Glacier's few but devious miscreants, who knows if I'll ever have more than one character but I hope you enjoy the first!
☀ Dante Blizzards ☀
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2015 3:33 pm
Alternate Images may be used depending on situation.
▅▅Dante Blizzards▅▅
╠ ɢ ᴇ ɴ ᴇ ʀ ᴀ ʟ x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆Usᴇʀɴᴀᴍᴇ:lGlacier
◆ Fᴜʟʟ Nᴀᴍᴇ: Dante James Blizzards
◆ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s)/Aʟɪᴀs(ᴇs): Dante, Ice Cube, Glacier
◆ Aɢᴇ: 17 Years of Age
◆ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Male Icecube
◆ Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: December 17
◆ Oʀɪɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Yakutsk, Russia (Travels Often)
╠ ᴅ ᴇ ᴛ ᴀ ɪ ʟ x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Tᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ / Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs: Dante has a "Bratva" Tattoo over his left breast, a marking that shows his affiliation with the Russian brotherhood.
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss: Excessive heat bothers Dante to no end, fire is a problem at all times. Aside from this, Dante has issues dealing with quick opponents that are capable of limiting his time to craft Ice. Ranged opponents have an advantage against Dante in the fact that he has few ranged attacks, his only retaliation being wind propelled particles of Ice. Opponents that can displace themselves have a strong advantage considering all of Dante's attacks are considered physical, with elemental twists.
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs: Dante prides himself on versatility, using both Ice and Wind to achieve his goals. His ability with Ice craft allows him to create three variations, Black, White, and Luminescent Ice (See below) that have their own advantages and disadvantages; chosen after considering his situation. As far as Wind goes, Dante enjoys augmenting his Ice creations with wind through propulsion; creating deadly projectiles or using shards of Ice to create an environmentally hazardous blizzard. With fire being one of his greatest weaknesses, wind does well in buffeting flames and depriving them of Oxygen in a makeshift vacuum; but takes time to do so.
◆ Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 6'1"
◆ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 192 lb
◆ Pʜʏsɪǫᴜᴇ: Wiry physique, well toned with sufficient muscle mass. Often mistaken for a Physica, but has the average strength of any other human at his size.
◆ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs: ✗ Heat ✗ Ignorance and pigheaded individuals ✗ Failure, being insufficient
╠ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀs / sᴋɪʟʟs / ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs / ᴇᴛᴄ. x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Aᴜʀᴀ Tʏᴘᴇ:: Elemental
◆ Aᴜʀᴀ Aʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs:: ☀ Ice Craft: Dante has worked for years crafting his own kind of Ice, using his magic to give it different attributes. As of now, he has finished his last type, and can now create three different kinds of ice. These can be crafted into basic constructions, such as a wall, blade, or rather simple armor. Black Ice: A dark tinted creation that is extremely durable, mimics the strucutral integrity of an armored car but sacrifices it's chill in return. +Durability : -Easy to melt White/Light Ice: Nearly translucent, this creation is highly resistant to heat and is difficult to melt. It can last a long time in a hot environment, but is rather fragile and can be shattered with ease. +Heat resistance : -Fragile Luminescent Ice: This Ice glows majestically for whatever reason, during it's craft it seems to take in the colors of a prism and attract those that are weak minded into inspecting it. This Ice, while both fragile and prone to heat is explosive. With a mental command from it's creator, the Ice will surge with it's glow before exploding violently to create a barrage of Ice shards. These shards are small, but sharp enough to pierce bare skin and light clothing where they will soon melt afterwards. (Imagine porcupine quills) +Explosive and alluring -Fragile and melts easily
☼Harrows Wind: Dante manipulates the wind currents around him and the air in his vicinity, typically using it to propel his Ice crafts or create an artificial blizzard. In addition to simple bolstering of what he creates, Dante can use the wind to buffet his enemies (No damage) to stagger them and buy time, and with enough time Dante can quell fires by creating vaccums where the fire dies out immediately with an absolute lack of oxygen. By shifting it so his comrades and self can still breath, Dante can limit oxygen use of his opponents and fire casts but he is easily disturbed since Dante must remain still while manipulating the wind. It takes immense focus, so having an ally defend him while he works the wind is an effective strategy.
◆ Exᴛʀᴀ Aʙɪʟɪᴛʏ::[Locked] Ice Born: Dante freezes over from the inside, his entire body turning into a combination of his three types of Ice. No organs or blood remain, and he essentially becomes a walking, versatile tank that can use any of his three types of Ice as an offensive or defensive tool. While in this state, Dante may swell in size as the Ice grows; or diminish as it melts, one thing is for certain, Dante must have enough Ice left to safely return to flesh and blood. After using this state, Dante can heal from grievous wounds once he returns; managing to stop a serious injury by becoming Ice, and repairing himself while in that state.
◆ Pᴇᴛ: Sif, a young Siberian Husky pup given to him as a gift from a Bratva leader. One of few dog breeds accustomed to the cold Dante craves.
◆ Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s): MP-443 grach, (Small sidearm pistol) with a box of bullets. Dante has never used a firearm outside of firing practice on cans with his father, but this sidearm is a parting gift from his Dad and his friends in the Bratva.
◆ Cʜᴇʀɪsʜᴇᴅ Iᴛᴇᴍ(s):: It's somewhat cheesy, and he will never admit it but Dante's earrings help him remember his mother.
