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Dapper Genius

The Retired Boogieman
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                  █ Played by: Nergalitos
                  █ Name: Dmitri Ussuri
                  █ Age: 59
                  █ Gender: Male
                  █ Power: Molecular Decomposition
                  █ Background: The Myasnik is an urban legend of New Forge. A legend born of heresay and conflicting eyewitness reports, a monster who preyed upon the streets some twenty years ago, taking people and making them disappear, never to be heard from again. But despite what legend says, the truth is very different. Dmitri Ussuri may allegedly be tied to the name of the Myasnik, but now he is simply Doctor Ussuri. He fixes problems, heals injured peoples, and even -if the need is dire and the pay is good- makes them disappear. He does not discriminate, and it is rare he refuses. With the bedside manner of a corpse and a sense of humor as dark as his past, he is a figure of extremely dubious morality. But at least he'll get the job done.
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Dapper Genius

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Freya Rae Burkhart

The Lieutenant
"I do love a good workout. Let's see which of us breaks a sweat first."

    -- The Basic Facts

          Call it Out: Lieutenant, Freya, Burkhart. Ma'am.
          When I Grow Up...: 28
          This is Who I Am: The Viper
          Don't Look!: Female
          Happy Birthday to Me: January 3rd
          All You Need is Love Bisexual
          I have my Uses: I have enhanced flexibility, as a result of serpentine joints. The joints in my body are conditioned to allow for me to stretch, twist, and conform myself to what would normally be impossible to the normal human body. As well, I am capable of taking force better than most, being able to allow simple strikes to reverberate through my body and lessen the overall impact. I will still be hurt just the same, of course, but it tends to help me keep up my progress. I am also, as a result, capable of dislocating and relocating parts of my body out of place with minimal pain.
          Another ability, as a result of my genetic snake-like qualities, is the ability to spit venom. A curious mutation I was born with has caused me to develop a specific gland within my jaws that produces and stores a poisonous solution typically found in species of cobra and viper. It typically causes severe skin irritation, as well as temporary blindness if spat into the eyes and -if injected into the bloodstream- severe pain and possibly even permanent paralysis unless treated. I am also capable of unhinging my jaw, as I need to do so in order to give the gland in my mouth a straight shot.

          As well, I am well-versed in martial arts, as well as acrobatics and general anatomic knowledge due to extensive training.

    -- Look a little Deeper Into my Life

          Just a Bit of Me:
          Well, since you asked. Intelligent, ruthless -some call me cold blooded- and perhaps more than a little vain, I am very much capable of setting a strong presence when I need to. My job demands capability and I deliver. Of course, I am capable of being more than just a hardass as well. Sensuality and seduction are tools of the trade I can use, as well as being critical and sarcastic. While my attitude toward a situation does tend to depend on the job at hand, I'm not a terrible human being when I'm not being paid to be one. I always adore a challenge, and indeed, my attitude to pursue a hurdle until I can pass over it does tend to apply to personal as well as professional pursuits.

          Trust is a difficulty for me, as treachery tends to come with the job, but the rare individual or two who happen to have my trust can most certainly believe in it. It's just a matter of expressing that trust that I have difficulty with.
          Sometimes I Enjoy Myself:
          • Combat, always gets the blood pumping.
          • Coffee, it's also a great pick-me-up.
          • Money. Preferably in large bills.
          • Dresses. Can't deny a girl her dreams.
          • Heat. I'm very good at adapting to it.
          • Pursuit of a goal. I do love the chase.
          Other Times, I Don't:
          • Cold. Comes with the genes.
          • Being belittled. You're likely to get a boot to the throat that way.
          • People who don't stop yapping. I prefer to be concise.
          • Magic tricks. Magicians are cheats and liars, all of them.
          • Not getting paid. I'll get murderous.
          Sometimes, I Have Nightmares:
          My position in life is one she's worked hard to achieve, even with it's ups and downs. Losing my place, losing what's made me what I am...The thought is terrifying.
          I Hate You:
          Paul Neville. A yappy wizard who kills people without thinking. We'll not get along.
          You Mustn't Tell:
          I has a bit of a problem with cold. My serpentine genes have left me with a counter-intuitive little response to cold climates. My body gets sluggish, my mind and senses dull, and given long enough, I'll pass out in a hibernation-like response.

          As well, I'm still fairly human. I won't be taking on Mike Tyson for ten rounds anytime soon.

    -- What You'll Need to Understand

          It all Started When:Born in the city of Kiev, in the Ukraine, I was the second daughter in a family of five. Life when I was young was...difficult, to say the least. My loving mother was convinced that I was some nebulous symbol of good fortune , that I was to become something great. I always presumed she was just stupidly superstitious. Being born in the a**-end of the Soviet control of Ukraine tends to ensure one has a childhood full of fun things like famine, poverty and death. Especially when your final daughter is born with...well, snake genes. My father died when I was ten, my second brother and sister when I was twelve. Finally, when my first brother died, my mother's seemingly bulletproof belief in my being a walking good omen began to turn rapidly, and I found myself suddenly viewed as the Viper who had bitten the Farmer and all his crops. Well, her crops, this was my mother's self-centered mind we're discussing. Needless to say, my doting mother and all her favoritism went right out the window, and I soon found myself experiencing the delights of being denied food, education, and affection at fifteen.
          When I was old enough -or could say I was old enough and look it- I left my home and left on a train to god-knew-where. I legitimately couldn't read where it was going. I could speak Ukrainian, Russian, and a little English. All I really had was good looks and a hope that wherever I was would be better than where I was.

          Turns out it was, but not in the way I suspected.
          I found myself in Germany, and after an incredibly uncomfortable period of living in squalor and poverty, I managed to find myself a job. And no, it wasn't a hooker, so don't bother.
          I became a criminal. Well, more correctly, an assistant to a criminal. I'd learned to scrap in my time in the shittier parts of Germany, and was able to impress a man with a particular interest in the possibilities of my natural flexibility and the little ability to spit venom in people's eyes. His name was Mordecai, and he was a particularly ambitious man looking to make his way up to the heights of organized crime anywhere. Really, I was far more fascinated with the idea of being able to actually eat and sleep in a place that didn't smell of stale urine.

