Home Forum Wiki The Rules Newbie Guide Roleplay Guide Plot & Setting Wanted Characters Aedolis Teinar Edanith Libra Cancer Thanatos Inc. Contact Us Copyright Affiliates Advertise Us Advertise You Donate! Playing a Leader

Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Topics - GoblinFae

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 6
1
Wanderers and Independents / Defiant Wish of the Silent Billows Kin
« on: May 07, 2022, 12:20:08 pm »
__________________QUICK STATS
Name Defiant Wish of the Silent Billows Kin
Alias
Age
Gender Female
Species Kaleïko
Ethnicity Kaleïko
Height 6’4”
Occupation Medic
Residence The Loveless

Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Kaleïkos earned the species nickname Katkin for their similarities in initial appearance to anthropomorphized cats. They are however not at all related to cats despite the similarities. Their entire bodies are lightly furred with longer fur growth around the jawline and elbows. Subtle fur patterns are sex-specific. They have large, tufted cat ears and very strong, sleek, prehensile tails. Both hands and feet have a nasty set of retractable claws. Their legs are digitigrade, making them incredibly fast but also easier to topple over if they lose their balance. Their hands however are more human-like although with slightly elongated digits.

One of their most striking differences is their jaw. Kaleïkos possess independently moving upper and lower jaws. Like a shark they are therefore able to extend their jaws outward from their face in order to latch onto prey and drag it back into their mouth. This is aided by a row of incredibly sharp teeth with the ability to be regularly replaced over time.

Defiant Wish has the classic lithe form and broad, flat, barrel chest of her people, even though she is rather short for a female. Her coloring is a rich tawny brown with very subtle darker brown banding best visible in the right lighting. She has deep blue eyes capable of night vision (and in fact glow red when a light is shone on them in the dark) and a long thin nose that has a slight upturn at the tip. Defiant Wish also has a soft, medium, brown bob haircut she is working on growing out longer.

Her tail is like those of the males of her species in that they are not shaggy but the fur does hide a very formative natural weapon. The tip beneath the fur has a lethal barbed, bony point. The shape of this barb is unique to each Kaleïko Kin. Defiant Wish’s particular one is corkscrew shaped with serrated edges so that it may be used both to bludgeon as well as to stab.

Personality
  • Hellcat: She has had to fight for everything to survive in life from the moment she was born. Defiant Wish is fiercely protective of what is hers or what she feels should/can be hers. She does not back down to a challenge she feels she can win and she is far stronger than she looks. When it comes to a fight, Defiant Wish is not stopping until one of you is dead and she is not ready for her brand new freedom to end so soon.
  • Curiosity Killed the Cat: Defiant Wish is incredibly interested in learning new things and exploring the world around her. Everything is a new and confusing adventure and experience to be explored to its fullest. This sometimes has unfortunate consequences for her, but then the burnt hand teaches best.
  • Scaredy-Cat: She is easily spooked by things she doesn’t expect. Despite her excellent hearing and sense of smell, not everything behaves accordingly. Getting the jump on her definitely results in an interesting reaction followed by deep agitation and embarrassment. Probably best to pretend you didn’t notice.
  • Copycat: While not readily well-versed in human culture and society, Defiant Wish is a quick study and is known to imitate those around her until she figures out what is and isn’t acceptable in order to fit in. Sometimes this does get her into trouble though as either it is viewed as mocking someone or someone else has given her wrong information as a joke.

Things
  • Seemingly innocently uses cat puns. It is hard to say whether this is intentional or a result of her struggles with human pronunciations. Just give her a meowment, she’ll get there eventually.
  • Despite it being a culturally inappropriate and highly frowned upon thing to do, Defiant Wish possesses the ability to purr, bark-meow, and scream-meow much like the sounds heard by Earth’s mountain lions. It is possible to spook her into making one of these sounds or severely agitate her to the point where she purrs. Both are highly unrecommended for the safety and wellbeing of the offender.
  • Favorite food: kidneys and raw heart. She will not disclose of what animal.
  • HATES being touched without even being asked her permission. Hates how people just want to grab her tail, or pet her fur, or touch her ears. Has been known to bite the hand that does the touching on occasion.
  • The number of humans she has consumed is low….but not none.
  • Finds real cats actually quite disturbing and is not a fan.

Magic/Abilities

Telepath: All Kaleïko regardless of gender possess the ability to communicate telepathically. They, as a people, believe that verbal vocalizations are primal and beneath them. Those who resort to vocalizations over civilized communication are looked down upon with varying degrees of disgust and as inferior species. Communication predominantly is expressed via complex imagery and conceptualization over strings of sentences and words. Kaleïko feel only children resort to such basic communication.

Warrior: Incredibly unheard of and downright rare for female Kaleïkos, Defiant Wish is a consummate warrior and huntress. She learned all the skills of her male counterparts when it comes to the more primal tasks of the lesser gender. She is an excellent tracker, hunter, and fighter, capable of ambushing and taking down prey three times her size.

Healer: More common for those of her gender, Defiant Wish was educated in the ways of medicine. Her methods, while likely strange to humans, are well researched and documented among her people and the execution is at least somewhat applicable to these odd furless beings. She’s still getting the hang of it but, it turns out not everything is a 1:1 comparison. At last no one’s died because of her yet? Maybe?

Relationships

Disowned by family

History

Kicked off her home planet station, Defiant Wish doesn’t really like talking about her past much. When asked, she does her best to avoid answering much of anything but will become anxious and then agitated if questioning persists. Some secrets are better off left untold.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads


Complete Threads

Timeline

2
Teinar Characters / Arcadia
« on: March 06, 2022, 08:04:22 pm »
    TW: Slurs, Implied torture, abuse, and SA

    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Arcadia
    Alias Kady
    Age Unknown
    DOB Unknown
    Gender Agender
    Species Humanoid
    Ethnicity Unknown
    Height Prefers 5’9”-6’2”
    Occupation Tinkerer
    Residence Ghoul’s Hideout

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Their preferred form is that of a tall, slender androgynous figure with dark, reddish-brown skin and long, thick, nearly knee length, curly black hair. In this form they have no facial hair but a plethora of freckles that dot their nose and cheeks. Their eyes are a pale, pale green set in a wide, doe-eyed shape. Their nose is a little squashed and button shaped above full, pouty lips.

    Their chest is flat and limbs thin and frail looking. A strong breeze would seem enough to knock them over with how delicate they appear. Arcadia tends to wear what is available as far as clothes go in the wastes but would prefer neutral colored items and to wear layered items that remain easy to move in. Form-fitting clothing isn’t as much of an issue as keeping as much of themself covered as possible is.

    Beneath their clothes though regardless of form are countless scars. All viable veins for needle insertion have been mutilated and show the scars of excessive usage and placement to the point of thick scarring. Their back and chest are littered with various scars. Some areas are so scarred it is hard to tell the age of all of the overlapping healed wounds. The skin in this area such as over their heart and on their inner thighs is incredibly sensitive to touch. There is also a large, pebbled acid burn scar across their torso although it is fading as are burn marks on their legs.

    Additionally they also have a variety of tattoos in various states of fading. Crude, black handprints decorate their pecs, waist, the backs of their hips, just below the inside of their knees, the upper inside of their thighs, around their ankles, and finally on their shoulders by their neck as if someone was placing hands on their shoulders from behind them. They also have three, black arrow tattoos: one on their stomach pointing down to between their legs, one on their low back also pointing down towards their backside, and a final one between their pecs pointing up to their throat. This last one is nearly indiscernible now from the excessive scarring overtop of it. There is also text around the base of each of the arrows but it is now impossible to read from other scar layers. Their last tattoo runs the length of their spine in the largest possible blocky, black letters spelling out ‘SLAG.’

    Personality
    • Mouse: Arcadia is bashful and reserved. They tend to fade into the background of things easily and like to avoid large, boisterous gatherings. “Make no waves and they won’t one day drown you,” is their life philosophy. They ask for no more than what they need and never for what they want if it is something they can get by without.
    • Crow: They are a particularly intelligent, resourceful, and curious sort. Arcadia is uneducated but a quick learner and eager to experiment and try new things. They have a great love of puzzles and can easily get lost in thought spending hours trying to repair things or build new tools.
    • Hyena: Arcadia loves a good laugh. Once comfortable, they can be very playful. A good prank is always ruined by their telltale giggle fits. Their laughter is always good-natured and innocent though. While they do tend to encourage Red’s antics, being the brain behind his mischief, they do not condone cruel tricks and play. Arcadia does enjoy mimicking others though either in appearance or voice or seeing how long it takes them to notice them changing things about their person.
    • Dog: They are loyal to a fault if someone has earned it. Arcadia is eager to please and will go to the ends of the earth and bend over backwards to do something for someone if asked. Because of this their naivety has also gotten them into trouble. They do have boundaries however, and won’t do most things that would maliciously put them in harm’s way but they would be willing to sacrifice themself to help someone they cared about.

    Things
    • Is ALWAYS cold both in general and to the touch. Is a majestic burrito blanket roller.
    • Does not curse, ever….will go out of their way to try and find a word to replace the vulgarity of a foul, inappropriate word
    • Has a thing for counting things (especially steps)
    • Mildly germaphobic in odd ways that don’t always make sense for what will and won’t trigger it.
    • Does not like their hair being touched and can become quite hostile when this boundary is disrespected.
    • Really handy and resourceful with mechanical and technological repairs despite never learning.
    • Best damn marksman of the Ghouls regardless of distance or weather conditions.

    Magic/Abilities

    • Shapeshifter: Arcadia naturally has the capability of shapeshifting into any human or animal. While they prefer to remain in their own form, they will do whatever it takes to ensure their survival. They can mimic anyone they have met. The more time they’ve spent in someone’s presence and more they see of them, the more accurate the replication is.

      They can however shapeshift into an appearance of their own creation so long as they have an understanding of a realistic “template base” of the species. For example, they could appear as any randomly generated appearance of a human that they want because they understand what a human should look like. They could not however do the same for a species such as a Kulshedra without having ever encountered one and learned how they move and look.

      The process itself is not entirely too taxing on them although multiple shifts in a short period can be rather exhausting like running a marathon. One limitation though of their shapeshifting is that regardless of what species or form they hold, whether it be humanoid or animal, they will always have the markings on their body that have occurred to their natural body. For this reason they tend to avoid animal forms as there really isn’t much very natural about a dog with a fur pattern that spells out any of the tattoos on their back and chest.
    • Healing Absorption: A great number of their scars are a result of having been forced to absorb and take on the wounds of others. Arcadia possesses the ability to heal others flawlessly of their wounds by simply taking the wounds on as their own and suffering through the long, natural healing from those injuries.

      They are limited by the extent and number of injuries they can heal without it causing their own death. While they could heal someone’s mortal wound for instance, it would ultimately kill them instead. They also cannot undo death no matter how fresh the body is. It is also possible for them to overuse their ability by either healing too grievous a wound that is causing death to come too quickly, or too many wounds to the point that it kills them. Their body will not stop them from reaching the danger point either. Additionally, they can only heal current, living wounds. Old scars are not possible to heal or take on as their own.

      This way of healing becomes even more dangerous for them given that their ability is passive. They cannot stop themselves from healing another if someone comes within prolonged contact with their hair. Therefore if they pass out or are unable to remove themselves from contact with someone it could also be the death of them.
    • Accelerated Cell Regeneration: While Arcadia is incapable of healing themself immediately, they are able to do so over time. Once their wounds and ailments have closed they are able to accelerate the scar’s healing process into flawless skin. The more minor a scar, the faster it will return to normal. For this reason things such as windburn, sunburn, even mild radiation sickness or malnutrition do not affect them the way it does others. They appear and are healthier than even the people they live with. Deeper and more traumatic scars however take much longer to return to normal. The same can be said for tattoos as they are several layers deep and need time to work their way out. Their body is in a constant state of healing these days though as it attempts to recover from a turbulent history of damage.
    • Planet Creation: Their strongest and most dangerous ability is that they are quite literally a DIY home planet starter kit inside a humanoid form. Arcadia can create or heal an entire planet, at the cost of their own life. They know that they are capable of this ability and have an instinctual sense on how to do it but for obvious reasons have never tried. Their ability has been researched heavily and yet still very little is known about it beyond that it is possible. Some have speculated that to do so would cost more than their own life but could destroy a planet in order to remake it. Others have speculated that the healing process would heal all on the planet as well as the land itself, or even create new life or undo mass extinction.

      Needless to say however, any current nation would be more than thrilled at the opportunity to get their hands on this ability and use it to their own gain, whether it be to revitalize Aedolis, expand Edanith’s terraforming to an entirely new level, or provide a paradisal planet for Libra.


    Relationships

    Family: Status unknown.

    Red: Former leader of the Ghouls, now second in command and husband to Boss. He discovered and saved them from another raider gang, providing them with a home and safety they never knew before while asking for nothing but loyalty in return. Arcadia has thrown their all into trying to repay that favor even though it has never been asked of them. They regard him like a crazy, protective, older brother, a role he enjoys and takes seriously. Red is aware of some of what they are capable of and recognizes it as enough to be kept hidden and secret. He is fiercely protective of them for this reason.

    Boss: Leader of the Ghouls and husband of Red. He is aware of some of what Arcadia is capable of and shares with his husband the protective nature towards them. He has always been firm regarding their body and their choice even if it would mean choosing between his crew members because of their choice. They are far more shy around Boss however and prefer to speak as little as possible near him out of respect. They also used to be terrified of his two dogs and has slowly warmed up over time to the massive mutts.

    The Ghouls: Their new found family.

    Ravage: She-devil spawn that would do the universe a favor by having the good grace to drop dead posthaste.

    Iro: First person to make them feel….funny


    History


    By fluke or miracle or the watchful hand of an unknown force, Arcadia managed to wake up and find themselves alone and broken, crash-landed on a planet who knows where after their last memory being of them being sedated before transport to an undisclosed location. This moment of fortune would be the last good thing to happen for them in quite a long time to come, for their rescuers could hardly ever be called that.

    A raider party made short work of eliminating the other crew before scavenging the wreck for parts. Ultimately they found Arcadia half-dead among the wreckage and decided they were pretty enough that if they lived they’d be plenty useful in…many ways.

    When it was found that they were essentially a living battery for healing, their fate was sealed. Too bad for the group of raiders though that they were not smart enough to keep their filthy mouths shut. They crowed to anyone that would listen about their goldmine they had found and were soon easily overrun. The entirety of them were slaughtered for the little prize they possessed.

