her. The enclosed walls of the cave almost seem to mock her and close in, threatening to swallow her up.

Fresh tears spilled down her face as she cried and only when she was exhausted from crying she fell into an uneasy sleep.

 

[slashingwinds]

Name: Trace Horizon
Alias: Lungul Gatului
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Allegiance: Anti-Mage (Very Aggressive)
Height: 1.74m
Appearance: Medium~long hair, although the right side is completely shaved off. Black with red highlights. Black eyes. Average build, other than slightly short legs. Generally wears civilian wear, even on missions, usually loose fitting for cold climates and average for warmer temperatures. Always has holsters wrapped around her thighs, usually hidden, hiding her blade and technologist gadgets.

Personality: Calm, Analytical, Violent, Risk Taker, Obsessive, Grudge Holding, Controlling, Manipulative

Strengths: Analytical, Quick Thinker, Agile. High knowledge of the body, history and current events. Calm, even during intense battles or looking death in the face. Master tactician, skillful manipulator, good improviser. Good knowledge of common technologist gadgets.
Weaknesses: Generally refuses to co-operate, obsessive over using her knife for the kill, no sense of self preservation. Overly confident, bad actor. Cannot use magic, even as a mageborn.

Backstory: Once upon a time, there was a man named Vant.
Born inside the walls of Argentum Caleo, and raised in a small orphanage, designed to raise children into part of the army, particularly into knights and mages.

However, within 2 years of reaching his adulthood, he was kicked out, for not respecting 'Jamians' ways. The ways of his ancestor. Nobody knew that of course, not even him. If they did know, he would have taken the throne, filling in for the role at people's ceremonies and events, instead of the standard, empty royal chair.

However, once he was seen as 'worthless', and with nobody to take him in, he was cast out of the keep to fend for himself. It wasn't a common occurrence, but it was required to keep everything self sustained and functioning.

Left with his wits, one set of clothing and a weeks worth of food, nobody though he would survive, with his childish, innocent and fun loving attitude.

However, he quickly made friends in the first town he visited, and after a few weeks of him remaining there, he set off, once again.

Soon, he had made a name for himself as a charming wanderer, to the point where he travelled with a group, instead of by himself. A group of three others; Alice, an orphan like himself, who he had picked up from her village, still burning down from an terrorist attack. James, the writer, who joined him for inspiration on his final novel in his seven part series. And finally, Trace an apprentice mage who had yet to successfully cast a spell, even at the age of twenty two.

However, eventually their deeds reached the ears of the knights captain. Soon, he began to fear Vant would inspire others to leave Argentum Caleo, and destroy their idea of unity. The very unity that had kept them safe for years upon end.

So, he went to the Mage Council, for the kingdoms first request in the councils lifetime.

To put a bounty on his head, and pose Vant Ardent as a criminal.

Within two months, his happy adventures had become a manhunt, with many looking for the bounty that would set them up for a lifetime. Depression quickly set in, and Vant came to the decision of hiding away into the corner of the country, rotting alone in some small cottage.

Although regretfully, the group of three decided to respect his wishes. They spent their last night partying, discussing what they would do from that point onwards.

Although Trace wasn't having none of that.

You see, Trace had been in love with Vant for a very, very long time, but when she watched him treat Alice, a small child, more affectionately than her, something inside her slowly changed.
And on this night, she decided it was time to make a change.

Brandishing one of the artifacts they had discovered from their travels, she stabbed Vant. The dagger, enchanted by demons, could hold the soul of one single victim in its gem.

Vant, his body and soul split apart, lay in his makeshift hammock, motionless. Still alive, but empty.

Using the same dagger, she went on to the other two. She couldn't let anyone get in the way of her plans, after all. Alice was dead before she could even let our any sort of whisper of pain. Slitting her throat was... satisfying, to say the least. The girls natural affinity for necromancy had made Trace jealous, to say the least.

He moved on to James. Stabbing him 'lightly' in his leg, he forced him awake, making him jolt, and instantly jump back towards the back of the tent.

"Tell the magic council to fear me.
I will come for my revenge. For hurting him. Pushing him away from me. They will regret the day they had been born."

For four years now, Trace hasn't been seen. Some say she's just a myth, some say she died on her own, mainly due to losing her sanity. But most still think she's out there, plotting her revenge.

Waiting for the day her blade slices the councils throats.

 

[The Doge]

Name: Eric Sunders
Age: 23
Affiliation: Mageborn
Sexuality: Straight

Appearance: He stands at around 5'11"(180 cm), an average frame with a lean build, anthracite irises, slightly tanned skin, and short, messy light brown hair held up by his black goggles - the glasses of which are colored orange. His face has a slight charm to it, one would consider calling him handsome, even.

He wears a black jacket adorned with multiple orange gas patterns, the patterns moving downwards alongside the sleeves, meeting at both fronts of the jacket, and entwining upwards at the back of it - meeting at the top of the hood. Under the jacket is a simple dirty gray t shirt, along with it is a pair of dirty dark gray pants matched with dark orange shoes - seemingly dirty as well.

Magic: Smokes and Embers
The user has the ability to momentarily turn their body into smoke, enhancing their mobility and preventing them from being damaged by physical attacks. The user's appearance turns into a black, swirling cloud with orange embers flowing along with the smoke. The embers have a slight heat to them, eventually singeing anyone it touches when they stay in contact with them.

The user can emit smoke and embers from their body. Under immense emotions, the user may not be able to stop the smoke and embers from flowing out.

The user can transform parts of their body into smoke and embers, instead of fully turning into smoke form. They also have the ability to retain their physical form, whilst changing the physical properties of their body into smoke - i.e. hitting them would only result into the hit passing through their body.

Along with this, the user can turn normal objects more dangerous by enhancing said object with their power, an example of this would be an enhanced pebble being thrown at a wall, causing a large crack to appear.

It takes one full second to turn into smoke, and another one second before the user can turn into smoke again. The smoke form duration is twelve seconds.

Personality: Casual, do my own thing kind of person. He's never liked to be ordered around unless he knows he should follow. Stubborn, cheeky and very much in it for himself. He doesn't seem to care about others - unless he's grown attached to them, otherwise he wouldn't bat an eyelash if they were being hurt. An exception to this would be children, often times giving them food and water.

He's easily awed by magic and technology, though not one to be distracted by them in the middle of a fight. He expresses his feelings a bit openly, but not quite trustful of everyone around him.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
+: Able to avoid damage in smoke form.
+: Can enhance anything he can get his hands on.
+: Very agile.
+: Knows how to fist fight.
-: Takes two whole seconds before being able to go into smoke form again.
-: Tires out in a long fight if he frequently uses his abilities.
-: Doesn't have much in the offensive side unless he has items with him.

Backstory:
Eric's mother was a brilliant mage as well as an amazing circus performer. She was capable of feats that dazzled the eyes of both Mageborn and Technologist alike, merging her gracious dancing skills, her beautiful voice and her powerful, yet colorful magic into one - it earned her immense popularity and she was eventually known as the 'Star Gazer', the title coming from her dust like powers.

Many asked for her hand in marriage, many were rejected. For, at the time, the Star Gazer was already meeting someone, Eric's father. He was a common man, yet she found him much more charming than the rest of the men that offered her jewels and promises of a luxurious life - Eric's father promised nothing but a happy, simple life.