          So I became the Viper. The things I did for Mordecai were cruel and relentless, but as long as I was being paid I didn't exactly have room to object. He wanted me to break people that got in his way, and I did so. He wanted me to lure some poor shmuck to his inevitable doom, and I strutted my stuff. I certainly knew what I was doing was wrong of course, but in the end I just didn't care. I enjoyed the challenge. The thrill. The lifestyle.
          It was just the best option. Mordecai loved my work, and paid me well for it. His other superhumans were respectably cold and vicious as well, but none of them seemed to have the flare or symbolic terror of the Viper, always hanging in the backdrop. Mordecai Avido's shadow loomed high over Germany, France, Poland. He had operations almost everywhere, in everything. It seemed like nobody could stop him, and I distinctly remembered thinking that no one would be foolish enough to try.

          Then I met Stillwater. And Captain Slattery.
          It was a cold night, as I recall. I had draped up in a parka, in a foul mood thanks to the veritable ******** blizzard that had come up out of nowhere. Mordecai had been having difficulty with a budding group of young, ambitious dumbasses who had decided that spitting in Avido's face was the best way to get street cred and use it to start moving in on his business. They were having a party that night, a big Thanksgiving dinner that had everyone dressed up in their sunday best.
          In hindsight, it should have been obvious the entire thing was a setup. But Mordecai had been so enraged he'd been practically turned stupid by the insult the punks had dealt him, and I was just too cold to really care.

          We moved in, so many of Mordecai's best and brightest ready to lay down a smackdown so hard it would redefine 'Overkill' in every language his operations were involved in.
          At least, that had been the plan.

          Suddenly, out of nowhere, we were in the middle of being attacked. And I don't just mean a group of clever cops or punks who went too far like the ones we were dealing with.
          Guns blazing, armor and gas mask s**t. Mordecai dropped like a sack of bricks fairly quick, and I -needing no further encouragement- booked it.
          My hunter pursued.
          We played our game of cat and mouse for a good while, my agility and stamina put to the test, and the damn mercenary's own persistence and grit making it incredibly difficult to lose him. It wasn't until I had gotten tired of running that I decided to set my own trap. I made my way back to my -admittedly lavish- apartment, and soon enough, my foe stalked me there. I must've looked greedy, trying to take my money and skip town.

          We fought. I broke ribs, he smashed my face, and shot a good amount of my room.Eventually, he won. Staring down the barrel of a gun, my entirely-too-short life soon to be reduced to being found in a puddle of blood in a ruined apartment, I found myself entirely aware -and at peace with- that I would likely die.
          And then my Hunter -who introduced himself as Francis Slattery- offered me a job. He didn't need to ask twice, and I don't think he would have anyway. I accepted a position in Stillwater, and -after a good amount of work- found myself working directly with the man who had very nearly once killed me.
          I don't hold a grudge, of course. They pay well.

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Dapper Genius

The Viper
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                  █ Played by: Nergalitos
                  █ Name: Freya Burkhart
                  █ Age: 28
                  █ Gender: Female
                  █ Power: Flexibility/Spitting Venom
                  █ Background: Freya Burkhart is a woman who loves a challenge. A member of the Stillwater mercenary group, as well as the second-in-command to it's leader Francis Slattery, she's perfectly willing to bring the cold hard hand of order to New Forge at the promise of a fat paycheck.
                  Hell, she'll even enjoy it.
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Dapper Genius

      I love the chase 'til the minute I win it,
      A beautiful face 'til there's love for me in it.
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          Freya Burkhart - The Lieutenant

Location:Rooftops of New Forge
Currently: Preparing for a new job
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      Give me your heart, and baby I'll bill it.
      'Cuz I always kill the things I love.
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Dapper Genius

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          betrayers██║ ↳ Logan Bridger THE ELF

                          ↳ [ Eighty-Nine ]
                          ↳ [ Male ]
                          ↳ [ Elf ]
                          ↳ [ Brown ]
                          ↳ [ Brown ]

                          BASIC CHARACTERISTICS

                                Charming - Logan's pleasant smile and nigh unflappable attitude make him quite a charismatic individual. He's a smooth talker, and can sell a good story.
                                Fantastic - As comes with making himself a grand mercenary, Logan tends to act with a grand nature. Logan revels in being the center of attention, despite his skillset as a long-ranged shooter.
                                Self-Serving - Logan's indulgent lifestyle makes him very prone to examining situations with an eye for how to get through it with the best ending for him, and the best spin to put to that. He tends to be loyal where money and life is concerned.
                                Illusive - Logan's life story is very much an autobiography, and as such a lot of details and 'facts' of his life tend to contradict with one-another or just get overlooked, a result of both a healthy embellishing spirit and an easily adjustable story in case of need.

                          PERSONAL LIKES

                                ● Good alcohol
                                ● The pursuit of women
                                ● His own 'legend'
                                ● Shooting, of course.
                                ● Being the center of attention

                          PERSONAL DISLIKES

                                ● Poor manners
                                ● What follows the pursuit of women
                                ● Cheapskates
                                ● Melee combat
                                ● The overly inquisitive

                          PERSONAL HISTORY

                                ● While Logan's personal description of the events of his life vary from telling to telling, this is not entirely without reason. Born of humble beginnings of a blacksmith family, Logan -then known as Isaac Walters- and the rest of his family moved from a far away land to seek out a much better life in this one, and bringing with them the most potentially profitable item in their wake: The Flintlock Rifle.