    The second raider group was no better than the first but didn’t hold them for long. They used Arcadia to their advantage and sold them off to the highest bidder for much needed supplies and resources. Human life means little when palettes full of fresh water are on the line. Plenty would sell their own family members for the like let alone a stranger with the ability to heal. What good are stitched wounds if you’re dead of dehydration after all?

    The third raider group was by far the worst though. Arcadia was kept chained up and hidden. Their only interactions were to be used and abused. They prayed for death even as their body fought to heal from slow-knitting wounds. They didn’t even fight back, just accepted their fate in silence, so numb to the world around them that they did not even realize battle was being waged outside their locked room’s door until it was over.

    Their door opened, light bleeding into the room as a tall figure stood their peering in at them, his silhouette tinged in red. Chains were broken, and their body carried off to yet another base. There Red, their newest captor and rescuer nurtured Arcadia, earning their trust over time. Arcadia was shown their first moments of kindness and gentleness.

    Leadership changed but Red kept his promise to them and kept them well protected. The secret of their healing gift is a well-guarded one among Red and Boss, the leaders of the Ghouls. They are never forced to use their gift against their will and have become a useful, contributing member same as the rest. There is no need that is left unmet, and is nothing they would ever dare ask for. They are happy…however long that may last, unknown.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline
    [/list]

    3
    Aedolis Characters / NELS-857b
    « on: March 04, 2022, 06:02:28 pm »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name [CLASSIFIED] NELS-857b [/CLASSIFIED]
    Alias [CLASSIFIED] KD [/CLASSIFIED]
    Age ADULT
    DOB UNKNOWN
    Gender INDETERMINATE
    Species [REDACTED]
    Ethnicity INDETERMINATE
    Height INDETERMINATE
    Occupation Subject TERMINATED
    Residence TRIM Facilities TERMINATED

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description
    INDETERMINATE


    Personality
    • Docile
    • Mild-Mannered
    • Uncannily High Aptitude
    • Highly Resourceful
    • Provokable Only When {REDACTED} NELS-857a
    • {REDACTED}

    Things
    • {REDACTED}
    • {REDACTED}
    • {REDACTED}
    • {REDACTED}
    • {REDACTED}

    Magic/Abilities
    Classification: LETHAL [REDACTED]


    Relationships
    Head Researcher: Dr. Drake Ozawa


    History
    Experiment-NELS-857b-1-A [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-1-B [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-1-C [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-2 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-3-A [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-3-B [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-4 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-5 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-6 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-A [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-B [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-C [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-D [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-E [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-7-F [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-A-i [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-A-ii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-A-iii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-B [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-C-i [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-C-ii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-D [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-E-i [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-E-ii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-E-iii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-E-iv [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-8-E-v [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-9 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-10 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-11 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-12 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-13 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-14 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-15 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-16 [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-i [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-ii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-iii [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-iv [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-v [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-vi [REDACTED]
    Experiment-NELS-857b-17-A-vii [REDACTED]
    Export-NELS-857b-1 on [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]
    Transport-NELS-857b-1 on [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]
    Incident-NELS-857b-1 [REDACTED]
    Termination-NELS-857b-1 on [REDACTED]



    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline


    4
    Aedolis Characters / Rika Zumei
    « on: December 09, 2020, 12:34:16 am »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Rika Zumei
    Alias CapnSmiley
    Age 31
    DOB October 11th
    Gender Female
    Species Anathanti/Human
    Ethnicity Rulastinian
    Height 5’4”
    Occupation Military Physical Therapist
    Residence Haviah, Aedolis

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Rika has long, thick, straight, waist-length, black hair that she usually keeps in a high ponytail or a messy bun. Her appearance is an unblemished, smooth, cool olive skin tone with warm, dark brown, almond-shaped eyes and full lips always in a wide grin. She has a short, boyish frame with a heart-shaped face, a flatter nose, and ever so slightly pointed ears.

    Her usual attire consists of comfortable exercise outfits, a pair of earbuds, and her trusted wheel-heeled sneakers. She prefers natural makeup with a little bit of gloss to heavy or bright colours. Rika’s clothing colour schemes tend to range from neutrals to bright but not obnoxious pastels. Robin’s egg blues and lavenders seem to heavily feature within her wardrobe.

    Personality

    Rika is an optimistic person without being full of toxic positivity. She is confident and independent, happy with herself and where she is in life and isn’t going to let someone else’s sourness bring her down. While perky, friendly, and always eager to help, Rika also values her peace and alone time.

    Growing up in her tight-knit family, family has always been an important thing to her and she would one day love to be a mom but until then she’s more than happy to keep on climbing to wherever her wheels take her. She does get lonely being on her own away from home, but does her best to not let it get to her too much and take what opportunities she can to do fun things or hang out with friends.

    Things
    • Wears wheel-heeled sneakers and likes to always roll around in them.
    • Avid hairbrush singer and spontaneous dancer
    • Highly superstitious and is only justified in the fact that whenever she breaks one of her rules something bad does indeed happen
    • Does not under any circumstances wear anything red and has an unconscious habit of covering things that are coloured red.
    • Loves exercise like going for runs, rock-climbing, or yoga but also enjoys curling up with a sappy movie, junkfood, and a facemask.

    Magic/Abilities

    ~Does unwavering optimism in the face of surely nay-sayers count?
    ~Trained Military Soldier and Medcorp Certified

    Relationships

    Family: Rika was raised by her single father along with her 3 older sisters. She is the baby of the family and was raised in a very loving and warm yet regimented home. Her family is close and she talks with them nearly daily and has regular video chats with them every month.

    Koro: A very loved (and spoiled) fluffy, white samoyed that is Rika’s pride and joy. He’s groomed daily and taken on all of Rika’s daily runs. He’s also been therapy trained and so sometimes makes appearances at her job (when he isn’t busy sleeping of course). He’s a big love and very protective of his human but warms up quickly to others and is very obedient.

    History

    Rika was born into a warm and loving military household. Her father had always wanted to be a parent but never found a partner to settle down with while busy advancing his military career. He saved up enough to get a surrogate and not long after he had his firstborn. The twins came two years later. Three toddlers were a bit much so it would be another ten years before Rika, the last of the brood came into their lives to complete the family.

    Rika and her sisters were trained to be confident young women who were in charge of their own bodies and destinies, but to also embrace their passions and interests. As the baby of the family Rika was always doted on by the whole family. The boys at school certainly learned quickly to not pull her pigtails unless they wanted her big sisters to show up.

    Like their father before them all the girls ended up in different sectors of the military with Little Rika even making it into DoSaM where she proudly serves her country getting the country’s finest back on their feet again.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    5
    Aedolis Characters / Mato Tu
    « on: May 20, 2020, 06:09:28 pm »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Mato Tu
    Alias 4K_PSI, DO NOT call her Tomato
    Age 24
    DOB April 4th
    Gender Female
    Species Human
    Ethnicity Adelan
    Height 5’6”
    Occupation Military, works closely with Seekers
    Residence Ryun, Aedolis

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Mato is a stocky, compact woman for her short stature who makes up for it with 10,000 pounds of attitude. She has light brown skin, dark brown almost black eyes and long, straight black hair that reaches to midthigh and is traditionally kept up in a high ponytail. Sharp cheekbones are accented by six halfmoon shaped scars on each cheek with the lines closer to her eyes being the most faded and the ones at the bottom of her jaw being the freshest while still being a few years old.

    Her expression is usually that of some form of contempt, disgust, or disinterest only made more severe by the deep scars that bisect her face from above her right eyebrow, over her nose, and deep into her left cheek. The inside of both her forearms by the elbow crease are also marked up with intersecting thin, raised scars of varying ages from repeated cutting. Some are even still fresh cuts. The only other significant scar she has is a four inch horizontal scar a few inches below her belly button that is quite old and healed quite pale. All of her teeth have also been sharpened into points giving her a very sharklike grin.

    Mato has several piercings. These include standard earlobes, a sharkbite set on her lower lip, and a pair of hoops in her left brow. She also wears a leather cord necklace with a shark tooth around her neck. As for tattoos, she has an inch wide pastel purple ribbon tattoo around her throat that ties off into a pretty bow with long tails in the back. The tails reach to midback. She wants to get sleeves down but hasn’t found a design she likes yet. Outside of her uniform, Mato still prefers combat boots, dark jeans and tops with a black, high-collared, leather jacket.

    Personality

    She is a very tough, take no shit, independent type woman. Mato is rough around the edges and not about to let anyone stand in her way or tell her no. She’s a fierce soldier who has gotten into trouble more than once for getting combative or too aggressive but for the most part has managed to earn herself enough respect to make her way up through the ranks. She will always speak her mind and doesn’t back down from a challenge easily.

    Mato is not impressed by material wealth and instead places her focus on strength and honor. Much of her time is spent on trying to be better than she is to make her family proud and provide for them. She has little interest in the puppy eyes of “children” and has sent many a suitor running with their tail between their legs. She does not smile often but when a toothy grin does appear, do not be fooled for it is usually a threat that if not heeded will soon be acted upon.

    With regards to her family she is protective and private to the point of not even discussing them with her coworkers. Plenty are unaware she even has a son let alone his name or age. She prefers to keep her private life private and her work life where it belongs, at work.

    Things
    • Owns a pair of brass knuckles and very much knows how to use them.
    • First generation military and proud of it, but salty over not being a telepath so can’t be a Pilot.
    • Lives with three grandparents, two parents, and young son.
    • Loves to surf and has been doing it her entire life.
    • Gives names to inanimate objects.
    • Has an ongoing war with technology where things malfunction and then they are brutally sacrificed.

    Magic/Abilities

    Hemokinetic: Mato is able to manipulate the blood in her body and others’s to achieve different endgoals.
    • Blood Clotting: Mato can cause her own open wounds to clot quickly so that she does not bleed out. She has far more trouble performing this trick on others though.
    • Neurocognitive Deficit: She can reverse the flow of blood to cause unconsciousness. She is limited in the number of people she can do this to at one time and she runs the risk of also causing herself to pass out if she isn’t careful.
    • Paralysis Inducement: By stopping a target's blood in their veins, Mato can cause the victim to become paralysed. Holding it for too long can cause the individual to die.
    • Paralysis Inducement: By stopping a target's blood in their veins, Mato can cause the victim to become paralysed. Holding it for too long can cause the individual to die.
    • Bloodflow Enhancement: By increasing her rate of bloodflow, Mato can choose to do ONE of the following for herself for a limited amount of time: enhanced speed, enhanced stamina, enhanced endurance, or enhanced regeneration. The use of this ability can also be quite fatal if she does not check herself as she can quite literally tear her muscles clean off the bone by pushing her body to impossible limits with the enhancement. Enhanced regeneration is the most deadly and risky however as to use it means her entire body has to shut down to bare minimum function in order to divert all her energy to healing. It is not an efficient process nor one she is ever keen on using. She cannot be using any other ability while also using this one.
    • Hemo-Precognition: An ability that bears great cultural significance for Mato. She possesses the ability via blood-letting to catch shifting visions of the future. It is easy to become lost in these visions and to bleed herself dry if she is not careful. It is however, a ritual she partakes in regularly though not excessively as part of her own religious practices.

    Martial Artist: Mato is also trained extensively in a very brutal form of martial arts which has kept her safe and protected despite her small size.


    Relationships

    Family: Mato has a close bond with her family and everything she does is in support of them. Thanks to her working in the military they have been able to move into a better home but, all her life Mato has lived with her two maternal grandmothers, paternal grandmother and grandfather, her mother and father. Her paternal grandmother has since passed away, having not lived long enough to meet her great-grandson, Isi. Isi is Mato’s pride and joy as he continues to grow into a little soldier all of his own. He’s just turned ten. Mato has no siblings.

    History

    Mato grew up a pretty normal life surrounded by family and nothing life-altering. Her family are followers of some old Adelan traditions accounting for some of her scars and teeth which they also share. But, the choice to follow in their footsteps was her own.

    Her biggest grievance growing up was that she was not a telepath. For, while from an early age she showed an aptitude for blood manipulation, without the ability to communicate via her mind, she would never become a Pilot, her greatest dream. Mato would spend hours daily trying with all her might to will herself into hearing others’s thoughts or sending her own but to no avail.

    This point in her history has led her to be rather bitter about people who DO get to become Pilots as she will never have the honor of being a “7 gill” and earning her final pair of cheek scars. She is recognised as a fierce warrior in her community all the same and high ranking in accordance to the old traditions.

    Currently she lives with her family in a nice home in Ryun by the water. Her parents and grandparents care for her son Isi while she works. His father is not part of the picture, nor is he someone that Mato ever talks about.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    6
    The Studio / Commissionable Artists Directory
    « on: September 14, 2019, 09:08:08 am »
    COMMISSIONABLE ARTISTS DIRECTORY

    Come support your fellow SotE artists! Here you can either list yourself as an artist looking to do commissions or check out our creators and send them a message about making art for you!

    ARTISTS:
    Feel free to use this thread to advertise yourself and your artistic talents! Just fill out the small form and reply to this thread! You may fill in as little or as much as you want. These are just the suggested questions. It IS recommended though that you include a link to a separate thread with in-depth details and/or examples as you so desire.

    PLEASE KEEP IN MIND TO FOLLOW SOTE RULES FOR MARKING MATURE TOPICS. ANY NSFW LINKS SHOULD BE LABELED ACCORDINGLY.

    BUYERS:
    If you're hunting for some sweet character art, then look no further! Check out the artists below and feel free to contact that privately for more details.

    PLEASE DO NOT REPLY AND ASK FOR COMMISSIONS HERE. SUCH POSTS WILL BE DELETED. THIS IS FOR LISTING COMMISSIONABLE ARTISTS ONLY.

