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Voices in My Head
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Name: Sierra Misaki
Alias: Deadly Blossom
Species: Cybernetically-Enhanced Human
Age: 26
Height: 4'9"
Weight: 90 lbs
Appearance
Sierra is a pretty girl with raven-black hair, bright green eyes, and light brown skin. She typically favors light, form fitting clothing, such as a white camisole with dark leggings, but wears a high-collared leather jacket, even when unseasonable; the long sleeves hide her prosthetic arm and the high collar hides the scarring on the left side of her neck from the injury which removed her arm. Sierra is short, slender, and often-overlooked. She has not grown since she was 13, likely a side-effect of the nanobots.
Personality
Misaki is an orphan. She remembers her parents, but not well. Since she has been alone in the City of Nexus since the age of 5, she has learned not to trust people, and she even keeps those she communicates with on a daily basis at arm's length. Socially, she's quiet, shy, and awkward. However, when it comes to work, she is fast, efficient, and ruthless. She comes from a life where her next meal depends on her performance, and she likes to eat.
Tech
Nanobots
These bots are self-repairing, self-replicating, and controlled through a connection to the medulla oblongata. As such, they are controlled unconsciously just as any other bodily function would be. They provide enhanced passive healing and a preternatural sense for danger. It is possible that Sierra will find more uses for them in the future.
Prosthesis
This high-quality robotic arm is physically fused to Sierra's body. It is frightfully strong, and Sierra has had it for long enough to consider it an extension of herself; she doesn't even notice it's there most of the time. Sierra has heard on the street that there are "splicers" who will add tech to such devices, but she has not sought out such people as of yet, and likely does not have the scratch to cover it anyway. But perhaps someday, that will change.
Weapons
Sierra has twin knives, purchased by saving from her consistent jobs into the rifts. She maintains them almost religiously, and carries all the kit to do so, such as stones and oil.
Skills
Stealth
Forged of necessity, Sierra is exceptionally adept at sneaking and hiding. The aided sensory perception afforded by her nanobots only helps her natural talent.
Combat
While Sierra was never formally taught how to fight, she picked up what tricks she encountered in her myriad confrontations and has worked them together into an art form all her own. With or without her daggers, she flows as she fights, almost dance-like. She's constantly observing and has been known to adopt other people's styles at an alarming rate. While she started learning this skill at a young age, she got significantly better after her rescue, and it's likely that the nanobots are, at least in part, responsible for this improvement.
Danger Sense
The nanobots afford Sierra a unique ability to sense danger and react faster than a human normally could. Sierra has never been asked to explain the feeling, but if she were, she would merely describe it as a feeling of wrong-ness, followed by a knowledge of how to avoid the danger.
Passive Healing
Sierra's nanobots afford her greatly-enhanced natural healing. They consistently repair tissues, keeping her in top shape. As a side effect, she has also never been sick. It should be noted that weeks of convalescence are achieved in about a day, but no appreciable change can be seen on the battlefield's time scale; Sierra is not a superhero.
History
Sierra was born in Nexus. Her parents were adventurers, exploring the rifts. After Sierra was born, her parents slowed down, but they were offered one final job when she was five: one that would ensure Sierra's future. Feeling that they could not pass up this opportunity, her parents took the job. Unfortunately, the rift to the job was exceedingly unstable, and they were not able to return. No confirmation of death was ever given; still, Sierra never saw them again.
Sierra was orphaned. She did what was necessary to survive, which meant stealing meals, running from the law, and scrapping with other local urchins. While this was unfortunate, it taught her to take care of herself from a very young age, as well as gave her some basic stealth and fighting skills.
Sierra was thirteen when she first traveled the rifts. The job was posted by a wealthy, anonymous client, and she went solo. The mission: assassinate some local magistrate, probably because his taxes were spoiling the clients trades or something. Sierra did not care about such things. She cared about herself, and that meant food in her belly, which meant doing whatever the posting said. Sierra snuck into the magistrate's manor, easily dispatched the old codger, and was on her way back to the rift when she was spotted by the local guard.
If Sierra had done a modicum of research, she'd have known that this realm was known for its magicians. The magistrate had activated a spell which would alert people in the event of his untimely death, and Sierra had activated it. Treated as a hostile, the guard launched fireballs at her just as she was entering the rift. The fireballs carried her through, but when she arrived in Nexus, her entire back was covered in burns, the explosions had torn off her left arm, and the force from he fireballs had caused her to flip and break her neck. She lay on her back, unable to move but very much alive, thankful that the paralysis blocked out the searing pain in her back, and after a moment she passed out.
Sierra's client was at the rift in Nexus when she tumbled through it. He had not intended to make contact, but merely to see the agent who would be receiving his money. He was aghast at the condition in which she arrived and, seeing she was still basically a child, had her rushed to his company.
He employed a team of scientists and doctors, who he tasked with the girl's recovery. They injected her with nanobots, who went to work repairing the tissues on her back and in her spine. As the nanobots worked, the medical team put a cybernetic implant in the base of her skull which would allow her to control the nanobots. After all the wounds were closed, the doctors set about replacing Sierra's arm with a robotic prosthesis, which was again controlled by the cybernetic implant.
The benefactor never revealed himself to Sierra, nor was she given an explanation. Most clients would have let her die, especially since her job was already done. On the one hand, she thought it was possible that her client felt guilty seeing such a young girl in peril from his actions. On the other hand, she thought it possible that this was the man who sent her parents into the void 8 years ago, and that he may have recognized her. Either way mattered little to Sierra. She woke up in an inn on Nexus, healed but sore, with nothing to trace back to the client. Luckily, he had still paid her.
Over the next decade or so, Sierra continued doing missions into the rifts, after doing a bit of research first. She had come to master her prosthesis and the nanobots saved her ass a couple of times. In addition to providing healing, they analyzed her five senses and gave her a funny feeling when something was amiss, giving her something of a sense for danger. The prosthesis was good enough that she didn't notice it most of the time, but it was also significantly stronger than she was, which helped her out of the occasional bind. She favored mercenary and assassination work, which earned her the nickname of "Deadly Blossom", based around her beauty, her grisly work, and a play on her last name, from the characters for 3 blossoms.