They eventually got married and had a child, Eric. For the first few years, they lived quite happily - until a wealthy man came across the Star Gazer. He had asked her to leave her husband in secret, to which the woman answered with a simple no. The wealthy man continued pestering her while her husband was out working. Eric's mother told her husband about it - and when he told her he'd stay with her when the man arrived, she retorted that his job should be prioritized first, as she could just call the neighbors for help if the man tried something.

The wealthy man, patience low, grew angry that he couldn't get what he wanted - he had bribed her with every riches the world had to offer, an exaggeration, of course. - and in an act of malice, tried to force himself onto her. Eric, whom was still three years old, was in his room - crying.

His mother and the man fought in Eric's home, and somehow - despite his mother possessing magic - she had received a stab to the chest, the wealthy man's maniacal laugh heard only by the neighbors rushing in to help.

Eric's father was never the same after that incident. Always, he would sit in a rocking chair and stare at the fire inside the fireplace, not speaking a word nor making a sound. He only ate when someone was making him eat - with the spoon in front of his mouth and prodding his lips to open. Even then, his expression remained transfixed with an empty stare of grief.

It became apparent that he couldn't raise Eric, so his neighbors decided to ask for help from the healers - whom all told them the same thing: it was no use. Eventually, they all agreed to put him in a home for the elderly and the mentally ill. Eric, at the age of three, was sent to an orphanage.

The boy grew up as a troublemaker, a mischievous little prankster who wasn't adopted by anyone in a span of seven years. It was understandable, the boy had a knack for taking things that wasn't his.

He was told of his father, whom was unable to provide for him - no one else decided to speak of his mother, they had thought it was too early to tell him of her death. When he asked about her, they answered that he was found with his father, his mother nowhere to be found.
By the time he turned ten, smoke began emitting from his palms.

Frustrated with what was happening in his life, the boy decided to run away - the thought that no one would ever take him nagging at the back of his mind.

He came to the building where his father was - and upon seeing his ever so rigid stature as well as his blank stare, he realized that the people at the orphanage were telling the truth - as much as he didn't believe them.

He hoped they were wrong, and continued to do so as he went to his father's room in the middle of the night - asking him questions to no avail. All of his inquiries were met with an apathetic stare.

And with the fact that he wouldn't get anything out of his own father, he left and never turned back.

Since then, Eric had lived by himself - traveling alone and only managing to get by through stolen fruits, clothes and money. It was easy to steal, his powers gave him immense mobility and a bit of camouflage - especially during the night.

Eric had taken up residence in a decent cave on top of a high hill near Defician - not much problems there, no animals, no leaks when the rain drops, barely anyone coming to take temporary shelter there either.

He had came across a merchant selling spell books and other magical goodies - an easy target. The merchant wasn't quite aware of his cart as he persuaded his customers to buy his goods. In the end, Eric managed to grab a few things.

A valuable looking spell book, a golden jeweled necklace, and the merchant's lunch.
He'd take most of his findings to Defician - a place where he could trade goods that he stole to the 'boss', Uleni Athram. He wouldn't dare steal inside the city, however.

Over the years, he repeated this - earning himself a good amount of money for himself and two kids - a pair of orphans named Elda and Elro, left out in the streets in one of the villages he was stealing from. He took them in - not wanting them to spend their life begging for food and money.

Steal, trade, and purchase goods for him and the twins. That became Eric's daily routine.

 

[Lucifer]

Name: Syrus Pinnae

Nickname: Captain of Clover Bay

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Appearance-

Height: 6’2

Weight: 90 kg

A tall man with medium cut choppy hair, as dark as ArQane’s soul. Clean-shaven, his jawline is the envy of all men and the dream of all women.Onyx eyes to stare straight into your soul, or admire himself. With a slim and fit body and a charming smile with a handsome face to match, Syrus is extremely proud of his genetics and takes great care of his appearance. His usual clothing consists of a dark cape with a blue coat. He dons a Pirate hat whenever possible and wears grey pants and black boots.


Personality: Extremely arrogant, the only thing he loves more than himself is his ship, Clover Bay. He has a passionate love for the sea and a dream to rule all of it, even if he is just a regular sailor for the Mages. He has a rather spontaneous attitude and is quick on his feet. Loves dramatic entrances and exits and always adds some flair to his person. He has a soft spot for children and wants to inspire them to become sailors.


Strengths: He has had his ship promised to him since the age of 9. He has infused it with his own magic and his bond with it has been growing stronger with each minute they spend together. Has the power to control anything on the ship, ropes, sails and cannons. His ship is able to sink and float at will and if damaged, can recover, although it takes a while and he has to be within a 500 meter radius of it. He is able to breathe underwater and swim quite well. Good at water combat. He is also dashingly charming and has the ability to talk his way out of a situation.

Weaknesses: He is unable to fight hand to hand combat on land and is physically weak. Has a strong dislike towards hot and humid places, such as the desert. If any part of his ship is damaged, he will feel it and will stop whatever he is doing momentarily. He is very dramatic and sensitive so insulting him will affect his ability to think (WORDS HURT). Being too prideful can also lead him to battles that are almost impossible to win and infuriate the people around him.


Affiliation: Mage


Backstory: Syrus was what most would call ‘The Black Sheep’ of the family. Everyone in his family was able to fly, taught from the young age of 6. It was common knowledge, passed down for generations.


He was meant to fly.


It was a simple task, from Angelus Regis, he would fly down to the ground and pick up some of the crop soil as proof. It was the perfect time of the year, the city had just stayed a little ways away from a fertile and active field of crops, just above the river. All of his siblings had went and he was the last one. Puffing out his chest his pride and taking a running start, he jumped off the edge of the city and did exactly as he was trained to do. He focused his magic on the air around him, thrusting the force of his being upwards to combat the pull of gravity. He slowly glided downwards, but he did not stop or move. A constant move downwards? This wasn’t correct. Snapping his eyes open, he looked downwards, however, he wasn’t anywhere near the target location.

Instead, he was heading straight towards the river. Panicking, he flailed his arms around frantically, to try and lift himself higher, but the gravity was stronger. It was only a few meters away from the rushing water below. He let go of all the forces around him and screamed as he fell towards the body of water. It wasn’t over though, he gathered his courage and made a streamline with his body, bracing himself for impact. He dived perfectly into the steady current below.

All was still. The cold rush around him stopped and the feeling of water in his lungs never came. Instead, he felt calm and serene. The water didn’t suffocate him, just enveloped him in a welcoming hug, comforting him for his failure to fly. At this very moment, he felt a mixture of emotions hit him. Excitement, content and joy.He moved his arms upwards and pushed himself to break to the surface of the water. This was where he belonged. This is what he wanted to be a part of.