    Code: [Select]
    [list][*][url=http://URL LINK]Examples, Further Details, and Terms of Service[/url]
    [*][b]Artist:[/b] Artist Username
    [*][b]Open or Closed for Commissions:[/b] If you're closed you can always list when you might next be open!
    [*][b]Number of Available Commission Slots:[/b] It can be as few as one or as infinite as you like, that is ENTIRELY up to you!
    [*][b]Typical Turnaround Time:[/b] How long does it take you to make art? When can a buyer expect their art after payment?
    [*][b]Preferred Payment Method:[/b] Rocks, Paypal, Trade, etc.
    [*][b]Prices:[/b] Do you have different prices for different things? That's fine too!
    [*][b]Artist Do's:[/b] Briefly list the kinds of art you DO draw such as headshots, colour, black and white, full-body references etc.
    [*][b]Artist Do not's:[/b] Briefly list the kind of art you WON'T draw such as nudity, gore, etc[/list]

    7
    Aedolis Characters / Bobby-Mae Clark; Pilot Echo
    « on: July 20, 2019, 09:41:59 am »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Bobby-Mae Clark
    Alias Bobby, πrate
    Age 30
    DOB February 2nd
    Gender Female
    Species Human
    Ethnicity Aedolian
    Height 5’6”
    Occupation Pilot Echo, Ministry of Agriculture, Animal Husbandry Data Analyst
    Residence The Citadel, Haviah

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Bobby is of an average height with a plump, pear-shaped figure. She’s got some pudge on her and she’s woman enough to accept and embrace it. Her straight, strawberry-blonde hair is kept in a chin-length bob. Her hazel eyes are also framed by thick, square, black-rimmed glasses that takes up the majority of her pale, oval-shaped face. When she smiles she has big dimples.

    When not in uniform, Bobby enjoys wearing cute blouses and skirts with flats. She prefers solid, neutral colours to patterns. Her jewellery is usually a simple necklace, a pair of stud earrings, and a small analog watch with a thing black leather wristband. She also likes wearing scarves regardless of the season or weather.

    Personality

    • Awkward. Bobby isn’t exactly the suavest of women in the social circles. She has a tendency to miss social cues sometimes and be entirely too blunt or too graphically informative.
    • Endearing. But what she lacks in social awareness she makes up for in acts of generosity and earnestness.
    • Nerdy. She is the ultimate geek. Careful what conversation you strike up with her because once she starts, there’s no off switch. She’s really smart and it’s not just those dorky glasses that make her so. She eats, breathes, and sleeps numbers and puzzles.
    • Spontaneous. Bobby has a tendency to really surprise people. At first glance she seems like the ultimate homebody and yet to talk to her you’d hear stories about her going rock climbing in Travica or deep-sea diving with Ryun’s champion dive team or even ghost hunting in Amristah all by “sheer coincidence” as she tells it. She lets the impulse drive her and always has a story to tell once she comes back.

    Things
    • LOVES gory slasher movies. The more hamburger, the better.
    • Is an encyclopedia for random macabre facts. Want to know how much blood is in the human body and how long it takes to bleed out? Want to know which flora and fauna poisons are the most deadliest and in what order? Ask Bobby. She’d be glad to tell you.
    • Makes the best fruit crumble in the office and even won prizes for it in her youth. The secret? She’s not telling but please have another slice.
    • Does math problems for fun in her downtime.
    • Has a tendency to chew on the end of her pens and pencils.
    • Is an impulsive shopper and adventurer. It’s not unusual that Monday watercooler talk with Bobby always has a bit of random weekend chaos. Have you ever been to an underground Solartan robot battle? They’re a blast! It’s almost too fantastic to believe….but I guess that’s why pictures exist.

    Magic/Abilities

    Telepath: She is an average to weak telepath. She is far better at shielding than she is projecting or picking up what others are letting off.

    Psychometry: Bobby has a VERY strong and special brand of psychometry that has to do with numerical precision. While she cannot effect the probabilities of things or fabricate numbers she can intuitively instead of operationally process large amounts of data practically effortlessly and in some cases, instantly. Everything in life is a mathematical problem to her that can be solved. Hypothetically, this would make her a brilliant tactician were it not for her lack of expertise and success in the field and the fact that she has to be physcially present to come up with an answer. Her gift does not work very well remotely via images or other people’s perceptions.

    Examples of what she is capable of can be found on Superpower Wiki

    Relationships

    Grimshaw: Bobby’s rather lazy and hyper-cautious dragon. Grimshaw has a fondness for his little Pilot and so fought hard to keep her out of the field and has placed at the most boring of boring desk jobs. He would rather see her safe and secure than climbing the career ladder, especially with her unique gift.

    History

    Bobby’s parents died in a fire when she was eight and she was placed in an orphanage where she grew up with a few bumps and bruises but relatively well. It wasn’t the worst experience in the world for her and she didn’t come out tragically scarred by it. She even is still in contact with some of her fellow orphan friends.

    A late bloomer in all things in life, she didn’t start showing strong signs of being a psychic until a routine physical right before her twentieth birthday revealed that she was latently gifted. She was immediately drafted into candidacy where she struggled both socially and physically. It was thanks to the help of a few of her fellow candidates that she even made it through. Stage 1 was the hardest for her but she survived and graduated in five and a half years. She now works for the Ministry of Agriculture tracking offspring yields and she couldn’t be happier. Bobby absolutely LOVES her job.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    8
    Aedolis Characters / Pilot Royal Donata Aeris Barnaba da Ryun
    « on: July 08, 2019, 05:07:35 pm »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Pilot Royal Donata Aeris Barnaba da Ryun
    Alias Donna, Donato, Rosebud
    Age 107
    DOB January 7th
    Gender Female
    Species Ashman, Copperblooded
    Ethnicity Aedolian
    Height 5’2”
    Occupation General of Travica
    Residence Travica
    Voiceclaim Shea Diamond

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description
    Age of Stone:
    Donna was forged as her father’s pride and joy, his greatest achievement and accomplishment in life. She has a long, thick, wavy mane of bright red hair that while working she keeps in a tight contained bun but outside of work allows to be free and loose with intricate beads, braids, and barrettes. Unlike her people though, Donna does not keep a beard.

    As she is an ashman, she has pale, grey skin and bright copper eyes. She also has the traditional copper inlay pattern. Her particular one forms a “necklace” around her neck with an open diamond-shaped “pendant” atop her sternum and a smaller open triangle at her back.

    While average height for her people but rather short all around for Aedolis, Donna is built like a tank. She has a broad, heavily muscled chest and abs as well as strong shoulders and a bulging bicep. She takes great pride in her appearance and works hard to maintain the beauty and strength of her father’s creation.

    Age of Machine:
    Over a century old and a heavily decorated soldier means that Donna has gotten into her fair share of battles, scraps, and wars. As such she is a heavily decorated soldier and has had quite a few physical modifications to replace lost limbs.

    She is missing her right arm just below the elbow, her left leg up to the hip, her left arm to the ball socket of the shoulder, and the lower, left side of her jawbone. All of these limbs and bones have been replaced with metal limbs and plating done in rose gold filigree. Her jaw is edged with and backed with synthetic tissue to form the appearance of a cheek below the plating. Her teeth on the lower left side have all been replaced with titanium teeth in the absence of the original jawbone as have a few of the teeth on the upper left side, specifically the molars. Donna is a bit self-conscious of her teeth so toothy grins tend to be rather small or only one side to hide the flashes of silver.

    In addition to her missing limbs, Donna is also missing her left eye. The eye socket has scarred into copper stone and the eye itself has been replaced with a deep magenta, rutilated spinel. It is solely for aesthetic appeal however as Donna lacks the ability to see through it.

    Age of Donna:
    Her style of dress outside of her uniform tends to range from business professional to classy formal to modest casual. She likes clothing that is both feminine and complementary to her form. She is not shy about showing off her prosthetics or skin but she is a believer that less is more and some things should be kept private. Rose gold is her favourite colour for accents while professional and eveningwear tend to be deep, royal hues, casual daywear is usually brighter and more cheery. Her earlobes are pierced and she does tend to wear jewellery as well as makeup. She more prefers bracelets and earrings to other pieces. Also in favour of showing off her inlay she prefers to wear blouses with more open or plunging necklines and skip necklaces altogether to showcase her natural necklace instead.

    Personality

    • At work she is a soldier first and foremost. Donna values loyalty, accountability, punctuality, and organisation. She expects her soldiers’ best out of them and understands everyone has different limits but is also a perfectionist herself and holds her people to a very high standard. But she trusts them to be at the same caliber as her in their own rights. She fiercely protects her own as long as they have earned it. Lose her trust or go after her own and you will have the fiercest mama bear ever on your hands.
    • Outside of work she is able to easily flip the switch from General to Donna. Outside of government affairs she’s bawdy, raunchy, and quick to laugh, with a tough but fair maternal instinct. She’s stubborn to a fault but fair. Donna’s quick to joke but even quicker to apologise for offense. She knows when to be polite and is not above admitting her faults and trying to overcome them. She expects the same of others and can become frustrated when they fail to follow through.
    • Family is incredibly important to Donna. She would do anything for their love and approval. Anything that is but forsake who she is. She is unapologetic for her gender and her sexuality. And while she is reserved and polite with her family and their disapproval she refuses to bend on these matters. She’s applied so many times for the rights to ash of her own to make a child and has continued to be denied every time on the basis of her gender. Her stubbornness demands she continue though until either they break or she turns completely to stone. She feels she has every right to family as anyone else and longs for one of her own.
    • That being said, Donna is also deeply romantic. She wants a partner and wants to woo and court a lady properly. However as confident and flirty as she can be to everyone, the moment her heart becomes involved she becomes an awkward and flustered mess. Donna wants to love and be loved in return but getting there has proven to be a rather tumultuous road up until now.

    Things
    • Loves to sing in the shower. Has forgotten is not alone in the work showers and belted out into song more times than she would care to admit.
    • Is a very talented cook and considers it an insult to reject her food without trying it. Considers it the greatest insult however, to season her food without trying it.
    • She does needlepoint and cross stitch in her spare time and takes great pride in the delicate and intricate nature of her art. She has several large pieces framed in her home that took her months to complete.
    • Has a room in her home just dedicated to various arts and crafts. Sadly there are many things she’s always had the best intentions of starting and never seems to find the time for. “One day, soon” she’ll get to it though, or so she says.
    • Favourite colour is pale peach or rose gold.

    Magic/Abilities

    Telepath: She has an average range and ability as a telepath.

    Pyrokinetic: Donna is a firebaby and revels in the control of her ability. Over the years she’s been able to master several different techniques and abilities beyond basic control and manipulation of fire.

    • Fire Aura: This ability allows her to envelope herself in flames as both a shield and an offensive barrier. Donna is both fire and heat tolerant to higher temperatures than are normal. She can however be burned if her flames become too hot or she endures them for too long. The colour and therefore the intensity of her flames are strictly dependent on her emotions. The more deeply or passionately she feels something, the more dangerous she becomes.
    • Fire Breath: Donna is akin to a dragon in ashman form. She can breathe fire and takes great pride in this ability. The blaze is quite intense and has decent range however it can not be sustained indefinitely as it is physically taxing on her. Overuse or prolonged use renders her with a very sore throat that if pushed too far could burn her up from the inside out.
    • Fire Combustion: The most dangerous use of Donna’s abilities is absorbing all of the oxygen in her vicinity to create a massive explosion. She is not immune to this power and while she can resist some of the damage and survive, some of her injuries are a direct result of having used this ability and getting burnt. If she’s using this then it’s a last resort and she’ll go down taking everything with her along the way.
    • Fire Mimicry: With this ability, Donna is able to become a being made entirely of flames. It does make her more vulnerable to cryokinetic attacks however it also increases her speed, durability, and strength. When her flames run out though she’s done and faces a cooldown period where she cannot easily use any of her pyrokinetic abilities. While this  was one of her most used abilities on the battlefield it takes extreme pacing and strategy to utilise it to its full capacity.

    Typhokinetic: This is Donna’s weakest ability which allows her to manipulate smoke. She can use it as a cover screen, to asphyxiate someone, or as a form of communication. She cannot generate smoke like she can fire though so she requires a source in order to manipulate it. This is only problematic when she is unable to use her pyrokinesis such as in cases of stealth or close quarters.

    Relationships

    Barnaba Aeris Renatus da Ryun: Her father who up until her coming out was always incredibly proud and supportive of her. Recently he has been yo-yoing between being incredibly aggressive and vocal about her “throwing her life away” and being cruelly cold and silent. He is deeply disappointed in this madness she is displaying and while loves her deeply would see her return to being an honorable man once more. He refuses to use her correct pronouns or name. And he finds her attraction to women to be absolutely abhorrent given that that also means sleeping with people outside of his race. She finds interacting with him very difficult and still tries her best to be polite and calm in the face of his harsh words. She understands why this is difficult for him but refuses to go back to living a lie and not being her true self.
    Renatus Aeris Giampiero da Ryun: Her Nonno who has not spoken a word to her since her social transition as a woman. He lives with her father and is getting slower and stiffer in old age. He will attend the few yearly family dinners they all have but spends the evenings completely ignoring her presence and will not even speak on such occasions.
    Romano Laetus Pecorino da Samariel: Barnaba’s long-term boyfriend of over a century. He’s been a part of Donna’s life since her creation and she grew up viewing him as a second father. She has unfortunately not seen him since coming out as transgender as her father has banned him from ever interacting with her if he wants to continue to have a relationship with Barnaba until Donna decides to come to her senses. It’s heartbreaking for Donna though who has always had a close relationship with Romano and loves him quite deeply as family.
    Aurora: Her shiny, metallic red male dragon who is known to be fiery, hot-headed and quick to action. Aurora pushes Donna as hard as her father once did to succeed and be the very best. He has his eye on her being the next Imperial.

    History

    Raised in a loving but strict household, Donna was taught loyalty and strength from an early age. She was her father’s greatest pride and joy and he took great pleasure in showing off her victories. He didn’t let it go to her head though and was always firm in grounding her with tough love.

    Her pyrokinesis developed also at an early age and as soon as she was physically old enough, she was sent off to candidacy. The transition took some getting used to but her strict military upbringing was beneficial in preparing her for the regimen of aspiring Pilot life. She was eventually paired with Aurora and made a general combat operative sent off on various missions over the years. Donna rose through the ranks proving herself time and time again to be a valuable and loyal soldier of Aedolis much to her father’s delight.

    The rift in their relationship would come after many failed attempts at relationships on her part both of her own and her father’s arranging was when she finally owned up and admitted who she is. Having reached the peak of her career, Donna felt she could be true to herself. She changed her name to Donata and began socially transitioning and presenting as female within the past five years. The final blow of her madness to him however was when she also came out as gay which ironically in a society of predominatly homosexual individuals, did not go over well. Donna remains true to herself even as she continues to face cultural and familial obstacles.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    9
    The midnight rail to Solarta was unsurprisingly quiet and relatively empty for a Monday night. It left Blu with plenty of time to sit and face her inner demons without interruption or reprieve. No one knew she was going home either. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Amristah Inquiry were aware of her intended two-day excursion home and more than likely had already informed Solarta Inquiry of her coming. It was just another stipulation of her punishment and another impingement upon her former freedoms. It was her own fault though and she willingly paid the price.