╠ ʙ ᴀ ᴄ ᴋ ɢ ʀ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ᴅ x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Dante isn't the most social of students, but he's great at pretending that he is. After traveling for half his life, he's grown accustomed to spending his time meeting new people and clients that his father worked with. Dante is patient, calm, and collected, but he is also passionate and driven about his causes and can be stubborn if he doesn't respect whoever is on the other side of an argument; he enjoys giving directions and coming up with answers, but has a small problem with taking orders. Despite this, Dante will rarely get angry or voice any concerns about what upsets him, should he do so, please immediately direct Dante to the nearest freezer.
◆ Bɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ: Dante was born to an American woman, and Russian man in Yakutsk. It was an odd attraction, a woman moving overseas for work meeting the supplier of the Bratva organization; apparently they had a connection and he had to bring in supplies on the regular, and the woman had always caught his father's eyes. It didn't take long for the two to start seeing each other, leading to Dante's conception; nothing truly changed. His mother took care of him at their apartment in Yakutsk, with his father stopping by whenever his job allowed a break or a shipment to come their way. At first, Dante showed no signs of being an elemental, he lived normally within the city and went to school like any other child should; his only problem in life coming from his neighbor who bothered his mother from time to time. As a child, Dante thought nothing of it, now, the idea of not realizing sooner haunts his dreams.
Dante was 8 when it happened, a blizzard had been blasting throughout the city for nearly a week leaving most citizens at home while they waited for it to blow over. Because of this, their neighbor grew even more restless and annoying; drinking what alcohol he had left to bide his time. He was a terrible drunk, but neither he nor his parents took him for the kind of man to force himself upon someone. The noise of the door breaking in woke Dante, but he didn't move immediately; he had first thought that he had simply imagined it, but then the shouting started up. He recognized his mother's voice immediately, but his neighbor was silent. By the time that Dante had left his room, the shouting had risen and he was sure the whole floor could hear them now; the walls were paper thin after all. The two were fighting, their neighbor trying to push his mother up against a wall when Dante cried out; shocking his neighbor, who was now incredibly upset after being denied. Why wasn't his father here when they needed him? Dante wailed, but that only upset the drunkard; who tossed his frail mother aside like she was nothing. Her head hit their coffee table and her neck snapped immediately, the sound making Dante retch on the spot; the drunkard, in a moment of clarity went to check on his mother giving him time to recover. After half a minute, Dante's stomach was empty and he dry heaving, his body quivering as he looked up at the man that was shouting at himself as he realized Dante's mother was dead. He looked crazy at that moment, slamming his hand down on their coffee table, his voice going down to a mutter until he finally looked over to himself. Dante knew what to do then, and he did it faster than the man could react; he ran, ran as fast as he could while the man fumbled to get to his feet and kick his mother's body away from him since it was on his lap after checking her pulse. Dante managed to get out of the building, his small legs crunching in the snow as the blizzard roared on around him. In there, he managed to escape.
By all reason Dante should have died there. If he wasn't an Elemental, he would have. Minutes into running for his life, Dante fell to his knees in the snow; having it come up to his waist as he sat there in tears. The Blizzard roared on, but as Dante stopped crying he looked around. The snow wasn't getting in his eyes? He no longer felt the chill of snow hitting him, as he glanced around now he realized that in his fit he didn't notice the wind shaping around him. It redirected the blizzard around him, and as for the cold.. He was freezing, but it no longer bothered him like it should have. He was supposed to be numb, his limbs should feel heavy but Dante never felt more alive. Surely some of that was from the adrenaline for running, but this was different.. The snow at his feet felt comforting, felt right. Dante rested in that snow until the blizzard died down, and then he hid; always close enough to his home to see if his father returned, but far enough to run if his neighbor ever got close. The day that the blizzard died down his father returned, and Dante ran out to meet him; at first crying all over again as he tried to explain just what happened, and as he finished, his Father who was obviously choked up merely nodded and set his son in the passenger seat of his car and pulled out his phone. He was on it for maybe twenty minutes, trying to keep his voice calm as he talked to whoever was on the other line. Only ten minutes after he hung up another car pulled up in their parking lot, two men getting out and approaching his father. It was then that his father asked Dante to stay there and wait for daddy to come back, he smiled softly and ruffled his hair before walking off with his friends. Dante watched him go, and as they disappeared from sight he swore he could see his father pulling something out from behind his back.
Dante realized now what had happened, but back then he simply waited patiently. His mother had been found just as he told his father, from there his dad told him they had taken care of the problem. After that, Dante could no longer live in Yakutsk and instead lived with his father on the road. For years that was his life, driving with his father and visiting wherever the job took them. With his life on the road, he had little to do but practice the magic he had now discovered. When his father drove large trucks he spent hours in the back of them creating Ice from nothing, having it appear in front of him like it had been there to begin with. As for wind, his father had been surprised that ever since he had taken his son with him the blizzards and snowstorms never bothered the truck much. It wasn't until he was ten that he told his father about his abilities, and thankfully his father gave him the chance to show him; believing him fully and supporting him as he practiced on the road. Apparently, his father had heard of individuals with those powers before, the Bratva organization worked to collect a few whenever they could but his father never turned him in. Instead, life went on, Dante practicing magic on his own whenever he could. It was then that he started to create his own kind of Ice, to shape it and craft it into different forms. At thirteen he perfected the Black Ice, at fourteen he manged the Light Ice; all the while meeting all of his father's clients and friends in the Bratva organization; picking up on the trade bit by bit. When Dante turned sixteen, his father couldn't be prouder of his son. He was self taught, studying what he deemed worthwhile, as for his Father, he got home school lessons in the form of how to drive at fourteen, how to use a lockpick, and how to hotwire a car should the need arise. Aside from the criminal talents, his father did manage to teach a few worthwhile skills; Dante knew how to change a tire rather quickly, his wind manipulation could stop the snow from obstructing their path forward but he couldn't stop rocks and the like from cutting up their tires; as well as their engine from breaking down. From jumping cars, filling in coolant and working in the engine itself, Dante learned how to treat large trucks and small cars with the respect they needed. He felt good about himself at 16, but that all changed when December hit.