 

[TheGreenerGrey]

Name: Michael Luprov

Age/Gender: 32 year old male

Appearance and Personality: Michael is a tall, wirey man with straight blond hair that goes down to his neck in an unorganised mess and a small amount of stubble generated from not shaving constantly. He is normally dressed in a relaxed manner, dressed in a dark blue shirt and brown trousers. He seems to have a constant smile on his face and is never seen without his guitar in hand, playing a tune to the myriad of people who stop on their travels to listen to him. Preferring to have company at all times, he is very cheerful and goes out of his way to make people laugh and be happy. This also means he is quite gullible, and he will fall for almost any sob story fed to him. He also completely despises blueberry's.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strength: As long as there are people in the world, Michael will always find a friend to dance with or talk to or sing along with as he travels the roads.
Strength: His guitar, while having a myriad of functions related to dancing, singing and music, can also double as a weapon. Michael's guitar is capable of operating at frequency's capable of damaging those that he is defending himself from, causing cuts and slashes at low levels, internal damage at medium and at its highest level can knock back and disorientate (see: Stun) anyone caught in a conical soundwave. Michael is unable to move for the 1.5 seconds it takes to charge. (He can use this ONCE before needing to recharge his guitar.)
Strength/Weakness: Michaels guitar is VERY heavy.
Weakness: His guitar, being a machine, runs on power to operate all but the most basic functions. If he runs out of power, it will revert to being a simple guitar.
Weakness: Due to Michael's ever moving and changing lifestyle, he is quite impatient and generally has a small attention span. This can lead to trouble when someone is trying to have a serious conversation with him.
Weakness: Compared to the more physically focused characters out there, Michael isn't very strong, with just enough strength to carry and play his guitar for days on end.
Weakness: While his guitars sound waves specialise in crowd control, he can only send them in a cone in the direction his guitar is facing, so he can't afford to be surrounded.
Weakness: Michael is, at his core, a social creature and without someone to talk or sing to for extended periods of time he can quickly become depressed. Well, until he finds another soul to spend time with that is.
Affiliated Faction: Loosely Tech. Traveling, independent character

Backstory: Michael has lived a pretty idyllic life, with little to no tragedy. Born in a small tech village, Michael lived with his parents and three older brothers, largely untroubled to the politics of the world. This changed when the war began. At the age of 10, Michael was forced to say goodbye to his father and brothers, who all went off to the war front, leaving him with his mother. For a while after that, Michael simply existed, not going out to play and staying inside his room for days on end. It was during that time that his mother gave him his father's old guitar, in the hopes of cheering him up. This was an unprecedented success, as Michael found his innate love and talent for music, and began to play. Years later, his village was famed for his voice and Michael was the star of the town, everything was going well for him. Everyone loved him, the town was prosperous, he even had an inn named after him. That was when he received the news of his father's death. Saddened by this sudden loss, Michael couldn't bear to look at his grieving mother, feeling irrationally guilty for having lived such a life in the village while his brothers fought for their country. Resolving himself, Michael packed up his (now upgraded) guitar and little else, and set off to leave the village under the pretence of seeing the world. He has wandered ever since.

Relationships:
Imogen: Imogen is a childhood friend/mentor to Michael, and often played the part of a Big sister to him during their childhood. She left to fight the war around the same time his brothers did.

 

[Blarpy whatsit]

General information
Name: Tori Perone
Nicknames: Marshmallow
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Mageborn
Occupation: Student
Handedness: Right

Appearance
Height: 156cm / 5f 1.5in
Weight: 58kg / 127lbs
Description: Tori is short and on the chubbier side of the spectrum. She has soft, pale skin to pair with a fluffy mess of wavy blue hair that reaches the back of her neck and swoops comfortably over her forehead. Her ears are usually hidden under the light blue floof which frames her round face, and her little nose compliments her large, dark brown eyes. Tori prefers to wear darker, earthy colored clothing, and off-the-shoulder shirts, and when given the option, would rather not wear shoes. (Refer to the doodles I doodled below for clothing ideas and appearance)
(Edit: I don't know how to add images rip ;-; )

**Personality**
Tori is a soft and kindhearted person, but can sometimes be difficult to approach due to her jumpy nature when meeting new people. However, her bright and bubbly personality is quick to emerge once she opens up to them. She has a thirst for knowledge and a genuine passion to learn new things, although she admits that overcoming her supposed social awkwardness is not something that she's ready to face yet. She has a bad habit of being intimidated by strangers and crowds, and will certainly not hesitate to hide in her house all day if she feels like it. Tori tries to make it a habit to remind her loved ones how special they are to her because she believes that everyone deserves love and happiness and warmth and nice things like that. However, whenever problems occur because of her, she may go to extreme measures to apologize for her blatant absent mindedness. Tori is generally meticulous when it comes to completing tasks, and likes to make sure nothing is out of order, so she'll grasp any chance to fix a mistake if she happens to spot one. (While rping on non canon ics, Tori is often portrayed as someone who gets lost easily, and often doesn't know what's going on until later, but we'll see how clueless she is in the official rp) On a side note, she won't admit it, but she can't sleep without her giraffe pillow. Don't ask.

Strengths and weaknesses

+ She can cast basic barriers anywhere as long as she can see the area clearly. Types of barriers include bubbles around wounded allies, and walls to protect a certain area, and depending how she casts the spell, she can either make a barrier which supports itself but will wear away on its own while she does other things, or she can focus her energy and attention on keeping the barrier up for longer periods of time and/or move and/or extend it to a certain amount.

+ Her barriers can catch projectiles like flies in a spider's web, but they'll fall to the ground once the barrier fades away. When the outer surface of said barrier comes in contact with a projectile, it softens for a fraction of a second and immediately stiffens once the object has partially passed through the softened area, thus once the barrier returns to its original state, the projectile is suspended in it.

+ She can heal people. Healable wounds range from pinpricks to large gashes, however, when healing a patient, it is important to note factors such as blood loss and how long the wound has been left untreated.

+ Tori has a basic understanding of protection charms, which are simple spells cast onto trinkets that will keep people safe depending on who is in possession of said charm. She can make as many as she needs and hand them out to her buddies before things get serious :3

- Tori is not able to cast more than one barrier at a time, nor can she maintain her attention on multiple barriers at once. Since she has to manually keep the barrier from breaking, it would take her too much effort to keep more than one barrier stable, thus if she casts several barriers one after the other, she can only prevent one from fading away, while the others will weaken.


- When she is healing allies, she has to remain still and pin all her focus on fixing the injury, otherwise it might heal incorrectly (sort of like picking at a scar or reopening a wound) and cause more problems in the future. This leaves her as a vulnerable target to enemies, especially when the wound that she's healing is serious and needs more time and energy to repair.

- Can only heal one person/wound at a time (this again is because she needs to focus all her attention on healing it or else it will take longer and may heal incorrectly).

- She can't replace organs or limbs, but will do her best to repair internal bruising, prevent blood loss, and patch exposed areas.

- She has pretty terrible eyesight but has no clue that she needs glasses.

- She can't heal herself (channeling her own magic out and back onto herself doesn't quite seem to work) and can only use protection charms or barrier spells on to protect herself from harm, otherwise she heals as slowly as any other person.

- She lacks knowledge on close combat, and she isn't particularly strong or fast and therefore can only defend herself using barriers and charms during sticky situations.

*Healing is her forte, and she can speed up wound recovery relatively quickly. However, the patient must still treat it like any other freshly healed wound, otherwise it might reopen and cause problems, therefore it is their responsibility take care of themselves.


