Welcome to Gaia! ::

-Username: Anonymooo

-Name: Mooo (hey, strange parents do strange things)

-Description: Mooo's a big guy--standing at 6'1", weighing in at 225 pounds of almost all-muscle, he's broad-shouldered, solid, and would be very, very intimidating if not for his long, hippie hair and prescription glasses--or the grin he almost constantly has plastered on his face. Dressed plainly but practically, Mooo has the appearance of the average hired muscle, but his actions mark him as something a bit different.

-Quirks: Mooo is nearsighted--an unusual quality in a pureblooded hand-to-hand fighter. His prescription glasses are not completely necessary--he won't be blind if they're knocked off--but Mooo's vision becomes useless about ten feet away from him, which in a pitched battle can be extremely dangerous. Mooo is also often too kind to his opponents, trying to talk them out of their intentions, or giving them too many chances to give up, leaving him open to vicious counterattacks when his guard is down.

Having been raised by his mother most of his life, Mooo has been instilled with a strong sense of respect--very rarely does he mouth off to people, and he remains humble and reasonably polite to most people, even when they've been rude to him. If he's going to fight seriously, it's almost always for a damn good reason, and almost never just for the hell of it, or for a minor reason like an insult.

Back on the subject of Mooo's "kindness" during combat--he's very aware of his strength, and will often try to "feel out" an opponent he's facing--he tries to match his strength to theirs, not out of pity or wanting a challenge, but because he doesn't want to hurt somebody more than they have to be. Of course, if someone is truly evil and unrepentant, he has in the past shown that he's more than willing to put them in traction.

-Equipment: He carries no weapons or tools--Mooo makes do with his hands and feet, among other body parts, in a fight. When necessary, he has torn off portions of his shirt or pants (or unhooked the suspenders that hang from his pants) to form makeshift tourniquets and bandages. The metal bracers on the knuckles and tops of his gloves, in addition to the tops (and the ribbed soles of) his boots are designed to deflect bladed weapons and provide simple protection.

The metal bracers are not simply blocks of metal--while Mooo's hands are stronger than most, he's still an intelligent fighter who realizes that punching is in fact very damaging to the hands and should be done carefully, despite its tactical advantages over other forms of body-attack. The knuckle-dusters and tophand guards have a quarter-inch of reinforced steel alloy, with a foam rubber backing under them that extends partway into the mesh of the glove, which is a specially-made, ultra-durable material called ironcloth, available for a fair price in most stores in Gaia. The soles of his boots are plates of steel alloy, ribbed and linked together with mesh nailed on for traction--use has worn the plates some as well, giving him just as much traction as a good, broken-in tennis shoe.

The plates on the gloves are often reinforced with Mooo's chi during combat, and he's used them to do things like block bullets (okay, only one bullet, and that was pure luck, Mooo will admit to that), and when reinforced in such a way are able to resist surprising amounts of pinpoint force. However, Mooo rarely uses them in combat for more than simple deflection of a bladed weapon--not straight blocking--so he has yet to test their full defensive capabilities.

-Abilities: Mooo is one of twenty-two people in the world trained in the esoteric martial system "Royal Guard." A system, as opposed to a martial art, Royal Guard relies in specializing in using a particular physical trait or "weapon" of the human body, using forethought, tactics, and physiological knowledge to defeat opponents permanently and non-lethally. Royal Guard is designed to take prisoners, and its killing techniques are reserved only for extreme life-and-death purposes--Mooo is not versed in these killing techniques, and is only able to perform a select few of them. He is a Journeyman Royal Guard practitioner, with many years to go before he can even get close to attaining his Master's Mark.

The complete breakdown of Mooo's overall skills are as follows:

Close Combat- Mooo's strongest physical weapons are his jackhammer fists. Shirking weaponry, Mooo's close-quarter combat is exceptional, forcing his opponent's guard down so he can deliver punishing punches and elbows to his foe's head and upper body. However, it's a bad habit of Mooo's to do long, overhand punches, as he prefers the weight of those to tighter attacks. When he's in a pinch, though, he tends to turn his brain on and tighten up his technique to an appropriate level.

Ranged Hand-to-hand- While not as strong as his punches, Mooo's kicks are powerful, clean, and close distance to his opponent with surprising speed for one so big. His kicks are generally used as "pokes," keeping his opponent at distance while he works a combat strategy out, then closes in and finishes the job with a few well-placed punches. Another part of his strategy is to draw his opponent's attention high with punches, then slam a kick into their legs--it's a basic and often-overlooked tactic that most people wouldn't expect of him with his heavy 80/20 emphasis in favor of handwork.

Strategic Thinking- Not a genius by any stretch of the imagination, but quite intelligent, to his foe's dismay--Mooo thinks of every fight as a puzzle that needs solving as quickly as possible--but the catch is that it has to be solved correctly, as lives are at stake. While it may seem that Mooo's all muscle, and waiting for that one chance to just drop his opponent, the truth is that he's weighing each choice, trying to stop his enemy as quickly and efficiently as he can.

Strength- As a solidly-built, well-trained young man, Mooo is already physically strong--but by drawing upon the full abilities released by the Gods of 0wnage (referred to by them as his "0wnage Soul," but called his "Center" by his father and Mal), is able to generate incredible destructive force and perform feats of immense strength. Mooo's absolute maximum limits have never been tested, but he has been able to drag several tons' worth of resisting weight for a few hours with reasonable fatigue, and fight somebody afterward--Mooo won that match with another show of monstrous power (by punching his opponent through the length of the truck he was dragging) before collapsing of exhaustion.

Stamina- Simply put, Mooo does not drop. His drive to win will continuously cause him to get up and continue fighting, even in the face of impossible odds. His attacks may be ineffective, his speed may be shot, and he won't be able to make a smart move worth a damn, but Mooo will always get up again. That dogged determination can often unbalance an opponent who's sure of victory.

Energy Manipulation- Not what you'd think, to be honest--by draining the energy of his Center, Mooo can manipulate that power in various ways, whether he charges and releases it for a sustained blast of energy (something he has only done once with very poor results), or encompasses it around his fist to enhance the power of his punch, which is his preferred technique. Another trick Mooo is able to use particularly well is to constantly course energy through his system to improve his stamina and allow him to fight longer, along with being able to take slightly more damage than normal. Mooo's base power is set--he has all the powers he'll ever have, but he just has to figure out the ways to use them effectively--something that will just take time, experience, and a whole lotta trial and error.

Evolutions: The power of the human body is far from just a standard arsenal of abilities and enhancements. By imbuing the Center onto oneself, and by putting your personality and spirit into it as well, an Evolution takes place, granting the combatant highly-enhanced powers and abilities that reflect the user's personality and fighting style.

Initial Evolution: Gladius Install- As a by-product of Mooo's straightforward nature, Gladius Install wraps Mooo's fists and feet in energy, the energy then forming gauntlets and greaves with unique abilities. When Mooo uses physical strikes with his hands or feet, the air-intakes at the tops of the gauntlets or greaves causes the attacks to triple or quadruple in speed and impact--also, the energy of the gauntlets and greaves themselves adds a few inches of range to Mooo's reach. Mooo is also able to extend his energy as a physical force in this form, able to basically punch someone in the face from eight to ten feet away--however, this requires extreme precision and control, so Mooo rarely uses it, unless it's against a static target.

Final Evolution: Conquest Trigger- The sum totality of Mooo's training and fighting ability, Conquest Trigger renders Mooo invulnerable--with an unusual trade-off. Burning off Mooo's shirt and gloves by its sheer force (his glasses somehow remain undamaged), his entire body is covered with ornate, semicircular markings, with two massive wings of energy sprouting from his back. Any spot covered by the markings takes no damage--however, Mooo is unable to return damage without transforming the markings into energy, which he mainly uses to wrap around his fists and deliver Earth-shattering punches. Any spot no longer covered by the markings becomes an extreme Achilles' Heel for him--uncovered spots take severe damage, forcing Mooo to be very careful about which spots he takes markings from. The wings of energy on Mooo's back don't grant him flight--rather, they allow bursts of incredible speed, allowing Mooo to close distance to finish his opponents.