    The Valkyries didn’t know of her coming though and she had every intention of keeping it that way. She’d hurt Yavul enough with her secrecy. He didn’t need her in his life now like nothing had happened and they were still the best of friends. And sweet, precious Mia, who welcomed her eagerly and could find no fault with Blu was not what Blu needed right then. She couldn’t even say for certain what it was that she needed these days, but she hoped she could find a taste of it in home.

    Home.

    The irony did not escape her that after nearly two decades of denying and ridiculing every part of her that had to do with being a greyneck Solartan, she would run home when her world fell out and she’d hit rock bottom. When the going got tough and she no longer recognised who she was anymore, she’d run just like she always did. It was about time she returned here though. It was time to face those poor, starved, withered roots of her past to maybe find that spark that once burned oh so brightly long ago.

    Blu chewed on her bottom lip, pulling at the dried skin there with her teeth and feeling it tear until copper bloomed bitterly on her tongue. Sam was inquiry; did he know she was coming? Did her name fill him with hatred and disgust as strong and potent as his name filled her with grief and guilt? Did he even care?

    She still remembered the look on his face as his heart hit the floor. Had she even known then how in over her head she was? Probably. She likely was just content to fester and ignore it until it finally popped like any other vile abscess. The shock of his emotions as he had commanded her to do the right thing had nearly brought her to her knees though. Even just in reminiscence, Blu still felt it as forcefully now as she had when he had been standing just out of reach of her.

    She needed to stop thinking about him. She needed to let him go. He’d never been hers to hold anyway. She needed to let go.

    Blu shook her head sharply and ruffled her hair in agitation. The rail pulled into the station and she disembarked in long, sweeping strides. Her head was low, her hood pulled up high to hide her recognisable features. The prodigal daughter was returning home.

    She didn’t even know what to expect when she did finally roll up to her old homestead. She felt so out of place here now with her expensive leather backpack and her boots all polished and shined without a trace of mud.

    The house was dark but she could hear the television from the front step and already imagined her father passed out in front of it surrounded by a wasteland of empty beer cans. Her mother likely had already taken herself to bed in a fog of cigarette smoke and bitterness. For several minutes Blu just stood there poised to take the first step but unable to move herself.

    It wasn’t that long ago that she had visited home, but she had never taken the chance to actually take it in. Petite,Gods Both bless her little soul, had just been born and lost sending Blu scurrying home in a flurry to Yavul and her maman. It was different then though. She hadn’t lingered, hadn’t tried to take it in, hadn’t tried to acknowledge what being home meant, hadn’t wanted to face that this was where everything began for her.

    She did now.

    Heavy boots hopped up the old, sagging steps, avoiding that one board that creaked and that other one that always bowed like it was ready to give way at any second. The lock still responded to her chip, letting her in without trouble as Blu exhaled in tense relief. After all these years she didn’t know what to expect anymore. But, sure enough Shinoba Moon was snoring away in his chair, same as always. Some things never did change.

    She crept by the living room taking the stairs two at a time before tiptoeing down the carpeted hallway. It was too dark to see and yet she still knew each step to her old room by heart. Slipping inside and closing the door behind her revealed a nearly untouched time capsule of her life at fourteen. Gin Moon had left her daughter’s possessions exactly as Blu had left them. The bed quilt, tattered and worn, was still as soft with age as she remembered it. Her hand smoothed over the faded fabric as she quietly dumped her bag onto the bed and took stock of the room.

    Georgia Jacks posters and The Fuzz tour announcements still littered her walls, the glossy paper crinkling and curling at the corners where she had smoothed them back against the wall a thousand times over. They clashed with the rustic ladylikeness of her white vanity where hair brushes and bottles of perfume were all carefully lined up just so. She remembered loving those funky-shaped bottles that cost far more than her father was ever willing to pay. Blu had watered those few precious perfumes down as much as she possibly could to make them last as long as possible until there was nothing but water in them and the memory of the scent they once held.

    There were the pictures in their fancy frames showing stills of her young life too. Some of the pictures she recognised from her own home today. There were the twins swinging her tiny body between them. That one there was of the time they all got to mud-wrestling and came home caked in so much muck that Maman had refused to let them in the house.

    But, there were others too that she didn’t have. She traced her fingers gently over the shape of a young Gin holding her newborn daughter in a rocking chair. Next to it was one of tiny Yavul smiling broadly, his front teeth missing as Blu did a cartwheel behind him.

    Had it really been that long since she was that small, since she was looking as happy as she did in the photo of her winning first prize in the junior little ladies dirt-biking? She’d wiped out bad on one of those turns, she remembered. Maman made her stop not long after when she’d broken both her arms in a jump gone wrong. Blu was certain she hadn’t been back on a bike since then.

    Her old boots caked in mud still stood in the closet beneath a familiar, robust clothing bag. She didn’t need to unzip it to see the layers upon layers of pure white tulle and lace to know that was her wedding dress.

    Ain’t quite so pretty n’ pure no more are ya Blu girl?

    She turned from the closet and after a moment’s pause, knelt down to reach under the bed. Her hand collided with the dusty edge of a box that she gleefully dragged out. Here were the treasures of her youth. One by one she reverently plucked them out of the box and examined them before placing them on the bedspread. Two sparkly butterfly clips with fake crystals that were “blue to match your eyes” as her brothers had said when they had slipped them into her long braid on her tenth birthday. One of them was missing an antenna now and the other had had lost a few of its crystals. There had once been a time when she wore those clips every single day until they had become too special to not keep in a box.

    A handful of rocks all with veins of fool’s gold in them were next. Blu remembered digging them up with Yavul out by the animal troughs. They must have been six or seven at the time and had spent the day screaming about being cool and famous just like Georgia Jacks. The pair of them would defeat the bad guys, get their respective man, and ride off into the sunset like the miniature badasses they thought they were. Those were the days, weren’t they?

    Buried further down were the several times folded over and over love notes between her and Coy. For a moment she reflected fondly on those days of sneaking trinkets and notes to each other under rocks and in secret hidey holes for each other to find. It had been a child’s romance. It should have stayed that way. That was likely her fault too. She never was one for realising until far too late just how in over her head she was. Was there ever a time when she didn’t tear everyone down with her as she swept by on a path of self-destruction?

    Coy may have been the “monster” who had tried to cage her but she was the liar, the cheater, and the thief. Blu couldn’t blame him for everything when she was the one spending her days at the ATC or in the free seconds of the night on the frontlines with someone new curled up in her sheets that wasn’t him. She had thought then if things ended differently then she would have been happy forever with Darry. But, after being “happy” with Plague and still cheating on him with other men, she couldn’t help but wonder if she eventually would have cheated on her beloved Hyakinthos as well.

    That’s what she did after all, wasn’t it? Instead of facing the things that made her miserable, she found ways to sabotage the good things she had and run. Plague was a good man. He loved her, cherished her, pampered, and cared for her, bending practically in half for her. What had she ever done for him? She had screamed, picked fights, took every opportunity given to push him away and still he had stood strong at her side. She had caged him to her side, had lost their child, had failed in every way possible as a boss, a lover, and a friend. He deserved so much better and more. He deserved a partner that would welcome being his deity rather than want to tear down all the walls around him and leave him half a man.

    And Sam...Samson Apollinaire was just another victim caught in the cogs of her mad puppet show, wasn’t he? Blu, crammed her trinkets back into the old shoebox as she struggled to not think of how physically close and yet how far she was right in that moment to him. She had absolutely obliterated him. She had been the reason for the ding in his career record. She had used him as both a physical and emotional release without acknowledgment or seemingly any care for the consequences of being such a burden. She had held his precious, sweet, tender beating heart in her hands and had just as easily squashed it until it was unrecognisable before carelessly tossing it into the mud as if he had meant nothing to her.

    But, that wasn’t the truth either, now was it?

    Blu closed the lid on her box and slid it back under the bed before changing into a nightgown from her bag and crawling under the covers.

    No, it wasn’t the truth.

    She loved Coy, even now although she was not in love with him, she still cared about him.

    She deeply loved Darry. If he were alive today, she’d marry him in a heartbeat. Although if Blu were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure he’d want her now knowing what a harpy she had become.

    She loved Plague and regretted not being good enough for him because of her own selfish bitterness and fear.

    As for Sam, well if she didn’t love him, then she didn’t know what to call what she felt for him. It absolutely hurt deep in her bones knowing what she had done to all of them.

    Fresh, hot tears raced down her stained cheeks. Blu had thought she had already cried away the last of the tears in her but surrounded by the familiar scent of fresh rose linen, tobacco musk, and stale beer, she could not help but feel small and vulnerable again. She pulled the covers up under her chin as she stared up at her ceiling. The window was open making the wooden magpie on her ceiling “fly” in figure eights around and around. On and on it went with no end and no direction. Just like her.

    She didn’t remember falling asleep but she certainly awoke with a start to the covers being ripped off her and a solid swat to the rear. “Gittup, time for prayers n’ chores.”

    “Fuck all, Ma! What time is it?”

    “Pardon me? I sure as sin ain’t just heard ya using foul language in my house young lady! Now ya git on up and git moving ‘fore I get your daddy’s belt. Ya hear me? Animals need fed n’ brekkie needs makin’. Now move it!”

    Blu groaned, rolling into a sitting position as she squinted towards the open window. It was still pitch dark out. Moving was mechanical, born out of near-forgotten routine. She jammed her feet into her old boots, smiling ever so slightly to see they still fit before scooping a jacket on and trudging down the steps and back outside. The work was mindless if a bit more of a struggle than she remembered it being. She was out of practice but the presence of the old family farm dog was a welcome sight. Blu spent a few extra minutes giving Rusty some well-deserved ear scratches before dragging herself back inside to face her family.

    The younger woman didn’t even have a chance to open her mouth before her mother, so frail and pallid looking came flying around the corner. “You’re takin’ your sweet time, now aren’t ya Maggie? Waitin’ for th’ sun t’ come on up n’ invite ya to prayers now? Hurry up n’ wash! N’ get them filthy boots off. Where did ya even find ‘em I was sure I burned those?!”

    Blu couldn’t get a word in edgewise as her mother with a grip far stronger than she ever could have expected, latched onto her wrist and dragged her to a sink to toss a washcloth at her. In a daze, Blu shimmied out of her boots before washing her hands and face. There was a barked “feet too!” that she was quick to comply with before she was dragged off to the old mudroom to the east side of the house. Her eyes widened to see not only her mother’s prayer mat but her old one as well. She made to protest, only managing to get out one “Ma” before Gin hissed at her and placed a finger to her own pale lips.

    The older matron moved to her mat and began her prayers, bending and kneeling with an ease that belied her old age. While Blu followed in the motions, her own body creaking and popping as it was forced to wake up before she was ready, her mind could not have been more empty.

    When even was the last time she had prayed? There was the time Yavul had nearly been buried alive and she had knelt in the mud and begged. The time before that had more been screaming than praying for the gods to not take her baby from her. They had not saw fit to listen.

    Her lips pursed in irritation as she bowed once more and pressed her forehead to the corded rug. It must have been Edanith then. She had lost much of her devoutness in ATC, favouring sleeping in and sleeping around over prayers. But, truth be told, Darrin’s death was likely the last time she’d prostrated herself before the gods and cursed them for their useless, foul sense of humour, for daring to allow the deaths of so many, for stealing away everything she ever loved. She had hardened her heart to them after that and had never looked back.

    She knelt there for several extra moments longer even after her mother had quietly finished and rolled up her mat to make breakfast. Blu stayed and stared unseeing at the light creeping through the window. Her mind though was so far away. Sam probably thought that the gods were not to blame in the end for what had happened between them; she was a monster of her own making. The Pilot was inclined to agree. As much as she hated everything to do with Solarta, she could no longer remember anymore why it was worse to be a bumpkin than to be the vile woman she had become instead.

    Her body creaked and swayed as she got back to her feet and trudged back into the kitchen where food was nearly ready. “Ya gonna tell me now why you’re here girl? What tragedy befell ya now that suddenly ya remember we exist here? Get inta a fight with your husband agin?” her mother asked while plopping down a cup of black coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. The eggs looked like they were swimming in oil with how wet and runny they were. A tentative poke of her fork revealed that was not the case though, they were severely undercooked. Blu pursed her lips and went for the coffee instead. Bitter sludge burned her tongue leaving behind not only a foul taste but several floating grounds as well. Gin really was getting up there in age now it seemed, a thought that made Blu clench her jaw and make a mental note to handle later.

    “Mama I ain’t been married to Coy in o’er a decade,” she sighed, unable to keep up the act today of all days that everything was fine. “I-”

    “About time ya finally admitted it!”

    Blu froze and looked at her mother in unsure silence. She was trying to gauge just how far gone her mother’s mind was now. Gin had never quite been the same after the war killed both her sons, but Blu had been under the impression the woman was still in denial. Had that finally changed?

    “You knew?” she asked softly.

    “Maggie, I’m old, not blind. I seen Coy Shiner with his pretty wife and his line a’ chilluns marchin’ up n’ down th’ path like they own th’ place. None a’ ‘em got your eyes though Blubaby. Ya got Moon eyes, ain’t nobody got bluer ones.

    “Now tell me, Mags, why ya skulkin’ inta my house in th’ middle a’ th’ night like a thief when ya ain’t never wanna be here? Ya lose another babe ya ain’t even told us ya carryin’ in th’ first place?”

    Blu inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring in quiet rage at her mother’s stinging barb. She deserved that too she supposed. There really was no end to the damage she had caused her so-called loved ones. “Je suis perdu, Maman. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve gone and done so many wrong things that I don’t know how to do right no more.”

    “Hogwash! Cut ya hair, wash yer face, fix yer makeup girl but don’t ya dare sit there and feel sorry for yourself! Whataya gone n’ done now, Maggie? You sleepin’ with a married man? Gods Both tell me I ain’t raised ya t’ be a hussy!”

    “No, Ma I ain’t sleep with much of nobody no more. I cheated on the man I was sleeping with, with another man. They both are good men and I broke them so bad, Mama. I liked ‘em both and I did ‘em wrong so good.”

    “That’s it?” Gin rolled her eyes and lit another cigarette. “Finish your breakfast and lemme tell ya somethin’,” she ordered before taking a long few draws of the shaking and slightly bent tobacco stick. Blu obeyed silently, forking a messy bite of eggs into her mouth only to wince at the telltale crunch of eggshell. Mama used to be such a good cook too.

