[Ryukai]

All miscellaneous tidbits of information about Ryukai's characters will be listed here.

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[Argent Steele]

-Argent's birthday is on the 7th of August.

-Argent has scales over most of his body. These inhibit the formation of sweat glands on the skin, which also means that Argent sweats far less than a normal person. To offset this, when in extended periods of physical exertion Argent's body will try to expel the waste heat by panting heavily. However, Argent is still fairly prone to overheating.

-As an extension of the above, Argent has vastly reduced body odor.

[Argent Steele]

[attr=class,cs-top haven]

[attr=class,cs-body haven]

[attr=class,char-name]Argent Steele

[attr=class,cs-main]

[attr=class,title nomargin]Age 19 [attr=class,title]Gender Male [attr=class,title]Faction Haven Academy [attr=class,title]Tier Freshman [attr=class,title]Face Claim Executor from Arknights [attr=class,title]OOC Name Ryukai

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Traits

Date of Birth: 7th August 8 AV

Species: Faunus (Snake)

Romantic Orientation: Heterosexual

Aura Color: Silver

Height: 192 cm

Weight: 72 kg

Color Naming Rule: Argent means "silver" in Latin, and also means "bright" in more common language.

[attr=class,main-title-right haven]Combat And Inventory

[attr=class,title]Semblance

Semblance Name: Whisper

Rank of Semblance: C

Semblance Type: Manipulator

Primary Category: Combatant + 1

One Sentence Summary of Semblance: Argent Steele has the Manipulation Semblance of Whisper, which allows him to move objects with his mind.

Description of Semblance: Whisper allows Argent to create force upon objects within his area of influence that he has touched before, moving them however he chooses. While imbued with Whisper, objects will take on a silver glow which shows that they are currently under the effect of the Semblance. This glow fades when control is consciously ceded over the object in question or it leaves Argent's area of influence. Objects released from Whisper will retain the speed and bearing they have, but will thenceforth be affected by gravity, air resistance, friction, tailwinds, and other natural forces. Whisper does not create additional noise other than that which the projectile naturally generates, which gives it obvious stealth benefits when compared to a gun.

Whisper imbued projectiles can pierce through steels or materials of similar hardness. Moreover, while in flight, the affected projectiles can arc or snap sharply over and around allies or cover to target specific opponents, which offers flexibility and utility that a firearm cannot provide, in addition to the stealth benefit that it already possesses.

Drawbacks of Semblance: Argent must physically touch an object to exert any influence over it, and this influence cannot be reclaimed once it has left his range - for example, if shooting an arrow at high speeds, Argent cannot collect the arrow from where it lands by walking within range, and must physically touch the arrow again before he can affect it once more. Larger objects are also harder to affect and take more Aura than their smaller brethren, which limit his combat effectiveness to multiple small projectiles rather than large and powerful counterparts.

[attr=class,title]Weapon(s)

Weapon Name: Subtle Calamity / Nameless Knives

Rank of Weapon(s): E

Category: Combatants

Description of Weapons(s): Subtle Calamity is a spear that can transform into a bow. The spearhead is large and heavy, and can be launched as a ranged projectile via a Dust powered ejection port. It is connected by carbon fiber wire which is approximately the length of a small room (5m). A small but powerful motor exists in the spearhead, which can pull it back into the shaft after it has been ejected. While the weapon is in bow form, said motor also coils up the "unused" remainder of the wire so that the bowstring can remain taut.

The nameless knives are, as the name suggests, unnamed throwing knives forged from cheap metal intended to be used as disposable weapons.

[attr=class,title]Non-Combat Abilities

Name of Non-Combat Ability: Spatial Awareness
Rank of Non-Combat Ability: F
Category: Hazard
Description of Non-Combat Ability: Argent possesses an instinctive and intrinsic understanding of how objects move and interact in three dimensions, as well as a sharp mind and good memory. In combination, these allow him to track and anticipate the paths of moving objects with a decent amount of success, allowing him to preemptively move out of the way of incoming attacks and amplifying his already existing reflexes.

Name of Non-Combat Ability: Probability Processing
Rank of Non-Combat Ability: F
Category: Obstacle
Description of Non-Combat Ability: Due to his practice and familiarity with crunching numbers and the memorization of formulae that others might deem as unnecessary or extraneous to Huntsman duty, Argent has a noticeable edge over others when it comes to his speed at calculating anything both inside and out of combat. Normally, this manifests in his ability to fire shots that trajectories that others might deem impossible - however, it can also be put to more mundane uses. By calculating probabilities to the best of his information and ability, Argent can seek out the best course of movement on short notice - the safest route through unsafe environments, or the quickest route through enemy territory with minimum exposure.