-History: (A note: none of this, aside from the mention of the "Gaian Tenkaichi Budokai" tournament, has been played out in RP. This has been developed through writing and Void battles.)

An average-seeming country home ended up having a not-so-average family--a father and mother extensively trained in Royal Guard, an elite, ancient fighting style that stressed hand-to-hand combat and tactical thinking, ended up raising an only son who was going to be the first in their family line not to work as hired muscle for the Gambino racket. Things seemed to be going well for the family, as both parents worked hard, Mooo being home-schooled and taught by his father (who also worked nights for Gambino until Mooo was thirteen), and his mother working in the day at a grocery store in Isle de Gambino. That changed around Mooo's fifteenth birthday.

Mooo's father, Nigmas, left suddenly without explaining anything to his son--Felicity, his wife, knew all the details, but was instructed to keep them from Mooo until he was older and more ready to understand what Nigmas was facing. Felicity told Mooo that she and his father were having problems in their marriage, and that she and Nigmas split--Mooo would eventually see his father again in the future, but otherwise, it was just the two of them from then on.

"From then on" only lasted three years.

Coming home late from spending time with his friends one night, nobody was home. Mooo tried calling the grocery store, but got no answer. Heading into town, Mooo came across a scene of total chaos at the store--earlier in the day, a terrifying man who wore rags and dented chunks of armor, his long red hair and beard matted, dreadlocked, and tied into random braids here and there, his eyes wild and bloodshot, came to the store demanding that Felicity tell him where Nigmas had gone to. Felicity refused, and tried to fight the man--who viciously killed her.

Now alone in the world, Mooo had nobody to come home to, and stayed out late every night, sometimes all night, honing the Royal Guard he'd learned from both of his parents in underground pit fights, often owned and operated by Gambino people. One brawl in particular (in the new bar MK, owned by Mooo's longtime friend Crimsonius Skylicker) caused Mooo to black out and have a strange hallucination--after miraculously defeating an opponent who seemed much stronger than him.

In the hallucination, or dream, or vision, or whatever you'd call it, a voice saying that it represented the "Gods of 0wnage," beings who existed only for the glory of combat, had a message to impart to him, and a gift. The gift was the simple part: unlock 100% of his fighting potential. Every single ounce of capability his body had, from energy manipulation to strength to stamina to durability. Mooo was already a bit stronger and tougher than most, but this gift boosted his power to astonishing levels.

The message is where things got fuzzy, as to a careful listener it would come across as very strange. The Gods of 0wnage were apparently tired of all the killing, of all the war, of all the fighting not done in the name of bettering oneself or stamping out oppression. They wanted to create a world where everyone was equal, where there was no weak or strong, where everyone stood up for themselves and fought for what they believed in. Mooo, being the gullible country hick he is, accepted.

What Mooo doesn't seem to realize is that the "Gods of 0wnage" have a rather dubious name, and their idea of "a world where nobody ever hesitates, where there is no defining line between weak and strong" sounds just a little suspicious. However, not thinking ahead as usual, Mooo has barrelled into and through opponent after opponent--some he's beaten, others he's been beaten by, but in the end, Mooo realizes something: the Gods of 0wnage have unlocked his powers, given him complete and total access to everything a human being is capable of--and that's a lot. However, he's barely scratching the surface of what he's capable of, and is, for the time being anyways, content with using his superhuman strength and durability to put people through walls.

Having faced those numerous challenges, Mooo has been reunited with his father, Nigmas. However, before Nigmas will even train Mooo, the young man will have to go on a training journey--not because it'll open his eyes to the universe or any fruity s**t like that, it's because Nigmas, like his friends around the world, is a sadistic d**k who believes that only through suffering can a person's character and strength truly improve. Having gone through hell in Void City at the hands of Mal, an expert fighter conditioner and a master of Royal Guard himself, Mooo makes a return visit to Gaia, enrolling in a massive tournament to see if his training will pay off as greatly as Mal says it will. Before the tournament starts, though, Mooo needs money to make ends meet--seeing an ad for the Skinner Mining Company, Mooo applies for a guard position, thinking to be average goon work where he'll provide simple security detail. It sounds easy enough, right?

-RP Sample: Where were the CRUMB donuts? Mooo's jaw set as he squatted down before the Hostess shelf in the 7-11, tilting his head and pushing some of his long hair out of his face, elbows resting on his knees.

"'Scuse me," he called to the cashier, "are you guys outta the little crumb donuts?"

The cashier barely looked up from replacing the register tape, calling back "If it ain't on the shelf, it ain't in the store." Disappointed, Mooo dragged himself back to his feet, plucking up a pack of the powdered mini-donuts, fishing into his pocket for spare cash. Sugar was sugar, after all.

-Faction you wish to join: The Miners. If the recruiting drive for help in this endeavor was in Barton Town, Mooo would see this solely as a mercenary-type job where he could make a quick buck. However, Mooo's decisiveness on the battlefield is not something that transfers over to his personal life--and he may be forced to make some decisions he's not comfortable with out there in the valley.

Character: 1.5/5 - There really isn't too much here, a few small things, yes, but not really the strongest area of the whole profile.

Combat: 4/5 - Sensible, balanced, and generally realistic... with exceptions. The equipment carried seems perfectly suited for a person to carry around on their person when not trudging through the trenches or things like that. The bullets, however, I'd like a little more explaination on their effects than what you have listed. Some of the effects make sense in the 'you get shot and then this happens' way, while some just don't really make much sense at all unless you're saying 'instead of a bullet, this gets shot'.

As for the ammunition. 8 types, 4 clips each, 15 rounds per clip? That's 32 15 round clips... A clip of that size for that type of pistol for the purposes of this statement we'll compare to about the size of a small TV remote. 32 of those in her belt? ...yeah... I can't really see it. Maybe half a dozen clips or so, and the rest in a lil' backpack, but that's a lot of s**t to be clacking around on her belt. xp

History: 5.5/10 - Average, or slightly below. While it contains many events that were obviously points in her life that have been RPed, when the events are looked at from a distance, as they are in a bio like this, they tend to not make much sense in terms of why they all happened. If a new character had been submitted with a history like that, it would have scored much lower as the backstory is very jumpy; yet since the things you RP do not always make perfect sense as for why your character is involved with them, much leeway is given for that. The reason, however, that the score is lower than, say, a 7 or 8 is because while there are many events listed there is very little to no mention of Tru's own feelings in regards to these events and, as we all know, it is our experiences that shape who we are.

Total: 11/20

At this score you have the option for a partial resubmit; I'd recommend fleshing out the Description and Quirks sections to show that you have a very solid feel for who your character is.

Also, I'd like to see (though it won't affect the overall points) a little more about the elemental bullets. This is mainly so that the judges of the event won't have to crack down if some weird s**t starts happening. biggrin