    “I ain’t gonna have this, Maggie! I raised ya better’n this! You made this mess, ya damn well fix it! Ya hear me? You right them wrongs. You make your apologies. You get back in th’ saddle and ya go back t’ war all th’ stronger. You’ve spent too much time fightin’ them Edani bastards that you’ve forgotten who ya are! I won’t have it! You never used t’ fight me on prayers. You ain’t never crawled around on ya belly like a snake and now this is th’ second time ya gone done crawlin’ on home faster’n a dog in heat! Don’t ya dare let them bastards win, Maggie. Not my Blu! I won’t have it! They tryin’a take our land and now my babies too? You n’ your brothers ain’t never come ‘round no more, ain’t pay me any mind ‘less you want somethin’. I know yous at war but I’m still your Mama! If ya have time t’ play th’ horizontal rodeo with a herd a’ bulls ya have time t’ come see me n’ your poor father! I know y’all are fighting a war Maggie but I think ya forgot th’ reason ya even fightin’ anymo’e. We’ll beat them Edani bastards, I know it! But, ya gotta keep ya head above ward-er baby girl. We’re all countin’ on ya. Don’t ya never forget that! Ya hurt th’ people that matter most, ya ain’t got nothin’ left t’ fight for. Quit runnin’ Blu, that ain’t th’ Moon way.”

    Blu clapped a hand over her mouth as her mother lectured her with all the fierce tough love of a Solartan maman. It was as if something inside had finally snapped as a keening sound tore its way up from her throat. Her mother might be senile and in denial, she might think the war was still raging on to this day and that her boys were coming home any day now, but she was dead to straights right about one thing. It was time to try again. It was time to remember who she was, who she used to be, and become the woman her mama would be proud of. It was good and well to face the consequences of her actions with her head held high but it was long overdue time to make the necessary changes to prevent the repeated course of those same actions that led to such painful pitfalls.

    The Pilot bit into the side of her finger as she rocked and tried to force the burning in her eyes to lessen. Moons weathered storms and always came out on their feet. They didn’t cry over bumps and bruises. They brushed them off and got back up again. It was stupid for her to cry and she knew it. Sudden arms wrapped about her head and shoulders though pressing her against a warm bosom and clung to her tightly, forcing her to stay put and not run.

    “I’m disappointed in ya plenty,” Gin whispered into her daughter’s hair hoarsely. “But I ain’t love ya nonetheless babygirl. Don’t ya forget it. I ain’t never gonna stop lovin’ ya. Do me proud, Mags. Do me proud.”

    A cracking sob escaped Blu as she clung back to her mother tightly. “Je t'aime, Maman. Je t’aime,” she cried as her mother combed soothing fingers through her hair and let her cry it out. Only when the younger woman seemed calmer did she order her off to clean herself up.

    “How long ya stayin’ for?”

    “I leave tomorrow night.”

    “Oh good, then when you’re good and done with this mess ya can gittup on that barn roof and fix th’ leak for me. Run along now n’ for Gods Both sakes, Maggie put some damn makeup on ‘fore ya scare chickens right outta th’ coup!”

    Blu gulped down the slurry that dared try to qualify as coffee before taking herself up to the family bathroom. The mirror was still crooked there and the sink chipped but it was as clean and spotless as always. Mama ran a tight house and she wouldn’t hear any complaints about it being kept otherwise. But, the Pilot didn’t have eyes much for the decor. Instead she braced herself and looked into the mirror.

    For the first time in a long time she gave herself a true, thorough look. Those famous Moon eyes of hers were still as deep blue as ever but were bloodshot, red, puffy, and sunken in deep with dark, dark circles under them. Her hair hung scattered and limp about her thin face and even to her, her cheekbones looked too sharp and pronounced. There was a faint sallowness to her skin that contrasted sickeningly with mulberry bursts of colour that stained her skin. She was a right mess she was.

    In those eyes she saw no spark anymore. There was anger and pain. But, there was also deep-seated defeat. She looked tired, sad, and long-suffering. Gone was the girl full of toothy grins and dancing eyes. She’d been replaced by a shell of a woman who didn’t even know who she was anymore.

    Blu growled and shook her head in frustration. What was she even doing here? She didn’t know who she was. She didn’t know who she was supposed to be anymore. She just knew she didn’t want to be this. She didn’t want to be everyone’s monster. She didn’t want to hear the voices of her inner demons and know they were right. She wanted an end to this. She wanted to make it all STOP.

    She ran a hand through her hair as her eyes drifted over to one end of the sink. Sitting on its little stand was her father’s razor. The blade looked sharp and new; Blu was almost certain that not only had it not been used, that it wouldn’t ever be. She’d caught a glimpse of Shinoba’s scraggly beard when she had come in the night before, that spoke volumes about his current grooming habits.

    Blu plucked it up, measuring its weight in her hand as she took in the stark contrast of gleaming silver against her golden skin. If she turned her wrist just so she could catch glimpses of blue veins in the fluorescent lighting. She looked at herself in the mirror again. It would be so easy to do. Just a few quick passes of the blade and it would be all over. Blu licked her cracked lips, eyes trained on the switch before her thumb flicked it on. She could do this. She would do this. One deep inhale and then her eyes slammed closed and she swiped quickly. Her exhale was slow but it started a frenzy of movements. Frantically, over and over she ran the razor over herself as if too afraid that if she stopped now she would lose her nerve.

    When she did at last stop, the razor falling into the sink with a clatter so that she could look at herself, it was an entirely different woman that stared back at her. Shoulder-length locks of amethyst dusted her nightgown and shoulders now in huge clumps. The face staring back at her looked uncertain but determined. There was no going back now. Blu ran a hand over the purple peach fuzz that was now her hair. It was perhaps a harsh look but she felt it suited her current inner struggles. The razor was picked up once more to fix the small patches she had missed and then she put it back away and squared off with the face in the mirror.

    “I am Blu Magnolia Moon. I was born in Solarta to Shinoba and Gin Moon. I am the sister of Koba and Worf Moon. I am the mother of Belladonna Joelle Moon. I am the former wife of Coy Shiner. I am a Pilot Royal and the Commander of the Amristah Angels.

    “I am a liar, a cheater, and a disgrace. I,” she faltered slightly, a strangled laugh tickling her lips before she shook her head and continued, “I am a bumpkin bitch and I’m going to work to remember what that means again. I’m going to tighten my bootstraps and hold my head high. And maybe one day I can earn back the respect and trust others once had in me. And if I don’t, then I understand how my actions hurt those I love and I do not blame them. I’m going to do better, be better and this time will be different.”

    “And you’re gonna get your tail up on that barn roof and fix it ‘fore I die a’ old age here! Quit your mirror preening and go start admirin’ your reflection in th’ tin roof! It ain’t gonna fix itself ya know!” Gin barked from the top of the stairs, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip as she rolled her eyes and shook her head at her only daughter.

    “Oui, Maman!” Blu called back, laughing and feeling free for the first time in a long time.

    10
    Adstreia / Gravity Assist [VERY M] [Neph]
    « on: April 30, 2019, 06:03:15 pm »
    With a flick of his lighter, Joseph took a deep drag of his cigar, the tip glowing deep orange. He held it in, letting his lungs burn before tilting his head back and allowing a cloud of smoke to billow out with a pleased sigh. The cigar was returned to the corner of his mouth while he relaxed against the bar, dark beer in hand.

    “Now this,” he growled deeply, “is almost the life. So close and yet,” he trailed off eyeing his oldest friend suggestively while taking another deep puff. Joseph smirked and wiped imaginary dirt off the knee of his dark washed jeans. Never in a million years would he expect Aaron Stohl to agree to such a proposal but that had never stopped the older man from teasing and testing that boundary every chance he had. He certainly found the man attractive enough even with his severe attitude. The problem though was that as sinfully delicious as it would be to fold Aaron into all manner of shapes and make him whimper and beg for pleasure and pain both, Tucker knew that his friend was too much like him to actually submit.

    They were both mountains that stood firmly rooted against an oncoming storm. No wind could ever make them bow to it, though many had tried to over the years. He smirked to himself, rolling his shoulders and enjoying the creak of his leather chest harness that rested atop his shoulders with criss-crossing bands over the chest and back of his grey band t-shirt. Beneath both, his muscles bulged and rippled with his movements causing an illusion that the macabre tattoos decorating his arms were actually moving themselves.

    “Remind me again why it’s been so long since we last did this?” he asked leaning back on the barstool to take a hearty swig of his drink and take in the room.

    Rebar had a dark and smoky atmosphere with a bit of everything to suit its diverse clientele. The taps never ran dry, the lights were always low, and the scent of leather and smoke was notable throughout the establishment. It was not uncommon to find shadowy figures getting up to all kinds of fun along the walls or in dark, leather booths. A live band played across from bar with an open dancefloor between. A few bodies were swaying and rocking to the beat but for the most part people kept to themselves and their drinks. The majority of the fun was had on the second floor of the bar where dark rooms promised a heady thrill of anonymous sex and fondling. An array of toys, swings, and other contraptions were organised about the rooms for whatever fun a client might desire. Joseph himself had patronised such rooms from time to time when a cute enough pup had come barking at his heels. The night was young though so he chose to pace himself and just enjoy shooting the breeze with the asshole Pilot that dare to call him best friend.

    11
    Adstreia / Binary Orbit [Neph]
    « on: April 28, 2019, 04:13:18 pm »
    Black, strappy stiletto heels clicked in measured steps up the Stellarium steps to the figure checking guests in with his digital display.

    “Name please?” he asked without bothering to look up at the tall form in front of him.
    “Pilot Derriere,” she replied, looking him up and down with a smile curl to the corner of her lips.
    “Kie-” her name trailed off with a soft gasp as he finally looked up, wide-eyed and flushed. He cleared his throat and fussed with the display in front of him. “Kielen Derriere? Uh right inside and to your um left ma’am. Have a lovely evening!”

    Kielen chuckled, winking once with a lightly drawled “thank you, Sweet Thang” before following the directions inside to where other guests were already milling about, many with drinks in hand. The small train of her heavily beaded black dress dragged behind her as she glided across the floor, turning heads and greeting coworkers along the way.

    She couldn’t remember the exact name of this particular event although it had been left open to the public that could afford an entry ticket. Upper tier socialites mixed with Pilots rubbing elbows, posturing, and trying their luck at getting a piece of whatever they were after. Kielen couldn’t blame them, when she herself would not mind finding some tall, handsome glass of espresso to take a tumble in and out of the sheets with. The gala itself though was a fundraiser of some sort or another that would be gaining the majority of its charity money by auctioning off “dates” with attractive and available Adstreian Pilots. Each date was meant to be tailormade with the respective auctioned Pilot in mind while still catering to a civilian’s celebrity dream.

    Kielen was one of those PR-selected Pilots and had been indifferent about the whole thing in general. In her mind it was a double opportunity to have a bit of fun on Aedolis’s credit and collect on the Three C’s of Life while she was at it. However, without the juicy incentive, she would have skipped the charade in a heartbeat. While years of etiquette and strategic training in her youth meant that she could navigate the scene with the poise and wordless authority of a queen, Kielen still would much rather be rocking and swinging to a pounding beat that threatened to drown her every heartbeat out with each concussive thud.

    She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the bar though as she leaned up against the counter and just had to smile at the woman reflected back at her. Green eyes of fire blazed beneath thick, dark lashes against flawless skin. Her hair was piled up messily with careful tendrils of curls spilling out to frame her face and accentuate her bare neck and the plunging neckline of her dress that reached all the way to her waist. While she could not see the back of the dress from this view, she could feel the way the beaded cords draped over her bare back like a reverse necklace. The lights glinted over the beads and sequins of her dress making her feel like star.

    A tilt of her head, a faint smile, and a bat of her lashes was all it took for the bartender to ignore the line and hop over to her.

    “Hi Sweet Thang, may I have a glass of champagne please?”
    “Anything for you dollface,” he smirked with a wink while getting her drink.

    She kept her expression relaxed, not once showing how she despised the name. Instead she kept a careful eye on her glass as it was made until it was pressed into her hand along with a napkin with a number on it. Kielen hummed with another bat of her eyes, wiggling her fingers in a bit of a wave to the bartender in thanks. She didn’t get far though, as the moment she turned around she found that the bar wasn’t the only place with a queue. The Pilot made it a total of three steps before men, and a few women, seemed to slink out of the woodwork to greet her.  She took a sip of her glass, her eyes trailing slowly over the forms of each before nodding her head in greeting with a hungry smile.

    “Hello, Sweets. Who might you be?”

    12
    Wanderers and Independents / Preedox Yu'a
    « on: April 18, 2019, 09:38:35 am »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Preedox Yu’a
    Alias Chuckles, Pree, Doxx
    Age 3784
    DOB September 13th
    Gender Male
    Species Starstrider Elf; House Phaeton
    Ethnicity Serenian
    Height 6’11”
    Occupation Deep Space Pirate; Ship Engineer
    Residence The Birthday Cake
    Voiceclaim Sigourney Weaver

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Preedox is tall and lanky with long, delicate facial features and well developed musculature, especially in his shoulders and arms. At first glance it is easy to mistake him as not belonging to the Starstrider race. While he does possess pointy ears, his skin is a deep, deep chocolate brown nearly blank and his hair is a very muddy brown with slightly golden highlights His piercing sunshine eyes though give away that he is neither another species nor a Horizon but of House Phaeton.

    His long hair when loose is straight and reaches to just past his waist. Most people would not realise the extent of its length though as he traditionally keeps it wrapped in a messy and haphazard bun. His perpetual scowl is also made more severe seeming due to a small but bright scar that runs parallel to his nose and through his upper lip on the left side. Preedox also has one other significant scar although is not easily or usually seen. He was shot in the back of the his right upper thigh. His crewmates have been known to joke that he was actually shot in the ass especially since he occassionally has a bit of a limp although it is not usually very pronounced.

    For adornments, Preedox has a bridge piercing as well as two tattoos. On the left side of his neck is a teal, glowing tattoo of a mute symbol. It is the shared tattoo of his current crew and is a representation of his intention and desire to reject having a Resonance. Additionally, on the inside of his right forearm is a watercolour tree tattoo. The rainbow ink seems to drip down and bleed from the leaves until it forms a red pool at the base of the tree around his wrist. His usual attire is a flight suit with the top tied around his waist and a dark tank top underneath with heavy boots. Pree isn’t big on jewellery but he does have a black watch that he wears on his right hand. He also keeps a gun strapped to his right thigh when off the ship.