It was supposed to be a normal drive, only this time his father had a few of his friends tagging along behind them as they headed back to Yakutsk to deliver a few crates they kept in the back. Dante suspected weapons, but he didn't ask questions; instead he sat in the passenger seat, mindlessly diverting the snowstorm to the side of their cars to help them get through and fiddling with a sphere of black Ice he kept rolling around in his palm. He was on the verge of making something new, but couldn't quite get there; it was in the middle of his musings that the attack came forth. Somewhere, deep in northern Russia a rift had opened and let loose a monstrosity larger than his father's greatest truck; as it roared, both he and his father looked to their rear view mirrors as bullets flashed in the snow. Two cars back, a gunner was shooting out at a nightmarish creature as it came crashing towards them; with one leap taking out the gunner's car. The two fell to one side of the road, the car smashed beneath it's weight as an explosion rang out; shaking the truck as Dante fought to get a better look now that it was on his side. That explosion didn't hinder it for long, and he could barely hear his father shout "Hold on!" as their entire caravan drove as fast as they could. Dante grit his teeth and set to work, opening his window up and sitting on the sill; his father was shouting, but Dante couldn't hear a word of it. He was focusing, and if he didn't, he was afraid that another of their party would be slaughtered by that monstrosity. The snowstorm around them picked up, what was originally a mild storm soon became a full blizzard; it buffeted Dante for but a moment before being redirected, hail being created by Dante's magic as the two other cars caught up and stuck as close to his father's truck as possible. The beast was right on their tail, and has Dante created a hailstorm of Black Ice; using the wind to buffet the creature and shred it's skin, he knew that he wasn't doing enough. The beast was still coming, gaining ground as it ran, within minutes it would overtake them. Light Ice would do nothing for them now, the stronger, durable Black Ice wasn't enough; as shards in a storm they just weren't enough to stop that creature. It was then that Dante thought of the explosion of the car, how it had hurt the beast and he soon got to work; imagining it, what needed be done, how it could be done, Dante took a deep breath and soon put his plan into action. From the blizzard, new kinds of Ice began to form; that which glowed with the lights of an aurora, the hail was sharpened to a dangerous point and as it buffeted the monstrosity behind them Dante made sure that enough of his creations were hitting it's legs. He was growing tired, he had just crafted his third kind of Ice and had been making the others for a good while, not to mention controlling the wind, he wanted to rest.. But he had to finish this. As the Ice started to pile in, stuck within the creature's body, only remaining there and not melting due to the chill of the storm, Dante waited for the last vestige's of his power before setting it off. There was no sound of an explosion, just a roar of pain that threatened to burst his eardrums as the ice imploded on itself; sending shards of Ice all throughout the monstrosity, particularly it's legs. With a loud thud the beast fell forward, it's blood spilling out onto the road as the cars managed to get away. It roared and roared, struggling to move; it was still alive, and Dante was too tired and too weak to do anything more. He slumped against the hood of the car trying to catch his breath, his eyesight blurring as he felt himself falling from his perch on the window. If it weren't for his father catching his collar as he fell, Dante would have cracked his skull on the road that night.
Dante woke a day later, coming to with his father at his bedside. Where was he? Dante glanced around trying to gain his bearings, but he didn't recognize the room he was in. It was a well furnished room with elaborate decor, in the corner of the room sat a large white dog nursing her young. The mom looked up at him as he glanced their way, but Dante's eyes moved on quickly. His dad was too happy to see his son wake to explain first, no, the next man to enter did that for him. It was a leader of the Bratva who happened to be all smiles, but his smile in particular was different; one that remained still and powerful, like he was happy with himself rather than others. The man thanked Dante for what he had done, causing the kid to raise a brow in question. The man laughed at that before settling in and explaining how they knew what Dante had done, and who he was. From there on, Dante's life had changed again. The Bratva knew of him, and they did well to introduce him into the organization; a month later and he had the tattoo marking his left breast, showing his affiliation and "undying loyalty". The man that had greeted him as he awoke had become something as a guardian to him, showing him the ropes of the organization; even going so far as giving the youth one of the pups he had seen earlier as a gesture of good will. The pup was still young, hardly a month old with fur as white as snow; it was a kind gesture, but Dante didn't know what the man planned to gain from it. As an aura, he and others of the same sort retained an odd form of respect in the organization; but he was still young, younger than any other that was there so he still needed to be trained. For the majority of his time, it was only hand to hand combat, mostly brawling of a sort that the men enjoyed to work with should they ever get caught without a firearm. Nothing professional. Thankfully, despite his secret getting out he was allowed to stay with his father; but now, Dante was respected as a member. He wasn't just his father's son who tagged along, and the clients knew that now as they visited. It was different, getting used to respect like that, but Dante didn't mind it and wouldn't admit to enjoying it.