Tank'uu come again. ^_^

Username: ManicMania
Name: Raven Ilumini (E-lu-min-i)
Description: Raven is about average height, but leans a little bit more to the taller side of things. Her whole build is very lean and bony, but is not exactly at the point of unhealthy thinness. Her skin is death white, intensifying her serious, deep forest green eyes tenfold, the dark circles underneath add to the whole thing too. Her black hair is as straight as a lance, and is cut about an inch below the bottom of her ear and is always parted down the center, away from her face. Her features are very elegant, beautiful, and frail, yet always seems to be in a deeply concentrated, or completely cold and emotionless expression.... looking at her directly in the face can be quite an intimidating experience. She wears a black tight fitting unitard which serves as shirt and pants in one, and covers everything including all of her neck up to her chin. On her hands, she wears a pair of fingerless black gloves which extend all the way up to her elbows, and are covered with strange symbols that are highlighted in green to make them noticeable. A light green sash that is made from a very airy and flowing material hangs loosely tied on her hips. On her feet, are a simple pair of black leather boots that reach about two inches past her ankles and are merely slipped on instead of tied or buckled. On top of all of this, she wears a dark green cloak with a hood, and on the space between her eyes, right were the third eye chakra lies, is one simple diamond shaped emerald.
Quirks: If you were to describe Raven in one word, it would be, complicated. She is a treasure chest of emotional outbursts, sometimes frightening those around her with sudden spurts of anger from a simple accusation or word. One day, she will be completely oversensitive and overemotional, and then, the next day, she is a cold statue, and is heartless and sarcastic. There are some days, when she actually seems content, and is rather compatible and livable. But mostly, she is very quiet, and is not found in the center of attention, trying her best to not let out her rough emotions. She gathers strength from solitude, and quiet surroundings, and feels most energized when it is cold, nighttime, or raining heavily. She becomes easily annoyed with peppy people, and is rather bitter to those who are optimistic and always tell her that everything will turn out fine. She is rather afraid of bright light, but is able to walk in the sun. Harsh light is what bothers her the most. There are many loopholes in her powers, and several times many of her attempts have gone haywire. Even though she has been trained well in the arts of magic, she still needs to learn to channel and control her energy.
Equipment: Raven carries almost nothing on her person, and since she uses her magic abilities for battle and defense, she usually does not wear armor or carries weapons. She only has one thing. A simple dagger.... hidden in her boot. She doesn't know why she bothers to keep it, but she never has really thought of tossing it away.
Abilities: Raven is well emerged in all sorts of magic, but still has a lot to learn about controlling her abilities. Most of her spells are based around this dark energy, which basically appears as a black lightning that sprouts from her hands, and can be used for a number of different purposes. This dark energy, can be shaped and basically hardened into almost anything, but if Raven loses concentration, the shape will evaporate, and the connection will be lost.
Some of the basic uses are: Protection: The energy can either be shaped into a shield or forcefield, temporarily keeping Raven out of danger, but not protecting her from feeling slight pain if the shield is hit.
Attack: The energy can be hardened into a wave that can pack quite a punch, or it can mold around it's victim and pin them against the wall, or crush their bones in very slowly, depending on how much resistance they are putting up.
Her skills in potion making are exceptional, and she is quite skilled at making basic tonics. She can make a reviving potion, which all in all is basically a pain reliever, a sleeping potion for pleasant dreams and a restful night, and a potion that heightens concentration. For more complicated concoctions, she must turn to a book for guidance. She has slight telekinetic ability and can lift and move things with her mind. She still has trouble controlling this, and has difficulty with large objects. On a more lighter note, she is a good artist, and enjoys painting, and has become quite good at it.
History: Raven was the fourth child of Dean and Tessa Garnet, but she never grew up to know her loving parents and her siblings. On the day she was born, a strange man appeared in the room where Raven's mother was to give birth to her, and he placed his hands on her stomach were the unborn child rested. He then disappeared, and the next morning, Raven was gone from her crib, and her father was found dead. Raven had been claimed, and kidnapped by a dark mage, who sensed his time was coming, and he wished to carry on what he knew to another. Raven was raised in solitude, given a new name, and was taught of magic as soon as she could read and write. The two mostly lived in a series of abandoned catacombs, and the mage treated Raven with kindness and respect. Raven grew up, knowing nothing of what this man had done to her family........
When she became a teenager, she showed signs of mental instability, but continued to be a loyal and intelligent apprentice. The mage had become older, and he knew that he was dying, so he became more stern in his teachings, and began to try and pour everything he knew into Raven and into scrolls so that if he was to pass on, she would be able to read them. One day, Raven wandered out, and became aware of the other cities and of the life that flourished around her. At first, she was rather scared of it, but as she continued to sneak out to see the world, she became more fascinated, and eventually confronted her “father” about why he had not shown her these things. He became angry, and of course, locked her up in one of the rooms in the underground lair. But, Raven concentrated day and night, and when the mage was asleep in his chamber, Raven unlocked the door. This was when she discovered that she possessed telekinetic abilities. She then ran away in the dead of night, and returned a few days later to discover that the dark mage was dead. He had passed away from old age as he predicted.....
So, Raven continued to live in the catacombs, but would venture off around sunset and nighttime to walk or lie out to watch the stars. She also continued to practice in her “father's” teachings, and tried to develop her powers without him through the writings he left behind. In her spare time, which she had plenty of, she would paint, and it would help her through any emotional fits she would experience when she was alone in the caves. It became very therapeutic.
RP Sample: Raven brushed the streak of blue across the canvas, her face turned in the complete opposite direction of her unfinished painting. She had been working on this one for a few days, and by now she already knew what it would look like in her mind. She was painting the sun, setting over the wide sea. She had never even seen the sea yet, but she knew what it looked like from all of the pictures she would gaze at in her books and scrolls, particularly the stories of the mermaids and water nymphs. But, even if she knew what the sea looked like, was she painting it to its true essence? The brushing of paint on the canvas stopped for a moment, and Raven turned her head to actually look at the picture. It seemed right to her....... but ....... what was she to judge on if it looked right? She barely even went out when the sun was around...... Sighing, Raven's hand that held the paintbrush fell, blue paint dripping on the floor as it did. That was it. Tomorrow, she would journey out around the day, and actually try to find the sea.....
Faction you wish to join: The Shades....

Username: Ai Leen
Name: Riley "Spyder" Trachtenberg - also Ivan Emtwelve
Description: Riley Trachtenberg - Riley is an athletically built jewish female, looking to be in her mid-twenties and of average height, with the bearing and demeanor of a military woman trying to soften up and achieve a dignified grace. She has shoulder-length dark hair with pronounced golden highlights, dark brown eyes, and is given to wearing designer clothing, such as the flavor of today: an expensive-looking paprika, fluid stretch jersey dress with flutter sleeves and a wide snap belt of studded leather. Here and there on her light brown skin, signs of cyberizations can be seen. Small panel seams along her hands and ankles, and an almost butterfly pattern of panels can just be seen past the flutter of her hair when she moves. There is also panel-lining just above her ears that can be seen when she takes her sunglasses off.

Ivan Emtwelve - Ivan Emtwelve is a giant of a man, herculean in physique with obvious signs of cyberization. He towers above most men, and looks to be as solidly built as a pillar of chiseled granite. He is dressed in a generically Military fashion: Olive tanktop, thick black leather belt studded with utility pouches, all with equally thick buckles. Presumably, this holds up his durable, seemingly uselessly-camoflaged fatigue pants, which drape over spitshined black leather boots.

Quirks: Riley is a connoiseur of the finest things in life: clothing, cars, food, and wines. Unfortunately, even her Department 5 salary can't give her the mansion of her dreams, caviar for every meal, and 100 year aged wines. Instead of giving up these things she loves so much, Riley settled for an odd duality of a lifestyle: instant ramen for lunch, a gourmet chef-prepared meal for dinner, served with a decent wine. Her clothing is designer when she's out and about, but Fruit of the Loom is the brand on her clothing in her claustrophobic apartment. Riley is also a quiet type, though years of service with the Gaian Navy SEALs has adjusted her to boisterous activities. Through it all, she attempts to come off as more elegant and refined than she actually is...but is often thwarted by her professionalism and her past.

Equipment: Cybernetics - Since joining Department 5, Riley has set about creating a sizable information network tied to her, for Department 5's use. To faciliate this, Department 5 has provided a top of the line cyberbrain, enhanced tactile sensors in her hands and feet, and a 'Geordi LaForge' style interface system to allow her the use of external imaging equipment. The cyberbrain comes with all the abilities you'd expect from a computer-as-a-brain, including recording capabilities (all senses), macro creation, pattern recognition, speech translation, computer interface, and more... all backed by a 4 layer firewall/barrier system.

Optics - Riley's optical gear has two forms: stylish sunglasses and rugged military-grade gear. They include Night Vision, MADScan, IR, barcode, RFID, 'X-Ray', Circlevision Visor, Netdive Interface, and binoculars. These optics are powerful, built with military nanomachine technology, yet requiring more space than could fit in the eye sockets (besides, she still has her natural eyes). For this operation, she is bringing a bulletproof, foam-lined case containing her sunglasses set of optics, and the military-grade Circlevision Visor (which gives her 360 degree vision when interfaced with her cyberbrain).