    Personality

    He is a taciturn, sarcastic, biting, and downright abrasive man at the best of times. Preedox thinks most people are idiots and has little time or trust for anyone, even those that have known him the longest. He isn’t one to let people get in and close to him and seems to have no sense of humour with the way he grunts or scowls in response to others.

    Preedox was once a gentle and giving soul but years of disappointments have hardened his heart. He is by no means altruistic anymore and what he does for others is of a motive all of his own. It is easy to mistake this cold-nature for that of an asshole. And in fact he would gladly welcome such beliefs if it meant being left alone.

    He is however, rather shy and has an air of sadness about him. But, that being said if pushed enough, he will most certainly snap. There are a lot of things that make Preedox angry but he is traditionally good about ignoring them unless they directly affect his person. Identify him as anything other than a Starstrider or as being from House Horizon and he will be furious. Invade his personal space enough to corner him and he will viciously lash out.

    He is seemingly unpredictable, very analytical and critical of others, but also a great problem-solver. If you are willing to gamble the risk of having him around, he has the potential to be the perfect card in your deck to get you out of a sticky situation. He’s great at improvising on the spot but terrible at coming to a long-term decision quickly.

    Things
    • Secretly collects small old-fashioned children’s plastic dinosaurs and other extinct beasties.
    • Room is filled with hanging plants especially huge philodendron but does have ferns and spider plants as well. Most pride plant is a dark purple set of violets that he’s had since he lived on Earth.
    • Has a small lockbox under his bed covered in dust and filled with old pictures and papers.
    • Has a habit of reaching out or keeping a hand on an inside wall of the ship regardless of where he is in the ship.
    • VERY heavy sleeper and not easily woken up unless something is wrong with the ship he’s on. Then he tends to just “know.”
    • Listens to a lot of “New Age” music.
    • Enjoys “girly” drinks. If it’s pink and fruity he’ll probably be all about that.

    Magic/Abilities

    A damn fine engineer: knows his way in, out, and around most ships in an almost uncanny sort of way. Is very intune with their innerworks and just tends to know things. Can’t really explain why a thing must be the way it is and gets very hostile when questioned. Just trust him damn it!

    Fair fighter: he’s a fair enough shot with a gun and can handle himself in hand-to-hand combat for a short while if he has an ability to get away. Preedox does best with stealth fighting though and sneaking up behind someone. His talents lie more in the unknown attack rather than the brute force one.

    Relationships

    Resonance: The song has been out in the universe very quietly for a while now and Preedox has absolutely NO intention of ever following that pull. EVER. He is afraid of the day though when the universe has enough with his running and forces him to face it head on.

    History

    Pree is old. He’s old enough to remember a time when the Earth was still green but, had already begun to die. He’s old enough to have seen species go extinct and the world become entranced and captivated by technology, space exploration, and mass production.

    When he was a younger man, full of vigour and fire, he was an activist. Marches, riots, rallies, fundraisers, he was always in the thick of it. Save the Earth, save the animals, down with using finite resources, down militaristic control; you name it, he was likely there protesting it. It did not matter to him if he was the only one or one of hundreds or thousands, he would fight for what he believed in.

    Preedox once truly believed that while he couldn’t hear his resonance yet that just meant he had time to make a habitable world for them both to love and raise children together. He was willing to fight to make it just right and he took solace and pride in that while patiently waiting. Repeated failures and disappointments though served as “proof” that people are NOT as good as he once thought. What was the use of hope when it was just drowned in neon poison.

    He remembers a world that divided itself out of greed, raging and warring with each other as they went. He was one of many that took to the stars in the end. Preedox didn’t stay put on the newly made Libra station for long though. He felt being trapped in a stationary hunk of metal too caging and instead began jumping from ship to ship, taking up odd jobs. Eventually, he found an uncanny affinity for mechanical engineering. He’s now since joined a pirate crew of Starstriders and serves as their ship mechanic for the past few centuries.

    The day he abandoned Earth though, will forever remain the day he abandoned all hope.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    13
    Aedolis Characters / Jindra Ralgorfyr; Pilot Echo
    « on: April 11, 2019, 08:53:57 pm »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Jindra Ralgorfyr
    Alias Big Red, Jin, Jinny, VocalFry
    Age 137
    DOB February 29th
    Gender Agender
    Species ½ Starstrider Elf; House Antares, ½ Kilanthro Mountain Giant
    Ethnicity Aedolian
    Height 7’4”
    Occupation Pilot Echo; Deep Strike Combat Operations
    Residence Apcintoch, Aedolis
    Voiceclaim Jinjer

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Like most House Antares Starstrider Elves, Jindra has the classic deep red skin and hair as well as the bright orange eyes and pointed ears. Their hair though does tend to get a few random tight curls from time to time when in wet or humid environments thanks to their Opo’s genes. They also keep it jaw length so that it is just long enough to tie up in a short and messy ponytail that usually has red strands escaping all the time.

    Jindra has also inherited more of their Bibi’s slender, yet muscular build but their Opo’s height. Jindra has a small bit of scruff on their chin which is surprisingly soft to the touch rather than too prickly. Their nose also has an extra dip in it from having been broken one too many times over the years.

    They are all about body modification and therefore has a plethora of piercings. On their face they have both a labaret and a medusa piercing along with a tongue piercing. Their left eyebrow has two small hoops and their left ear has another two hoop auricle piercings. In contrast, their right ear has a triple forward helix and a daith hoop piercing. Below the belt they have a full Jacob’s Ladder as well as a Prince Albert.

    Their modifications are not limited to just piercings either. Jindra also has a few tattoos and is always talking about possibly getting more (although they tend to constantly be changing ideas of what from week to week. Over where both their hearts are they have old ritual designs of warding and protection in glowy gold ink. These along with a larger matching piece on the upper centre of their back were all created by their Bibi and meant to protect Jindra from harm according to the old magics of their family. They also have a small music note in black with a slash through it on their neck under their left ear.

    As for style, Jindra is fond of woven, wrap bracelets, ripped jeans, and open button ups (usually wrinkled) over graphic t-shirts.

    Personality

    Flirty but selective: Despite knowing they have a resonance that they have not found (yet) and that they one day wish to meet, Jindra will hit on anything and everyone. They take great pleasure in making people blush and stutter with their attentions. However, there are very, very few who ever get to scoot off with them to the nearest semi-flat surface for some extracurricular fun. Jindra is secretly a romantic and while they have no desire to adhere to old (read ancient!) Starstrider traditions and customs, they still are hopeful for the day they find their resonance and get to meet them. Until then, they’re going to have a little fun.

    Rulebreaker but honest: Jindra is a goofball who enjoys bending the rules and seeing how far they can go before something snaps. Their tomfoolery though is never malicious nor is it something that would endanger their work or fellow Pilots. They are quick to fess up to their mischief as well, especially if they’ve managed to cross a line or boundary.

    Sassy but sweet: They have a tongue that is quick not only in the bedroom but also with banter. Jindra rolls easily with the punches and is not deterred by remarks against their person. If anything they revel in it and rise to the challenge, returning fire with gentle fire. They smile through every insult and once the ribbing is done is always quick to offer a hug or kind word.

    Strong but soft: Very little ever seems to bother Jindra outwardly. They banter, tease, and smile in the face of animosity. And when they love, it is without reservations. But, beneath the surface is a tender and anxious heart. It takes them time to sort out the things that cut deep but when they do, they try their best to talk it out with someone before coming to the decision of how they should handle such troublesome things.

    Impulsive but reserved: Continuing on this thought, when it comes to small things Jindra is quick to act. Their apartment has plenty of random odds and ends that were purchased because of this exact issue. Their mischief and fun also likewise usually laidback and just taking things as they are. But more serious personal matters are usually dissected extensively at every angle before they even consider taking a step in any direction. While slow to act in this respect, they believe they have yet to make a wrong choice, or one they couldn’t live with.

    Things
    • Gave up smoking to protect their vocal cords but still carries a pack of cigarettes and will take them out to hold without lighting up.
    • Makes a MEAN procrastination lasagna. Is also a bit of an earnest cooking disaster
    • Avid choir practice performer.
    • Partially deaf in their left ear after a dicey mission. Has a hearing aid that is supposed to help but “misplaces” it often.
    • Honourbound to pet every dog they come across and always carries dog treats for this express purpose.
    • Sedatephobic.

    Magic/Abilities

    Telepathy: Jin is a moderately capable telepath. Their range and strength are average and get the job done when needed.

    Low Frequency Vocal Manipulation: A branch of telekinesis that allows Jindra to emit strong and potentially destructive or fatal low frequency vibrations using their voice. What their kinetic ability is capable of is all dependent on the volume, frequency, and duration of the sounds they emit. While the frequency vibration they are emitting is not audible the words and sounds that they associate and overlay with this ability are possibly audible depending on which subset they are using.

    • Vocal Projection: This ability allows them to project their frequencies up to five miles if the conditions are right. On average two to two and a half miles tends to be their usual range though.
    • Verbal Compulsion: Jindra was raised a firm believer that words have power and it shows in this ability. Whether it is because of the words themselves that they use or their own belief in their power that activates this ability is unknown. However, it is their weakest ability. Only particularly weakened minds or small compulsions are able to affected and acted upon.
    • Disruptive Hum: The most common use of Jindra’s abilities is creating a soft low frequency vibration, that while unheard to most human ears causes victims to experience issues with visual functions, concentration, and continuous and selective attention.
    • Concussive Roar: At higher volumes and stronger low frequencies, Jindra is able to produce a “roar” which can actually be felt. This vibration is strong enough to temporarily or permanently deafen, induce a fear response, and even in some cases cause full-body paralysis. The limitation on this ability is that it can only be sustained as long as Jindra is able to hold the sound with each breath. They can however cause cycling series of roars one after the other but does risk damaging their vocal cords. After using this ability, they often have to spend several days to several weeks mute to rest their voice. They however are not very good about this and often get yelled at for whispering.
    • Death Song: The obviously deadliest and most dangerous of Jindra’s abilities, if held for a long enough period of time at full volume and the lowest frequency, they are capable of killing all that “hear” the sound. There are several risks with this though. For one the frequency is so low that it cannot be detected by normal human hearing. Additionally, Jindra runs the risk of harming their own fellow Pilots if their equipment is faulty, killing themself, or the most likely, damaging their vocal cords beyond repair. They have yet to fully unleash this ability although R&D does have them come in for equipment testing from time to time.

    Relationships

    Anastolyr Ralgorfyr: Their bibi who taught them the power of words and the need to take care when using them. The tattoos on their chest and back are spells designed by Ana at their request. Jin loves Ana very much and loves to tease him for being the perfect chinrest height. Also the only one who gets to call them Jinny.

    Segari Ralgorfyr: Their opo who taught them that strength is more than just physical...but when it comes to technology, if it doesn’t work, banging it around will surely fix it! Jin is also close with Segari and the pair are known to wrassle about when left in the same room together.

    Siblings: Jin couldn’t easily tell you off the top of their head how many of these they have. They have blood siblings that are close to 5000 years old and others that are a few centuries older than themself. However, they also have several adopted siblings as well as the foster children that their parents often take in. There is never a shortage of laughter and mischief in the Ralgorfyr home and while it can be chaotic at times, Jin wouldn’t give it up for anything.

    Crebri: She’s Jin’s dark blue, hulking giant of a dragon with a long snout and a mostly metal tail. She also has metal plating on her right hip and part of her lower spine. Despite her surely appearance, she can be considered almost sweet in temperament at least where her rider is concerned. Crebri took a long time in choosing Jin but she still stands by her choice over a century later.

    Resonance: The song is new now and while Jin is looking forward to hear it up close, they bounce between being extremely excited for it and wanting to just take their time and enjoy life before knowing the truth.

    History

    Born and raised in Sikuria to an old and very loving resonance pair, Jindra has always been surrounded by family and minor chaos. There were always playmates of all ages to get up to mischief with and it was rare to have a moment complete silence. Jindra also did not develop into their abilities until they were much "older" (although they were still very much a child for their species). They started candidacy at 81 (about 13 for their species) and the rest as they say is history.

    They’ve fought in wars, served their country, bled for their country, and still come out smiling. They’re living life as it comes and try not to think too hard on what the future may or may not hold. That’s for “adultier adults” to worry about.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    14
    Synesthesia / Welcome to the Show [Solo Oneshot] [M]
    « on: November 06, 2018, 07:12:55 pm »
    "--hands up like a rollercoaster. This love is taking over. Take us higher, here we go. Oh, oh, oh. Welcome to the show!"

    Long gloved arms shot up in the air to sway and wriggle to the beat of the music. The young blonde didn't consider for one second how she looked as she let the music free her. The lyrics belted off her tongue and her head rocked side to side, sending loose, feathery platinum strands of hair fluttering about when they didn't stick to the clammy skin of her neck and cheeks.

    Joan had needed a break from all things Pilot and squad related so she had high-tailed it out of work come Friday on the first rail going anywhere that was outside of Margad. She hadn't even packed a bag, just threw on some fun clothes and bolted. Between the arguments with Jonesy, the exhausting drills, the antics with Ellis, the worrying and fawning over Mattie's new kittens, and the countless restless nights of late, Joan was more than ready to run and treat herself to some personal pampering of some sort or another.

    Four corndogs, a giant soft pretzel, a triple scoop ice cream, and an extra large cone of candied almonds later, Joan had felt sated enough in the hunger department to bounce her way off to the clubs where hours later she was still dancing and singing her ass off. All around her people were getting lost in the music, feeding the empath full of a feel-good high. This was exactly what she needed. No more anxiety and negativity constantly pelted at her, although to be fair Jonesy was trying to be better at that. No more jumping to take care of others. No more being hit on by dumbasses who thought boasting about the size of their dick was the way to win a woman's heart. Alright, maybe there were those two jerks at the bar earlier but they had been easy enough to blow off.

    But, the point was she could let her hair down and just melt into the crowd and the beat. She danced for hours until her head was spinning and a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin. She crooned song lyrics until her tongue felt heavy and her throat felt like fire. Joan let herself be free so that she felt like she was flying. It was good to forget obligations and responsibilities for a little while.

    So hours later when she was exhausted to the bone, it was a good weariness too, she was ready to call it a night. It was the kind of tiredness that promised a long, dreamless sleep and a slow, lazy re-emergence into the land of the living much, much later. As a chronic sufferer of nightmares and worse, she was hardly about to pass that up. The only question that remained now was whether she should trundle her ass home on the rail again where morning meant facing reality again or if she should rent herself a room for the night and risk the disorientating horror of sleep paralysis in a new environment.