Alias: Deadly Blossom
Species: Cybernetically-Enhanced Human
Age: 26
Height: 4'9"
Weight: 90 lbs
Appearance
Sierra is a pretty girl with raven-black hair, bright green eyes, and light brown skin. She typically favors light, form fitting clothing, such as a white camisole with dark leggings, but wears a high-collared leather jacket, even when unseasonable; the long sleeves hide her prosthetic arm and the high collar hides the scarring on the left side of her neck from the injury which removed her arm. Sierra is short, slender, and often-overlooked. She has not grown since she was 13, likely a side-effect of the nanobots.
Personality
Misaki is an orphan. She remembers her parents, but not well. Since she has been alone in the City of Nexus since the age of 5, she has learned not to trust people, and she even keeps those she communicates with on a daily basis at arm's length. Socially, she's quiet, shy, and awkward. However, when it comes to work, she is fast, efficient, and ruthless. She comes from a life where her next meal depends on her performance, and she likes to eat.
Tech
Nanobots
These bots are self-repairing, self-replicating, and controlled through a connection to the medulla oblongata. As such, they are controlled unconsciously just as any other bodily function would be. They provide enhanced passive healing and a preternatural sense for danger. It is possible that Sierra will find more uses for them in the future.
Prosthesis
This high-quality robotic arm is physically fused to Sierra's body. It is frightfully strong, and Sierra has had it for long enough to consider it an extension of herself; she doesn't even notice it's there most of the time. Sierra has heard on the street that there are "splicers" who will add tech to such devices, but she has not sought out such people as of yet, and likely does not have the scratch to cover it anyway. But perhaps someday, that will change.
Weapons
Sierra has twin knives, purchased by saving from her consistent jobs into the rifts. She maintains them almost religiously, and carries all the kit to do so, such as stones and oil.
Skills
Stealth
Forged of necessity, Sierra is exceptionally adept at sneaking and hiding. The aided sensory perception afforded by her nanobots only helps her natural talent.
Combat
While Sierra was never formally taught how to fight, she picked up what tricks she encountered in her myriad confrontations and has worked them together into an art form all her own. With or without her daggers, she flows as she fights, almost dance-like. She's constantly observing and has been known to adopt other people's styles at an alarming rate. While she started learning this skill at a young age, she got significantly better after her rescue, and it's likely that the nanobots are, at least in part, responsible for this improvement.
Danger Sense
The nanobots afford Sierra a unique ability to sense danger and react faster than a human normally could. Sierra has never been asked to explain the feeling, but if she were, she would merely describe it as a feeling of wrong-ness, followed by a knowledge of how to avoid the danger.
Passive Healing
Sierra's nanobots afford her greatly-enhanced natural healing. They consistently repair tissues, keeping her in top shape. As a side effect, she has also never been sick. It should be noted that weeks of convalescence are achieved in about a day, but no appreciable change can be seen on the battlefield's time scale; Sierra is not a superhero.
History
Sierra was born in Nexus. Her parents were adventurers, exploring the rifts. After Sierra was born, her parents slowed down, but they were offered one final job when she was five: one that would ensure Sierra's future. Feeling that they could not pass up this opportunity, her parents took the job. Unfortunately, the rift to the job was exceedingly unstable, and they were not able to return. No confirmation of death was ever given; still, Sierra never saw them again.
Sierra was orphaned. She did what was necessary to survive, which meant stealing meals, running from the law, and scrapping with other local urchins. While this was unfortunate, it taught her to take care of herself from a very young age, as well as gave her some basic stealth and fighting skills.
Sierra was thirteen when she first traveled the rifts. The job was posted by a wealthy, anonymous client, and she went solo. The mission: assassinate some local magistrate, probably because his taxes were spoiling the clients trades or something. Sierra did not care about such things. She cared about herself, and that meant food in her belly, which meant doing whatever the posting said. Sierra snuck into the magistrate's manor, easily dispatched the old codger, and was on her way back to the rift when she was spotted by the local guard.
If Sierra had done a modicum of research, she'd have known that this realm was known for its magicians. The magistrate had activated a spell which would alert people in the event of his untimely death, and Sierra had activated it. Treated as a hostile, the guard launched fireballs at her just as she was entering the rift. The fireballs carried her through, but when she arrived in Nexus, her entire back was covered in burns, the explosions had torn off her left arm, and the force from he fireballs had caused her to flip and break her neck. She lay on her back, unable to move but very much alive, thankful that the paralysis blocked out the searing pain in her back, and after a moment she passed out.
Sierra's client was at the rift in Nexus when she tumbled through it. He had not intended to make contact, but merely to see the agent who would be receiving his money. He was aghast at the condition in which she arrived and, seeing she was still basically a child, had her rushed to his company.
He employed a team of scientists and doctors, who he tasked with the girl's recovery. They injected her with nanobots, who went to work repairing the tissues on her back and in her spine. As the nanobots worked, the medical team put a cybernetic implant in the base of her skull which would allow her to control the nanobots. After all the wounds were closed, the doctors set about replacing Sierra's arm with a robotic prosthesis, which was again controlled by the cybernetic implant.
The benefactor never revealed himself to Sierra, nor was she given an explanation. Most clients would have let her die, especially since her job was already done. On the one hand, she thought it was possible that her client felt guilty seeing such a young girl in peril from his actions. On the other hand, she thought it possible that this was the man who sent her parents into the void 8 years ago, and that he may have recognized her. Either way mattered little to Sierra. She woke up in an inn on Nexus, healed but sore, with nothing to trace back to the client. Luckily, he had still paid her.
Over the next decade or so, Sierra continued doing missions into the rifts, after doing a bit of research first. She had come to master her prosthesis and the nanobots saved her ass a couple of times. In addition to providing healing, they analyzed her five senses and gave her a funny feeling when something was amiss, giving her something of a sense for danger. The prosthesis was good enough that she didn't notice it most of the time, but it was also significantly stronger than she was, which helped her out of the occasional bind. She favored mercenary and assassination work, which earned her the nickname of "Deadly Blossom", based around her beauty, her grisly work, and a play on her last name, from the characters for 3 blossoms.
Name: Lance Xavier
Alias: The Judge
Race: Half-Daemon/Half-Angel
Age: Ageless, though he appears to be in his mid-twenties.