Backstory
Work in progress
;-; I'm sorry I know I take years to write but oh well

 

[The_Slayer]

Name: Kenji Stevens (Slayer)

Age: 17

Height: 6"2'

Weight: 69kg

Appearance: Kenji is a tall male with pale skin. He has Irish and Japanese blood as well as being fluent in English and Japanese. He is normally seen wearing jeans and a long t-shirt, he has brown hiking shoes and carries a black backpack with food, water, a radio, tissues, medication and custom headphones. In his pants pocket he caries his phone and a rechargeable battery pack, his amazing playlist downloaded on his phone for whenever it's necessary. In his other pocket he carries money and sports earbuds. He wears a black flat cap over his makeshift mask and has a light jacket tied around his waist.

Powers and Abilities: Kenji isn't anything special, he normally resorts to good old punch and shove. Though he is extremely versatile with every kind of weapon and knows how to get into people's heads, literally. Kenji has the hidden ability to learn one's fighting style simply by looking into their eyes. It's a rare trait though it lets him not only adapt but counter and use the skills of his opponents. He calls it Weedling for no apparent reason. There is a downside to having this ability though, he also feels the suffering of whoever he Weedles and this can cause him to become extremely emotional. Listening to his playlist helps Kenji suppress these emotions.

Personality: Kenji loves being included in stuff and hates being on the outer. At first he can seem like a bit of a prick but once you get to know him he becomes really friendly and will do anything to ensure your safety. He is extremely passionate about his music and if you diss it he will hurt you badly.

Strengths and Weaknesses: Kenji is a strong fighter and strategist though he suffers greatly when it comes to personal dilemmas.

Affiliation: Kenji is not currently affiliated with either side of the war, though he has magical powers he relies on technology to keep him sane.

Backstory: Kenji was two years of age when he reached the town of Saft. His parents were traders brining technology to the people of the south though their cargo transporter hit a land mine near a village on the outskirts of the Valeria desert. Kenji was the only survivor. He was taken in and raised by the people of Saft. Though he was an orphan people still gave him food and shelter. He strived to become a great fighter practicing every day against the surrounding cacti. On his seventeenth birthday the village was raided by bandits, he tried to defend but was unable to stop Saft being razed. The bandits stole money from the remains of Saft and left Kenji and a few other villagers behind to rebuild the town. After a month they have built a shed and some trading stalls, Kenji strives to find the bandits that razed his town and kill them.

 

[EvrinKai]

Name : Andlát Einarsson Jónsdóttir
NickNames : Andy, Doc
Gender : Male
Age : 32
Sexuality : Gay
Affiliated Groups : Technologist (Passive)
Height : 5'8" (1.7 m)
Appearance : Scruffy black hair and facial hair. Piercings on the right eyebrow and ear, gray eyes. A compact build and musculature. Typically wears muted, darker colors outside of working duties, preferably loose-fit. During work and in combat, he wears his uniform and armor, along with medical gear. A prosthetic for his left arm that extends past the elbow, which he built himself. Consists of strong, dark material. Personality : A thoughtful and observant individual. Attentive to minor details and his surroundings at all times. Hates vanity or extra information, and prefers efficient, more pragmatic means to solve problems. His brevity and gruffness in his speech can be mistaken as uncouth or meaning ill will, although it is usually the opposite. He is fiercely protective of his companions, the "dad friend" of the bunch. A keen awareness for the distress of others, adjusting his ways as to placate them as much as possible. A fondness for coffee, puns, and interesting books, often reading on physiology during his free time.
History : Andy was born, alongside his twin, into a proud family line of mage warriors. The House of Inconel was known for their fierce and brutal ways of battle, carving their way through the enemy with their magical skill and merciless tactics. Since he had been born first out of the two, he was expected to fill in the role as Head of the Family, surpassing his mother, Lind Jónsdóttir. Andy, however, had different plans. He saw the family as needlessly bloodthirsty and cruel - their practices crude and extreme. He hoped to pursue the medical field instead, using his magic to assist and heal others, rather than use them for combat. This caused not only distress within the family, but a strain on his relationship with his sibling, who accused him of being too soft. The final tipping point was when he blatantly refused to continue with his apprenticeship. Enraged, his mother disowned him. She sent his own twin against him to wipe him out, who was more than eager to the task. He managed to escape the attempt on his life, losing an arm and his magic in the process. With nothing to his name, he fled to the other side of the country - the west. There, he pursued his ambitions, attending medical school, excelling in his studies. However, he did not want to work in an office. Instead, he enlisted in the army as a combat medic, in order to help the wounded on the front lines. He created a name for himself there, saving countless lives, and continues to serve diligently.
Strengths : A highly skilled medic. Equipped with a service pistol for self-defense, trained for close-combat encounters. Widespread knowledge on multiple languages. Strong defensive. A mean left hook.
Weaknesses : Focuses less on offense. Empathetic and protective over his allies to the point of taking damage for them. Impaired without prosthetic.

 

[TrashierThanThou]

Name
Isolde Visalius

Age/Gender/Sexuality
25/Male/Gay

Appearance
Isolde has light turquoise hair combed towards one side and distinctly pointed features on a sharp, angled face overlooked by a pair of piercingly pale blue eyes that always seem to be stormy underneath the surface. He has the traditionally pointed ears characteristic of his bloodline and his left ear bears a ruby earring indicating his heritage as member of House Visalius. Everything about Isolde can be described as "pale"- from the hue of his skin that has never seen sun or the way he seems to fade into the background unless you look hard enough. He seems to exist in a state of translucency where he might disappear without a trace. Yet despite this, Isolde is far from soft. In his paleness there is an angled hardness about the way his jaw is set and the thin press of his lips that suggests a ruggedness beneath a facade.

Isolde stands at 5"10 and 57 kg, a slight figure that moves with light, quiet steps like a wraith, giving the distinct impression that he is floating at times. He carries himself with quiet, beaten down dignity, always sitting straight and squared. Even in the worst of situations he never loses the regality that he maintains. Generally his demeanour is described as "unobtrusive"- demure in a way that doesn't attract attention such that he is never in the way. However, Isolde holds himself with a quiet regality that doesn't move in the worst of situations, dignified even in defeat, always walking with his shoulders squared and his head held high, his carriage straight and unyielding.

Personality
Isolde is unreadable to strangers, polite to acquaintances, charming in persuasion yet awkward with those he holds dearest. He is eloquent when he chooses to be, although mostly he chooses to remain silent. However, beneath the benevolent mask is a barren silence of apathy towards life, border lining towards a complete lack of will to live, a defence mechanism born from the years of emotional neglect from his parents and verbal abuse from his siblings. He is cautious even with the people he know, remaining distant despite his yearning for emotional connection, and is afraid of forming close bonds with people for fears that they will one day abandon him as everyone has.

The fear of abandonment leads him to work overly hard on whatever he's tasked to do, an insecurity that grows with his talents, an insatiable sinkhole that consumes what satisfaction he has of what he already possesses in knowledge. He constantly reminds himself that he is inferior to others and self-hatred works as a driving factor for betterment, not for self fulfilment but a desperate attempt for him to find peace with himself for not being good enough. Isolde holds a world of self-contempt, choosing to see his shortcomings and failures instead of his achievements, leading to the ultimate conclusion that he's worthless. These thoughts permeate his mind constantly and on the worst of days, he believes that ultimately nothing he does matters. However, while he feels nothing towards his own life he's almost fearful that he gets in the way of other people. He's completely broken himself, yet he's still trying his best for everyone else.