Prosthetic Body "Ivan Emtwelve" - Riley will be arriving alongside Ivan Emtwelve, but will be spending the majority of her time within the male wearable decot (that is to say, her actual flesh and blood body will be riding inside him. Decot is military jargon for a robot constructed entirely of cyborg prosthesis. Decot comes from the words 'decoy' and 'robot' since they look very lifelike, but are completely without biological component.) which has an automatic combat program that puts it in league with the combat ability of an experienced military fighter. Riley has to download her entire consciousness into Ivan to make him do more than walk straight ahead, so during any time that she controls him directly, her body goes to "sleep" and is completely helpless.

Arms - Riley has also taken the liberty of bringing along a Seburo Arms C-X (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/1/18/Seburo_C-X.jpg) bullpup handgun with the grenade launcher option loaded with Advanced Aqueous Containment Foam rounds with the ammonia option. These grenade rounds generally amount to adhesive goo with options. The ammonia option allows the substance to be used as an antibacterial and anti-nerve agent, while the foam is capable of directing and supressing (even if by a small degree) explosions. The foam also can act as a sealant for leaking chemical containers, and allows for the containment of suspicious packages. The AACF round contains enough foaming agent to cover 3 square feet up to ranges of 15m accurately, and is marked by a clear cap filled with a blue liquid.

Abilities: Spidersilk - Riley is a mutant. She has glands on her illium that secrete spidersilk, which is distributed in a mesh-like pattern all over her subdermal tissue. The spidersilk is additionally anchored along her illiac crests, and end at two small openings in her lower back flanking her spine. She can pull these non-sticky threads out, and has developed a trick where she leaves a strand of silk behind, and feels the vibrations along it to gather auditory information long after she's left the area. The subdermal weave is strong enough to prevent her death from a handgun bullet wound, though as it is the last layer of her skin tissue, she'll still have a significant flesh wound to deal with. Single strands are the strength and width of a standard spider's silk strand.

SEALs - Riley has several years of Navy SEAL training and experience, and excels in infiltration. She has the ability to read sign language, read lips, and can read, write, and speak in a dozen different languages. She can also 'read' vibrations, thanks to her experience with her spidersilk as well as her cybernetic enhancements. Riley is a decent hacker as well, though not a "Class-A".


Non RP'd History: Riley is addicted to the high life. Fine wines, expensive cars, top brand name merchandise, designer dresses. Unfortunately, Riley also can't afford the high life. She certainly makes enough money to live very decently thanks to her D5 salary, but decently doesn't include beluga caviar, a personal chef, or a rack of the finest in wines. Not to mention that Porsche GT Carrera she rides around town in. So instead, Riley lives in the extremes. Fine-wine-with-instant-ramen lunches, gourmet dinner and wine (served by her personal chef) eaten on a TV tray in her cramped studio apartment. On her cheap but brand name answering machine (It's a Sony! That's a good name!) are daily messages from her dear old mom, demanding to know when she's going to settle down and give her grandkids. (And did you know that babies born to women under 30 live longer lives?)
But Riley isn't interested in that quite yet. Kids are for women who stay at home...and Riley has too much of adventurer in her blood to sit back and change diapers. Since the Dawn Of Time, Riley had been a tomboy. She was hanging off trees in her parents' front yard, scuffing her knees chasing down a baseball, or playing arcade games in the local pizza joint at any given day in her childhood. With her family being poor, these activities were usually punctuated by meals sponsored by Lunchables or Oscar Mayer. ("Good, upstanding brand-names", claimed her mom.) While these brandnames did do a very decent job, especially with Kraft Singles added to the occasional sandwich, the pre-teenage pallette starts to yearn for something more than coldcuts. And so when her high school 'buddy', Marissa Townsend, invited Riley over to her cousin's graduation party held at a ritzy restaurant, it was love at first bite. Unable to read French, Riley had literally randomly pointed at something on the menu: Gratinée de Coquille St Jacques. The food was so good, she nearly cried. If anything, she wanted to taste this food again, and eat it every day.
Riley did the research she could. First, she seriously began studying French. Second, she realized very quickly that her wardrobe didn't hold anything in it that would be suitable to wear in such a restaurant. T-shirts and jeans were Good, Solid Choices...except if you wanted to have the very best. Money. She needed money. Working for McDonalds was out of the question...now that she'd tasted perfection, the thought of the grease filled air made her gag. Plus, she'd never be able to afford anything on that menu with the wages she'd make there. Retail was regarded, then discarded. Riley needed to make serious money now...and that's when she found the Gaian Navy ROTC brochure. Hrm. It wouldn't get her a lot of money now...but...Foreign Language Proficiency Pay! 5,000 gold per month.... what's basic pay like for an officer? 150k gold salary? That sounds really appealing! Besides, the military sounded like fun.
...Riley's parents didn't take it that well. Their girl, joining the military? Still, that girl was as stubborn as they come, and so they gradually had to give in. So Riley underwent ROTC training while she was in school, and thanks to the scholarship from that training, Riley was able to go to a nice brand name college in Durem, where she majored in linguistics. This education persisted alongside her continued ROTC training, which had specialized at this point to take her down the Special Warfare Officer program. It was definitely the most exciting of the branches she could have taken, and many of the others were selecting that option as well.

Graduation was a double-celebration. Riley Trachtenberg not only got her bachelor's degree, but now also held the rank of Ensign. She had completed her BUDs training (Basic Underwater Demolition), and had survived SEAL training. More importantly, Riley had money...and the Navy meal program was really very decent. Ensign Trachtenberg's SEALs assignments took her to far off Communist Neopia. As the smallest and most agile of her team, she was often assigned the hardest infiltration missions. She began to take pride in this, and pulled off her missions with increasing efficiency. It was around this time period too that her mutant ability to generate spidersilk came into use. Her superiors continued to challenge her with harder and harder infiltration missions, almost always to gather intelligence. Riley developed her 'dancing web' technique here: she'd slip a strand of spider silk close to the conversations she was to monitor, then crawl off to safety where she'd feel the vibrations from the strand the conversation had created.

Riley soon became well known within the SEALs as their best infiltrator, and her information gathering skills were also highly lauded. It was her information that proved key to stopping the illegal exchange of Gaian Gold and Neopia Oints, and her actions that revealed the threat of Neopia's WMD, the TC:G (aka the Trans-Continental: Gaia) nuke. Before ending her tour of duty with the SEALS, Riley had garnered the Gaian Navy Distinguished Service Medal, the DoD Distinguished Service Medal, the Purple Heart (where Navy surgeons discovered Riley's secret, and where Riley's question of whether her spidersilk could stop a bullet was answered), the Neopia Campaign Medal, and the Gold War Victory Commemorative Medal.

Riley left the SEALs only after being approached via email by Senator Iroph. The pay increase and the job description intrigued her, the top of the line cybernetics lured her over, and the prospect of citylife (where fine wines and restaurants dwelt) sold her.



RP Sample: The rifle fire drew the attention of the other operative stationed at the vantage point necessary to observe the Outpost's activities. She hadn't been looking in his direction, but that was not a hinderance to detection. The former Gaian Navy SEAL information operative was testing her Circlevision visor after all: an all-around cyber camera system packed with too much military electronic hardware to fit in a standard eye socket cyberization. The woman known only as the "Spyder" on the 'net had also strung out her spidersilk strands in every direction and tied the ten strands to each of her sensitivity-enhanced fingers and thumbs. So when the left ring finger strand began vibrating strongly at the same moment the Circlevision visor alerted her cyberbrain to weaponsfire in that same vicinity, Riley sprang into action.