Gender: Male
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 205 lbs
Appearance: Lance shows traits from both sides of his heritage. Standing slightly taller than average at six feet, Lance is muscular but lithe. His eyes change, depending on the circumstances. On some occasions, they are the brightest blue, as though reflecting the sky, and at others, a crimson that would put the fiery depths of hell to shame. He has two feathery wings, but of a grey tint. His hair, which falls to his lower back, is black. His trenchcoat is a fine, neutral grey, made of a tight-weave cotton fabric. His undershirt, which shows through behind the armor and trenchcoat, is white, whereas the pants are black. His boots are a charcoal-black color, but with silvery metal fittings (Heel and toe and sole). His full-plate body armor is much like his boots, in that it is black as night, but with the white-silver metal finishings around the edges. Strapped to his waist, in an ornate sheath, is his sword, dubbed Destroyer of Worlds.
Weapons/Equipment:
Claymore||Destroyer of Worlds - This blade, forged of the black steel from the pits of hell, over the blessed fires of creation, is a stunning 57 inches long from point to pommel. Ten inches are accommodated by the ornate pommel, grip, and hilt, balanced masterfully with the 44 inch blade. A black opal resides in the center of the cross of the handguard and the hilt. At the very base of the blade, before it meets the handguard, is an elaborately etched ankh in a sea of fire. The metal is blessedly light, and intensely durable. The black blade gives off subtle light, only visible when ambient light is low. The blessed/cursed blade is used as an energy conduit for many of his more powerful attacks.
Plate Mail||Mother's Heart - This would be considered a masterpiece to any smith who appraised it. It is forged of the same steel and in the same manner as the blade, but where the metal is worked more (i.e.: around the edges), the steel has taken a more silvery tone, as chrome. This armor has served Lance well in the past, and, though scores and scrapes abound on it's dark surface, it has lasted for centuries unscathed. The same symbol decorates the chest of the armor as on the sword, albiet on a larger scale, miraculously unmarred: A holy ankh surrounded by a baptismal flame, as though submersed in it. The armor protects his upper body to nearly all attacks; it would take a miracle to pierce it.
Personality: Many would say that Lance does not have much of a personality. These people see Lance from the outside, and have no idea the thoughts that crash headlong through Lance's head every waking day and every sleepless night. Lance, neither a being of good or bad, but a being of impartial justice, is quiet in his demeanor. He is not very keen on friendship, and strives to keep the world at a balance. If darkness swells, Lance would want to smite it. If light flourishes, Lance would put an end to that, as well. The life as a Judge of Life is a lonely one, and Lance is a very lonely man. Such is his fate, though, and such will it be. Being more-or-less hermetic does have an effect on the mind, however, and Lance sometimes believes that he is talking to his parents in his head.
Powers/Abilities: Many of these abilities are based on amplifying his spirit through his sword, the Destroyer of Worlds. Not all of them depend on the weapon to use, though. It will be specified if the sword is needed.
Basic Abilities - These abilities are support abilities, mundane in nature, and constantly in effect.
Flight: A being with wings, Lance can fly as easily as he can walk.
Swordplay: Lance is adept at using his sword as its primary function. He has trained with it for centuries, and have mastered the nuances of the blade. He is a deadly weapon when holding his sword. He realizes also that a sword is not the only weapon a fighter posesses, and will fight with elbows and knees, fists and feet if necessary.
Agility: Lance, while muscular, is very lithe. He is graceful and agile in his movements, and often appears to dance as he fights.
Unarmed Powers - These powers signify the ability to manipulate energy without channeling and amplifying it through the blade. These may be used with or without his sword.
Dark/Light orbs: From the palm of his hand, Lance can issue either a single or a volley of orbs, of his choice of element. This is effective as a diversion, however, it would inflict major damage or kill only a minor NPC. It's more of a nuisance than an attack. Very little energy drain.
Telekinesis: Lance may move inanimate objects with his mind. He has not reached his carrying limit yet, though it did give him a headache when he tossed a Mack Truck at his enemy with his mind once. Energy drain depends on the size of the object.
True Seeing: As a Judge, it is his duty to judge the souls of the mighty. As such, he is granted the gift of inner sight, wherein he can see the nature of a subject's soul, assuming that the subject's mind is weaker than his own. Little sustained energy drain.
Armed Powers - These are the more potent attacks that Lance possesses. They require his sword in hand to be used.
Dark/Light imbue: Lance may imbue his sword with either element. The sword appears as a nexus/vortex of light. Often, it depends on the nature of the monster he is fighting. Moderate sustained energy drain.
Dance of Grey: Lance performs a number of dance-like sword maneuvers, dealing rather heavy damage. A very quick succession of blows. Blockable and dodgeable, but very difficult to do so. Moderate energy drain.
Destroyer Shotgun: Lance, upon placing the flat of his left hand against the flat of the blade, channels (un)holy energy through the Destroyer of Worlds. The energy gathers in the blade until released, unleashing a devastating blast from the tip when it does. If it hits, it hurts. If you're too close, it's probably going to hit. Like a shotgun. High energy drain.
Judgement Day: Lance's ultimate attack. It requires immense concentration and energy to perform. By infusing the blade with his very soul, and releasing it from the tip of the blade, a cannon-like effect is created. Little can stand up to the force of the attack, and it would be good advice to get out of the way, if you can. It moves fast, but it is dodgeable. Barely.
History: Lance was begotten of the daemon Kain and the seraphim Loreili. Let me weave a tale for you, that one might understand how this unlikely match came to be. To understand this story, one must be taken back thousands of years, to a time before man.
A great battle was erupting in the heavens, civil unrest caused by an evil entity. Lucifer was his name, forged of the fabric of heaven in the shape of an angel. He thought he'd become more powerful than his Creator, however, and felt that a regime change was in order. His coup was halted, however, and the Almighty banished him from the pleasures of Heaven. Lucifer fell from grace, doomed to spend an eternity in the fiery depths of Hell. God, o wrathful God that he is, banished all those who did not take his side in the war, to keep the Devil company. The leader of Satan's army, Kain, was among the first to be sent to his master. Once a powerful ArchSeraphim of battle, he was transmogrified into a hellish beast with six leathery black wings, glowing crimson eyes, and a thirst for blood. He resumed his place at Satan's side, where he waged war against the Holy Realm with great ardour.