A week after his 17th birthday, it was business as usual up until a messenger came for them. They expected it to be a job, something they needed to take care of or deliver but as the man explained why he was there they both were confused. There was a letter, and it wasn't for them to bring anywhere, it was for Dante. His father looked at the messenger quizzically, asking him who had sent it and what for but the man knew nothing, he only handed it over and went on his way. Dante and his father exchanged glances at that, both eyeing the envelope for a good minute before his father handed it over to him and leaned back against the hood of the truck. "Well, what does it say?" He asked as Dante tore it open, taking the letter out and bringing it to the light. It read:
"Congratulations, gifted child! You are cordially invited to attend Tokubetsu Academy! This prestigious school offers many things for every demographic. Not only do we provide the best classes with the most profound teachers, but also a welcoming environment to all! We treat our you and yours as family, and we hope to offer the best
What is our goal? It is to give students like you a chance at a new beginning to make friends, have fun, travel to distant lands, and learn to gauge and exercise your particular abilities. There is no cost, as everything is freely provided, though there will be opportunities to win scholarships to colleges, a career in your desired field afterwards and much, much more! At the bottom of this invitation is a mapped out route that you'll need to arrive on time at our station in Moscow, Russia, as well as the name of your team and a map of the campus on the back.
Sincerely and always, the Headmaster.
Dante finished and took a breath, looking it over a second time and passing it over to his father once he had finished. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke, and when they did, it was serious. His father knew that Dante was being brought into the organization more and more, and while he was fine working for them as a driven, he wasn't all that certain about letting his son be used for their purposes. It took a while, but the two decided that it was a good move for him. Dante felt conflicted about the possibility, the letter spoke of a fantasy, a dream opportunity for himself but he wasn't certain if there would be a catch. There was always a catch, wasn't there? His alternative would be to stay, to work with Bratva till his end of days. Taking a moment to himself, Dante smiled and headed towards the front seat. "Well. The drive will take a few days, and I know the way; I'm driving." Dante spoke with a bit of humor, getting behind the wheel as he heard his father laugh before getting into the passenger seat, the pup that was gifted to him barking merrily in the back of the truck as if in agreement, but of course he didn't know a thing; he couldn't have. Dante had named him Sif, and for that year he had joined the two on their long drives through Russia and now he would accompany Dante on his journey to, and through this new school. The three drove off to Moscow, and that was start of Dante's life at Tokubetsu.
◆ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ(s): ❥ N/A ❥ N/A ❥ N/A
✖ N/A ✖ N/A ✖ N/A
◆ Gᴏᴀʟ(s)/Aᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ(s):
To practice his Ice Craft till what he can consider perfection or sufficient, and work to protect those he cares about from whatever special kind of hell comes scuttling out of the rifts. He had a small clash with them already, and could do nothing to help those with him, he can't stand to lose any more that he cares about.. He has to get stronger. He has no qualms about what he has to do to accomplish that.
◆ Oᴛʜᴇʀ Iɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Dante has an easier time crafting Ice with moisture in the air and water nearby, drier climates tax his magic heavily when he creates Ice while wet and cold climates make it easier for him. When he dispels his Ice or it gets melted, the moisture turns into a cool mist that can wrap around Dante as he uses the wind to keep it nearby for future crafting. When Dante plans to fight seriously, it is common to find him shirtless; out of respect he retains his leggings. This is to reduce unnecessary heat and allow him to work his prowess over the cold effectively.
◆ Dante's Ice Craft is still being perfected, and while he works to create what he shapes in his mind; using his special forms of Ice can lead to the creations becoming unstable. The Black Ice is the most reliable creation, while Light Ice may come out misshapen and at varying amounts; worst of all is Luminescent Ice. In addition to being created misshapen, Dante has little control over detonating it. While crafting, it can blow up in his face or at uncertain times; possibly injuring his comrades. - Dante's ability to sustain crafting is currently short without supportive conditions such as cold temperatures and abundant moisture, his earlier practices and training all involved the cold and snow of Northern Russia. In that climate he had the best environment for practice and crafting, without it, he finds everything much more difficult.
lGlacier
Devoted Streaker
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lGlacier
Devoted Streaker
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2015 10:43 pm
Margery Heaven
All finished up, hope that there isn't any issues. I sincerely apologize for the size of his bio ^^ I'll be genuinely surprised if you read it all! Let me know if there's any issues, I believe I managed the letter arrival well and according to how it should be done.
◆ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s)/Aʟɪᴀs(ᴇs): Rift, War Machine, Freak, Traitor.
◆ Aɢᴇ: 16
◆ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Female
◆ Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: September 2nd.
◆ Oʀɪɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: New York, U.S.
╠ ᴅ ᴇ ᴛ ᴀ ɪ ʟ x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Tᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ / Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs: Scars align the sides of her torso.
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss: Ash has a terrible time trusting other people, and has the anger and temper to make herself a high priority target. She's stubborn when she believes she's correct, and slow to apologize. Combat wise, she relies on range and burst potential to take out her targets; should someone get up close and personal, she has a hard time fighting them off.
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs: Ash is naturally intelligent, she spends her free time studying and perfecting her techniques; mostly out of pride, and the ability to have it over her peers but any reason is a good reason to become stronger. As of late, after extensive testing done on her she has grown apathetic towards other's pain. She can be relentless in her pursuit of victory, and incredibly aggressive should someone get on her bad side. Combat wise, she prefers to dispose of her targets at range with precise bolts of energy.
◆ Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5'9"
◆ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 132 lb.
◆ Pʜʏsɪǫᴜᴇ: Lithe, wiry physique.
◆ Eᴛʜɴɪᴄɪᴛʏ: Caucasian.
◆ Hᴀɪʀ Cᴏʟᴏʀ: Black.
◆ Eʏᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ: Sea blue.
◆ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Heterosexual.
◆ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Single.