Name of Non-Combat Ability: First Aid
Rank of Non-Combat Ability: E
Category: Social
Description of Non-Combat Ability: Taking classes under Doctor Yuki Haragitanai's tutelage, Argent has learned how to stem blood flow from as well as bandage and dress an open wound, create improvised tourniquets, perform CPR, sew up long lacerations, and generally apply basic first aid once combat is over.

[attr=class,title]Combat Abilities

Name of Combat Ability: Serpent's Benediction: Speed of the Scylla (Speed)

Rank of Combat Ability: E

Category: Obstacle

Description of Combat Ability: While living in the wilderness and undergoing some basic training under a Huntsman’s tutelage for a year stripped much of the excess fat from his body and gave him a passing Semblance of combat awareness, Argent was not noticeably fast when first entering Haven Academy, compared to his peers. However, while he has not approached the heights of some of the fastest students at Haven Academy, diligent endurance training and constant combat skirmishing has raised his ability to accelerate noticeably faster than before. Argent can move in short bursts of up to twelve meters per second, and can maintain lower speeds for much longer, and now sits at a comfortable average speed on the roster.

Name of Combat Ability: Serpent's Benediction: Glare of the Gorgon (Marksmanship)

Rank of Combat Ability: E

Category: Combatants

Description of Combat Ability: From a young age,‌ Argent had an instinctive sense for trajectories, angles, and speed - as well as the connections and interplay between all three. What this means is that he is able to calculate how various thrown objects interact with the environment on the fly, and use that knowledge to hit targets that should be near impossible to hit - such as bouncing a rock against a wall at an angle so that it hits the opponent taking cover around the corner. ‌This sense is also what allows him to use his Semblance to its full potential, using its power to adjust speed and angles in minute detail while the object is in motion.

Unfortunately, this sense does not work with firearms. While Argent can fire and operate firearms like any other person, he cannot “feel” the interplay between forces like he can for other weapons, as firearms turn stored chemical potential energy into kinetic energy that propels bullets, and thus he cannot factor it into his subconscious calculations, which throws him off.

This sense currently has a range of roughly the length of a telephone pole, at approximately 10-12 meters.

Name of Combat Ability: Serpent's Benediction: Dance of the Dragon (Agility)

Rank of Combat Ability: C

Category: Hazard

Description of Combat Ability: Since coming to Haven Academy, Argent has focused his style of fighting around speed, range, and avoiding attacks instead of taking them head on. Under the tutelage of the professors at Haven, this improved greatly, and reevaluated intensive training following several failed missions has improved it even further. The result of these efforts is that Argent's reaction time, eye hand coordination, and ability to avoid incoming attacks are now equal to those of the average Huntsman, with room to improve in the future.

Name of Combat Ability: Serpent's Benediction: Talons of the Tarasque (Martial Arts)

Rank of Combat Ability: F

Category: Combatants

Description of Combat Ability: After changing his weapon, Argent has been training in close quarters combat to make up for his deficiency at close range.

Name of Combat Ability: Serpent's Benediction: Wings of the Wyvern (Acrobatics)

Rank of Combat Ability: F

Category: Obstacle

Description of Combat Ability: While not as experienced as others with dedicated training, Argent has spent more than a year in the wilderness under the tutelage of a veteran Huntsman, and has learnt from his mentor the importance of speed and using the terrain to one’s advantage. This training has given Argent a degree of expertise in freerunning around and over obstacles and uneven terrain, as well as experience in climbing cliff faces and large trees in nature. While he is also adept at traversing ruins in the wilderness, he is not as adept in the concrete jungle of urban environments.

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Information

[attr=class,title]Vitals

Primary Drive: Argent's primary drive is to one day stand alongside the person he idolizes as a mentor and father, the Huntsman Shin Kurinji, as a fellow Huntsman, to aid him in making the world a better place without being a burden in any aspect. To Argent, that means working to master his skills and graduate from Haven Academy as the strongest he can be. To that end, he volunteers for combat missions where possible to increase his experience in the field, and spends most of his time outside of mandatory classes studying, training, or otherwise seeking another way to improve himself. In that sense, Argent is possessed of intense greed - not in the petty manner of material possessions that other minds seek out, but of experiences and materials that might forge him into a better fighter, all for the sole purpose of reaching his dream.