In one great but ill-recorded battle, Kain Xavier made a raid of the Heavens, trying to get to the Creator. Of course, the fleet of angels came forth to stop his progress, and for the most part, it succeeded. Holy fire and dark energies were slung back and forth, and both sides suffered heavy losses. Unfortunately, with the Fires of Creation on the side of the Holy, angels could be created and sent to battle as fast as Lucifer and Kain could slaughter them. Kain was eventually met with his match--another seraphim of nearly equal strength. Her name was Loreili, with blonde hair and blue eyes, like most angels. She was, however, dangerously skilled in combat, a deadly opponent. With a baptism of fire, she managed to single-handedly decimate Kain's forces. Kain, being the general and the overall most powerful combatant for the swarming horde of daemons, rose to face the challenge.
The sword that would become the Destroyer of Worlds rested in Kain's left hand, the Holy Avenger in Loreili's right. The Holy Avenger is a broadsword, enchanted by holiness, with the hilt in the shape of an ankh, the pommel creating the circle at the top. A single ruby adorned the blade, set into the center of the blade, halfway from pommel to tip. Kain struck first with all the hatred his black heart could muster. Loreili kept up with the daemon's assault with ease, striking out occasionally in a counterattack, each time scoring blood. Each strike that went unlanded sent the dark general into a frenzy, and eventually he managed to remove one of the angel's wings. Though she still had five to support her weight, the momentary disorientation cost her dearly. Instead of finishing her, as he might otherwise have done, Kain wanted to keep her prisoner. Lust filled his eyes as he reguarded her, for she was truely a beautiful specimen. He removed her right hand, Holy Avenger falling to earth, and ordered four of his men to escort the angel to Hell. Wounded as she was, she was unable to cast holy fire, and she went fairly easily.
His quarry caught, he ordered his force to fall back. As he sealed himself safely back into his fiery realm, Lucifer guided Kain to his room, where he was not all that surprised to see Loreili, bound and stripped. That night, Lance was concieved, not of love but of lust, and ten years later (merely the bat of an eye to such immortal beings), he was born. Kain had kept Loreili alive long enough to give birth to his son, then Kain ravaged her once more before ending her life by removing the remainder of her wings and severing her neck. Kain had a son, which he would raise with enough fear and hatred to fuel Hitler's army.
Years became decades, decades to centuries. Lance grew, slowly, into a fine man. He had the good looks of his mother, and the battle prowess of his father. Kain was a harsh father, and Lance harbored hatred not for the world, as his father did, but for the man himself, and one day it bubbled over. Kain had nearly killed Lance earlier in a rage, and now, while he slept, Lance plunged his father's blade into it's owner's heart, spilling the black daemon's blood over the blade. Dying, Kain's spoke seven words: "You will never be rid of me!" His body vanished, and there was no way to trace the murder back to Lance.
Weilding the blade of his master and father, Lance took the reigns of the army and led it to many a battle, though never to victory. After a particularly horrible defeat, Lucifer approached Lance. The weaver of lies, shadowmaster extraordinaire, nearly tricked Lance into killing himself. When he proved to have too strong a will, Lucifer attempted to dispatch him himself. Lance barely got away with his skin, fleeing to the only other realm available to daemons: The mortal world.
He wandered the world, homeless, meaningless, a harmless vagrant. Out of the harshness of Hell, his dual nature kept him from murdering humans, and even several times he ended up saving a person or two from a lesser evil. One day, the angel Gabriel appeared to Lance, having kept an eye on him since he was an infant. His influence was nil in the netherworld, but he had as much ease of transport to Earth as Lance did. He told him of his mother, how she had fought bravely in battle, how his father had raped, then killed her. He offered to help him by offering him the power of his mother--the power of angels. Lance accepted his offer, a new meaning in his life opening up. Gabriel parted from him briefly, taking the blade that had murdered his mother to the Heavens to reforge it, make it anew. He returned with a sword as wondrous as any: Of the durable, superior steel of hell, but of heaven's fine make. The hilt was completely remade, and the symbol of the ankh blazed on the fresh steel. Along with the blade, Gabriel had reforged his armor, making him into a full Knight of the Holy. His daemonic nature was supressed, and he fought heaven's battles on earth, assignments passed out from the Almighty himself, translated through Gabriel.
Lance has been working in this way ever since, working his way ever closer to striking back as Satan and the underworld as a whole, symbolizing all that his bastard father was not.
Alias: The Judge
Race: Half-Daemon/Half-Angel
Age: Ageless, though he appears to be in his mid-twenties.
Gender: Male
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 205 lbs
Appearance: Lance shows traits from both sides of his heritage. Standing slightly taller than average at six feet, Lance is muscular but lithe. His eyes change, depending on the circumstances. On some occasions, they are the brightest blue, as though reflecting the sky, and at others, a crimson that would put the fiery depths of hell to shame. He has two feathery wings, but of a grey tint. His hair, which falls to his lower back, is black. His trenchcoat is a fine, neutral grey, made of a tight-weave cotton fabric. His undershirt, which shows through behind the armor and trenchcoat, is white, whereas the pants are black. His boots are a charcoal-black color, but with silvery metal fittings (Heel and toe and sole). His full-plate body armor is much like his boots, in that it is black as night, but with the white-silver metal finishings around the edges. Strapped to his waist, in an ornate sheath, is his sword, dubbed Destroyer of Worlds.
Weapons/Equipment:
Claymore||Destroyer of Worlds - This blade, forged of the black steel from the pits of hell, over the blessed fires of creation, is a stunning 57 inches long from point to pommel. Ten inches are accommodated by the ornate pommel, grip, and hilt, balanced masterfully with the 44 inch blade. A black opal resides in the center of the cross of the handguard and the hilt. At the very base of the blade, before it meets the handguard, is an elaborately etched ankh in a sea of fire. The metal is blessedly light, and intensely durable. The black blade gives off subtle light, only visible when ambient light is low. The blessed/cursed blade is used as an energy conduit for many of his more powerful attacks.
Plate Mail||Mother's Heart - This would be considered a masterpiece to any smith who appraised it. It is forged of the same steel and in the same manner as the blade, but where the metal is worked more (i.e.: around the edges), the steel has taken a more silvery tone, as chrome. This armor has served Lance well in the past, and, though scores and scrapes abound on it's dark surface, it has lasted for centuries unscathed. The same symbol decorates the chest of the armor as on the sword, albiet on a larger scale, miraculously unmarred: A holy ankh surrounded by a baptismal flame, as though submersed in it. The armor protects his upper body to nearly all attacks; it would take a miracle to pierce it.