                                Settling in a nearby coastal town, the Walters family began to set to work. Sales were initially slow and trickling, as a result of distrust of the foreign smiths and their alien weaponry, and while some curious individuals did purchase them on occasion, it became clear that the market for these flintlock rifles was one that would be rather difficult to make a name with, at least not without some sort of representation. An advertisement, of sorts, to demonstrate the capability and deadliness of the rifle.

                                Isaac immediately stepped up the prospect. Already proficient enough with the rifle's use as well as construction, it wasn't hard to take up a small mercenary job under the alias of Logan Bridger. A simple job, hunting some nearby bandit gang that had been the cause of a significant amount of trouble for the town. Logan's curious weapon drawing a lot of skeptical jeering from the other few mercenaries present, given it's foreign nature.
                                However, Logan was not a man to take an insult lightly. While the rest of his group spent their time sneaking into position to attack the bandit camp, Logan set up from a good distance and began to get to work. A small crack from several dozen yards was what started the attack. Of the ten bandits present, Logan had put down a total of three of them, by virtue primarily of haivng two rifles with him at the end. The mercenaries with him were quite surprised by the accuracy of the rifles, and asked for information regarding them. Logan, of course, pointed to his family.

                                Thus began Logan Bridger's mercenary career. He traveled from city to city, preforming mercenary work and indulging himself in the pleasures of the town before making sure to make an advertisement when questioned on his own rifle. His adventures were many, and some even difficult. From bandit raids to invading monsters, and even to the occasional instance of marksmanship contests, Logan Bridger bounced around the world quite rapidly, and his name -and the creators of his signature flintlock rifle- became the talk of many. Logan lost his eye at the ripe age of seventy-eight, in a duel with an individual who had claimed to be the actual Logan Bridger, but lost when put to the test.

                                Every few years, Logan made his return to the family shop, primarily for updates and ideas as well as ensuring his own family's health and wellness. It only made sense, after all, for a man of such self-arranged celebrity to visit the very shop he had purchased his signature weapon from.
                                To say they were doing well in the wake of his advertised scheme was, of course, an understatement. Business had boomed, and with even the King's notice, it seemed that the Walters family was going to go down in history! With several years having passed, the design of the rifle did too. The Matchlock was born, a rifle with multiple cylindered barrels that could each be loaded individually with powder and bullet and allowed for multiple shots to be fired. Logan's rifle -and consequently his effectiveness- skyrocketed, and his new, future endeavors consequently became even better. He went on a further trip around the realm, this time bringing his new-and-improved matchlock with him. Wine, women, and glory followed, as usual.

                                It was then he met the plagiarists. Men and women had picked up the use of the Flintlock, of course, but it was always easy to tell the design of his family's weapon. Simple, effective, and sturdy, but these new weapons were different. They were cheap, poorly designed, and sincerely lacking in the craftsmanship of his own family's rifles.
                                Logan was offended. No, he was more than offended. He was appalled. His mission became clear, to find the individual responsible for these atrocities and to shut them down.
                                Unfortunately, it seemed, the King had already done so. And not only that, in a move that even Logan had to confess was smart, the King arranged for the weapons used by the pirate king Trigger to be used by his own forces against the rising demon threat. And while Logan couldn't deny using the leverage of jail time to ensure one's own forces were bolstered, a matter personal pride -and a familial pride- caused him to refuse to simply let this stand. He made his own appointment with the King on this matter, requesting -though the more sensitive among his advisers might have claimed he was demanding- an opportunity to prove that the Matchlock Rifles produced by his personal craftsmen were far, far better than the cheap and pathetic substitutes crafted by some criminal plagiarists, after all.

                                And so, Logan found himself in the King's employ, prepared to fight for not just his own honor, but the honor of his family.

                          SKILLS & ABILITIES

                                The Elven - The attunement to nature possesed by the Elven is something Logan still possesses, being able to move quickly and quietly through forests and land. His vision, one-eye be damned, is still quite better than that of your typical human. Despite being in his eighties, Logan looks to be in his late twenties.
                                Charisma - Logan's smooth-talking nature has allowed him ample time to learn the subtleties of convincing people to aid him, allowing him a little edge in conversations. He's also a fantastic taunter, good at getting people riled up.
                                The Matchlock - Logan's signature weapon, a rifle loaded for bear with an eight-shot cylinder that requires some time to reload, even despite Logan's practiced hand. It spins on a lever pulled from the bottom in order to allow for shooting as fast as Logan can work the mechanism.
                                Dodging - When it comes down to it, using a rifle is still a long-range profession. Close-range fighting is not Logan's forte, and as such he's quite good at getting out of the way long enough to ensure he can get a shot off.
                                The Tracker - Having taken up traveling on the road, and shooting people from long distances in a comfortable position, Logan's quite an adept hunter and tracker. He's quite knowledgable in tracks and herbalism.
                                Herbalism - As stated, Logan's pretty good with herbs and plants. He has rudimentary knowledge of how to make salves to cure wounds and stop bleeding, as well as knowledge of what plants to avoid. He can't make anything crazy, but he can at least patch you up and make sure you aren't itchy.

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Dapper Genius

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              OGAN RIDGER

              this is ten percent luck,
              twenty percent skill,
              fifteen percent concentrated
              p o w e rx o fx w i l l

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                    five percent pleasure,
                    fifty percent pain,
                    and a hundred percent reason
                    t ox r e m e m b e rx t h ex n a m e
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Dapper Genius

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                                                                          NAME Lucina Ferinal
                                                                          AGE Twenty-Seven
                                                                          GENDER Female
                                                                          RACE Human
                                                                          AFFILIATION Merchant's Guild
                                                                          ROLE The Pretender

                                                                                  Lucina hails from a stained line of traitors to the throne. Her grandfather, half a century ago, attempted and failed to host a coup to take the throne for his own ambitions, and was killed for it. Ambition, however, skips a generation, and Lucina has taken advantage of what little sway her family name and family contacts hold to bring herself back from the merchant republics of her exile to take the kingdom she believes should be in her family's hands, whether a royal a** sits on the throne or not.