Fears: While not something he has ever voiced openly, Argent has a deeply hidden fear of connecting to others only to have them leave him behind. Largely rooted in the way his Faunus traits manifested at a young age and the subsequent isolation by his peers, this was further compounded by his mother's marriage to a stepfather who neglected his emotional development, as well as the birth of several younger siblings who lack his particular Faunus traits and are much more easily accepted by society, making him the true "black sheep" of the family as a result. It is hard for him to forge bonds with others, and even harder for him to let go of those bonds once they have been formed - at times, his behavior can border on the obsessive or irrational when it comes to such issues, especially when it comes to those close to him.

Despite his proficiency at probability calculation, Argent dislikes gambling on chance and possibility. He dislikes it for the constant nagging feeling that regardless of how much he prepares for an eventuality, regardless of how foolproof he can make a plan, regardless of how well he can adapt on the fly, all it takes is a random series of coincidences for things to fall apart. He is also irritated at messy living quarters, finding comfort in the act of organizing and putting his surroundings into place.

Style of Self-Expression: A firm believer in the principle that actions speak louder than words, Argent keeps himself taciturn and collected, rarely raising his voice outside of combat. He views emotional outbursts from someone in his position as unprofessional, seeing the rank of Huntsman as a position that needs to be filled only by the exemplary. To him, Huntsmen need to give others hope and confidence - only by keeping expressions of dismay, fear, rage, and other negative emotions from one's countenance and actions will the common people feel secure. He is all too aware of how words can be misconstrued by those with the intention to twist narratives, and tends to take a moment or even several to choose his words carefully before replying to others.

That being said, while able to converse and understand most people with adequate communication skills, Argent does not possess the natural presence that causes people to gravitate to those with great charisma. Due to his short and measured responses, as well as his goal oriented conversational style ,people tend to run out of conversation topics when speaking with him rather easily. Moreover, his lack of discernable energy tends to put off the casual conversationalist, and discourage people from lingering longer in his presence than necessary. Argent is aware of this flaw, and is trying to fix it with continuous exposure to others, but tends to lapse into it when not actively maintaining a more casual and personable exterior.

Most Important Thing: To Argent, the most important things he can ever receive are personal bonds. Idols, friends, mentors - anyone who has shown the willingness to forge past his exterior and get to know him as a person. Argent cares about the people close to him deeply, and has already demonstrated this with regards to the disaster at Rochdale, where he cut his way through crowds of desperate civilians to reach Kishka, his team leader and girlfriend, while she went on a ill advised and short lived expedition to rescue Holly Hock from being left behind.

Argent will always tend towards the end goal of protecting those he cares about. Sometimes, this means making concessions that aren't always in their favor so they can grow as people. And sometimes, it means putting them before others, even those more deserving. When pushed into a corner, when in the worst of situations, Argent will sacrifice the world itself for the people he cares about in his moments of weakness. Regardless of his own reputation, health, or ideals, or even the very relationships he prizes so much over everything else - he will burn everything he has on the pyre to keep those he cares about from dying.

Excessive personal loyalty. That is Argent Steele's fatal flaw.

[attr=class,title]History Freeform

Pre-Haven Life

SPOILER: Click to show

Esmeralda Steele was a snow leopard Faunus who had once been the acrobat of a wandering carnival acrobat, reduced to a street rat scavenging in the gutters when said carnival disbanded in the wake of the Great War and Mantle's ban on artistic forms of expression by the common folk started in earnest. Later enslaved by a Mistrallean slavemaster, she worked as manual labor for years before coming of age and being forced to work as a singer by day and prostitute herself by night. Rough treatment of her body in this manner caused quick deterioration, and by her late twenties, with artistic expression now allowed to the masses, her master decided to sell her to the Dust mines as manual labor to be worked to death. Escaping captivity before that could happen, Esmeralda fled Mistral and settled down near the Mantle/Mistral border in a small town called Pine Crest, where she gave birth to a son. She never knew who the child's father was, presuming him to have been one of her many trysts, but vowed to take care of him nevertheless. In hopes of providing him with a brighter future, she named the child Argent, so that he would shine bright and never endure the same darkness that she had.