Personality: Many would say that Lance does not have much of a personality. These people see Lance from the outside, and have no idea the thoughts that crash headlong through Lance's head every waking day and every sleepless night. Lance, neither a being of good or bad, but a being of impartial justice, is quiet in his demeanor. He is not very keen on friendship, and strives to keep the world at a balance. If darkness swells, Lance would want to smite it. If light flourishes, Lance would put an end to that, as well. The life as a Judge of Life is a lonely one, and Lance is a very lonely man. Such is his fate, though, and such will it be. Being more-or-less hermetic does have an effect on the mind, however, and Lance sometimes believes that he is talking to his parents in his head.
Powers/Abilities: Many of these abilities are based on amplifying his spirit through his sword, the Destroyer of Worlds. Not all of them depend on the weapon to use, though. It will be specified if the sword is needed.
Basic Abilities - These abilities are support abilities, mundane in nature, and constantly in effect.
Flight: A being with wings, Lance can fly as easily as he can walk.
Swordplay: Lance is adept at using his sword as its primary function. He has trained with it for centuries, and have mastered the nuances of the blade. He is a deadly weapon when holding his sword. He realizes also that a sword is not the only weapon a fighter posesses, and will fight with elbows and knees, fists and feet if necessary.
Agility: Lance, while muscular, is very lithe. He is graceful and agile in his movements, and often appears to dance as he fights.
Unarmed Powers - These powers signify the ability to manipulate energy without channeling and amplifying it through the blade. These may be used with or without his sword.
Dark/Light orbs: From the palm of his hand, Lance can issue either a single or a volley of orbs, of his choice of element. This is effective as a diversion, however, it would inflict major damage or kill only a minor NPC. It's more of a nuisance than an attack. Very little energy drain.
Telekinesis: Lance may move inanimate objects with his mind. He has not reached his carrying limit yet, though it did give him a headache when he tossed a Mack Truck at his enemy with his mind once. Energy drain depends on the size of the object.
True Seeing: As a Judge, it is his duty to judge the souls of the mighty. As such, he is granted the gift of inner sight, wherein he can see the nature of a subject's soul, assuming that the subject's mind is weaker than his own. Little sustained energy drain.
Armed Powers - These are the more potent attacks that Lance possesses. They require his sword in hand to be used.
Dark/Light imbue: Lance may imbue his sword with either element. The sword appears as a nexus/vortex of light. Often, it depends on the nature of the monster he is fighting. Moderate sustained energy drain.
Dance of Grey: Lance performs a number of dance-like sword maneuvers, dealing rather heavy damage. A very quick succession of blows. Blockable and dodgeable, but very difficult to do so. Moderate energy drain.
Destroyer Shotgun: Lance, upon placing the flat of his left hand against the flat of the blade, channels (un)holy energy through the Destroyer of Worlds. The energy gathers in the blade until released, unleashing a devastating blast from the tip when it does. If it hits, it hurts. If you're too close, it's probably going to hit. Like a shotgun. High energy drain.
Judgement Day: Lance's ultimate attack. It requires immense concentration and energy to perform. By infusing the blade with his very soul, and releasing it from the tip of the blade, a cannon-like effect is created. Little can stand up to the force of the attack, and it would be good advice to get out of the way, if you can. It moves fast, but it is dodgeable. Barely.
History: Lance was begotten of the daemon Kain and the seraphim Loreili. Let me weave a tale for you, that one might understand how this unlikely match came to be. To understand this story, one must be taken back thousands of years, to a time before man.
A great battle was erupting in the heavens, civil unrest caused by an evil entity. Lucifer was his name, forged of the fabric of heaven in the shape of an angel. He thought he'd become more powerful than his Creator, however, and felt that a regime change was in order. His coup was halted, however, and the Almighty banished him from the pleasures of Heaven. Lucifer fell from grace, doomed to spend an eternity in the fiery depths of Hell. God, o wrathful God that he is, banished all those who did not take his side in the war, to keep the Devil company. The leader of Satan's army, Kain, was among the first to be sent to his master. Once a powerful ArchSeraphim of battle, he was transmogrified into a hellish beast with six leathery black wings, glowing crimson eyes, and a thirst for blood. He resumed his place at Satan's side, where he waged war against the Holy Realm with great ardour.
In one great but ill-recorded battle, Kain Xavier made a raid of the Heavens, trying to get to the Creator. Of course, the fleet of angels came forth to stop his progress, and for the most part, it succeeded. Holy fire and dark energies were slung back and forth, and both sides suffered heavy losses. Unfortunately, with the Fires of Creation on the side of the Holy, angels could be created and sent to battle as fast as Lucifer and Kain could slaughter them. Kain was eventually met with his match--another seraphim of nearly equal strength. Her name was Loreili, with blonde hair and blue eyes, like most angels. She was, however, dangerously skilled in combat, a deadly opponent. With a baptism of fire, she managed to single-handedly decimate Kain's forces. Kain, being the general and the overall most powerful combatant for the swarming horde of daemons, rose to face the challenge.
The sword that would become the Destroyer of Worlds rested in Kain's left hand, the Holy Avenger in Loreili's right. The Holy Avenger is a broadsword, enchanted by holiness, with the hilt in the shape of an ankh, the pommel creating the circle at the top. A single ruby adorned the blade, set into the center of the blade, halfway from pommel to tip. Kain struck first with all the hatred his black heart could muster. Loreili kept up with the daemon's assault with ease, striking out occasionally in a counterattack, each time scoring blood. Each strike that went unlanded sent the dark general into a frenzy, and eventually he managed to remove one of the angel's wings. Though she still had five to support her weight, the momentary disorientation cost her dearly. Instead of finishing her, as he might otherwise have done, Kain wanted to keep her prisoner. Lust filled his eyes as he reguarded her, for she was truely a beautiful specimen. He removed her right hand, Holy Avenger falling to earth, and ordered four of his men to escort the angel to Hell. Wounded as she was, she was unable to cast holy fire, and she went fairly easily.
His quarry caught, he ordered his force to fall back. As he sealed himself safely back into his fiery realm, Lucifer guided Kain to his room, where he was not all that surprised to see Loreili, bound and stripped. That night, Lance was concieved, not of love but of lust, and ten years later (merely the bat of an eye to such immortal beings), he was born. Kain had kept Loreili alive long enough to give birth to his son, then Kain ravaged her once more before ending her life by removing the remainder of her wings and severing her neck. Kain had a son, which he would raise with enough fear and hatred to fuel Hitler's army.