                                                                          HEIGHT 5'6
                                                                          WEIGHT 136lbs

                                                                                  Lucina is a woman of proud bearing and stature. She stands tall as her height can allow, with a gaze directed always ahead, her facial features intense and focused. Her body is lithe and toned from her training, her muscles not much to speak of but still present in her sleek form. Her black hair is short and layered, a personal preference more than any sort of fashion statement, which draws attention to her eyes, an almost murky blue that belies the intensity that is frequently found in her gaze. She frequently dresses in boots, male's slacks and shirts that hug her frame, allowing her lithe body a surprising range of motion and keeping her able to always make a grab at the elaborate rapier with her belt. The sleek weapon has a swept hilt in the style of the Vensan Merchant's Republic. She possesses an elaborate, dull blue design of Arcane tribal tattoos that begins at her back, spreading outward to curl around her arms and legs all the way to both her palms and the balls of her feet. All in all, her clothes, hair and presence in general speak both for practicality and pride.

                                                                          SPEED 7
                                                                          STRENGTH 3
                                                                          STAMINA 4
                                                                          INTELLIGENCE 8
                                                                          MAGIC 7
                                                                          CHARISMA 5

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                                                                          LIKES Success, dominance, combat, war, good conversation and fine wine.
                                                                          DISLIKES Arrogance, cowardice, conspiracy, archery and being diminished.

                                                                          Lucina's noble blood is very rich indeed. Despite the stain of her grandfather's actions, Lucina very much recognizes that the name Ferinal was once a name to be held in regard and fear, and holds herself like the noblewoman that would be expected from her family. Sharpened by life and political experience, and tempered by the discrimination of men in power, Lucina's pride does not cross into arrogance, and is something she will kill without hesitation to protect.

                                                                          Lucina is not the type of woman for courtroom intrigue. She speaks her mind, speaks it plain, and finds that the only use for a silver tongue is that it be cut out and sold. Lucina's direct and aggressive style makes her seem a little overbearing to those who expect a certain subtlety and mystique from the fairer sex, but Lucina considers that an advantage herself.

                                                                          Lucina's aggressive nature and proud bearing do not make her a fool, however. She is just as capable of reading individuals and taking note of their personalities and styles. Having grown used to the political dance of the Merchant Republics, she knows full well to expect duplicity and ambition from the many high-society figures, and can do so very well when putting pressure on them just the same. As well, she is very adept in reading body language and making quick decisions in the case of a conflict, as well as identifying weaknesses and strengths from small details.

                                                                          Lucina has not made it as far as she has in life by being obedient and following the advice of her elders. She has the strong will of her tribal mother, and puts it to use to ensure she can damn well get what she wants if she wants it. Her tenacity makes her a force to be reckoned with in both combat and debate, refusing to back down despite dangerously poor odds. While she is not fool enough to willingly step into an unwinnable situation, she is of the belief that one can only lose if they do not try.

                                                                          A woman does not make far with the intent of taking over a kingdom without developing a sense of ruthlessness. Indeed, Lucina is a woman with little hesitation when it comes to conflict, be it to defend her honor or crush an opponent. She is very well aware that to make an effort at her goal without the stomach for bloodshed and dirty business is an effort wasted, and as such does not shy away from the possibility of having to kill, humiliate and otherwise crush her competition if it comes down to it. She is willing to acknowledge the wisdom in subtlety, of course, but it doesn't mean she agrees with it. In truth, it would be much simpler in her mind to simply grind her opponents underneath her heel and keep walking.

                                                                          Lucina's story begins not with her, but with her grandfather, Reginald Ferinal, an ambitious and intelligent noble who one day decided that the throne ought to belong to his family. He pulled from various sources, planned with great trepidation, and when the time came, was completely and utterly ruined in his efforts to take the throne for his own. He was found guilty of treason, and was summarily executed in what ultimately became a laughably short coup attempt.

                                                                          For the Ferinal line, however, this was generations of nobility uprooted, a name stained black with treason. Reginald's family was forced into exile in the Maritime Republics of the far west. Reginald's daughter, Margery Ferinal, stayed in the political game of the Merchant Republic of Vensan, refusing to let a simple thing as exile stop her from enjoying a lavish lifestyle.
                                                                          Reginald’s son, Matthew, on the other hand, was content to go off on his own, meeting and eventually marrying a tribal woman, and having a daughter in a content, and happy life. That daughter he named Lucina.

                                                                          With her father's proud heritage and intelligence intermingling with her mother's blunt nature and unstoppable persistence, Lucina was from a young age much more fascinated with her father's own dynasty, rather than her mother's tribal heritage. Her mother's efforts to instill in her the knowledge and wisdom of her own people failed in comparison to the wild ambitions and dreams of nobility her father's heritage could provide. Eventually, when she came of age at sixteen, Lucina herself went out to find her family’s descendants living in exile.

                                                                          Margery Ferinal, now Margery Amell, was who she found. Margery herself had little love for the expansive history and previous prestige of the family name, so when Lucina herself arrived as a young teenager with curious tattoos and a wild, unrefined attitude, it made complete sense that Margery thought that her visitor was nothing more than an urchin trying to blackmail her with her maiden name.
                                                                          Lucina’s claims to the Ferinal name were met with derision and doubt, which only made her angrier. Instead of acting refined and taking the doubt like any noble woman might have, Lucina’s response was yelling and angered demands.The resemblance to her grandfather, indignant as the teenage girl was, gave Margery all she needed to take back her doubts. Claiming to be ‘humoring’ the young Lucina, she decided to take her under her wing and teach her as much as she could.