For the first few years, everything was fine. Argent only had a small patch of scales on his chest that was easily hidden with a shirt, and the Steeles embedded themselves into Pine Crest without much trouble. But then, at the age of five, things started to change. Over the course of the next three years, Argent's eyes turned from grey to gold, and scales grew everywhere - around his eyes, coating his neck and chest and arms and legs until he could no longer hide them, replacing his human skin in huge swathes. The children who’d been his peers slowly distanced themselves, no longer able to tolerate the differences which they’d once overlooked. For those silver scales, he was ostracized, and held at arm’s length, like a dirty secret or leper - and for all that his mother was accepted among the people of the village, he still saw the fear in their eyes when they looked at him. The way their mouths pressed into thin lines and the way they looked away quickly, the way the children ran to hide behind the legs of their parents or avoided him when they played together.

He worked the farm, what little help he could offer in digging the rows and harvesting the crops. Keeping them watered. Keeping them fertilized. Checking them for disease and mold. Pruning the leaves. Reaping the harvest. It was a lonely life, but he had his mother. And he had the animals, the sun, the shattered moon, the blue sky and the stars in the night, and the rows upon rows of wheat and corn rustling gently in the wind.

It was a lonely life, but it was his.

Where other children played, Argent worked as hard as he could, putting all his effort into supporting the one person who could understand him and loved him for who he was. That did not mean his life was devoid of enjoyment - far from it. Those days, those golden days - they were a memory of a better time. Of the logs spitting embers in the fireplace on a winter’s night, when the snow fell thickly outside the frost coated windows, of the summer sun’s heat beating down on him as he tilled the land, of the spring rains that flecked the skies with grey and the grasses that grew in its wake, of the rows upon rows of corn and wheat rustling gently in the autumn wind.

One night, when he was eight years old, a pair of strangers came to the town; a man and a woman with a large weapon sheathed upon her back, the both of them cloaked in green and silver. They were polite, but did not speak overmuch. A room at the inn, for a few days. Argent watched them come, their cloaks muddied by the dust of the roads traveled. He watched everyone who came, partly of curiosity and partly of boredom. No one ever looked back.

But they did.

They came around the next day, when the sun was setting, having wandered about the town since the dawn came. The Steele farm was an outlier, far divorced from the rest of the village - but they came anyway, and this time, the hoods were down.

They were like him.

She who bore the armored gauntlet had a tail - a long, slender white furred affair that he hadn’t seen the day before. And he with the pair of guns holstered at his hips…

…had crimson scales across his arms, that disappeared beneath his shirt.

While the woman had gone inside to speak with his mother, the man had sat on the porch with Argent, looking out into the distance as the younger boy did. The red scales on his arms, now exposed, shone dully in the moonlight, looking far darker than they actually were. Not so for Argent’s own - the silver scales shone as brightly in the light of the moon as they did in the light of the sun.

The man broke the silence when an hour had passed, and the moon rose higher into the sky. Like a small crack in a dam inevitably leads to water pouring through - first slowly, then in far greater volume, he coaxed words out of the boy with practiced ease, as if he were someone who had had to do this many times across a long life.

The man’s name was Shin Kurinji, and he knew. He knew all about the woes that Argent had faced at the hands of those around him, of the discrimination that had plagued him for simply looking different from others. He knew it because he had faced the same thing, not so long ago. Before the war, before becoming a Huntsman.

A Huntsman. That was what he called himself. Was called by others.

Argent listened as Shin spoke. About the places he’d been to, the trials he’d overcome, and the acceptance he’d gotten from his peers along the way. It was a cruel world, he said, that even a child would need to fight for the recognition they deserved, but that was simply how things were. Each and every Faunus not among their own kind would need to fight twice as hard for half as much - until the day that they would no longer need to. That day would come, but for now it was but a distant dream.

Still, it was not a dream in which one should lose hope.

Shin let the child hold his gun. Feel its weight, eye the steel. Argent had wrinkled his nose at it before it was returned to Shin’s own hand, the metal still reeking faintly of acrid expended Dust. The Huntsman explained that it had belonged to his father, and that the weapon had a long history behind it. Even so, the weapon simply felt wrong in his hands, as though it simply wasn’t meant for it.

The next day, a day of rest where Argent had nothing to do on the farm, Shin tried to teach the Faunus child how to shoot.

Tried.

Despite hours on hours of using the Huntsman’s Daisy Cutter (Shin, apparently, had a twisted sense of humor), Argent failed utterly at hitting the tree but a few paces before him. In frustration, he had thrown a rock at the target and hit it square in the center, which surprised both Shin and himself. Intrigued, the Huntsman had him stand further back, and each time Argent would hit the center of the target with the rock until he passed thirty paces, and even then he still managed to hit the outer edges until he had passed forty. Shin praised him, and told him that he had a good eye and a sturdy hand, and sent him home to Esmeralda, who fussed and fretted over him until he fell asleep and dreamed of Huntsmen with scales, of Huntsmen who were accepted and not judged for their features but their skills and hearts and souls.