Years became decades, decades to centuries. Lance grew, slowly, into a fine man. He had the good looks of his mother, and the battle prowess of his father. Kain was a harsh father, and Lance harbored hatred not for the world, as his father did, but for the man himself, and one day it bubbled over. Kain had nearly killed Lance earlier in a rage, and now, while he slept, Lance plunged his father's blade into it's owner's heart, spilling the black daemon's blood over the blade. Dying, Kain's spoke seven words: "You will never be rid of me!" His body vanished, and there was no way to trace the murder back to Lance.
Weilding the blade of his master and father, Lance took the reigns of the army and led it to many a battle, though never to victory. After a particularly horrible defeat, Lucifer approached Lance. The weaver of lies, shadowmaster extraordinaire, nearly tricked Lance into killing himself. When he proved to have too strong a will, Lucifer attempted to dispatch him himself. Lance barely got away with his skin, fleeing to the only other realm available to daemons: The mortal world.
He wandered the world, homeless, meaningless, a harmless vagrant. Out of the harshness of Hell, his dual nature kept him from murdering humans, and even several times he ended up saving a person or two from a lesser evil. One day, the angel Gabriel appeared to Lance, having kept an eye on him since he was an infant. His influence was nil in the netherworld, but he had as much ease of transport to Earth as Lance did. He told him of his mother, how she had fought bravely in battle, how his father had raped, then killed her. He offered to help him by offering him the power of his mother--the power of angels. Lance accepted his offer, a new meaning in his life opening up. Gabriel parted from him briefly, taking the blade that had murdered his mother to the Heavens to reforge it, make it anew. He returned with a sword as wondrous as any: Of the durable, superior steel of hell, but of heaven's fine make. The hilt was completely remade, and the symbol of the ankh blazed on the fresh steel. Along with the blade, Gabriel had reforged his armor, making him into a full Knight of the Holy. His daemonic nature was supressed, and he fought heaven's battles on earth, assignments passed out from the Almighty himself, translated through Gabriel.
Lance has been working in this way ever since, working his way ever closer to striking back as Satan and the underworld as a whole, symbolizing all that his bastard father was not.
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Name Zane Lightfoot
Alias: None
Species: Human/Lightning Elemental
Age: 16
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 135 lbs
Appearance:
Zane appears to be an average young man, perhaps a bit short and slight for his age. His blonde hair constantly stands on end, despite all attempts to tame it, and over the years he has given up and now simply cuts it such that it looks alright spiked. His skin is extremely fair, and his brilliant blue eyes almost glow when he gets excited.
Personality:
Zane's nature has always been to be wild and untempered. However, his grandfather has raised him from a young age, and has been very strict about teaching Zane restraint. So most of the time he will seem even tempered, but the facade can drop on a dime.
Gear:
Outside of his clothing (a school uniform), Zane carries nothing of merit. However, as part of his abilities, he may manifest the following:
Aura Blade: A beam of energy which extends from his clenched fist. It's default size is about two feet long, though through some effort he can extend it to nearly 4 feet. As it is energy, this blade is weightless, but he is limited by his own energy throughput to go any larger. Given his elemental nature, the more his composure breaks, the more it resembles electricity, and the more of a wallop it packs. He has trained to the point where sustained use of this ability is relatively free of exertion, though two or more simultaneous blades can be taxing.
ABILITIES:
Major:
Elemental Form: With great effort (though less in times of great peril), Zane can convert his human form into energy, during which his elemental form takes over, absorbing the energy from the mass. He becomes a soul attached to electricity.
Plasma Wave: Ripping the electrons forcibly from the air molecules surrounding him, Zane simultaneously builds electrical potential and makes a bubble of plasma around him. The built up energy is then used to push out the field in a wave. Usable in either form, though greatly enhanced by the elemental form.
Posession: In his elemental form, Zane is little more than energy bound to a soul. As such, he can inhabit other creatures, though creatures with a soul can rebuke his attempt. Unfortunately the host creatures typically die of electric shock, but the same electricity can be used to keep the bodies animated for some time even postmortem.
Minor:
Aura blade: (see gear)
Ki blast: Though fundamentally a human nonelemental technique, since Zane's Ki is tied to electricity, these come with a bit of a shock. Rapid, quick blasts or slower, more powerful strikes are possible through concentration. Like aura blade, the blasts more and more resemble lightning bolts as his composure slips.
Aura Shield: A spherical shield (though it appears hemispherical when he is on the ground) of Zane's concentrated ki. As with Aura Blade and ki blast, as Zane's discipline weakens, the electrical element enters this shield, adding a jolt to would-be attackers. Particularly helpful against energy projectiles, but can hypothetically block anything. Sustained use is draining.
Traps: Zane can build up fields of electrical potential in the ground to make traps. Upon stepping into one, the victim is zapped with a powerful electric shock. Takes some time and concentration to set up though.
Martial Arts (Judo, Karate): While not yet a master in either discipline, Zane excels in hand to hand combat. His grandfather's discipline training included training in both judo and karate.
Speed: Zane is small, light and powerful. As a result his opponents often find him unsettlingly quick. In his elemental form, he travels even quicker, as he is mostly electricity.
History:
Zane was a normal human baby. However, in utero, a lightning elemental came into contact with his mother. The boy's soul latched onto the elemental, and the elemental fused into him as he continued to develop.
As a kid, Zane always got into trouble from his hasty attitude and preturnatural ability to find it. However, one day he was followed home by a supernatural hunter: a human which tracks and dispatches monsters and other such profanities. After he and his family went to bed, the hunter crept in and attempted to kill Zane in his sleep.
Zane's elemental nature instinctively reacted even while the boy slept. He evaporated into electricity and entered the hunter's body, killing him instantly. The sudden electrical charge, however, released a ball of plasma which consumed his home and family.
Zane has no memory of that day, but as a result was taken in and raised by his grandfather. After some time, he discovered his grandson's nature and began training him to control it.
Another hunter by the name of Shiro Nagasaki took an interest in elemental spirits and, using ancient techniques of his clan, was able to crystallize their essences to small gems. Shiro could tap into these essences to utilize the power of the elementals. In a showdown between elemental and hunter, Shiro invoked a massive black hole, consuming Zane. However, instead of death, the boy found himself in the halls of Wayfarer's Point.