Strengths and Weaknesses
+ Isolde has a vast knowledge on an immense variety of subjects, due to his almost obsessive search for more knowledge. His knowledge of obscure spells, curses and artefacts gives him an edge in battle and in times of emergency.

+ He's usually calm and collected, able to hold a conversation, and is able to remain level-headed in stressful situations given that it does not take him by surprise.

+ - Isolde is an empath, which gives him the ability to read other people's emotions through their behaviour. He uses this to his advantage, and is skilled in the art of negotiation. However, being an empath leaves him vulnerable to strong outbursts of emotions from others which may overwhelm him.

- He is, however, prone to emotional instability and has moments where he becomes extremely vulnerable to attacks, both physically or mentally.

- + He is generally distrustful of people, but will completely devote himself to someone he's allowed himself to grow close to. This makes him extremely loyal to his allies, but he can become a liability and is susceptible to manipulation if ever his trust is gained.

Affiliated Faction
Mage

Backstory
-soon-

 

[galacticspaceray]

Name:
Percival Crystallance
Perce, Percy

Age/Gender:
27/Male

Sexuality:
Biromantic asexual

Relationship:
Still trying to develop his relationship with Gaia.

Appearance:
Percy is very tall, standing at around six feet and five inches. He's very lean and wiry, with his habit of not eating much, then running around. He's much stronger than he looks, which tends to surprise many. He thinks that cutting and shaving is a waste of time, which leads to him not cutting his long and shaggy hair or keeping his beard in check for many months at a time. However, he can't seem to grow a beard past his chin. He also has bright green swirls that mark the right side of his body and glow when he casts magic. The intesity of the glow varies, depending on how strong the spells are. His eyes are bright, piercing green. They're hard and barely expressive after years of training himself to mask his emotions. They accompany his already pale complexion and harsh features. Percy likes to wear graphic shirts and skinny jeans (he's still stuck in his teen fashion phase, sadly) when casual, but will switch to whatever is appropriate for the occasion. He also likes to keep his long hair up in either a ponytail or a man bun. He usually only keeps his hair down if he's trying to disguise himself around any Technologists.
Face claim: Hozier.

Personality:
Some would describe Percival as the strong, silent type. He doesn't speak much, for fear of blurting out something he shouldn't, even though he expertly masks that anxiety with a stoic expression. He acts stubborn and grumpy and prefers to not socialize and stay in the forest, talking to trees rather than people. He likes to act like he can't be bothered with people, but he just does that for fear of being hurt. However, he doesn't try to act like a scumbag. That said, if he ever manages to let someone be his friend, he will remain loyal to them until they either hurt him or the day he dies. Either/or, really. One of his best traits is his loyalty.
Strengths: Working with plants and nature magic, weaponising plants to his advantage in a fight, agility.
Weaknesses: Working with fire, anything that involves lifting weights, being emotionally stable.

Affiliated:
Faction Mageborn

Backstory:
Believe it or not, Percival used to be a normal person. Well, until he was around fourteen. Around that time, there was a Technologist raid on the town he used to live in, and he was one of the few survivors. The same cannot be said for everyone he knew. Overwhelmed with grief and trauma, Percival fled to the forest for refuge, as his parents were both mages of nature. He spent years in it, learning the ways of how the forest moved, how it breathed, and how it lived. Years later, Percival, now an adult, moved to Angelus Regis, and living with the mentality that if he didn't make friends, he wouldn't get hurt. He now owns a flower shop and an apothecary.

 

[Magellica]

still pretty wip but its something


Name
Imogen Sereta

Age/Gender
35/Female

Appearance
Imogen is a relatively short woman with shoulder length black hair, which is usually in quite a mess. She wears a black, tight fitting tank top beneath both a green, camouflage-like jacket and a plain green cape, which is somewhat heavy but can block the weakest types of projectiles. However, it is only long enough so that the end of it is down by her shins. She also has trousers, around the same colour as her jacket, which is kept up by a belt of sorts which contains the likes of extra bullets.

She uses a sniper rifle as a weapon. It fires slowly and at an inefficient rate, but is strong and can pierce most barriers and shields.

Personality
Imogen is a radical technologists who hates mages. She can, for the most part, control it in front of other people but it's not really something to count on. She is quite clingy to people she is close with, and get possessive. She is decent at socializing, though finds it preferable to stay away from the tediousness of it altogether.

Strengths and Weaknesses
+Pinpoint aim
+Deadly from a long distance
+Somewhat agile
-Bad close ranged fighter
-Injured right leg

Affiliated Faction
Technologist

Backstory
WIP

 

[Nyoom]

Name: Alexander L. Mulligan

Nickname: Xander, Alex

Gender: Male

Age: 19

Hair: Short, wavy at the ends. Often rumpled or blackened by smoke

Eyes: Electric blue, usually covered by goggles

Appearance: Rough at the edges- Alright, completely rough. Alex looks as though he had just survived an explosion, which he probably has in one way or another. His clothes are often dirty with oil and frayed with burn marks from electricity, uncombed hair standing on end. Scars dot his arms, little nicks and deeper scratches that stand out as white specks against his sun kissed skin.

He marches forward with the confident, unperturbed air of someone who enjoys life the way it is. His actions are almost dreamy, unrehearsed. Movements for the sake of moving, as if showing the whole world how at ease he was in the flow of time. Arms hanging easily at his sides, he could walk past mocking, hateful eyes with a smile and a cheery wave. A general rascal, he hides everything under a good natured smile.


Alex has a 'tool belt', and for the unassuming nature of the words his definition of a tool belt is much more ridiculous. Different tools are strapped to his jacket with small tags dangling from them labeled in neat handwriting their name. Yes, Alex names his tools. Who doesn't? He handles them with as much care as one will handle a robin's egg, often cradling them in his hands to admire the shine. As scruffy as his appearance might be, his tools are always polished.
A pair of oversized goggles are strapped tightly around his head, the lenses a shade of strawberry pink. 'Staring at the world from rose coloured lenses', as he would joke.

Behind them, it hides his blue eyes, burning with passion and emotion. His eyes are electric blue, sparks of mad genius and ideas dancing in their depths like sparks of fire. His eyes have a weatherbeaten quality, whether it's because of the dark rings surrounding them from his all nighters or for the air of sadness in them that always seems to betray his easygoing posture. They are eyes with secrets to hide, but filled to the brim with enough rage to burn cities down and enough determination to go far in life.

Personality: Alexander's eyes burn with undiluted passion and determination, his very stance shows strength and confidence, alongside a relaxed nature that makes him hard to resist. He has a habit of calling anyone Friend, and while that might be annoying you will never get an awkward silence with him around, making sarcastic quips and stroking the flame of conversation easily.