The next night, the Grimm attacked.

Fire blossomed in the town. Shin and Jade were resplendent in their green and silver armor, cutting down the Nevermores and then the Beowolves that came rushing out of the forest. Shin’s Daisy Cutter and Jade’s Talonfall echoed with bullet reports, and the Grimm were torn or shot apart before they could even lay a single claw on any of Pine Crest’s citizens. Argent watched it all from his bedroom window with wide eyes, flashes of light and rolling thunder and two figures backlit against the bonfire, leaping and twirling as though they were in a dance of their own.

Truly magnificent. It was then and there that the seed of Argent's future was planted within him - the desire to one day be just like the heroes that had saved his village from certain ruin.

When morning came, the young Faunus rushed to the village despite not having a single wink of sleep the night before. And standing, bruised and battered but victorious nonetheless, were Shin and Jade, surrounded by black stains where the Grimm had dissolved back into shadow, stains that stretched all the way to the outer reaches of the village. A weary Shin saw Argent, and gave him a thumbs up, one that the young Faunus was happy to return with a smile.

For the next week, Shin taught Argent as best as he could, even spending some of his own lien on a bow and some training equipment for his young friend. However, as all things must, that time ended. A new mission came through, one that required the Hunter pair at a new location. Argent would no longer have his mentor in person, but Shin had one last gift for him - a Scroll, containing recordings and instructions on how to further improve himself. Though the network in Pine Crest was nowhere near as well developed as the one in the main cities of Mistral, it was still a gift that the young Argent treated as more precious than gold. So it was that Shin left, and Jade with him.

Once again, Argent was left alone.

The days turned into weeks turned into months turned into years. Argent kept practicing with the bow and with throwing rocks in his spare time, kept listening to Shin’s recorded words and lessons until they ran out and he started again from the beginning, and grew. By the age of ten, he had added hunting in the woods to his repertoire, stalking rabbits and other small game - tracking them through the trees, putting an arrow into them and then bringing the animal carcasses to a butcher in exchange for meat and coin. Old man Glass was half blind and deaf and didn’t care so much for his appearance as he did for the work Argent did, and that was fine by him.

Then came an injured man, staggering through the noon sun. Argent had watched him from where he was tilling the fields, and called for his mother. Expecting her to send him for the village physicians, he instead watched her carry the taller man back into the house in her arms, and felt a sense of unease, but shrugged it off. His mother always cared, even for strangers.

Soon, however, it became clear that she cared too much. Even as his wounds healed, even when he no longer had trouble walking, Nova stuck to his mother like white on rice. He smiled when he saw Argent, and talked to the boy, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the talk was distant and forced. Argent stopped talking to him, wanted his mother to stop talking to him, wanted him to leave - but each time he tried to speak to his own mother, it became rapidly clear that she was as besotted with the stranger as he was with her.

He hated it. Hated it when black cars rolled up outside the farm and came to retrieve their boss. Hated it when Nova proclaimed his love for his mother without an ounce of embarrassment in him. Hated it when his mother would no longer look at him, having eyes only for Nova, that tender look once reserved for him and him only now given to someone else. Hated it when they sold the farm and moved to the city, his mother no longer in the clothes he’d always seen her in, but in elaborate dresses and jewelry, as different as could be.

Argent had stubbornly worn his old clothes, and tracked mud into the fancy cars on purpose. All their stuff had fit into two bags, with space left over. He watched the only home he’d ever known disappear into the distance, pressing his hands against the glass window. The tears welled up, hot and scalding in his eyes, but no one saw - or if they did, no one cared.

Nova’s mansion was larger than the cottage he’d lived in by leaps and bounds, but to the young Faunus, it was also cold and empty. There were servants aplenty, to keep the place clean and well maintained, but it didn’t have the sense of being lived in that permeated their former home. There was no warmth, no soul in that lifeless place. No matter how many inane gifts that Nova brought to him and left in his room, it didn’t - couldn’t - change that for all the man’s words and promises, his smile still never reached his eyes when he looked at his step-son.

Four and a half months after he hadn’t settled in to his new place, and a few weeks before his eleventh birthday, Argent was called in to the living room to speak with his mother and the man who would never be his father, no matter how much he purported himself to be. He was about to be sent off to a place called a “boarding school”, where he could only return to see his mother every three months.