Alias: None
Species: Human/Lightning Elemental
Age: 16
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 135 lbs
Appearance:
Zane appears to be an average young man, perhaps a bit short and slight for his age. His blonde hair constantly stands on end, despite all attempts to tame it, and over the years he has given up and now simply cuts it such that it looks alright spiked. His skin is extremely fair, and his brilliant blue eyes almost glow when he gets excited.
Personality:
Zane's nature has always been to be wild and untempered. However, his grandfather has raised him from a young age, and has been very strict about teaching Zane restraint. So most of the time he will seem even tempered, but the facade can drop on a dime.
Gear:
Outside of his clothing (a school uniform), Zane carries nothing of merit. However, as part of his abilities, he may manifest the following:
Aura Blade: A beam of energy which extends from his clenched fist. It's default size is about two feet long, though through some effort he can extend it to nearly 4 feet. As it is energy, this blade is weightless, but he is limited by his own energy throughput to go any larger. Given his elemental nature, the more his composure breaks, the more it resembles electricity, and the more of a wallop it packs. He has trained to the point where sustained use of this ability is relatively free of exertion, though two or more simultaneous blades can be taxing.
ABILITIES:
Major:
Elemental Form: With great effort (though less in times of great peril), Zane can convert his human form into energy, during which his elemental form takes over, absorbing the energy from the mass. He becomes a soul attached to electricity.
Plasma Wave: Ripping the electrons forcibly from the air molecules surrounding him, Zane simultaneously builds electrical potential and makes a bubble of plasma around him. The built up energy is then used to push out the field in a wave. Usable in either form, though greatly enhanced by the elemental form.
Posession: In his elemental form, Zane is little more than energy bound to a soul. As such, he can inhabit other creatures, though creatures with a soul can rebuke his attempt. Unfortunately the host creatures typically die of electric shock, but the same electricity can be used to keep the bodies animated for some time even postmortem.
Minor:
Aura blade: (see gear)
Ki blast: Though fundamentally a human nonelemental technique, since Zane's Ki is tied to electricity, these come with a bit of a shock. Rapid, quick blasts or slower, more powerful strikes are possible through concentration. Like aura blade, the blasts more and more resemble lightning bolts as his composure slips.
Aura Shield: A spherical shield (though it appears hemispherical when he is on the ground) of Zane's concentrated ki. As with Aura Blade and ki blast, as Zane's discipline weakens, the electrical element enters this shield, adding a jolt to would-be attackers. Particularly helpful against energy projectiles, but can hypothetically block anything. Sustained use is draining.
Traps: Zane can build up fields of electrical potential in the ground to make traps. Upon stepping into one, the victim is zapped with a powerful electric shock. Takes some time and concentration to set up though.
Martial Arts (Judo, Karate): While not yet a master in either discipline, Zane excels in hand to hand combat. His grandfather's discipline training included training in both judo and karate.
Speed: Zane is small, light and powerful. As a result his opponents often find him unsettlingly quick. In his elemental form, he travels even quicker, as he is mostly electricity.
History:
Zane was a normal human baby. However, in utero, a lightning elemental came into contact with his mother. The boy's soul latched onto the elemental, and the elemental fused into him as he continued to develop.
As a kid, Zane always got into trouble from his hasty attitude and preturnatural ability to find it. However, one day he was followed home by a supernatural hunter: a human which tracks and dispatches monsters and other such profanities. After he and his family went to bed, the hunter crept in and attempted to kill Zane in his sleep.
Zane's elemental nature instinctively reacted even while the boy slept. He evaporated into electricity and entered the hunter's body, killing him instantly. The sudden electrical charge, however, released a ball of plasma which consumed his home and family.
Zane has no memory of that day, but as a result was taken in and raised by his grandfather. After some time, he discovered his grandson's nature and began training him to control it.
Another hunter by the name of Shiro Nagasaki took an interest in elemental spirits and, using ancient techniques of his clan, was able to crystallize their essences to small gems. Shiro could tap into these essences to utilize the power of the elementals. In a showdown between elemental and hunter, Shiro invoked a massive black hole, consuming Zane. However, instead of death, the boy found himself in the halls of Wayfarer's Point.
Name: Miles Antioch
Alias: Gunslinger
Species: Human
Age: 47
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 187 lbs
Appearance
Miles, though middle-aged, appears to be no more than 35 years of age. He's not classically handsome, but he's certainly not ugly, either. His most prominent features would be his slightly crooked nose and piercing gray eyes. His typical attire is a pair of blue jeans and chambray shirt with criss-crossed leather gun belts slung low over his hips. Out of each holster, the weathered but well-maintained wooden handle of a revolver protrudes. In each gunbelt, a number of replacement shells rest in leather loops. Since his garb and weapons are old-fashioned, the synthetic-fabric bandolier of high-technology rounds strapped from left hip to right shoulder stands out. He hides his messy blonde hair (streaked with a few white hairs, but they blend pretty well with the blonde) with an old Stetson.
Personality
Despite his stark appearance, Miles is actually quite friendly. His first instinct when meeting new people is to assume the best of them. This has disappointed him a number of times in the past, sure, but he reckons that it's better than scraping through life jumping at shadows.
Gear
Revolvers
These are two identical Smith & Wesson Model 500 pistols he left Earth with some 15 years ago. Chambered for 5 special .50 caliber rounds, these guns pack a real wallop with even a standard shell. Despite their substantial size and weight, Miles has relied on these pistols as he traveled the rifts, and he is as familiar with their weight, sighting, and recoil as anyone is familiar with a weapon.
Standard Rounds
The pistol in the right holster always has five standard rounds in it. These are special-issue .50 rounds and he has a near countless amount of spares in his gunbelts at any given time. Miles seldom draws on another person, but we're he to, a standard human would not easily survive a hit to the torso.
Special Rounds
As a gunsmith himself, Miles has manufactured and/or acquired some rather exceptional ammunition through his travels. These are stored in the bandolier across his chest. What's listed here is all he has at the moment, but Miles is always looking for new materials or rounds.
Incendiary: In Nexus, Miles has ready access to alchemical fire grenades. By filling hollow points with the same concoction, he is able to convey the solution from these grenades, resulting in an explosive round.