                                                                          A fortnight later, Matthew Ferinal himself made an appearance at the Amell estate.. Margery and Matthew spoke in private, the two of them given equal parts surprise and interest at the young Ferinal’s progress and persistence. While Margery had held little interest in the Ferinal name when she got married, it did not mean that she didn’t wish to see the name prosper once more. The decision was made that Margery would continue to provide for Lucina’s education while Matthew would work to discover the old contacts of his father, in hopes that the name might still hold some sway.

                                                                          Years passed, and Lucina received education in matters of politics, war, strategy, history. A noble’s education. She took upon herself to learn to defend herself, utilizing her magical experience and adapting it to the formal dueling style present in the Vensan Merchant Republic. Margery Amell’s efforts to instill her niece with the same political poise and style of the Vensan nobility, however, fell flat. Lucina was bold, brash, and smart. While she was certainly known for a brutish method of negotiation, however, it was still negotiation.

                                                                          Knowing full well that to continue drawing from the Amell estate’s pockets would eventually come to backfire, at the age of twenty-two Lucina set off to make her own funding. The Merchant Lord Galvoni Shivales was in the process of establishing a quick, four year expedition into parts known for magical mysteries and untapped artifacts, and Lucina Ferinal offered – with Margery Amell’s gracious deposit – to support and work with the expedition.
                                                                          The young woman, with a fire in her eyes and an iron grip on her rapier, made for an excellent addition to the expedition due to a mix of magical aptitude and her own intelligence. Four years of traveling along the coasts to ruins ancient and historical for the – flamboyantly stated – act of plundering, and Lucina returned, tempered by experience both in leadership and confrontation. The fire that still burned in her gaze had acquired a length of steel to add to its intensity, and when Lucina returned to the Amell estate to find Margery and her father waiting, she was quite able to pay back her aunt’s generosity, and was awarded with a particularly juicy detail that had very recently come to pass.

                                                                          The King of Rhoaria had died. Not only that, but the country’s political landscape had exploded in response. Factions vied for new forms of government, and the idea of a monarchy was fast losing its appeal with the probability of power and choice on the horizon. Lucina’s interest was minimal, and she was halfway out of the estate before the two elder Ferinals had to bring her back to avoid her making a rash choice.

                                                                          Matthew and Margery, in Lucina’s four years at sea, had acquired a lengthy list of contacts and associates that could still be counted on. The Merchant’s Guild in Rhoaria was host to a few individuals who could back her efforts at laying claim to the Throne, however, it would not be a monarchy, but a council of individuals with whom Lucina would support and rule. Despite her initial indignation at the idea of having to abandon the family plans, it was Margery’s words that ultimately convinced her: “Your grandfather had laid those plans. And only the presumptuous plan, dear Lucina,” she had stated. “You have spent enough time at sea to know that the course must sometimes change, and the wise man is the one steering the boat, not charting its course.”
                                                                          It took another six months of pooling funds, resources, and favors, but eventually Lucina was finally able to make it to Rhoaria, eager to begin her family’s conquest of the country anew.

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                                                                          TYPE Arcane (Tattoo Focus)

                                                                          SKILLS Lucina's arcane tattoos are meant to support her use of a rapier. The energy she pulls from her ley lines are used to augment her thrusts and strikes, as well as to provide small shielding and offensive capability. All of her spells require that she pull energy from a ley line source beforehand, which will cause the dull hue of her tattoos to sharpen and glisten with arcane power, making it very obvious to the casual observer that she is charged with magical energy.

                                                                          Arcane Strike
                                                                          Arcane magic augments her rapier strikes through the tattoo that travels to her palm. By placing arcane power behind her weapon, Lucina is capable of striking with more force at the cost of more concentration. This is her primary ability, and is something she has come to rely on frequently.

                                                                          Arcane Shield (One Handed)
                                                                          By using her off-hand's tattoos, Lucina is capable of crafting a temporary 'Arcane Buckler' that can be used to deflect some strikes with her forearm. Due to the specific nature of the arcane shield's location and the concentration required, it is best used in close combat, and unless truly lucky is not worth wasting energy on to deflect ranged attacks.

                                                                          Arcane Spark
                                                                          A simple one-handed flash from her off-hand palm. Used to distract and otherwise temporarily blind those not paying attention, to gain an upper hand or to simply afford a bit of time. If very close it can cause burns to flesh.

                                                                          Arcane Shield (Two Handed)
                                                                          By channeling the energy through both palms, Lucina can extend her shield to encompass the space between her palms and her feet. Primarily this means she can form a small shimmering wall before her that can deflect and halt blows, intermediate magic and other such dangers for a short time. Due to the fact it requires both hands and even more concentration, it is nigh impossible to preform any sort of offensive ability when this ability is in use.

                                                                          Magic Missile
                                                                          A two-handed spell of basic nature, Lucina unleashes the arcane energy out of her palms collectively to form a simple bolt of arcane energy. The spell is amplified primarily by use of both hands, and as such is on par with your typical magical bolt spells.

                                                                          Feather Fall
                                                                          By forcing the arcane energy into the tattoos at her feet, Lucina is capable of falling long distances and landing with minimal damage so long as she has the arcane power to offset the physical force of her landing.

                                                                          WEAKNESS Lucina is fast, and she is decisive. However, in a prolonged conflict or a measure of sheer strength, Lucina is at a disadvantage. Her magic is almost entirely based around supporting her style of combat, and as such what few options she possesses out of the realm of close-range combat are woefully underpowered. As well, having to pull from the arcane ley lines of which her magic is based takes time and concentration, and as such once her pool of power is spent, Lucina is left with nothing more than her own physical capabilities. Not being excessively tattooed like those who so frequently use her style of magic, her pool of magic is also sadly not at it's optimum, meaning her confrontations need to be short and meaningful if she is to have a chance.

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                                                                          THEME Falcon In The Dive
                                                                          EXTRA Lucina is remarkably well learned in the niceties and graces of social situations and is quite a capable dancer when it comes down to it.
                                                                          Just expect her to use it to humiliate someone who dares to suggest she's incapable of being sociable rather than actually to be sociable.