Alex loves many things, but little rival the affection he has for technology. Creating machines brings a maniacal fire in his eye that makes him look like a child, seeing a wide horizon of chances before him, new advancements to be made, new things to discover. He often proclaims that the future is happening right there, they just had to reach out for the spark and move forward with it. Spending sleepless nights building his machines, nearly all his projects and made for his passion. He will get into bed thinking hard about the blue prints for his next work, and jump out of it in the middle of the night shouting "Eureka!" And disappear into his lab for days on end working on it. Of course, not all his projects go the way he wants them to. There are many times where he messes up, but he treats his mistakes with a shrug and laughs about his failures, claiming that they are the building blocks to success while gracefully ignoring all consequences for his actions.

A mediator of arguments, Alexander is used to being in the fray of conflict. As the middle child, resolving fights between his siblings has become a practiced norm, allowing him to see the bigger picture whenever he finds himself focusing on his own opinions. Yet, despite all that, Alexander is easily overwhelmed by emotion. He is angry, his anger hides behind rose tinted panes and bright blue eyes, dark and waiting for a chance to strike out. Behind his facade, Alex hides a much greater pain that he chooses to forget, yet unable to help the fact that it resurfaces at the worst of times.

Affiliated Faction: Technologist

Strengths/Abilities:

+ Mechanics: Alex will gladly boast that his magic is which machines. He loved to build them since he was a child, building from scraps he collected. He can make machines out of anything, including building a singing metal bird out of a music box when he was six to give to a Friend. He can fix any gadget you give him, and is incredibly gifted with technology.
+ Improvisation: Alex can build things in the middle of a fight, fixing his machines while adding new advancements as he sees fit. It is why he always brings his tools around with him. Alex is witty and has a sharp mind, always able to take unexpected things head on. He adapts easily to any machine you put into his hands, easily figuring the workings out on his own. As a result, he is a wild card during fights, completely unpredictable and incredibly strong.
+ DETERMINATION: His determination far exceeds any obstacles in his path. If he sets his mind in doing something, no matter what pain he has to go through, no matter how much it hurts, even if every bone in his body was broken he will always stand up and keep striving.

Weaknesses:
- Plans: Plans? What are those? Who needs plans? Alex dislikes logic, he relies on intuition and believes that the world runs on it. The best technologist isn't one that proves things via algorithms, it is one that discovers new energy sources or machines that can do more things and help more people. Rather than making a plan, he would rather jump off cliffs and build his wings on the day down.
- Forgiving: It is the reason why he can never truly pick a side. While Alex claims to be on the side of the technologists, part of him doesn't understand the point of war. He is angry at the mages, sure, but death cannot be resolved by spilling more blood. He easily grants mercy on others, and never shoots to kill. If someone claims to have learnt their lesson, Alex will gladly call them a Friend once again. It is a philosophy he sticks to, to give others a second chance, and while that doesn't benefit him in any way it does well to lessen his guilt about the people he has to kill.

Backstory:
Alex was born to a family of technologists, alongside his four siblings. His household was large, and as the middle child Alex naturally started being the more responsible one, mitigating arguments and taking most of their pranks in stride. They were a close knit family, and Alex loved them all to bits. The one thing he didn't appreciate as much was his hair. He took after his Father, the only redhead amongst his siblings, and the root of all teasing. His brothers will touch his hair and jerk their hands back like they've been burned, laughing and joking that his hair was as bright as fire. Alexander wanted hair like theirs, pale blonde turning golden in the light.

That changed when he met a boy in a mansion in the woods, who told him his hair was pretty. He loved red from then on. Grew his hair out, wore red things. Because that person said they loved it, the color of blooming roses in the dark, fragrant and beautiful in their enigma. His siblings teased him for it, but he could care less. It was what that person liked, and so he loved it as well. He was eleven.

The last time he snuck away was on his birthday, where his family was preparing streamers and cake and all Alex wanted was to bring a piece to share with his friend. So he crept away in the aftermath, with his Mother busy stuffing cake into the mouths of his siblings, calling for his Father to help stop them from quarrelling. Alexander slipped away, unnoticed. Not knowing that it was the last time he saw them.

In retrospect, it was a funeral for childhood. Alexander went to visit his Friend as usual, not knowing that it would be the last time they met as well. They laughed, talked, that person wished him a happy birthday by showing him Mage fire. Orange, red, flickering flames that swallowed everything they touched into ashes. Alexander was intrigued, asking him to demonstrate again and again, laughing delightedly like it was a parlour trick. He would remember the flames for years to come, whether he liked it or not.

Fate played a cruel trick on him that day, for when he returned the house was in flames. Nothing was left, nothing. He screamed and cried, clawed futilely at the door as flames licked his shoes, but he could care less. All he could see was red, red, red. And oh god, the screams. He could hear the crying of his younger siblings, the door was stuck tight and he couldn't get in. Alexander hammered the door, threw himself at it until his voice grew hoarse from the smoke. Until the cries inside died down to a whimper of one accepting their fate. He could almost visualise his family huddled together, calming each other as they accepted their deaths. But without him. He was still barred from the outside, the only one who wasn't there.

A sea of flames swallowed the house and its inhabitants, reducing them to grey ash. In his panic he nearly felt a sense of incredulous hope. Maybe it was an illusion, a birthday surprise to scare him even though they had never played pranks as realistic as this one before, even though the flames that were steadily burning was nothing like the holographic projections that flew across the nursery of his home.

From that day on, Alexander decided that red was a disgusting Colour.

His googles were the last thing left of his family, given to him by his Father on his ninth birthday. For him to "grow into them" as he wished. To this day Alex still quietly traces the frame with his thumb, his name clumsily carved into the top of the silver frames. His Father, while having a delicate touch with machinery, was never any good at carving. He knows every scratch and dent in them from when his siblings roughhoused, and if he thought hard enough he could see them in the rose colored lenses, just as though they haven't left at all.

The incident was dismissed as an accident on his parents' part, claiming that they somehow set off an explosion that caused the ultimate deaths of his family. Liars, all of them. Alexander recognised the flames all too well, it was Mage fire, the very one that was shown to him by his playmate. He didn't know what his innocuous family had ever done to enrage the community in such a way that they deserved to be burned to the ground alive. Yet he couldn't do a thing but smile, show the world he couldn't care less. Alex fled the place soon after, the memories of the flames left him with burn marks on his palms and legs, and so the incident stayed with him as they healed.


Call it survivor's guilt. In Alex's own words, "The worst part wasn't the fact that they died, it's the fact that I'm still living in their place." Countless times Alex seriously considered dying himself, the pain was too much to take knowing that they would never come back. He lost himself in hatred and anger, using revenge to fuel his determination, became better at mechanics than he ever was, building guns and bazookas in a flash as Long as he had the right materials. Anger and his duty was the only reason he stayed alive, he had no mercy for the mageborns and only learned to hate them, detest their existence that caused his family to suffer. Alexander was the destroyer, a nebulous bundle of anger and nerves that will plow anyone to the ground just for being a Mage. He shaved his hair off, never allowing it to grow out again, hating the Color red.

It only changed when Alex gradually realised that he was becoming the same person he hated. The people who hated on others for reasons that they can't help themselves, one's bloodline shouldn't be a crime they are judged against. He just wished to lash out and blame someone, anyone for their deaths, and he realised that he was simply throwing a tantrum. He needed closure, and that was what he sought.