Armor Piercing: On his travels to a dying world, Miles took a chunk of extremely dense crystallized metal from a crater--hard to say if it was terrestrial or meteorite--but the alloy was able to cut through steel like butter. He is limited on quantity due to the crystal he absconded, but he was able to forge these into armor-piercing rounds. He does still have a bit of the crystal left, but at the moment he only has 5 of these rounds.
Skills
Quick-Draw
Miles is extremely practiced with his .50 caliber revolvers, and is able to draw them with the ease most people can only achieve from a much smaller sidearm. He is a bit faster with his right hand than with his left, but he seldom draws them at once.
Improvisation
A gunslinger who relies solely on his guns is a fool. Ammunition is precious, and if you are ever separated from your weapons you have to be able to survive until you can reunite with them. As such, Miles is a reasonable brawler, though he's certainly no superhuman. In even the speediest pub, though, he's likely to come out the victor of nearly any barfight. He excels in utilizing improvised weapons, such as rocks, sticks, or other standard objects.
History
Miles was born on Earth in the early seventies. His upbringing was unremarkable, but he grew up in a time of wonderful western movies. While Clint Eastwood put his famous portrayal of Dirty Harry even before he was born, it was his favorite movie as a child, and remains so to this day.
Miles knew he could never actually be Dirty Harry (he was far too nice for that), but he always liked the idea of the cowboy, willing to put it all on the line for what he believes in. Enamored with the .44 magnums Eastwood toted in the film, Antioch grew into a metalsmith specializing in firearms. He worked for Smith & Wesson to create the Model 500s he wore on his waist, and was proud to own the original two prototypes, crafted by his own hands.
When in his early thirties, Miles was inexplicably vaulted from his home world into a desert realm. He had nothing except the clothes on his back and his pistols.
Originally attempting to return home, Miles quested through the wasteland, fancying himself a cowboy of the ilk of his childhood hero. He got into a few skirmishes and managed not to die, which set a solid foundation for the man he would eventually become.
When he finally found a rift off that sandbox, expecting to find Earth on the other side, he was surprised to find himself in Nexus. Still, at first he quested through the rifts still trying to find himself home. Now he traveled just for the thrill. He had the opportunity to fulfill his childhood dream, and damned of he wouldn't do so.
Alias: Gunslinger
Species: Human
Age: 47
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 187 lbs
Appearance
Miles, though middle-aged, appears to be no more than 35 years of age. He's not classically handsome, but he's certainly not ugly, either. His most prominent features would be his slightly crooked nose and piercing gray eyes. His typical attire is a pair of blue jeans and chambray shirt with criss-crossed leather gun belts slung low over his hips. Out of each holster, the weathered but well-maintained wooden handle of a revolver protrudes. In each gunbelt, a number of replacement shells rest in leather loops. Since his garb and weapons are old-fashioned, the synthetic-fabric bandolier of high-technology rounds strapped from left hip to right shoulder stands out. He hides his messy blonde hair (streaked with a few white hairs, but they blend pretty well with the blonde) with an old Stetson.
Personality
Despite his stark appearance, Miles is actually quite friendly. His first instinct when meeting new people is to assume the best of them. This has disappointed him a number of times in the past, sure, but he reckons that it's better than scraping through life jumping at shadows.
Gear
Revolvers
These are two identical Smith & Wesson Model 500 pistols he left Earth with some 15 years ago. Chambered for 5 special .50 caliber rounds, these guns pack a real wallop with even a standard shell. Despite their substantial size and weight, Miles has relied on these pistols as he traveled the rifts, and he is as familiar with their weight, sighting, and recoil as anyone is familiar with a weapon.
Standard Rounds
The pistol in the right holster always has five standard rounds in it. These are special-issue .50 rounds and he has a near countless amount of spares in his gunbelts at any given time. Miles seldom draws on another person, but we're he to, a standard human would not easily survive a hit to the torso.
Special Rounds
As a gunsmith himself, Miles has manufactured and/or acquired some rather exceptional ammunition through his travels. These are stored in the bandolier across his chest. What's listed here is all he has at the moment, but Miles is always looking for new materials or rounds.
Incendiary: In Nexus, Miles has ready access to alchemical fire grenades. By filling hollow points with the same concoction, he is able to convey the solution from these grenades, resulting in an explosive round.
Armor Piercing: On his travels to a dying world, Miles took a chunk of extremely dense crystallized metal from a crater--hard to say if it was terrestrial or meteorite--but the alloy was able to cut through steel like butter. He is limited on quantity due to the crystal he absconded, but he was able to forge these into armor-piercing rounds. He does still have a bit of the crystal left, but at the moment he only has 5 of these rounds.
Skills
Quick-Draw
Miles is extremely practiced with his .50 caliber revolvers, and is able to draw them with the ease most people can only achieve from a much smaller sidearm. He is a bit faster with his right hand than with his left, but he seldom draws them at once.
Improvisation
A gunslinger who relies solely on his guns is a fool. Ammunition is precious, and if you are ever separated from your weapons you have to be able to survive until you can reunite with them. As such, Miles is a reasonable brawler, though he's certainly no superhuman. In even the speediest pub, though, he's likely to come out the victor of nearly any barfight. He excels in utilizing improvised weapons, such as rocks, sticks, or other standard objects.
History
Miles was born on Earth in the early seventies. His upbringing was unremarkable, but he grew up in a time of wonderful western movies. While Clint Eastwood put his famous portrayal of Dirty Harry even before he was born, it was his favorite movie as a child, and remains so to this day.
Miles knew he could never actually be Dirty Harry (he was far too nice for that), but he always liked the idea of the cowboy, willing to put it all on the line for what he believes in. Enamored with the .44 magnums Eastwood toted in the film, Antioch grew into a metalsmith specializing in firearms. He worked for Smith & Wesson to create the Model 500s he wore on his waist, and was proud to own the original two prototypes, crafted by his own hands.
When in his early thirties, Miles was inexplicably vaulted from his home world into a desert realm. He had nothing except the clothes on his back and his pistols.
Originally attempting to return home, Miles quested through the wasteland, fancying himself a cowboy of the ilk of his childhood hero. He got into a few skirmishes and managed not to die, which set a solid foundation for the man he would eventually become.
When he finally found a rift off that sandbox, expecting to find Earth on the other side, he was surprised to find himself in Nexus. Still, at first he quested through the rifts still trying to find himself home. Now he traveled just for the thrill. He had the opportunity to fulfill his childhood dream, and damned of he wouldn't do so.