    She lit up a cigarette, taking a heavy drag of it before coughing and stubbing it back out. It wasn't what she wanted. Joan flicked the whole thing into a disposal bin as she meandered past it.

    "Now ain't that a waste. Kids these days just don't know how to smoke," a smooth voice growled at her from a nearby bench.

    The Pilot rolled her eyes and set her jaw, choosing to ignore the man and walk onwards than waste her breath on him. The man stood up to follow her, making Joan stand up straighter, her hands slipping into her coat pockets to grip her com and blindly unlock it. She caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and felt a chill run up her spine. He was huge. Even as a highly trained Pilot, Joan could see she was outmatched for weight and height should things dissolve into a physical alteration. If it meant anything, she really wasn't in the mood for one either.

    "I said you wasted the cigarette, kid. If you're not going to smoke them, then don't buy them. I could teach you if you wanted though. Could teach you all kinds of things," he purred, falling into step right beside her. "Got nothing to say for yourself, princess? Come on now I'm only teasing you. Surely a pretty girl like you knows how to have fun, yeah? Maybe? Smile for me princess. I bet you're real pretty when you smile."

    At the first lit intersection she found, Joan took a sharp right and tried to peel away from the stranger into an oncoming crowd. Not even his gasp of surprise stopped her as she quickened her pace to catch up with a gaggle of girls ahead of her. If she could keep to safety in numbers then maybe she wouldn't have to beat the living shit out the creep at the cost of her own health.

    A bruising grip suddenly yanked her back and spun her around to face her attacker. "Jo?" he asked, earning a fierce glare as she swung to strike him. The hand in her pocket clutching her com, pressed nine and then dial moments before he caught her punch and trapped her arms firmly against her sides. It was not that long ago that young Pilots like her had suddenly gone missing in a case that had affected several domes across the country. Was that what this was? Or was it a "simple" case of assault and worse?

    Joan didn't want to wait to find out. She could only hope and pray that the person on the other line wouldn't think she was up to her usual mischief and would recognise the potential trouble of her calling and not answering. She rocked back onto her heels and dropped her weight like a rock, forcing her captor to become unbalanced and crouch over her. Joan did not stop there as she then used her free legs to her advantage to kick and twist about violently while screaming and shouting at the top of her lungs. She was not going to be prey. She was not going to be a victim. She was not going to be some man's toy tonight.

    She was yanked up onto her feet again and squeezed tight into a bear hug, her arms trapped between them and his arms crushing her head and waist to his body. That low voice was calm and smooth as he fought to speak over her and be heard. But Joan didn't want to hear him. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to listen to this monster that acted like he knew her.

    "Joanna listen to me! Jo! It's me. You didn't forget me, did you Lil Sting?"

    Lil Sting.

    That name made her freeze suddenly, her breath frozen within her breast as she turned wide, brown eyes up to meet his doe-eyed gaze. "What did you just call me?" she barked hoarsely.

    "Lil Sting," he repeated, loosening his grip and smiling. "It's me, dad. You didn't forget your old man, did you?"

    Joan felt sick as she ripped herself from his embrace and stumbled backwards. "I hardly recognised you though," he continued. "You look just like your mom. You've really grown up. How you doin' kid?"

    Her nostrils flared as he just stood there smiling toothily with open arms. Joan though felt nothing but rage for the man before her. This was the disgusting piece of trash that had sired her? This was the degrading filth that had moments earlier hunted her like a predator? This man who sure as shit did not look dead like Nonna Anna had said and did not look drugged out of his mind as she had suspected was her father? This was the infamous no-show dad, Joseph Bartholomew Tucker?

    The Scorpion shook her head from side to side first slowly and then faster and faster until her blonde ponytail was whipping from side to side and beating her cheeks. She back-pedaled away until her shoulder clipped a lamppost and then she turned and bolted. Joan ran and ran unsure if she was being followed or not but unwilling to chance it. She couldn't do it. She couldn't stay and see him and everything he represented from her past. He may not have been the one to harm her but he had good as doomed her to a life of nightmares and suffering.

    By the time she made it to the rail station, she was shaking with adrenaline and completely out of breath. Her lungs were screaming and seizing for air even as she moved to lean up against a tiled wall. Gasping for air she plunged her hand into her coat and rummaged around until she was able to drag out com, still on with an answered call.

    "Jonesy?" she asked, voice shaky and ragged. "I'm okay. Can you meet me at the Margad station in a couple hours? I'm coming home on the next rail from Haviah and I don't want to go home alone."

    So much for a peaceful birthday weekend alone.

    15
    Aedolis Characters / Verdi Voss
    « on: November 03, 2018, 01:19:12 pm »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Verdi Voss
    Alias Feedback
    Age 97
    DOB August 22
    Gender Agender
    Species Kitsuni*
    Ethnicity Aedolian
    Height 4’0”, 4’6” with ears
    Occupation Band Pyrotechnician
    Residence Has a place in lower level Haviah but is rarely home.

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Verdi is Kitsuni meaning that while humanoid and born on Aedolis as a native citizen they have features that are not entirely human. Atop their head are a pair of extra long, fluffy, neon green, fox ears (think fennec fox). They also have a pair of equally long and fluffy, neon green, prehensile tails. Their hair is a deep black and kept long and straight as it reaches to their waist. Verdi’s facial are narrow and delicate looking with their petite nose, high cheekbones, and slanted, almond-shaped, green eyes. Their skin is a sharp contrast to their fur and hair as they are very, very pale and frail looking.

    They are also a genetic anomaly among their people. Not only is their colouring unheard of among Kitsuni but as a two-tail fox, Verdi would regularly be considered a child-bearing capable male. However, unlike the rest of the males of their type, Verdi is a fully intersex in that they possess both fully functional, external genitalia of both genders as opposed to the typical external male and inaccessible internal female parts. They also have very, very small breasts.

    Having been born premature, Verdi is also very petite and physically weak. They become exhausted after a little bit of heavy lifting or physical running so tend to work smarter rather than harder to get things done. Verdi can also be heard wheezing or coughing more often than not, giving their high-pitched voice a bit of a raspy quality.

    In public their style of dress is very cyberpunk. They love to wear a lot of black with neon green accents. Belts and buckles are considered to be the more, the better in their wardrobe. They tend to wear a lot of skimpy fishnet, corsets, and miniskirts. Knee-high platform boots may be a pain to buckle up but Verdi appreciates the extra height they grant them and the sleek look they offer. It is also not uncommon for them to wear black and green cyberlocks in their hair. Makeup for them is often very dark and smokey with bits of colour popping in for effect.

    At home however, they like soft, fuzzy baggy clothes. The moment they are home and in for the night on their own, the gear comes off and the sweats are bundled on. As they are often cold and their “normal” attire isn’t meant for keeping warm, Verdi tends to really relish the times when they can just burrow into plush clothes.

    While Verdi doesn’t have any tattoos, they do have a ton of facial and body piercings. For facial piercings they have five dermal piercings in their forehead that run between their brows to the bridge of their nose. They also three eyebrow rings in their left brow and a stud in their right one. Their left nostril has a very tiny stud that is often hard to see and looks like a spot of glitter in the right light. Verdi also has two hoops in the high cartilage of their right ear. Finally they have a pair of spider bite hoop piercings on their bottom right lip. Body piercings include both nipples being pierced, a jacob’s ladder, and dermal piercings on the back of their hips.

    Personality

    SALT AND VINEGAR
    Verdi is not a typical Kitsuni. They reject their “basic” need for familial closeness and comfort. Instead they will vehemently scorn and rebuff things having to do with their roots and their people. They have a deep-seated disgust for the Kitsuni lifestyle and structure. Their own experiences with it and their “fame” has left them hurt and bitter. They do not go out of their way to cause trouble but they will become angry and aggressive if people, especially Kitsuni, suggest they should return to be with their own people.

    LEARN TO BE LONELY
    Life hasn’t been sunshine and rainbows for Verdi. They know they are choosing to be difficult and that their freedom therefore comes with a price. They are innately lonely. While perfectly comfortable being in the middle of a crowd Verdi still feels invisible and adrift. It is a feeling that when they were part of the Kitsuni community, it was all they wanted to feel. Now though it can flip between been a good thing or a bad thing depending on the day. Verdi has learned to be lonely and to accept it but, there are times they wish they didn’t feel such a deep need to be part of their family and regret turning their back to them.

    TENDER HEART
    From professional settings to personal ones though, outside of Kitsuni relations, Verdi is a very giving and loving person. They will gladly go the extra mile to lend a helping hand without a second thought. The effort of what is asked of them is never second guessed or questioned if it means doing the right thing. Verdi doesn’t ever expect anything back in return.

    In that same vein, they despise cruel or nasty people and make a point to stand up for the underdog should they come across one. Incompetence is no excuse either for hurting someone. In their line of work a mistake could cost someone their life or livelihood and they do not take that risk lightly.

    Things
    • Very asthmatic and has to carry an inhaler with them at all times.
    • Conveniently is constantly losing said inhalers and usually has to go cushion hunting for where they last got abandoned.
    • Heavy smoker especially socially. Prefers menthols as they help ease the headaches brought on by all the noise they’re constantly dealing with at work. This does not at all help their asthma of course.
    • Has a holographic, iridescent coloured lighter that they are very partial to and can be seen playing with when bored. There is something inscribed on the back of it that is well-worn and nearly imperceptible now.
    • Browses dating websites but has yet to actually make a profile on one. They did sign up for one obscure one once but quickly deactivated it soon after.

    Magic/Abilities

    Telepathy: Verdi is a weak telepath. While common for their people theirs is considered average among them. They are only able to communicate with other Kitsuni around them although that is something they avoid like the plague.

    Pyrokinesis*: In their very small community, there are two variety of foxes – fire and ice. Aside from telepathy there are only two possible psionics to appear in their population. Verdi happens to be of the more common fire side of the spectrum. Their ability in Pyrokinesis is surprisingly well-developed considering their overall health problems and anomalies. Had they been in better health they would have been heavily recruited for the military.

    Hearing: Due to their very large ears, Verdi hears extremely well even for their species. This often leads to migraines from being able to pick up lots of sounds on a constant basis.

    Relationships

    Family: Completely disowned and self-exiled from them. Verdi won’t even acknowledge their presence if they were to see them.

    Bands: Verdi has and does work with quite a few bands. They have a relatively nice professional relationship with most of them. Every trade has its assholes though.

    History

    Verdi was a troublesome kit from the moment they were born. They were born not only prematurely but also as the only child of their litter. Their childhood was filled with sickness due to issues with their lungs developing properly. They have been stunted in both height and health due to this leading to their tiny, delicate stature and life-long asthma.

    Growing up was difficult for Verdi as their genetic anomalies made them “famous” in the Kitsuni community, a fact they greatly resented. They are still talked about and stared at when seen by other Kitsuni to this day which is one of many reasons Verdi has removed themselves from the Kitsuni community and refuses to return or acknowledge them.

    They’ve since taken up residence in a lower level of Haviah in a small apartment there. It’s tiny but home and since Verdi is often on the road with some band or another, they don’t really seem to mind.

    *Credit to Kitsuni lore goes to Zero who let me use it with his permission.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads


    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    16
    The Rest of Aedolis / Furious Angels [Solo Oneshot]
    « on: October 22, 2018, 06:43:52 pm »
    Laughter rang out in the Moon household, making it truly feel like home. Who would have thought a year after moving to yet another dome this would be the one? Blu had shown up a whirlwind of minor chaos, boxes packed in stacks, and a cat in tow to Amristah only to have every step she had foreseen for herself completely change irrevocably. She had taken on more responsibility than she ever thought herself capable of, she had gained back a little brother she thought lost to her so long ago, and she earned herself a family she had long since given up on ever acquiring.

    But, her kitchen was filled with laughter, warmth, good food in the works, and even better company to pass the time with. She and Grisham still butted heads but these days it was more out of love and friendship than any sense of territorialism or distaste. Blu was more likely to lean against him while cooking than to try and aggressively bump him out of her way.

    The lasagna slid into the oven with ease as Grisham took over on marinating chicken for whatever starter he had planned while Blu took a quick guzzle of her drink and leaned back on the counter. Her cheeks glowed with more than just wine though as she finally relaxed and listened to the newest chaos Matt and Schuyler had created.

    This was home.

    Her barking laughter continued to ring out even as a deceptively soothing xylophone chime echoed from her com. Drink still in hand, she used the thumb of her other one to swipe the message open. Blu knew what the sound meant.

    Work.

    It only took a few moments of reading to completely change her demeanour. She was all business, straight-backed and pursed lips as she nodded to Grisham. “Angels just got orders to deploy,” she informed him as she abandoned her wineglass and instead marched towards the door to strap her boots back on.

    “Don’t fuckin’ burn my pie, boy, or Imma be mighty pissed with ya. Give my love to Agave and tell ‘im I’ll be along soon as able. Sunova bitch,” she grunted under her breath as she checked to make sure she had everything she needed. Blu was nearly out the door with it closed behind her before she popped her head back in and waved a commanding finger in the other commander’s direction. “And no sex on my denim couch! I mean it!”

    The door slammed with a click behind her, whatever words Grisham had for her, falling on deaf ears.

    The squad assembled quickly and efficiently. They were trained for this and this was not their first rodeo. For that, Blu was grateful. Everyone was loaded up and saddled up with only the necessary questions related to the job on their minds.

    Solarta

    It would have to be there, wouldn’t it? No wonder Yavul was running late, the poor fool was neck deep in sprangershit. When this was all over it would be quite the tale to tell Grisham over reheated dinner later or tomorrow or whenever they were allowed to drag their tired, sorry bodies home.

    In short order, the moment the Angel’s feet touched the ground they were moving. A military personnel greeted the commander and gave her an update on the situation. Valkyries had securing detail. Sirens were on their way to begin collecting lost and wounded. A set of barns closer to the city centre had been secured for tirage purposes. And as of right then the squad leader of the Valkyries was in charge with the loss of Pilot Commander Hyakinthos.

    Her nostrils flared at the name but right now grief and worry were not emotions she could afford. She still had a squadron to command. “Form up!” she barked. “Green zone needs to be directed out of this zone immediately. I want able military personnel in charge of that and for them to get checked by alternative staff. Red zone is going to be furthest out in the event of more sinkholes and emergencies. I want them closest to the easiest evac location possible. Yellow zone will go here and black zone,” she sighed running a displeased hand through her purple locks. “Black zone will be closest to where we can expect Trapdoors coming in from the existing sinkholes. They’re not only carnivores but also scavengers…” Blu didn’t wish to finish her statement but she was sure everyone caught her meaning. If it would buy them a few extra minutes, then the dead would forgive her.