He went back to the place where he was born, where he grew up in. A wall was all it was left, but it was enough. Pressing his forehead to the stone, he remembered. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel pain for their loss, the pain that he tried to cover up with anger and vengeance. Alex cried like a child that day, as he embraced the truth and allowed himself to feel. The living was not like the dead. Their paths are Long, they have to move on whether they wished to or not. So Alex took a deep breath and did.

Smiling and joking, one would barely remember Alexander from how he was before. The pain and anger would always be a part of him, but it was a part he accepted as himself. Gradually, he became the man who he was this day, optimistic and easy going, easily forgiving. He likes to think that he was happy, yet couldn't hide his anger at times where the mages are being a little too unreasonable. On the bright side, it was just occasionally, and directed to select individuals.

 

[Stuffies12]

Name
Heffer Cobal

Age
24

Gender
Male

Appearance
A man with a thin frame, he stands at 5’10” (177cm). He has short white hair and dull blue eyes that exude a certain tiredness to them, though they are hidden behind a pair of sharp glasses. When not wearing his lab coat, he dons simple civilian clothing as any man from Montano would. It does make him stick out on the occasions that he must cross the border; the rough fabric of jeans and the soft thickness of his jacket a stark contrast to the tattered garbs many peasants along the border wear. He has a habit of shuffling instead of walking.

Personality
An intelligent and methodical character, at heart Heffer is a curious man. Like all his age, he was born in the land Avarein knowing little of his people’s origins. His curiosity towards the mages is akin to how one would observe a group of animals. ‘Why are they so different from us? How can they wield magic? Is their anatomy the same as ours?’ Such questions were at the forefront of his curiosity. Though he cares little for the politics surrounding the war between his people and the mages, he still cares for the war itself, believing the only chance for his people’s survival lies within the conquest of Avarein’s more fertile lands. He hopes by utilising the ground’s resource-rich land, they may use it to restore the home he has never knew.

Strengths and Weaknesses
+ Intelligent. After all, he is a scientist.

+ Science specialty: Biology, robotics, nanomachinery. As someone working under Sgiathach in the Biotechnology research division, it is a given these are his strong suits. His primary goal is to uncover the theories behind the use of magic and replicate its effects.​

+ Efficient. Heffer will try and create the best possible result using the least amount of effort.

+ Pragmatic. Heffer has little in the way of sentiment, discluding his half curious half longing attachment to his homeland.​

+ Studious. Heffer believes there is always something out there to be studied, giving him a slight edge over the laggards that stubbornly stick to one field of study.

- Self-centered. While not necessarily narcissistic, he has little appreciation for other people’s opinions and concerns.

- Condescending. Even to his fellow scientists in Montano. Despite respecting her superior as a scientist, he keeps an unsaid grievance toward her due to her roots growing up and her highly emotional nature.​

- Physically unfit. Seriously. He can, like, run? For a few minutes?
- Showboat. He likes to be elegant when showing off. He hates R&D’s Army division because its robots are too clunky and weapons too loud. Links with his desire to be efficient.
- Close-minded. He sees the mages as a group of savages that need to be educated, tradition and history be damned. Progress only moves in one direction: Forward.
- Politically oblivious. Do not bring this man into a political situation. He has zero tact.


Affiliated Faction
Technologist - Scientist.

Backstory
Growing up in the large sprawling city of Montano was already lucky enough, Heffer was born into its rich upper circle. His parents, previously a couple of well doers with just enough material possessions to get by, made their wealth in the new land of Avarein. For them, it was truly the land of opportunity. Lax restrictions on trade, lucrative under the table deals, and unregulated development meant it was easy for people with the right know-how to get rich. And Heffer’s parents were those people.

From an early age, Heffer had a childlike interest with the people across the border. Why were they so different than them? Why did they live in those weird dirty huts and stone buildings? When he was told of the concept of magic, it utterly baffled him. He was, as any child would be, upset when he found out he couldn’t use magic. But unlike others who saw magic as needless fluff, Heffer saw its potential to be used for his people.

He received the best education money could buy, pursuing that childhood dream of wanting to use magic. Alongside the technologists’ cornerstone subjects of robotics and sciences, he specialised in biology and the human anatomy. His life as a teenager was nothing notable to speak of. Surrounded by like-minded, similarly raised people, he saw no qualms engaging his classmates in intellectual discussions over the cafeteria table. During his tertiary education, he took every chance there was to explore the other side. The mages, the wizards, the savages. Many names, his faculty had for them. He observed them as how one would observe animals behind a glass window. Curious creatures they were. In each and every one of them laid the potential to utterly destroy their settlements, yet they lived so… so banaly. With seemingly no hunger or desire for progress. If they could educate them, inform them, bring them to the side of the technologists, the speed of progress would be infinite!

Graduation came and went. As an aspiring scientist there was only one logical place to seek progress. Axiom Industries hired a set amount of graduates every year. Most would stay at the bottom of the rung, content with their lives and keeping the cogs in the machine turning. A few, like Heffer, wanted more. Up the ranks he climbed until he found himself working under Doctor Sgiathach herself. Now with the peace talks only a month away, he urged her to give him permission to formulate a proposal for the study of the mages - the secret to their power. It was all simple in his head, really. He would entice the mages with the notions of possibility and potential, that their lives could be better than they had ever been, if they could share the secrets of magic in exchange for some technology and education. The chance to be enlightened and freed from the shackles of tradition.

Clearly, not a man suited to the political field of diplomacy.

 

[vwrynn]

Name
Caine d’Arcier

Age
27

Gender
Male

Hair
Purple

Eyes
Grey

Handedness
Right

Sexuality
Flexible

Appearance
A male of medium height who stands at 5’10, slenderly built and sinewy. At the first glance, he does not seem very imposing, but he possesses an above average amount of strength and the movements of a feline predator, graceful and quick. He has a narrow face with a pointed chin, thin lips with a slight upward curve and eyes the colour of smoke, so dark they seem to absorb light, yet with a soft gleam. His hair is deep purple and he wears it short with a sideswept fringe. It is hard to tame and always slightly unruly.
He has a small tattoo on his right ankle and wears a simple silver ring with a clear gemstone on his left pinky.

Personality:
Caine is a sociable and charming individual who mixes well with people, befriending them easily. In truth he is rather indifferent to them or their company - to him, they are more often than not merely a pastime or a means to an end. Ruthless, calculating and cunning, he is a fraud, a liar and a cheat who stops at nothing to accomplish his means, including manipulation, betrayal and killing. Life has made him a pragmatist who does whatever it needs to get by – that does not mean that he is devoid of a conscience or empathy, but most of the time he pushes these feelings away so they won’t interfere with him, only caring when he can afford to. He is driven by personal motifs rather than ideological ones which makes him quite unpredictable and whimsical.

Affiliated Faction
Mageborn but not politically or ideologically affiliated with either faction

Weapons
coming soon

Strenghts/Abilities
coming soon

Weaknesses
coming soon

Backstory
coming soon

 

[Liyrical]

Character Sheet

​

Name: Florence “Flo” Venilia
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Physical Appearance: Florence is a young women, physically fit from traveling and petite. Florence is not very tall, only 5’3 height wise and has violet eyes, a square face with high cheekbones and an elegant jaw. Her skin is of a light tan and has full lips, and a curvaceous body. Her hair is platinum blonde, long and wavy and typically let down, with a long section of her bangs swept to the side.
Clothing: Florence wears a burgundy coat with gold accents, with red tassels at the very end of it, over a dark red strapless top, and high-waisted black pants, paired with dark brown boots. The outfit is complimented by a dark red choker and a pair of leathery black belt attached to her pants.
Weapon: Strapped to the belt is a pair of persian scimitars. The sheath a clean, black gloss, and blade coloured a contrasting red. Her handle is gold in colour, made of bronze metal and wood. Strings of red tassels decorate each side.