The couch was at least a half hour's drive away, in a tiny little apartment in dire need of a garage sale. It was soft, and comfortable, and currently occupied by a woman in a designer black silken dress. She sat dignified, with four cords emerging from the nape of her neck to a computer system that looked at least a hundred times more expensive than the apartment and all its contents, sitting on a rickety card table. <> came the woman's e-voice, <|||||| - I've executed a simultanious information crash on two garbage trucks traveling along the only road with access to the outpost location. They will develop red-level sigalerts in .02 seconds. Can you get Kory to hack one of those VF's targeting computers to display bogies at the likely escape routes by air and sea? Initiating pursuit in the decot codenamed 'Kylie'.>>

Back at the vantage point, the remote-presence operated prosthetic body codenamed 'Kylie' shot to her feet, executed the file zdincht8317.exe and immediately began pursuit of the sniper.

Faction you wish to join: The most logical faction to gain access to Riley's talents would have to be the Miners. As Department 5 is in part controlled by the Senate, and many of the Senators in the Department 5 have vested interests in varying shades of gray, and since the miners are looking for gold, which is used in circuitry, Senators that are part of the SCAM/MP Senate committee that oversees Department 5 might send her over to ensure the success of the operation.

Other Notes: For the sake of the secrecy of Department 5, Riley would have made certain that records of her were altered: She would appear to all records but those given to the operation's leader to be a periodic corporate observer. Ivan Emtwelve would in fact be listed as a completely seperate mercenary, even to the operation's leader.

Username: Angelbell

Name: Angelbell

Description: The kitsune has red wavy hair that hangs down to the middle of her back. Only it's rarely seen, as she mostly tries to keep it braided. Her eyes are strikingly blue, and her skin porcelain white. She has fox ears pointing through the top of her red hair, along with a fluffy tail hanging behind her. She stands at 5'2" and weighs in at 115 pounds.

She wears a red and black kimono with long flowing sleeves, and a white cloak with red embroidery around the sleeves and the hood. Just below her left shoulder of her cloak there was an emblem stitched on it to symbolize her kingdom, it was a red, two headed Japanese dragon. Also, a small crown adorned her head to represent her status, which she typically hid by pulling her hood over her head.

There is a pearl necklace that hangs from her neck, barely visible. Only the ones that are close to her know much about its worth and existence.

Quirks: Angel is very ambitious; some would even mistake her for being snotty, considering the wealthy family she comes from. On the contrary she's quite the opposite, willing to help her friends and family at any given length.

Now that Angel is Queen, she has changed some. She's learned to be authoritative, but not too much. The sweetness that she always valued about herself was still there. Her temperament has just hardened, maybe a little colder.

Where as Angels senses are heightened, kitsune characteristics, she doesn't do hand to hand combat too well, strength is her weakness. If it came to that situation, her and another, hand to hand, shed try her best to win. Yes, its her weakness, but she has a lot of will-power and faith pulling for her.

Equipment: Angel wears a pendant around her neck, known as Aphrodite's Pearl. It strengthens her magic. If taken off her magic will weaken.

Strapped around her back is a quiver full of arrows, and around her shoulder is her bow. The quiver is made of sturdy leather, holding 36 arrows. The arrows were made from pine wood, made by a local craftsman. Nothing spectacular about it, except the bow was made with three different types of wood to provide the elasticity needed.

Abilities: Angelbell primarily heals, and casts light spells Her healing is done by the touch of her hand and her faith in the gods above.

The light spells consist of:

Ball of Light: Tosses a ball of light at the enemy, rendering them helpless for a couple of minutes.

Lightning Bolt: Fires a bolt of magical lightning at the target, inflicting great electrical and heat damage. However, it requires high amounts of energy.

Shield of Light: The Shield of Light spell creates a blessed shield, keeping it in existence around the allies within a ten foot radius, until she performs another spell to cancel it out.

Heal Wounds: It will repair external and internal damage to the victim's body.

Healing Circle: It carries out in a 10 foot radius, which cures small wounds of allies.

Sphere of Protection: The Sphere of Protection spell protects one single person that she puts it on. It gives them a protection shield for five minutes.

Holy Word: It's a holy attack on the undead, evaporating them into a dust when hit. The attack of holy light is at a 15 foot radius.

Blessed Be: She can bless any object or water that is near her.

Confound Enemies: This spell conjures up spectral light that obscures one from enemies. Projectile attacks including targeted magic, thrown weapons, and bows will find it more difficult to strike any employing it. The spell lasts for five minutes in a 200 foot radius.

The bow and arrow is a second ability. She is not fantastic at it, but her father's greatest warriors have shown her how to mark a spot with a decent accuracy.

The reason they chose bow and arrow is to keep a distance between her and battle, where she can handle long range attacks with her weapon and magic. Any close battle wouldn't do her justice. She doesn't have the strength for such combat.

History: Angelbell came from a wealthy family. Her dad is the King of Shinshuukoku a kitsune kingdom. Her mother passed away at the age of 14, killed by vampires that attacked the village. This has become a major reason Angelbell has a fear for vampires, but also despises them.

It was a large attack on the kingdom. The head vampires name was Vittoro. He had one thing on his mind and that was power. The main reason for his attack was building his own kingdom. Only it would consist of vampires, nothing more. He never wasted his food, if they gave up too much of a fight they became a feast for his followers. It was merely a cult, he had driven his group to thirst not only blood, but power.

That was the downside of living in a powerful kingdom. There was always someone looking to destroy it or take it over. This gave Angel reason to believe she was not made for royalty life. They were always living so guarded behind the castle walls. Her mother always told her, "The grass always looks greener on the other side." She always thought she was right. Her ambitions were not to follow her family footsteps, but to become her own person.

From this point of her mother's death, her father became very overprotective of her. Her father forbidding her to leave the premises of their kingdom without a guard present, at the age of 17, decided to take a leave from her overprotective father, and ran away from home.

When she left she wasn't sure where she was going. Maybe by the fates of the gods, she eventually landed in eastern Gaia. Her father has found her whereabouts, and has sent his guards out to bring her back.

She was destroyed at the loss of her mother, vowing that she would overcome this fear, and find the vampire, Vittoro, that had taken her mother from her. She has yet to find him still, but when she's about the streets of Gaia she finds small amounts of information on him. He isn't far from her, given time she'd find him shortly.

Angel has overcome some great battles in Gaia. Her powers have become more powerful, and understanding to her. First there was the Grand Wish. The battle fell hard for her and her friends, but luckily they all walked away alive. Then the Grand Battle, which is where Angel learned more on her gift from some other mages that were battling in the war. After what seemed months of battling, she left and returned home. She would have given more, but the battle was beginning to take a toll on her mind.

Her dearest friend, Rage, has become like a brother to her. As for her love, opaj, she has faltered greatly by leaving him once. She had been with two other men after he left, something that has proven would never work because her heart still ached for opaj. So, she has learned her errors from her ways, and looks forward to each small moment she spends with him.

For now, Angel resides in her father's castle. He has since passed away within the last year. The estate was given to her in default of her father's death, her being the only child. Being the new Queen doesn't give her much time for her friends. It was all responsibilities she never wished to endure, along with the fact that her people still wish for her to marry a man, and have someone to rule with her. The people don't know, but she is working on finding someone to take her spot in ruling the territory, someone fit enough to be king. She is too kind hearted to abandon them with a fool.

RP Sample: Angel sat upon the throne of her castle, her elbow on the arm of the throne, while her head rested in her hand. She sighed, watching her servants busy themselves with daily chores. Her tail hung off to one side, swaying gently, it was gaining its own rhythm, and nearly putting her to sleep.

Her liquid blues fluttered shut, mouth parted as she dozed off. The confines of the castle were boring her. She missed the old days. That's what she began to dream about, people of her past that had become part of her life and history.

It was a quaint dream, until the Father of Darkness began to probe her thoughts, enveloping her dream and pushing it aside. He was tall, hidden under a dark cloak. The only part of him visible was his beady red eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd entered her dream. He had so many times promised her an easy death, and she knew he could, possibly would some day. He wanted to be King of Shinshuukoku, nothing Angel would ever give him willingly.

Her visage stood out in the darkness, facing the man. Her ears pointed back, aware and alert of what was happening. "What do you want now?" She held an angry tone, full of vengeance.

He merely chuckled and it was like a cue for the darkness to slide around her, gripping her wrists and throat. "You know what I come for, and you know I will have it. I'm giving you the option to hand it over without death."