◆ Lɪᴋᴇs: ✓ Good food ✓ Studying, practice, solitude ✓ Freedom to do as she pleases
◆ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs: ✗ Taking orders ✗ Feeling inferior ✗ Being badgered by questions
╠ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀs / sᴋɪʟʟs / ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs / ᴇᴛᴄ. x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Aᴜʀᴀ Tʏᴘᴇ:: Magic Aura
◆ Aᴜʀᴀ Aʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs:: Rift Magic Eye of the Rift: Ash's left eye burns with energy, visible to all who see her when it's active. This eye allows for precise aim and a strong tactical advantage, for while the world moves on normally for all other's Ash's eye takes the world at a snails pace. This does not affect her own speed however, merely what she can take in; movement, attacks, projectiles, books too, it's what makes studying the easiest thing in the world for her (Half a minute and she's finished with both pages of a text heavy school book). This helps Ash aim her abilities, and assist her team mates with accurate shot calling as she sees the battlefield for what it truly is. A complex chess board.
Fear the Rift: Those that have studied her say that one day, she could use the same energy that creates the Rifts as a powerful weapon. Right now, all she can do is manifest it's power into bolts of energy and as an aura around her body. When projecting the Rift into her hands, she can cast bolts of it's energy out as accurate projectiles that are meant to explode on impact. This causes serious physical damage, and a knockback against those hit; when applied to her hands, it's a more condensed version. Less damage, but a larger knockback against her opponent.
[Anything below is to be unlocked through Character progression after intense training and practice. These are simply ideas that I have regarding where she could go.] Open the Rift:[Locked] The prime reason Ash was studied and tested, but her affiliation never confirmed. Through the use of the Rift's magic, she can create her own portals; albeit incredibly unstable and last for but a few moments. Ash can use these portals to relocate herself on the battlefield, opening one beside her or beneath her before a second one opens simultaneously at another location. However, there are times that a second portal does not open; thus sending Ash into the Rift for a short period of time, unable to return for at the very least 30 seconds. When she does return, she looks deranged, upset, and incredibly aggressive; her power renewed, she often attacks the closest target around her rather it be friend or foe.
Chain the Rift:[Locked] Within the Rift there is vast space, the epitome of infinity but the greatest oddity that Ash has encountered there are the chains. Seemingly endless and ethereal, Ash has found out that these chains can be used to her advantage. When opening Rifts, Ash can choose to leap through and bring a barrage of chains through with her; aiming to ensnare her target(s). These chains respond to Rift magic, and are not made of any typical metal, allowing Ash to bend them to her will. They surge towards her targets to try and keep them bound, they inflict no damage but it provides an opportunity for herself and her allies to capitalize on.
◆ Exᴛʀᴀ Aʙɪʟɪᴛʏ:: Knocking on the Front Door:[Locked] Ash shapes a monstrosity of a Cannon out of the Rift that becomes an extension of her being. Despite it's abundant size, it feels like her arm is just simply, longer. This cannon is charged with Rift like energy, the longer Ash can hold a charge before firing; the more devastating the blast. Unlike her initial bolts, the cannon's shots are meant to be anti-matter blasts; capable of tearing through flesh if it's charged long enough. At short bursts however, the shots are just empowered bolts; stronger and providing a much larger kick than her energy bursts.
◆ Pᴇᴛ: N/A
◆ Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s): [Locked] Rift Cannon, Katana.
◆ Cʜᴇʀɪsʜᴇᴅ Iᴛᴇᴍ(s):: N/A
╠ ʙ ᴀ ᴄ ᴋ ɢ ʀ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ᴅ x ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ╣:
◆ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Ashlynn has spent far too long in what is akin to solitary confinement. She doesn't trust easily, and has a hard time initiating casual conversation. However, due to her addiction to reading and knowledge she is very confrontational and will often voice her opinion if she believes that she is correct and someone else is wrong. She's quick to state her view on things and explain her case, debates are something that comes naturally to her and once she's dedicated to a cause she sticks by it in a rather stubborn manner. Her experience in being taken has made her sympathetic towards others woes, but still untrustworthy; she doesn't mind trying to help others, but won't allow them to return the favor or assist her.
◆ Bɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ: Ashlynn lived a pampered life before she got her powers, a life that most children would pray and beg for; with only one small complication. As a child, Ash was born to a loving father, one who ran his own company that dealt with electronics, and she would like to believe that she was born to a caring mother too, but her mother left her father soon after childbirth. She disappeared, put simply she wanted nothing more to do with Ash or her father; but that didn't stop her father from doing all that he could. He took off as much time as possible from work to take care of her, and when he couldn't he always had an assistant or two to help him take care of her. One of the assistants, an elderly gentleman slowly taught her the culture from his home through stories and tales of old Japan. They were interesting and kept the child happy and laughing, the second assistant wasn't as entertaining but she genuinely cared for Ash. That's what led to her believing that she was truly her mother, since she married her father when Ash was 3 years old. Too young to remember that her mother had run out on them, she led most of her life believing that her father and mother worked together like in some fantasy movie.
As Ash grew up, she took on more and more of her own practices. Her father's business and encouragement made her want to study more, to learn as much as possible. She became addicted to books that way, and when she wasn't reading she tended to either lounge around their lofty apartment or talk to the elderly assistant that her father had. Despite his age, he was still somewhat spry, and after a year or so of begging she had managed to convince him to teach her a bit of swordplay. He called it kendo, but Ash simply enjoyed having a wooden sword to swing around. She was 8 when it started, and had started to respect the practice as she turned 10, enjoying their sessions as a respite from reading and studying what she could. Her private school took up a lot of her time then, and it was growing difficult to take care of all of her new obligations. In addition to catching up to her studying she was tempted to join the school's somewhat prestigious volleyball team, as far as her class mates went all the smartest kids had joined and were pressuring her to do the same. The excuse "she hadn't a clue what to do" didn't hold much weight considering they all knew she would pick it up quickly, but as she went into a conference with the coach; her family's secret was revealed.