    “You know your stations, get moving soldiers. The Sirens will be here bringing them in droves as they find them. Let’s be ready for them when they do.” The Angels were quick to follow orders as a familiar cry broke Blu’s concentration. “Blu!” She had enough time to turn before her ribs were being suddenly crushed in the arms of one Pilot Tamia Rhinau.

    She hugged the younger woman back and pet her hair. “It’s alright, Mia. Take a deep breath and shake it off.” Blu pulled back and moved to clasp the redhead’s hands when she saw the dirty and mangled bandaging on them.

    “Come on, Mia. Let’s get those bandaged up and you can tell me what happened, yeah?”

    Blu brooked no room for argument as she slung an arm over Mia’s shoulders and marched her off to the side. The work was quick, clean, and even cathartic. Just what she needed to keep her mind running nice and steady. Blue eyes remained focused on the task at hand even as her Butterfly Girl sat and recounted everything with Blu kneeling in front of her. When she was finished, the Amristah commander hugged the closest person she had to being a daughter, whispered encouragements in her ear, and reminded her they all still had a job to do. Faltering was not an option. They had to keep going or people would die. It was not what Mia wanted to hear then; it was not what Blu wanted to say. But it was what needed saying and what needed doing.

    While Mia bounced off with perhaps a bit less pep in her usual step to complete her own set of orders, Blu Moon remained still and hesitant. Then, with surprising determination she quietly cupped her hands in front of her, palms up, and with her forearms pressed against her ribs. She did something then that she had not done since the war; she prayed.

    Setenga stipolé, protégez-le et veillez sur lui. Aidez-le à retrouver son chemin chez lui en toute sécurité. Vebeset, ne le laissez pas vaciller. Accorde-lui un peu de tes méfaits et de ta ruse pour rentrer chez toi en toute sécurité. Dieux tous les deux, prenez-le par la main afin qu'il soit placé parmi les étoiles impérissables et qu'il ne meurt jamais.

    Unable to press herself into the mud and filth with wounded to care for right afterward, Blu finished her prayers and hunkered her body into a tight curl with her hands raised above her head in one last desperate and open offering. ‘J'ai déjà perdu une Hyakinthos sur ma montre. Stipolé, si vous avez la pitié, ne me laissez pas perdre un autre.

    Heeding her own advice, she took a deep breath, centred herself, and got back to her feet. She had a job to do, same as everyone else. Yavul, bless his heart, was going to have to do the rest for himself. There was nothing more that she could do for him. His life was in the hands of the gods now, just as the lives of others were now in hers.

    17
    Communication / To Pilot Cardinal Wright, From Pilot Cardinal Bannister
    « on: October 16, 2018, 06:53:08 pm »
    12:01 AM
    Happy Birthday, Matthew

    18
    Aedolis Characters / Pilot Echo Joseph B. Tucker
    « on: October 13, 2018, 02:19:54 am »
    __________________QUICK STATS
    Name Joseph B. Tucker
    Alias Tuck
    Age 42
    DOB April 3rd
    Gender Male
    Sexuality Pansexual for submission <.<
    Species Human
    Ethnicity Aedolian
    Height 6'1"
    Occupation Pilot Echo; Seeker
    Residence Haviah, Aedolis
    Voiceclaim Barry White

    Playlist: Warning May Contain Explicit or Mature Lyrics and Themes

    __________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

    Physical Description

    Joseph has a brawny, triangular shape to him with large, broad shoulders, a narrower waist, and muscular thighs. He has darkly tanned skin and is covered in even darker, thick body hair. His hair is kept shaved close and he has a medium amount of stubble across his cheeks and chin. Joseph definitely has a rugged, scruffy appearance about him.

    He does sport a couple noticeable scars including a squiggly pink line high on his forehead above his left eye as well as a harder to notice on and under his bottom lip just left of center. Joseph’s right ribs also have four stripes of thin scars that wrap across his ass and end across the top of his right thigh right by the inside of his knee.

    When not in uniform, he is usually in workout clothes or jeans with a button up and a vest. He has several piercings, only one of which can be seen without him taking his clothes off (his tongue). Joseph has a sleeve of tattoos on both arms which he usually keeps covered unless with the right company. His left arm depicts images of tasteful bondage and eroticism while his right arm follows a more macabre theme with skulls and bare, twisted trees.

    Personality

    ALPHA MALE
    Joseph is a whirlwind in his own right. He’s an intense, possessive man and a giant asshole. He has very high standards set not only for himself but for others as well. Failure to meet those standards is met with sneers and ridicule. If you can’t keep up with him then that’s your own fucking fault and he’ll gladly leave you behind without a second thought. This applies to everything too whether it be his personal life or his work. Fall behind. Left behind.

    CONTROL FREAK
    Every aspect of his life is about control. He likes to be in charge and he likes things being orderly to an extent. His brand of chaos may not make sense to anyone else but that’s really none of your business when he changes the rules now is it? It is a wonder he even made it through his candidacy. By all rights he shouldn’t have thanks to his personality. It is only because of his psionic abilities and his control of them that he was able to progress. However, for this reason among others, Joseph will never advance beyond Echo rank and remains heavily monitored and even at times restricted in where he can go or what he can do.

    REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE
    Joseph is also a loud mouth. He’s always got something to bitch about, including the system that employs him and takes care of him. It’s never been enough to make him “disappear” but it has certainly gotten him in trouble enough to spend most of his days doing desk work with the occasional tight-leashed mission. He is not allowed around candidates. He’ll butt heads with superiors if he feels they’re being stupid in their approach and he spares no common courtesies for his colleagues either.

    WORK HARD, PLAY HARD
    That being said, he is quite capable at doing his job and does enjoy being sent out on missions when he’s allowed. Since graduation he has been working on controlling some of his nasty temper by throwing himself into both his work and his hobbies. If he keeps busy then his chaos can be contained to his own little bubble. When he’s not working, he’s working out, and when he’s not working out....well he’s probably working someone.

    Things
    • Loves to listen to alternative rock music. Usually is jamming out to something while doing his workouts.
    • Complete and utter gymrat. Prefers weight lifting and boxing to anything else.
    • Has several tie-hangers filled with his collection of different belts and buckles. His current favorite is a black leather studded one with a fanged bat mouth buckle.
    • Likes dark, bitter beers and smokes like a house on fire.
    • Dominant. <.<

    Magic/Abilities

    Telepathy: Joseph is a strong telepath capable of shielding his mind extensively from intrusion or interrogation. It is for this reason that he has been used on occasion by both the Seeker and Inquiry departments on select cases.

    Telekinesis: This is Joseph’s main ability. His telekinetic strength is equal to his physical strength which is also why he is always working on becoming stronger. His range is also impressively far. As long as he maintains concentration he can hold multiple objects at a time indefinitely as well. Joseph has complete control of this ability as long as his anger is in check though. Rage does have a tendency to make him lose focus and there have been accidents in the past because of this.

    Relationships

    Joan Archer: His estranged daughter. Until recently he had not seen her since she was a young child. She really wants nothing to do with him and for the most part he is seemingly unphased by that.

    Biserckre: Joseph’s sadistic dragon. She keeps Joseph on an extremely tight leash when in the field and otherwise ignores him when it suits her mood. She has also been known to lock Joseph out of his network connection randomly and without cause. He’s learned to curb some of his tongue since candidacy thanks to her “training.”

    History

    Just another asshole from the ganglife of Aurora. Nothing to see here.

    __________________THREAD TRACKER
    Current Threads

    Complete Threads

    Timeline

    19
    Margad / Bad Apple Remix [nephero] [M!!!] [TW]
    « on: October 09, 2018, 04:48:33 pm »
    Trigger Warnings for mentions of past potentially graphic abuse and suicide.

    He was back.

    Joan Archer was a burning ball of anxiety and bullheaded determination. She had just finished a round of sims when checking her com revealed a name that filled her throat with bile and made her shoulders tense in anger. Jonah Cole was back on active duty and in his office. And it was about stars-damned time she and he and a very long discussion. Her foot bounced like a jackhammer as she worked up the courage to do the right thing, to make the move to initiate all the things that needed saying. Joan was no coward. She knew she needed to do this and she wasn't going to let herself be the victim once more.

    Cole, she had called him in the public chatroom. She had never even called him by his last name to his face. It was always Jonesy, Jonah, The Jonesman, or her particular favorite, GhostBoss. It had always been him who had addressed her by her surname and never her first. Now though how the tables were turned as she marched up with purposeful strides to his office.

    Once at his door, Joan paced up and down the hall waiting for Ellis to be freed from the conversation going on behind closed doors. Even when she came out she did nothing more than bob a greeting of her head to him before storming up to the open door and rapping sharply on it.

    "Permission to enter, Pilot Cole?"

    Her eyes bored into him as she addressed him in an uncharacteristicall y formal manner with her back straight and hands clasped behind her back. Only once she had been granted the right to enter did she quietly shut the door and move to stand in front one of the "guest" chairs although she did not take a seat. Instead she gripped the back of it with a tight, white-knuckled grip of both hands. "I believe we have a very serious matter to discuss, starting with an explanation on your part," she bite out between clenched teeth that made the muscle of her jaw bulge.

    20
    The Libra / The Devil's Bleeding Crown [Nephero]
    « on: October 03, 2018, 04:46:55 pm »
    Three months to the day and Dashiell found himself caught in an unsettling situation of déjà vu. Everything from shining his boots to standing before the military tribunal with their long-winded speeches was the same. And yet he wasn't sure that previously he felt the same measure of tensed calm before the storm that he did now. His uniform was tight and itchy. Distractedly he wondered if he had used too much soap in the wash and not gotten it properly rinsed out.

    Or maybe it wasn't the uniform. Maybe it was the room. Since when were the temperature controls allowed to get this high? Had there been a malfunction? He tugged gently at his collar and swallowed thickly before allowing his nervous, clammy hands to clasp loosely in front of him. It just was so fucking hot! How was he even expected to concentrate on what the tribunal was
    saying when the room was sweltering?

    "...in light of these events and after much deliberation, we have come to the conclusion that the only viable course of action regarding the currently suspended Solo pilot, Dashiell Merriwether Feldspar, despite the warnings and concerns of members of this tribunal, is to reinstate him, effective immediately. However, should this tribunal have cause to encounter the aforementioned pilot and reconvene on any matters relating to his volatile and dangerous nature then he will be stripped of all honors, dishonorably discharged, and sentenced to a minimum of thirty years in prison with no chance of parole. As head of this tribunal I call this hearing terminated. Lieutenant Feldspar you are free to go. You may recollect your confiscated weaponry once you have completed the required paperwork."

    The sound of the gavel was like a gunshot to Dashiell's heart. While his elders shuffled up and out, he remained frozen for several minutes, still trying to process it all. It hadn't been with flying colors but he had actually done it. He had gotten his job back. He had earned their trust enough to reinstate him and he was now free to return to his old life. But, did he want to?

    The sudden wave of disappointment he had initially felt at the news was terrifyingly shocking to him. Hadn't he wanted this? He tried to think about it objectively. Flying was his life. It was all he had ever wanted to do for as long as he could remember, long before Reese, the accident, the fights, Nicodemo.

    The memory of warm kitchens and brewed tea drew a smile to Dashiell's lips finally as he saluted the room and made his required exit. If he returned to office then perhaps he could see more of a certain prickly knight. That alone almost made it worth the lonely slog getting back into the groove was going to be. But, there was an underlying concern that he was sure was part of the council's hesitance as well; would he slip so easily back into old patterns once set free in his old stomping grounds? Not even Dashiell could say. As much as he hated the old adage it seemed only time would tell.

    Thoughts of time and worries and the garrulousness of crotchety, old windbags were all forgotten in an instant at the sight of a certain someone. Dashiell straightened his posture and lifted his chin seriously to the other figure before snorting and shaking his head. There was no need for posturing here. Nicodemo had seen enough of Dashiell's vile soul to know the truth of who he was.

    "Slacker!" he barked to the Knight, striding close but refraining from embracing them this time. "What are you skulking about here for? Don't you Knights have jobs to do or something," he teased, although his head dipped low and his expression softened. He wasn't so alone in this after all.

    He was interrupted from saying more as a sudden pinch to the back of his real ribs caused him to twitch slightly and his face to form a serious mask once again. "I suppose congratulations are in order Lieutenant Feldspar. I didn't expect you to succeed. Clearly you managed to learn something from me after all," the tall and broad-shoulder woman at Dashiell's elbow said.

    "Are you going to introduce me to your friend or is he another one of your delinquent influences?"

    The male werewolf ground his teeth together and squared his shoulders so tensely it was a miracle he didn't tear himself in two with the effort not to cause a scene. "Thank you, Colonel. May I introduce Nicodemo del-Nestore, one of Libra Station's most dedicated Knights."

    "Ah yes," she declared with a self-satisfied smirk as she quite obviously looked them up and down. "The man my son assaulted. You'll have to forgive me, but I was under the impression you were a cripple. It's good to see you on your feet even if you are rather far from your sector.

    "I must say though it is so kind of you to have forgiven Dashiell for the attack. Had it been me, I would have ensured he was rendered completely incapable of hurting anyone else ever again. It's a shame really he never took to my lessons growing up. He would have been a much better man had he heeded my advice. I wrote off most of his stunts with that Duo girl as childish rebellions but clearly I was not hard enough on him. My husband has always been too soft on him you see," she laughed. "He lacks the conviction to punish a child and thereby has led us to raise a rather spoiled and undisciplined manchild. We are so proud," Colonel Feldspar stated venomously.

    "Perhaps though this new chance will be just what he needs to whip him into proper shape finally. Although I won't be holding my breath."

    The more she talked, the more Dashiell's eyes clouded. It was as if a great raincloud had suddenly arrived and smothered the spark within him. In under a mere handful of minutes she had managed to completely humiliate him and strip him of any dignity and pride he might have felt in front of Nicodemo. No topic was ever safe with her after all. She was never happy and never satisfied. Why would now be any different? His failures were only another reminder of how close he could get to marring her perfect records and ruining her career by association. She was nothing if not cutthroat and the fact that Dashiell was the blood of her blood meant nothing in the face of her future.

    Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 6
    SimplePortal 2.3.5 © 2008-2012, SimplePortal