                                                                          tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab "My worth is measured in success, and my success is measured in blood."

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                      XXUser Image
                      NAME : Deckard Mathis
                      AGE : Fourty-Five
                      GENDER : Male
                      SPECIES : Volhalon
                      FACTION : ex-Illegal Salvager
                      PROFESSION : Zero-G Salvage Specialist

                      HEIGHT : 5'2
                      WEIGHT : 104 lbs
                      DISTINCTIVE PHYSICAL FEATURES : Due to his biological quirks as a Volhalon, Deckard is typically wearing an environmental suit in any environment warmer than a balmy thirty degrees Fahrenheit. In those rare instances otherwise, however, he is noted for ludicrously pale skin along his stomach, neck, and face, and wide, dark eyes of his species. The thin exoskeleton so typical of the Volhalon is present, a cool blue that adds a surprisingly nice hue of color to his otherwise pale belly and face.
                      SPACE ARMOR : Optimized for Zero Gravity

                      EFFECTIVE PERSONALITY ATTRIBUTES : Cheerful, Intelligent, Observant, Pragmatic, Professional
                      INEFFECTIVE PERSONALITY ATTRIBUTES : Greedy, Opportunistic, Morally deficit, Apathetic.
                      BASIC SUMMARY OF KNOWN PERSONALITY : Deckard is a man of simple pleasures. A cool room, fine Volhalon cuisine, a bank account full of credits and plenty of time in zero gravity. With no real ambitions for a high position in life, Deckard is perfectly fine with simply living day to day. However, as a result of Deckard's self-perpetuating lifestyle, he oftentimes fails to recognize or even care that his actions have any actual effect on individuals other than himself, which makes long-term, meaningful relationships nigh impossible. Deckard is hardly bothered by the fact, however, simply seeing it as a fact of life than any real issue.

                      SKILL SET :
                      Zero-G Specialist - Deckard's job revolves around boarding, scavenging from, fighting on, and eventually leaving derelict ships. As such, the Volhalon has a lot of experience in a zero gravity environment. He's most at home in low to no gravity, and as such prefers it that way.
                      Scavenger's Gaze - As a lot of his job involves finding the most valuable-looking cargo or ship component and getting the hell of out dodge with it, Deckard is particularly good at recognizing and pointing out high value ship parts and items, as well as appraising them for damage.
                      Controlled Demolitions - As most derelict ships tend to float without power in space, sometimes you need a little extra oomph to get through that nasty bulkhead or stubborn door. Deckard is prepared for those situations.
                      WEAPON SPECIALIZATIONS :
                      Pistols - Easy to carry and easy to compensate for in zero gravity, Deckard's a good shot with a pistol, and has also wired a basic heads-up connection between his helmet and pistol to ensure his accuracy can at least be consistent when it counts.
                      Explosives - Controlled demolition is Deckard's particular skill, but when things take a turn for the worst, you can be damn sure that he's unafraid to bust out the big explosives to ensure that whatever serious threat to his life is eradicated with prejudice. Due to the unpredictable nature of using explosives in zero gravity, this tends to be a last resort.
                      ESP : N/A
                      OTHER EXPERIENCE : Deckard is particularly good at playing people. His history as a scavenger has resulted in plenty of situations of having to fabricate legal justification for being in illegal locations, and as such the Volhalon is particularly good at spinning a good weave when it matters. It especially comes in handy when, say, pretending to be a rescue crew member.

                      KNOWN REPUTATION : Deckard is reputed to being involved in shady business, this much is true, but he generally keeps his history of work working for salvagers in the clear, as it tends to make for a poor professional portfolio.
                      PERSONAL INTERVIEW : The GC has under file your character answering three distinct questions that they ask each operative before employment. Please answer each question in first person feel free to be as long or short as your character would be.
                          If it came down to failing your mission- or letting a shipmate die- which would you choose? Right down to the serious business, eh? Well, I'm used to operatin' ships with somethin' of a skeleton crew. Your shipmates are essential to making sure you can make it out of whatever job, so letting a shipmate die is basically failing a mission to begin with. (pause) I'd save the guy, not gonna get to go home otherwise right?
                          What would you do if your commanding officer ordered you into a situation that was perilous but highly avoidable? My Commanding Officer can strap a Zero-G suit on and go do it himself then. You wanna put your crew members at stake for stupid frakking reasons, you better be ready to show you can do the stupid frakking job yourself.
                          What are your thoughts about humans? What are your thoughts about aliens? Humans tend to be trouble. In my experience anyway, they tend to be the kinds who get sucked up in all the unpleasant feelings and doubts that just get in the way. Now that don't mean there's not a few good eggs out there, but most humans? Softies. As for the other races, it kind of depends on environment rather than actual race. I mean, Gnosians are arrogant as s**t but you get one away from that Imperialism culture and he or she might just turn out alright, yaknow?

                      FOOTNOTES :
                      Home Planet: Edronus
                      The Volhalon are a species that have grown from conquering the cold, dark environment of Edronus to become one of the more stubborn races in the intergalatic political arena. A bipedal race, the Volhalons are short, -with an average height of 4'11" and a tall range typically capping at 5'4"- thin, and pale. The dark environment they've evolved in has given them an excellent ability to see in low-light conditions, which tends to make their dark, wide eyes sensitive to what would be considered reasonable lighting conditions by other space-faring civilizations, and the in response to the cold winds and temperature, Volhalons have developed a thin, outward exoskeleton that encompasses the back of the body, arms, legs, neck and head, leaving the 'underbelly' of Volhalons with a surprisingly pale and soft skin. Their facial features and underbellies are surprisingly similar to human anatomy, which allowed a feeling of familiarity to at least encourage Volhalon-Human relations during initial meetings.