"No!" She growled at him, baring her teeth.

A black tendril slid over her throat tightening. Angel fought it, she had broken this before. It wasn't easy, but she'd done it. The single pearl from her necklace came to life, and her own magic thrust forward, holy and full of light. It shattered the tendril from her neck, and was working towards the rest.

"You grow stronger, child." The Father of Darkness laughed. "I will be back. I promise, unless you die upon the path of war that is about to become. I do not mind which way takes you first."

As quickly as she fell asleep she was now awake, perspiration hung from her brow. She ran a hand over her, licking her lips. War? What war? The only time she ever went to war was with her old friends. It was time to take a visit.

Faction you wish to join: The Settlers

Username: Kagesombra
Name: Hein Kage Griever
Description: Every day, the average person meets over 100 people before they go to bed for the night. But every once in a while, there’s that one face that simply gets ingrained into your memory. There’s no real reason for it to happen, but even the next day, or the next week, you still can vividly picture that person’s face at the drop of a hat. Hein is that face.

Drawing traits from his Western father and his Eastern mother, Hein has the best of both worlds really. The most noticeable thing about Hein though would be the fact that he’s not handsome. If anything, he’s…well, pretty, very pretty. In his life, he has, on multiple accounts, even been compared to women in terms of physical attraction as opposed to men. This, most likely, stems from his physical features. Facially, he takes after his mother. Unless you look real closely, it’s quite easy to mistake Hein for a woman at times due to the soft curve of his cheek, the rounded chin, and the silky soft complexion, all of which he takes from his mother’s side of the family. His eyes are exactly like his mother’s, small, yet crisp as the morning after a storm. Both eyes are a hazy gray, like the color of fog just as it begins to roll across the surface of a still lake at dawn. Even with all that he’s seen in his short life, the pain and stress of reality, Hein still has that youthful vigor, a hidden flame, burning behind his gaze. His hair, again coming from his mother’s physique, has a soft, silky texture, long strands of straight, black hair. Hein’s bangs fall over his gray eyes, the tussled hair style fitting him as a few random bunches of hair cover his forehead leaving spaces here and there. Around his ears, he makes a constant effort to keep his hair from covering them completely, but with his hair length, it’s a constant up-hill battle which usually just ends with his decision to let it cover the tips of his ears. Occasionally though, when he has his hair combed straight and parted to the side, it truly does become impossible to tell if he’s a male or a female.

His body is without any blemish or scar, the tan tone of skin, coming from his father’s family, being uniform across. While his shoulders aren’t broad and square, like most men, Hein maintains a fit form, like that of a runner, slim, lean, and even then, muscular. But his runner’s body also adds more to his feminine physique, his lack of shoulder span making him seem less manly, and the well-maintained body adding an almost curvy figure. The lack of cleavage is a noticeable area of neglect, but the hourglass-like curve, which most women even lack, is evident on Hein. Granted, when bare, any misconception disappears. His torso is toned and chiseled, a four-pack of muscle on his stomach. Hein almost seems as if he hasn’t an ounce of fat on his body with the way that his chest is so flat and rock solid. But all that stems from years of physical training and natural metabolism.

Hein’s arms are long and slender, seeming to be delicate as a flower when he dons long-sleeved clothes. Beneath the cloth though are steel-like muscles, hard and solid from use and exercise. His hands are no different. Each finger is slim and willowy almost, his hands smooth to the touch. The only real calluses are on his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers on his right hand, that stemming from using a bow so often. Barring that and the size of his hands, it’d be impossible to tell the difference between a woman’s touch and his.

Perhaps it was luck that gave him height as well as beauty that most women would kill for, but whatever the reason, Hein’s legs hold the same feminine grace that the rest of his body carries while, at the same time, takes after his father’s height, reaching nearly 6’2 when standing straight. Slim, slender, and naturally hairless, his legs, even despite his running status, are, for lack of a better term, sexy. True, his calves are muscular, a noticeable fact when he wears short pants, but when covered with long socks and pants, it’s impossible to tell the difference between man and woman.

When out and about, he opts for comfortable, functional clothes, usually clothes that will save him from the awkward situation that arises when a stranger asks his gender. Such an outfit can consist of anything in terms of colors, but in terms of clothes, he’ll usually opt for a button-up shirt and jacket combination while taking special care to find matching pants for the shirt. He favors jeans simply for their durability and how comfortable they fit. To finish it all off, Hein picks from several pairs of shoes, most frequently opting for his brown loafers, incidentally, the most worn of all his pairs. As for when Hein is out in the field, there isn’t too much of a difference in his thoughts. Granted, in this instance, he leans more towards functionality than anything. With his expertise of nature, Hein favors the earth colors, brown and green being his staple choices. For starters, he usually wears a ribbed, double-stitch cloth shirt, a deep brown color that blends well with the woodlands. On top of that, he wears a darker brown vest, reinforced with a layer of Kevlar between two layers of hardened leather. The one area where he selects comfort over functionality is his pants. Hein wears a pair of worn pantaloons, the color being a deep olive color which blends in quite well with leaves and foliage. Keeping with the color scheme, Hein finishes the outfit with a pair of water-proofed leather boots, the insides lined with fur for warmth and protection.
Quirks: Is he a woman or a man? Or we could just leave it at androgynous. One of Hein’s little quirks is just how feminine he looks and, at times, seems. Although it usually works out in a shallow, yet beneficial way for Hein, at times it is the death of him. On more than one account, he’s been attacked by women, both verbally and physically, for supposed attempts on stealing their significant others. Not to mention the sheer number of men that have tried to check him out are endless.

Another idiosyncrasy on Hein’s part is his moral code. In the day of technology and money, morals have gone out the window. The only moral you need is “Obey the dollar”. But Hein thinks otherwise. As if he were living in the Middle Ages, Hein adheres to a strict code of moral conduct that spans from simple actions, like pulling out chairs for ladies or bowing to elders, to more…eccentric mannerisms, like not being able to hit women…even in the face of a kick to the groin. While at times his morals are the death of him, the usual case is a sense of respect, whether pity-respect or genuine, for the out-of-place deeds of a new-age gentleman.

But perhaps the most devastating out of all of his unorthodox habits is his rather unique phobia. Scientifically, it’s referred to as “Eurotophobia”. But in laymen’s terms, it’s a fear of the female genitalia. However, for some odd reason, flat-chested women have little to no effect on him. But, if there are noticeable breasts, he’s rendered paralyzed with close to no ability to speak coherently. In most cases, this is fairly harmless and he just seems like an innocent boy. But if a female enemy were to get her hands on this information, she would, for lack of a better term, own Hein…own him badly.
Equipment: Hein travels fairly light with a Bowie Knife (1) and a unique bow (2) as his only weapons. In terms of armor, he wears a thumb ring (3) and has light leather armor, with the coup de grace being his Kevlar-reinforced leather chest armor (4)

1) Damascus - Hein’s knife, like other large blade knives, is called a “Bowie Knife”. Its full length is a little over a foot, the blade accounting for most of the length. The handle is slightly curved, just enough so that it fits his hand perfectly when gripped. Leather wraps have been tied around the original ivory to add for a better grip. The guards are copper alloy, the bronze color being dominant in the metal. The blade of the knife on the other hand is a bit unique. Made from a rare metal known as “damascus”, the blade of Hein’s knife is the color of smoke, gray and suffocating. But even with that dull color, the knife seems to have a sheen all its own and even without sharpening, remains keen as a midwinter’s eve.

2) Artemis Bow - A unique bow that Hein obtained by complete chance during a trip to Greece. While in daylight, the bow is a simple composite bow, free of any decoration save for a linen bandage across the wood. All in all, an ordinary bow. But, once the sun sets and the moon’s light hits the wooden bow, it becomes anything but ordinary. Aligned with the power of the moon, the Artemis Bow shows its true form at the first sign of night. The simple reflex bow is no more. Vines of ivy seem to sprout from the bandaged grip on the middle of the limb, looping and coiling all around the curved arms until they reach the tips. At that point, they began to coil around the bowstring, tightening, strengthening, and reinforcing the original thread with a gossamer-like strand of vine. All along the length of the wood, golden runes etch themselves in, soaking in moonlight and glowing faintly as if they were fireflies. And for all the beauty and decoration, the Artemis Bow is, by no means, just a pretty thing. Just by holding the weapon, the wisdom and prowess of thousands of years seems to flow into the holder, filling them with knowledge beyond knowledge of the hunt.