It happened so casually, so quick, Ash was certain that she just misheard her. Her parents were filling out the paperwork like always as she sat there twiddling her thumbs, glancing about with curious eyes when the coach turned to her father and asked about Ash's biological mother. That struck a nerve, Ash could hardly move for a second; turning her gaze slowly to the coach who hadn't realized her mistake as of yet, but both her parents had. They were still, quiet, her father biting his lip gently as he seemed to glare into the coach's soul; promising to make her suffer, but it simmered down rather quickly as he sighed and carried on. He told her in no complicated terms, that his wife was her mother now, and that was all that mattered. The coach, finally catching on apologized profusely as Ash's father finished the paperwork with ease and passed it forward. Asking Ash to stand as both he and his mother went for the door. She was shocked, still, couldn't comprehend the call that her father gave her and with a little help he managed to get her to her feet but she stumbled on in silence; the most awkward silence she had ever felt in her short life. It was weird, how it could consume everything, the foot steps, the car starting, the whir of the cars passing them, honks and brakes meant nothing; she could hardly hear a thing and in truth she didn't want to. It took ages to get home, what was normally a 30 minute drive made her feel numb getting out of the car. She was certain that her parents were saying something as they entered the elevator, but were silent throughout the lobby; but she couldn't hear them. She refused to hear a word they said. The moment they got to their loft she darted to her room and slammed the door behind her, was it a bit of an over reaction? Possibly, but who would blame her? She was 10 and she had just found out that her father had kept this from her, that she had never known her biological mother, it made her numb, and it made her weep.
That's how it started. Ash wasn't certain how long it had been since she had closed her door, but she no longer cared; she had bigger problems to take care of now and she hadn't the slightest clue as to how she would do just that. When her father finally opened her door and peeked inside, he saw his daughter sitting transfixed in front of her dresser. It was contemporary, fashioned in an old style to have a large mirror transfixed to the top where one could sit in front of and fix their hair and take care of themselves; it was there that his daughter's eyes were transfixed, one just like it had always been but the other was set aflame. Right? Ash wasn't crying, she just sat there, long forgotten tears had streaked down her cheek but were now falling down; now, all she could do was stare as her right eye lit with a blue brilliance. She had seen the door handle turning, the door shifting and her father coming in but it all so slow; no human being could move that slow.. Not on purpose. She watched his movements with curiosity, each piece moving and giving her what would normally be about two minutes of time to take in. What was this? It was only as he finally managed to step inside the room that the flame started to flicker. Ash called out to her father, the flame finally dying down now as time started to come back to her. Everyone was back to the way it was, but she was scared. That whole night she didn't think about her biological mother once, she her parents, both of them take care of her until she managed to fall asleep. She wanted her life back, she wanted things to go back to normal, she didn't care that they kept it from her now.. She was too scared about what could happen to her now to think about such trivial matters.
If circumstances were different, she was certain that she could have done just that. Gone back to how life was, simple and easy, filled with studying and possibly even join that silly volleyball team with a coach that would have probably sucked up to her for a good year. It was always a nice dream of hers from her new home, but it always that, a dream; nothing more. The day after their conference was a Saturday, she had planned to sleep in to help forget what had happened the day before, but she awoke to a forced entry. Her father had been refusing entry to officials for a minute it seemed and they had grown tired of it, letting themselves in they came to search the apartment. Ash had crossed to her door and opened it, looking on in shock as a man held some metal device that kept beeping as he moved. He was looking for something, that much was for certain; little did she know that they had been checking the entire building, with this machine eventually drawing them to their floor and apartment. As the man drew nearer, the beeping got louder, and louder, faster than it had before; the man looked towards the girl and asked her to move aside, stepping past her and into the room where beeping started to die back down. The man looked puzzled, they had checked the floor below and as he reached higher it wasn't helping; no, as he started to move back towards the door and Ash the beeping started back up. He shouted back to his men, but Ash can't remember just what he said; just the fact that he was staring directly at her. The machine had pointed him to her, they had been looking for a Rift with prototype technology meant to detect rifts as they opened to help keep the populace safe.. Their larger scanner had picked up a small Rift opening in their building, thinking that creatures may come through into New York they stormed the building as fast as they could muster a team; evacuating people as they went, their floor was one of the last to be visited and now they had found the Rift. They had found Ashlynn.
She never got a great explanation, but she was able to put a few things together from what they told her and what she managed to overhear. They had taken her to an undisclosed facility, somewhere they had been using as a base of operations to detect Rifts and used it as a make shift testing center for her. They kept her there for six years, the first two were the worst and were filled with a variety of tests. The first were blood samples, simple stuff, up next came dissection of a sort... They cut her open and looked inside, and she still has the scars to prove it. All along her torso the scars remain, evidence of her history with that damned facility; but as physical investigation proved worthless they started mental stimulation. They tested her by talking to her now, as if their previous attempts at cutting her open were just a terrible nightmare. At first she fought, angry at them for what they had done to her; for taking her away from her family, but she was a smart kid. She knew that if she didn't play along they'd take it to the next step. If they couldn't get results and information about how the Rift worked through her openly, they would resort to cutting her open again; this time, potentially checking out her brain.. She didn't think she'd come back from those experiments, so she played along. She told them all they wanted to hear, how it triggered, how it happened and what it felt like. From then on, they went about trying to recreate it in a "safe" environment to no avail. It was a failed attempt, no results, and thus her greatest fears were confirmed, they were going to move on to step 3.