                      However, due to living in temperatures considered freezing to most space-faring civilizations, the Volhalon people are typically found in environmental suits when in any environment that might be over a 'balmy' twenty degrees Fahrenheit. Temperatures over forty degrees Fahrenheit are lethal to Volhalon, which means most efforts at early diplomacy with the Gnosians -the first race the Volhalons encountered- were hampered due to a distrust of the suit-wearing Volhalons, as well as an underestimation of them being a weaker race. A factor the Volhalons were quick to disprove, but not after a very bloody and costly war on both fronts.
                      Volhalons nowadays, however, consider Gnosians with a gruff -mostly respectful- rivalry rather than any outright rancor.

                      Volhalons tend to live anywhere from 100 to 120 standard human years.

                      CHARACTER COLOR : navy
                      THEME : N/A
                      PLAYER : Nergalitos

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      If time's a song I won't wait for it's reprise,
      I am done wishing farewells and goodbyes.
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          Deckard Mathis

Location: The Arke
Currently: Getting bearings
wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana

      I won't let this place overshadow my birthright,
      I won't wait another eon.
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    helloLogan Bridger
    ▌ ⋅ Male
    ▌ ⋅ Human
    ▌ ⋅ Rogue
    ▌ ⋅ Stealth, Inconspicuous, Predator, Feign Death, Two Weapon Sweep, Lacerate, Low Blow
    ▌ ⋅ Charming, Unflappable, Opportunistic
    ▌ ⋅ Nergalitos
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            Inquisitor Freya Burkhart

    Location:Brecillian Ruins
    Currently: Meeting with Casseth

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      Dapper Genius

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                                              Jacqueline Marie Anger

                                              The Magnette

                                              "I don't make deals with scum."

                                              The Basics

                                                    ✪ ▌Nickname ⋮ Mags, Jackie, Jack, 'That blind b***h'
                                                    ✪ ▌Age ⋮ Twenty-Six
                                                    ✪ ▌Role ⋮ The Justiciar
                                                    ✪ ▌Gender ⋮ Female
                                                    ✪ ▌Birthday ⋮ November 23rd
                                                    ✪ ▌Sexuality ⋮ Homosexual
                                                    ✪ ▌Abilities ⋮ Jacqueline is capable of creating a magnetic field, which can be used to pull, push, and otherwise manipulate metallic objects within the radius of the magnetic field, but once it leaves that field it's no longer under her control. As well, she cannot manipulate objects to the extent of, say, lifting the entire Golden Gate Bridge. She can stop a car with a lot of strain on her powers if it's going below 50 MPH, but that will easily reduce her ability to actually act because of the focus it requires. Also, Mags is capable of using her magnetic field as a 'buffer' between herself and a large object, essentially blinding herself further for the sake of a temporary (and terrifying) levitation. Electrical discharge is attracted to her magnetic field, which more often than not can result in Jacqueline being electrocuted unless she distances herself from her magnetic field. Given that Jacqueline is blind, she also lacks the ability to 'see' beyond metal objects within her realm of control, and her sensitive hearing and smell can be a blessing and a curse, though they don't step into the realm of the ridiculous. She can't tell you had sex with the bellhop twenty minutes ago the second you walk into the room unless you really reek of shame. As far as origin, she was born doing it, just the same as she was born blind.

                                              Who Are You?

                                                    ✪ ▌Personality ⋮ Jacqueline's last name is surprisingly apt. Anger and Indignation guide the Magnette's primary reasons to do justice, and when she's in the midst of working, it seems like anger and satisfaction is all that she expresses. When not preforming vigilante justice in abundance, Jacqueline can come across as withdrawn and a bit frigid. Her devotion to her work in reducing crime to bloody smears on the pavement has consumed her, and as such she tends to keep her social interactions short and to the point, oftentimes coming off as rude to the easily offended.

                                                    ✪ ▌Likes ⋮

                                                        ☑Hot showers
                                                        ☑Heavy Metal
                                                        ☑Actual Metal
                                                        ☑Beating up criminals
                                                        ☑Metal block puzzles

                                                    ✪ ▌Dislikes ⋮

                                                        ☒Making deals with criminals
                                                        ☒Crime in general
                                                        ☒Loud noises
                                                        ☒Screaming babies (both literally and cowardly)

                                                    ✪ ▌Fears ⋮ Simple things that phase the Magnette are deep water, electrical discharge, and being away from any metal to use. However, what really scares Jacqueline is losing people she develops a connection with. Her sometimes dismissive demeanor is a defense mechanism, one that she sincerely hopes doesn't fail her.

                                                    ✪ ▌Nemesis ⋮ The Connection. A figure who controls the flow and direction of the 'less important' and more plentiful aspects of crime in Atlas, and one that does so with a relative lack of consequence. They are a plague infecting the city with crime, and one Jacqueline is thoroughly looking forward to bashing into a bloody crumpled mess.

                                                    ✪ ▌Weaknesses ⋮ Electrical Discharge is a serious problem. Lightning and electricity are attracted to magnetic fields like, well, a magnet, and as such pose a serious throat to the Magnette's safety. Unless she can distance herself from her own magnetic field, it is very possible to electrocute and seriously injure Jacqueline. As well, despite her magnetic field giving her the ability of a bizarre brand of sight, Jacqueline tends to develop a form of hindsight, tending not to pay attention to things outside of her range of focus. As well, manipulating objects that are heavy or require a lot of attention will keep her rooted to the spot and easy pickings for an opportunist.

                                              Origin Story

                                                    ✪ ▌Biography ⋮
                                                    Jacqueline Marie Anger was born blind. Her parents were good people, devoted to their child's well being and ultimately doing the best they could with a child who could move the silverware with her mind from a young age. They didn't resent Jacqueline for her ability, of course. In fact, in their own eyes it made her even more special, even more worth protecting. Jacqueline spent a lot of her early years being doted on and admired, and in her teenage years the typical teenage rebellion lead to the seeds of resentment.