Personality: Florence is a reserved individual, keeping her thoughts to herself and rarely truly expressing it. She outwardly showcases a image of smugness and certainty, but hides her insecurities with snark and scathing remarks. She is mentally frail due to her abusive upbringing, a home she was eventually kicked out from after she was no longer of use, and is extremely bitter and holds a heavy grudge against her birth family.

Florence copes with her problems poorly, through drinking habits that are continuously getting worse, though she does not realise so. Florence knows the world is full of grey shades and not black and white, but is in constant self-denial, as a way to keep herself sane everytime she does a job as a mercenary. She drinks heavily on certain days, and is becoming more and more reliant on alcohol as a coping mechanism, trying to numb her head from her past and issues.

Florence believes in being an individual and owing to no-one but yourself, and has large amount of pride due to her strong beliefs and morals. Contrasting this is her poor self-esteem and her cowardliness in facing her issues, which she is self-aware of, but chooses to ignore out of fear.

Florence is, in all, a hypocrite.

However, Florence, at the very core, is an idealistic person. She yearns for interpersonal relationship with others, but has difficulty forming it due to lack of experience but is genuinely kind and caring. She is a loyal person at fault, and even if betrayed she would still believe in them, a weakness, but also a strength. Florence does not get emotionally attached easily, a form of self-defence, but once her barriers are gently broken down, she loves with everything she has, all of her, till her very death.

Strengths: Florence is a powerful elemental mage, with an immense draw for water and wind, and an affinity for lightning. She is a talented swordswoman, capable of defending herself without magic through physical skill alone. One of her key skillset is her blending of her elemental arts with her dual swords. While capable of performing feats such as striking lighting on the earth-- it requires an absurd amount of mana. While her mana pool itself is incredibly large, it is not infinite. Thus, Florence manipulates her elemental abilities to a fine, controlled point-- a testament to her skill as a mage, and coats her blade, clothing and carry-ons in it. It creates a sort of barrier; for her blade, it sharpens it with wind and lighting magic, to the point where it can cut through almost anything, even some magic spells. For her clothing, it allows her to make it more durable, allowing it to become an armor of sorts, allowing her to block or deflect attacks magic, the wind shielding her from danger and water absorbing the shock of attacks, and lighting making her a walking zap machine every time someone even touches her.

Florence affinity is lighting, and can generate electricity and use it as a deadly weapon. Her magic is at the strongest during a thunderstorm, as she has all the elements within her grasp.

Weaknesses: Florence is incredibly strong physically, as a powerful mage and natural sword fighter, but this is offset but her extreme fragility mentally. This vulnerability is obvious to a keen eye. A sharp twist of words and the correct body language will most certainly make her lose all control-- or break her. Florence's biggest weakness, however, is her stepmother. The sight of her, sneer, glint in her eyes, voice-- anything-- it is her true weakness, and is the reason for her nightmares and panic attacks. All one has to do is whisper in the voice of her stepmother, and she would break, very, very easily.

Affiliated Faction: Loosely Mageborn, mostly neutral/apathetic.

Backstory: “...Mother?” Florence looked up. She knew there was a bruise starting to form on her face, the sharp sting of her the woman’s slap aching through her cheek. She watched pale hair— almost white slide past her face, revealing the sight of a middle aged woman, hair previously dark, but now greying with age. Thick makeup was layered over her face, red lipstick bright-dark and pursed in a scowl.

“You've brought shame to our family name, worthless and good for nothing-- ” Thea Astraeus looked down at her, pale green eyes cold and frosty, as she turned and strided out of the room, and Florence scrambled to catch up to her stepmother.

“I- Wait- Mother!” She fumbled and slipped and fell onto the floor, dress catching on her feet and felt the impact of the marble flooring, cold and hard. The blonde pushed herself up, every bone in her body aching as she crawled towards the woman who destroyed everything.

Her father’s pride, her family’s morals. Everything.

Astraeus looked down, and Florence knew she made a pitiful sight, desperate and fearful, and that amused the witch more— if anything. Astraeus clicked her tongue, and gave a spiteful smile, and walked out of the hall, heels clicking as she called out,

“Do leave before midnight— darling. You’re a sore sight.”

— — — — — —

(And Florence left, with nothing but a few pieces of gold coins and a sword strapped to her back, and an aching part left in her heart. A hole that wouldn’t be filled in a very, very long time.)

 

[Mysteerious]

'Sair' Avery Schrödinger

Age: 32

Race: Human - Mageborn hybrid

Gender: Unknown - they/them/theirs for pronouns, Sair for formal title

Sexuality: Gynephile

Appearance: Avery is 5"6 tall, fair skin, androgynous body, with a green-ish brown shade of eyes and medium-length hazel hair with fringes on the front and slight curls at the end. Avery puts comfort above all in clothing choices, often dressing in a mix of casual and formal clothing. They often have a scarf around their neck, and loose-fitting double-layered mage robes of gold and white colors. Underneath the robes are usually brown boots and light blue pants. They speak in a modulated, silvery voice, with impeccable mannerism.
Mild photophobia.

Personality: Avery, despite holding hugely prestigious positions - Member of the Mage Council, as well as manager of The Great Library of Alexandria - has a rather nonchalant attitude towards most things in life, sometimes perhaps too casual in attitude, despite the usually formal expressions. Playing the role of a teacher, a facilitator, and a councilor, Avery is caring and nurturing in nature. Deep down, however, they’re insecure, or perhaps paranoid, about the true purpose of life. What if I’m not doing enough? What value can I create for life?
They’re afraid of going down the same road as their mother - her obsession with knowledge lead to the mere accumulation of it and will inevitably result in bringing everything to her grave, the library was merely an unexpected (though pleasant) side effect. At the risk of their own sanity, Avery appears to be calm and collected, always try to care for others, and wishes to make a real impact on the world.(edited)

Anima - the machine that alters hearts: One of Avery’s greatest projects in the underground workshop of the library, a product of collaboration from major crafters and sorcerers within the span of 10 years. The machine is powered by arcane magic, requiring 2 full days of accumulation to power up. One blast of it can affect an area of one mile radius, amplifying specific emotions of those in its area of effect, depending on the willpower of the person in its mind chamber. Created with the intent to spread peace and dispell evils.

Abilities:
Altered fate: Avery can enter a state of quantum uncertainty, in which any outcome of themselves can be chosen. As long as there’s a chance, it will happen. This leads to their seemingly incongruent nickname in the council - The Jester.
Arcane magic: Avery uses a mixture of fire, ice and wind magic, with an adept level of mastery, though fuelled by a rather low mana pool. Versatile, but not very combat-effective.

Strengths: Immensely knowledgable, can alter probability to their advantages, and use a variety of magic.
Weaknesses: Very low stamina and is deeply paranoid