They came for her in the middle of the night, but she was wide awake. She couldn't sleep there, not comfortably, hardly at all; the scientist with a syringe came in first and as he tried to soothe her with words and reach out to her she glared his way. That was when it happened, her eye lit aflame but so did her hands; she shouted, a weird sound to her since she spent minutes listening to it but it only lasted but a few moments in the real world. A bright light escaped her hands as she pushed out towards the man, the energy hitting him square in the chest and sending him barreling into the guards behind him like some stupid domino setup. She sat there, staring at them, taking everything in as she got to her feet; arms now alight with Rift energy, her eye burning bright as she stared them down. At every attempt to stand she knocked them down, a blast to every move they made. She saw it coming, from the glint in their eye to the all to slow shift of their weight; she saw it coming almost before it began, she could read them now like open books and moved accordingly. She didn't even need to be that fast, not when she knew exactly what to do in advance. Ashlynn wasn't sure how long that lasted, but in the end more guards came and forced her back to her bed at gun point. Well, at least she lived another night; right?
Despite her violent outburst, she received no reprimand. No punishment. They knew that she could activate her ability if she needed it, if the situation demanded it, and thus they used that against her. From then on she was subjected to situations where her life was put in danger, they brought in physical trainers to get her otherwise tested and surgery prone body in shape before forcing her into hand to hand combat. That was their great plan? Make the now thirteen year old girl fight bare handed against teachers of their field, at first she received a bit of mercy from the trainers who didn't expect to be fighting a young girl. They were slow, careful, teaching her what they could but as the scientists continued to pressure the necessity for it to be threatening to her life it grew more serious. A few trainers quit, refusing to fight a child like that, but there were still a few that were cruel or desperate enough to stay on call. That's when the lumps and bruises started, she was actually being hit, kicked, tossed around like she was nothing. One of the teachers, a cruel man without a hair on his head became the bane of her training; he enjoyed the fight, every move of his was quick and efficient. He managed to hurt her well, and in the end, a week after her first real match against him he had her almost crying on the floor in pain. He loomed over her, ready to land a heavy kick when it happened again. Her eyes flared up, her arm extending to catch the kick and so she did. What she didn't expect was the knock back, the moment she hit his hand; trying to catch it the energy burst on contact, sending his leg out from under him so that he nearly fell on her. She saw it all going down in slow motion, her reaction being to catch his body as it fell to lessen impact of the fall on her; but as she reached for his torso as it fell the burst happened again and he was sent flying across their training room to collide with the opposite wall. Now that was a sight to behold, his arms flailed to the side, his legs not knowing what to do in free fall, his eyes had a spark of something she hadn't seen in him before. Fear. Unfortunately, that fear was knocked out of his eyes the moment he hit the wall and fell to the floor unconscious. That concluded that session for the day.
They didn't come for her the next day, instead, she was left alone in her room where they provided food and a small collection of books. After she started cooperating with them, they were kinder, providing a few comforts. She was thankful for that, but the next day it was back to business as usual; her sparring partner awake and eager to get revenge from their last match. As she entered the room, he was standing there, his eyes glaring her down as she took her spot and stance. He was ready, eyes filled with malice but the spark was still there, deep down Ash thought she could see something akin to fear. That's when her eye lit up, bursting with Rift energy the world around her slowed to her perception. Her hands were still her own, but as the start of the match commenced she heard it move so slowly; even her opponent, taking ages to make his way over to her. So eager for the first blow, she was able to move out of the way, seeing just what he planned and how he wished to attack she just chose to react. To move where he could not, to shift so his attacks would miss with no opportunity to change afterwards. She had all the time in the world to analyze his movements, so when he finally over extended and made a mistake she was waiting for him. She didn't need Rift energy for her attacks, no, she simply waited for him to slip up with anger before driving her elbow into his soft tissue. Stomach, neck, leg, all were good targets for the short and weak girl; her elbow being used since she had little muscle to rely on. One of her first instructors had taught her that, was kind enough to pass it on before he refused to fight her seriously. She remembered this now and drove on, hitting him where it hurt and pressing in when he finally started to back away. After that, she received very few lumps and bruises; most attacks she saw coming, very few she couldn't do a thing about before they arrived. Still, her eyes were her own now; she knew just how to trigger them, and with practice she started to control her hands too. Once the scientists knew that, the testing started to get more relaxing.
They called Ash in to the labs now, asked her to sit down while she triggered her eye and allowed them to study it. Measuring it's energy output, it's habits and movements, they brought that stupid beeping thing in again and worked to calibrate it. They were using her signature of Rift energy to help them find it elsewhere in the world, to find similar disturbances where they told her monsters were crawling out of. If it was for that.. She could keep helping; and so she did, but in the end she had a request. She was nearly fourteen now, kicking her feet as they studied her arms as they covered themselves in Rift energy. They hadn't forgotten that she could create a blast from it, but for once they weren't eager to test that theory. They didn't want any holes in their pretty lab just yet, but Ash was growing restless. They had stopped scheduling her combat sessions, no longer needing to put her life in danger for results but now she was confined to her room and these boring tests. She read every book they gave her now, and with her ability to control her eye she finished them all before her next test. It didn't matter how many they brought, they'd need roughly twenty large books to keep her from finishing them all. She hardly slept still, and with an hour lasting forever with her eye.. She had no problem finishing whatever they put in front of her. Ash was just lucky that she had a great memory. During one of her tests, she started talking to the scientist; asking why they had canceled her physical training sessions, and pushing forward to request more. She wanted a trainer, and she started to open up about how she used to practice Kendo back with her father's assistant. The scientist was busy taking in the results but replied calmly, telling her with ease that he would look into it, and as long as she continued to cooperate with them that he would guarantee that her request went through. A week later, that scientist delivered.