“But what does he use for ammo?” might be one of your questions. When Hein pulls back on the gossamer-like bowstring, a bolt of energy forms from his fingertips to the middle of the curved limb, an “arrow” forming for him to shoot just as soon as he pulls back. This unlimited supply of ammo allows for as many shots as he wishes. Pending the length of how far he pulls back and how long he keep the bowstring drawn, the destructive power of the energy arrow changes. However, he can only charge for a total of 10 seconds, after which point the bolt becomes so unstable that more damage is done to his arms than could be done to the target.

The biggest set-back to this bow, however, is the dormancy period during the day. During the daylight hours, the Artemis Bow is nothing more than an ordinary reflex bow.

3) Thumb Ring - A simplistic piece of jewelry that Hein wears on his thumb to protect it. His thumb ring is made of ivory, resting over the end of his thumb and stopping at the outer edge of the joint. Extending from the ring is a flat surface, just large enough to protect the thumb from the bowstring, but small enough to not add too much clutter. The ring has no other colors save for the natural creamy white of the ivory that it is made from. Using the thumb ring while drawing his bow, Hein manages to maximize the power behind each arrow allowing his shots to extend to a total distance of 1 kilometer on average.

4) Reinforced Leather - All of Hein’s armor is leather, a useful material for movement as well as protection. In most cases, specifically his pantaloons, the armor consists of hardened leather, reinforced with, usually, a second layer of leather. However, in the instance of his chest armor, there is a slightly different situation. Hein’s chest armor consists of the usual dual layer of hardened leather. Shaped like a harness, it consists of a wrap-around layer which goes around the lower portion of his torso, resting on the hips, and is held up by two straps going over each shoulder. However, between the outer and inner layers, there is a third layer of Kevlar weaved in. This provides considerably more protection for his torso both from melee and long-range attacks (ie. blunt hits or bullets). This, by no means, makes him invincible. It merely pads the blow, with the occasional fault leading to a pierce through.
Abilities: The abilities section will be divided into two categories which consist of: (a) Skills of the Mark (b) Skills of the Hunt

Skills of the Mark | As per the name, this branch of skills deals with the area of marksmanship. This includes, but is not limited to, any offensive technique having to do with the bow. Incorporated in this skill tree are also the skills which make a marksman.

:: Hawk Eye – The average person, if they’re lucky, will have 20/20 vision with corrective eye surgery. But that still only lets you read 4th to last line from the bottom of the eye exam chart. Hein, however, is different…very different.

Tracing it to exposure to the Artemis Bow, Hein has developed a 20/2 vision, like that of a hawk. This has left him with eyesight up to 8 times more acute than even the best human, allowing his accuracy and vision to go far beyond the human limits. However, the fun doesn’t stop there. While time of day still does have an effect on his range of vision, by no means does it hinder him to the point of being useless. Even at night, Hein maintains above perfect vision. He simply takes longer to focus. Also, when firing an energy bolt, Hein is able to see the arrow’s path and final destination in even the darkest of areas, his eyes having developed a strange acuity to the aura of his projectiles.

The one major drawback to this extended vision is the sensitivity to bright light. When there is a sudden flash of light (ie. flash from camera) Hein’s eyes, due to the whole 20/2 vision schpiel, are blinded. This leaves him dazed and without any stability for a short amount of time, but even in that small time window, it’s cake to take care of him.

:: Hunter’s Mark – Exactly as the name sounds. You know how you hear that animals piss on their territory to make it smell a certain way and indicate that it’s been claimed? Well, this skill’s along the same lines. First, Hein draws his bow and fires off a thin bolt of stable energy. When it hits the target, no damage occurs. None at all. It’s like being stabbed with one of those cheap, plastic feathers. No pain. The effect, however, is that the hit target becomes a moving, glowing target. Coupled with Hein’s “Hawk Eye” vision, the target, covered in a faint aura of energy, becomes the proverbial “sore thumb” and sticks out regardless of the time of day.

:: Barrage Strafe – You know that scene in “Saving Private Ryan” where they’re storming the beaches on D-Day? And you know that scene where they’re all basically mowed down by German machine guns? Yea? Picture that, except with a bow.

Capable of being used only with the Artemis Bow, Hein strafes a 3 meter width in front of him. To start, he begins by charging a bolt of energy anywhere between 5 and 10 seconds, the longer being the more deadly the barrage. After the bolt reaches a large size, he “splits it”. Now, you’re probably quoting Gary Coleman and asking “What you talking ‘bout, Willis?” For one, my name’s not Willis. And two, it’s simple. The bolt, after the 5-second mark, becomes shaped quite noticeably like a Gladius, the bolt widening as it reaches the other end, only to sharply end in a point. With the gain in width, Hein is able to split it with a none-too-gentle press of his fingers. After having split the bolt, he then releases and fires off a barrage of energy arrows, peppering the targeted area and leaving little to no room to dodge.

:: Sidewinder – Exactly like the name states. The Sidewinder is an energy bolt shot that Hein can curve up to two times before losing control.

Like the Barrage Strafe, the Sidewinder is only capable of being used while using the Artemis Bow. This is due to the fact that it relies on the energy bolts which come with the enchanted weapon. By making a thin, almost needle-like bolt, Hein creates a shaft for flight and piercing. Compared to the length time needed for the Barrage Strafe, this bolt is considerably easier to prepare, thus making for a faster attack. After firing, Hein invokes his ability to watch the arrow’s trajectory and looks for obstacles as well as the final target. At most, he is able to curve the bolt twice, both times only at a maximum measure of 45 degrees.

The resulting attack is a knife-like wound, a stab more so than anything. While it’s a single bolt, the sheer speed at which Hein fires it at makes it no easy task to dodge.

Skills of the Hunt | This branch of skills stems from survival skills ranging from trapping to concealing. Mainly, these skills will be either group supportive or anti-group as opposed to the singular aspect of the Mark tree.

:: Obscurity – He hides. He hides really well.

That’s basically the gist of it really. Using the nature and resources around him, Hein disguises himself as best as he can and becomes one with the scenery. He’s gotten to the point where at first glance, you don’t even notice that he’s there, hidden. This allows him to sneak about unnoticed, which, in turn, allows him to set-up traps without any interruption. The drawback is that when combing the area with a watchful eye, it’s not that hard to spot him when looking carefully.

:: Ankle Snare – A rather simplistic, yet extremely useful trap. The ankle snare can be made of nearly anything; a young tree branch, a strong vine, rope, a bear trap. You name it. Like with the pitfall, Hein uses leaves and other supplies to conceal it well enough that unsuspecting fools won’t notice until after they’re immobilized, but lightly enough that it won’t interfere with the working of the trap.

The type of snare that Hein usually uses is a noose-like loop that is hooked around the victim’s foot. At that point, he pulls the other end and tightens the noose around their ankle, successfully immobilizing them at least for the duration of time that they look for the rope that they’re tied with.

:: Pitfall – You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. And I honestly don’t need to explain it, but for the sake of this profile, I guess I have to.

It’s a hole. In the ground. Actually, scratch that. It’s a concealed hole in the ground with leaves and other foliage, usually a lattice network of young branches, to give the impression of solid ground. And, as you can probably tell, this one takes some time to prepare, mainly in the area of digging a large enough, deep enough hole in the ground for people to fall into. Therefore, there’s no real use for this outside of a single situation where Hein has the time and effort to prepare for an enemy attack.

Why’s he have it? Simple enough really. It’s a pitfall. Everyone loves a good pitfall.
History: “What should we name him?”

“He’s so small…I don’t know, honey…how about ‘Hein’?”