                                                    Jacqueline never disliked her parents, of course. She still doesn't, to this day. But to be coddled and looked after for even the slightest things, leaving one with little room to 'see' the world beyond what it shown, it can make one somewhat eager to get out the door. And out the door she went. Jacqueline's eventual graduation from highschool was followed by the inevitable question of a college education, something that Jacqueline immediately leapt on as an excuse to get away from her all-too-concerned parents. She traveled to New Forge, and enrolled in NFU with a major in architecture, a factor that confused the s**t out of her parents.
                                                    The superhero culture, in full swing, caught Jacqueline's attention early on. With her powers, her abilities, she could do a lot more good than designing mere buildings, of course. And why shouldn't she lend her abilities to that cause? She took up fighting crime, a small time heroine known as the Magnette. The superhero group in New Forge had never truly consolidated, and ultimately left Jacqueline taking down minor thugs on her own. Soon, the superhero life began to become more appealing than the bland classes and boring people. After only three semesters in college, Jacqueline dropped out and decided to move elsewhere, to Atlas, the Superhero Capital.

                                                    Things were much different there. Crime was almost a fashion statement, superheroes and villains alike were celebrities, and for the first time in a long time, Jacqueline felt like she truly belonged. The Magnette took to the streets, taking down petty thugs, and even a small time supervillain gang leader known as the White Wisp. She refused the initial invitation to join the UCC, instead simply deciding to set up shop on her own, at least until she met one Grace Eberstark. Grace, like Jacqueline, was a heroine who refused to join in with the UCC, deciding instead that the best way to mettle out justice was on her own terms, an ideal which Jacqueline herself agreed with easily. Grace and Jacqueline were close, good partners, and great lovers. It was only inevitable it wouldn't last.
                                                    Spoilers, it didn't.
                                                    Taking down the White Wisp had unexpected repercussions. His gang's territory - Jacqueline and Grace's stomping grounds- had been long in the midst of dealing with a much larger mob takeover that they had thus held in a dangerous standstill. In putting the White Wisp in prison, effectively beheading the gang, the standstill ended and the Mob moved in. The territory became dangerous, and during what should have been a particularly routine robbery takedown, Grace wound up taken down herself in an ambush set for the two heroes. Jacqueline found herself alone, her partner and lover taken by smart individuals who clearly knew the superhero game.
                                                    There were two options, to be wise, and walk away with her life intact, or to leap in headfirst and get revenge for her fallen lover.

                                                    Unfortunately for wisdom, it's hard to walk away from cherished memories. Jacqueline threw herself headlong into pursuing the mob, going on a violent, one woman rampage through the mob's ranks to find the son/daughter of a b***h responsible for killing her lover. Jacqueline's obsession with taking down her foe grew and grew, and one year later, she was finally granted the opportunity she so desired. Thanks to information forced from mafia goons and a small helping of luck, The Magnette found herself face to face with the one responsible for Grace Eberstark's death. Unfortunately for the Magnette, it seemed that supervillains running gangs was not uncommon, and this one was a particularly nasty foe. The two fought violently to a standstill, truly only interrupted by the arrival of backup. Deciding that living to kill another day was smarter this time, the Magnette retreated, but not before giving the b*****d something to remember her by.

                                                    Two years have passed since then, and Jacqueline has grown as well. No longer in possession of a home, and devoted still to the prospect of killing her personal foe, Jacqueline has bade her time, taking down the scum of the streets and seeking any leads she can find on the illusive mob boss. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and as much as Jacqueline hungers for the main course, she's more than willing to settle for the appetizers that Atlas has to offer. Her loose attitude toward killing and general, homeless way of life has made the Magnette something of a horror story for some aspects of Atlas, both criminal and of repute, but Jacqueline herself doesn't bother with such things as what others think of her. A rash of home invasion accusations tend to follow wherever the Magnette goes, but given the service she does for the local community, the occasional shower or impromptu bathroom surgery is a small price to pay in her eyes. In the end, she will have to pay her dues, but not before she makes sure that others pay them first.

                                                    Justice, as they say, is blind.


                                                    Jacqueline has a bit of a weakness for cigarettes, and will occasional snatch one or two if the house she invades happens to have a pack. She also tends to drink the alcohol she snatches for fixing wounds and pours herself a glass.
                                                    ✪ ▌Soundtrack ⋮

                                                    ✪ ▌Colors ⋮


                                                    ✪ ▌Username ⋮ Nergalitos
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      Dapper Genius

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      「 Lawrence Prescott,」 THE PILOT
      Lawrence, Prescott, Cyclops++++Detroit, Michigan++++Nergalitos

      [ Male ]++++[ 29 ]++++[ Heterosexual ]

      Lawrence's initial history involving piloting was as in scouting prospective locations for potentially interesting gas or mineral deposits for interested clients in both corporate and clandestine operations, as well as the occasional smuggling run. For a time, his work was profitable -if not strictly legal- and allowed him to gain a reputation as a discreet, effective pilot for various jobs.

      However, karma eventually caught up to Lawrence in the form of an overly ambitious client who decided that a middle man was too much of a risk for what should have been a routine drop off. Prescott survived, but was left in a crippled ship with some nasty burn wounds and a rather gracious new outlook on going legit. Thankfully, losing an eye in a chemical burn doesn't particularly effect space flight, and as such Lawrence found himself sticking to strictly legit work since limping his way back to civilized space. Due to a bit of luck and some recommendations from a wide variety of sources, Prescott's skills allowed him to catch the gaze of The Financier, and as such have landed him with a new and exciting opportunity for a well-paying piloting gig.
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      Dapper Genius

          For once in this life, I better do something right,
          Don't bury the voice that's not yet spoken,
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              Lawrence Prescott - The Pilot

      Location: The Space Elevator
      Currently: Meeting the new crew
      wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana wanananana

          I'll challenge the flames til this man with no country remains,
          Still caught in a world that won't stop burnin'.

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