Ashlynn couldn't believe it, she had been happy when she heard she had gotten a Kendo instructor but as she entered the training room she couldn't have been more ecstatic about who was waiting for her. The old man, her father's assistant, he smiled as she entered, dressed in plain garb that a patient may wear at any standard hospital. He greeted her kindly, said it was nice to see her, and Ash had to hold back tears as she rushed to embrace him. There were a million questions to be said, and the two spent their entire session talking; finally saying goodbye as the time expired, but they had another one planned for tomorrow. They had hired him on, he was to be there with her daily, practicing with her and assisting to keep her mental state in check. It worked. Ashlynn cooperated fully for the next two years, training with her only friend in Kendo to keep her physique in shape, studying in her free time, and being subjected to testing when she wasn't sleeping. It was tedious, it was repetitive, but it was progress. She was no longer certain just how long it had been since she had turned 16, but she knew that it had been six years since she had been first taken to this facility. She knew every mark and every tile that adorned her room, she could recall every last book they had ever given her, she even started to memorize every last thing she had learned from her instructors. The tests.. She'd rather forget those, but she couldn't. They stuck with her and would never leave, her scars would remind her of that for as long as she lived. She never saw an end to their testing, had long since stopped dreaming about any normal life, but there was a day that stopped all that. A day that they called her in for testing, and her friend stood there too off to the side, no tech was turned on, no clipboards pulled out. Instead a collection of scientists stood off to the side, the leader of the group standing by her normal seat with a man beside him; a powerful looking fellow who smiled at her as she entered. She didn't know him, but this man was responsible for everything that happened to her. He owned this facility, he owned everything in it, as far as he was concerned he felt that he owned her too but besides all of that the scientist behind him pulled out an envelope that had somehow found it's way to the facility. On it was her name, scribbled neatly in pretty black ink and as Ashlynn drew closer he held it out to her. It read:
"Congratulations, gifted child! You are cordially invited to attend Tokubetsu Academy! This prestigious school offers many things for every demographic. Not only do we provide the best classes with the most profound teachers, but also a welcoming environment to all! We treat our you and yours as family, and we hope to offer the best
What is our goal? It is to give students like you a chance at a new beginning to make friends, have fun, travel to distant lands, and learn to gauge and exercise your particular abilities. There is no cost, as everything is freely provided, though there will be opportunities to win scholarships to colleges, a career in your desired field afterwards and much, much more! At the bottom of this invitation is a mapped out route that you'll need to arrive on time at our station in Moscow, Russia, as well as the name of your team and a map of the campus on the back.
Sincerely and always, the Headmaster.
What? Ashlynn stopped for a moment, her eyes flickering to life as she read it over and over again. The flare had caught the large man's attention but she wasn't looking his way, she was to busy reading the letter for the upteenth time. Someone had sent her a letter? Here, they managed to get a request letter here? Just who were these people, what kind of school could get a letter addressed to a scientific test subject.. Once she was content reading, the flare in her eyes died down and she glanced back up towards the scientist and the large man. They explained to her that they had gotten all the information that they needed from her, and with a little bit of persuasion they had been convinced that for the greater good they should release her to the school. They all thanked her for her cooperation, and helped her pack and get ready before leaving her to her father's assistant. She was allowed one day, one day to go back to her family before she went off to school; that was all she needed.
She was met by both her parents, crying and rushing to meet her the moment she made it through the door. There was a banner, some streamers, food everywhere and Ash couldn't help but cry as she was embraced by her parents. She spent the whole day with them catching up, getting absolutely no sleep whatsoever as they talked; forgave each other, and finally had to say their goodbyes. Her father had prepared a flight for them, her family finally able to get some sleep on the flight to Moscow. Before she boarded the train however, with her new clothes and bags that her father had been preparing since he got the news that she was coming home her parents tried a decent farewell speech. Unfortunately, they were still so choked up that Ash just hugged them goodbye; wishing them the best and letting them know that she would be fine. It couldn't be worse... Could it? As she let them go, it was the old man that came up last. Hugging her goodbye and telling her how lucky he was to be able to see her for those two years, and she did the same. He had managed to keep her stable in that facility.. There was no repaying that. He wished her the best of luck, and told her that in one of her bags lay two gifts. A practice sword, just like the ones they used together, and a real one. No cheap knockoff, no fragile peace of metal, a real beautifully crafted blade. With that she bid her last farewells, and moved to get onto the train.
◆ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ(s): ❥ N/A ❥ N/A ❥ N/A
✖ N/A ✖ N/A ✖ N/A
◆ Gᴏᴀʟ(s)/Aᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ(s): To learn control of the energy that courses through her, this Rift has managed to make her life a living hell at times.. She would like to repay the favor.
◆ Oᴛʜᴇʀ Iɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Ash has a strange sort of Hyperthymesia, where she can remember nearly everything about her life. This first started to occur when her eye first activated, now while everything in her history is somewhat easy to recall, everything that she has seen while her eye is active is crystal clear.
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