“…mm…no. I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Kage’…‘Hein’ just leaves so much room for him to be made fun of…”

“What are you talking about? Hein’s a perfectly fine name. My grandfather’s name was Hein.”

“…and I bet that he got made fun of as well…”

And no marriage is without compromise, so at 8 PM on January 22nd, Hein Kage Griever was born to a loving, and slightly loopy, couple. Even at his birth, he was obviously marked for being…well, peculiar. His mother and father did the best to look past it, both much too preoccupied with their respective careers of head chef and CEO, to notice their son’s surfacing irregularities.

It had started out small, the occasional yelp or mewl whenever his nurse attempted to breastfeed him. An action that escalated from childish frivolity to annoyance as the teething babe, on more than one account, attempted to bite the nanny’s n****e. Imagine the surprise on the poor woman’s face when she expected gums and got a budding tooth instead. Needless to say, Hein’s mother and father needed to hire a new nurse shortly afterwards. But, strangely enough, it didn’t stop simply with breasts. Whenever his mother made that occasional time slot and bathed him, he, quite literally, bawled. It was like she was the grim reaper or some other phantasm, come to frighten him. Poor woman had to receive maternal counseling for weeks while the father had to bathe his son. But the fun didn’t stop there.

As Hein began to…mature, the hired help, and even his mother and father, began to notice certain changes. All boys reach that time in life where they meet the 3 H’s: hairy, husky, and horny. To sum it up nicely, people even made that wonderful word “puberty”. But Hein? He was an oddity of sorts. Most boys begin to beef up once they reach that period of life. Their shoulders become broader, their voices deeper, and their mannerisms, for lack of a better term, more barbaric. He, on the other hand, seemed to slim down. His shoulder stayed the same width they were, slight and narrow. His voice remained pleasant, sweet, and very, very feminine, more so than most women for that matter. But the biggest thing was his personality. How could it be said? Hein…well, Hein could charm the pants off of a man. Not a wo-man, but a man. Around when he reached his mid-teens, catcalls became commonplace for him. In private school, he received 6 proposals from girls and 9 from boys. 9 different boys went up to him and told him that they liked him. To say that he wasn’t the least bit confused would have been a lie.

His mother and father were oblivious to his growing feminine nature, their eyes focused entirely on work and nothing else. So the worry fell entirely onto the shoulders of the hired help. Were it not for one father-like butler, Hein may have very well ended up as Heinette by his 17th birthday. His name was Waltah, a kindly old gentleman from England who had been with the Griever household since before Hein had even been born. And it was through this old man’s guidance that Hein took up archery, his only way to remember that he had a trouser snake not brassier bazookas. But even the most strenuous training through archery did nothing for Hein’s figure. He still looked just as alluring as before. The true effect lied in his personality. Sure, he was still girly occasionally, but that was just for the occasional kicks and giggles here and there. He became, for lack of a more fitting word, a gentleman.

Over the next few years, Hein would continue to flourish, taking his feminine looks in stride and using them to his advantage every so often. At the age of 23, he entered into his father’s company, Angelic Enterprises, as the new face of the business. Business began its boom and the company reached new highs that it had never seen before. All in all, life was good…no, better than good. Life was perfect.

So why then did he come all the way out the middle of nowhere to help in some territory battle that he had no real interest in? No reason outside of human imperfection. Greed begets greed, and when one believes that they have it all, it’s only natural to want even more.
RP Sample: Every day, all across the world, nameless lives are lost not to gang violence or terrorism, but rather, those lives are lost because the people no longer wish to live. Anything can ignite such an emotion, a cold, gripping despair that wrenches all life out of the body, squeezing it dry as if it were a laden sponge. In some cases, it could be being laid off. Others, it may be a failed relationship. And of course, there are always the misunderstood souls that decide, all for themselves, that only Death could truly understand their convoluted hearts. But those souls, do they perhaps wonder what the aftermath of their war with themselves creates? Do they know that their inferno of an act does not, in fact, end anything? Instead that it creates new problems for those that they leave behind? Most likely not. Most likely all the soul is thinking about are the woes and troubles that led them up into that point, up until the point where the blade rests at the skin, or where the pills are in their hands. Probably, all they think about are themselves. And in one blonde playboy's case, it was, by no means, any different.

“Hein Griever…Mr. Nice Guy. Haha…what a load of horseshit. Biggest Flirt? I guess I was…heh. If only they could see me now…”

Hein Griever, 21 years old, blonde, blue eyes. Weighing in at 167 lbs. and standing at a height of 6 foot nothing. And there he was, laying on his bed, box-cutter twirling between his fingers. What was wrong with this scene? What could have possibly driven a growing teenage boy, with the hottest woman in school for a girlfriend, to want to kill himself? Maybe it was just a build-up of pent in stress, anger and emotions bottled within himself after having been conditioned and raised to be nothing less, or even more, than a gentleman? Or perhaps it was the friend that he had hurt, that he had given himself completely to, yet still had scarred beyond belief? Who knew? The only person that could answer those questions was Hein himself, and as he gently began to scrape the flat of the razor against his skin, it was clear that he wasn’t talking.

As he looked up at the ceiling, he felt at peace in the darkness of his room. He had kept the lights off, of all things, fearful that if he saw the blade cutting into his flesh that he might falter. But it worked in other ways as well. All the doubts that tried to press up against the walls of his heart seemed to ebb away with the last fading hours of daylight, the setting sun’s last rays attempting to pervade the final act through the closed shutters of his window.

Tilting his head, Hein gazed tiredly at the sealed envelope on his nightstand. It was his will, his thoughts and final goodbyes all written into a neat format, all waiting for some soul to find. He had written it nearly a month beforehand, occasionally pulling out the death note to revise or edit as he saw fit. By the time he had finished, it was a mere 2 pages, nothing amazing, nothing riveting. For a life that had meddled with so many others, his end remark was rather plain and simple; ironic in a way. A sense of comfort arose from inside his body, relaxing every muscle, clearing away every thought, and, ultimately, preparing him for the first, and final, soliloquy. He had his times of play. He had his times of love. And now? Now, it was time for his time to stop.

As the last rays of stray sunlight began to disappear, fading into night, he sighed, a simple sigh, as his body fell. The box-cutter, forgotten, fell to the floor of his room, clattering against the floorboards as the few stray droplets of crimson life splattered across the wood. Had it been any other day, perhaps Hein would have acted and cleaned up the mess. But today, today he would relax and sleep for a while. Let the mess grow. It was out of his hands now. Who cared if stray droplets became puddles? And puddles became pools? The final act was over now, the thick, dark curtains closing over his eyes, and all the stress, all the worries, all the mistakes that were made and might’ve been, they were all swept away by a river of scarlet.

Perhaps, in some other life, it wouldn’t have come to this. Perhaps, if he had spoken instead of stayed silent, this would not have happened. But all of those endings, all of those acts, those were simply “maybes”. Dreams drive life forward. Dreams of success, dreams of wealth, dreams of love, dreams of marriage, all sorts of dreams provide fuel. But in reality, that is all they are; dreams, not truths. The reality was that Hein Griever cut open his wrist that day at exactly 7:31 PM. The reality was that he bled to death, his bed soaked through with scarlet. The reality is that he committed suicide. That was his curtain call for the end of his play. That was his reality…

---------------------------------------------

“Eesh…sends shivers down my spine. I hope that’ll be able to satiate the reviewer’s palettes though. They wanted something unnerving and what not. And what’s scarier than writing about your own death?”

Yawning, Hein Griever pushed away from his computer desk, his office chair rolling across worn away linoleum as the wheels rolled along the familiar road off his office. Stretching his arms over his head, he pulled himself with his feet, waddling across the carpet, over to his mini-fridge, the open door filling the otherwise dark study with a dim, eerie light as he pulled out a Starbucks Frappuccino and popped open the top from the glass bottle. Those were the kicks though. With money came late night working. And with late night working came caffeine addictions. A vicious cycle that no one could ever escape from, that was the life of Hein Griever.

“Phew…oh well, back to work I guess…”
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