Argent knew, of course. Knew that Nova wanted him out of the way, as much as possible. That if he couldn’t win him over with the outstretched hand, he would beat him into submission with the clenched fist. He was about to plead with his mother, to get her to see reason, but her next words stopped him cold. She was happy. Happy that he would have a chance to pursue the education she could not. Happy that he would not have to grow up the way she did, happy that his future would be brighter than hers.

Perhaps if that were all, Argent could have tolerated it. Could have held in the resentment and the seething dislike and the hollow ache in his core. And for a short while, he did, clenching his fists and focusing on his own breathing until he was able to think clearly. A single nod had signified his assent. Esmeralda had beamed and Nova had relaxed, clearly relieved that for the first time, the child would not be trouble. He’d had brought in an array of new equipment, laid out neatly on a cloth covered cart - all produced by his company, of course. Weapons, armor, and a Scroll - state of the art, all shiny and new.

You won't need to carry that old thing around any more. As a matter of fact, I've already had the servants dispose of it for you.

For a second, the words didn’t register. Then in the next, panic and rage filled him in equal measure, and he rounded on them, eyes wild. Nova had jerked back, shocked by the sudden change, but the child had no sympathy for him, only an ever increasing pulse of panic his heart pounded in his veins and behind his eyes.

He’d screamed out a desperate question, and when Nova would not answer, his disgusting mouth hanging open in shock, Argent had turned and bolted for the door. Outside, in the mansion grounds, he’d ran for the recycling bins the servants used, his small feet carrying him as fast as they ever had. He’d dug through the refuse, bags of paper and plastic and metal. The skin on his hands tore, but he didn’t feel any pain, tearing through everything with a single minded purpose. A sob of relief escaped him as he grabbed hold of a familiar shape and pulled out the Scroll. Shin’s Scroll. Badly dented, with a crack across the screen, but still glowing it’s quiet blue. Still working.

Light fell over him, and he whirled to see that hateful man, who had the audacity to have a worried expression on his face. And beside him, the mother who for the first time he felt anger at. That man, that horribly blind and self centered man, had thrown away the one gift he’d ever gotten from anyone else, and she had let it happen. Argent hissed out his hate, the words filled with venom and bile as he’d never spoken before, watching their eyes grow wide. And then, before they could react, before they could destroy anything more of what he had left, he ran, alone, into the night. Their cries of his name fell behind him in the darkness, and he was on his own.

Like his mother before him so many years ago, the small boy stowed away in a train that was headed away from his source of torment, crossing the country in a week towards the only place he could call home.

Where else did he have to go?

Argent had hoped that this was all some sort of nightmare. Some sort of fever dream, where he could wake up to see his mother once again and look out upon the crop fields and see that this was real, that this was the truth, that everything up until now that had gone so horribly wrong was nothing more than an overactive imagination from a belly too full of food and a brain too full of radio serials before bed.

He’d never even once considered the possibility that there might not be a home for him to return to.

Argent collapsed in the dirt, staring blankly at the skeletal frame of a new building where the cottage and farm used to be. There was a black hole in his chest, an ache so terrible that he could no longer move. He’d lost everything.

Everything.

When the construction workers involved in Nova Core Engineering’s new Pine Crest distribution warehouse came to work the next day, they found a broken child, sitting in the soil and clutching a damaged Scroll. There were dried trails of salt on his face, from his eyes to his cheeks, and his arms were littered with scabs from small wounds that had drawn blood. His eyes were bloodshot, the skin on his feet torn and broken from walking without shoes or socks.

It took a while to recognize him, but when they did, a single call was enough to bring Nova and Esmeralda driving up to Pine Crest in a car, to find him huddled in a corner. Despite the accumulated dirt of a week’s travel, Esmeralda still scooped him up in her arms and cried as she hugged him tightly.

Argent looked on his mother for the first time in a week, and felt nothing. None of the boundless love his heart would swell with for her but months before, none of the calm peace that he’d always felt when she was around and held him in her arms. Overnight, she’d become a stranger, one he could care less about.

When he looked at Nova, there was nothing, too. A distant memory of a sense of dislike, but nothing like the burning hate that had come before. Nothing seemed to quite matter now, as if he was just a spirit inhabiting a vessel of flesh, and everything happening to him was but a show happening upon a screen. They went home, and Argent dully packed his items to leave for the boarding school before he sat on his bed and turned over the Scroll in his hands. A video of Shin blossomed on the screen, and he watched it to its end.

He still felt nothing.

The next years passed in a blur.

Argent went to school. He lived in a bunk with five others. The others avoided him. He attended classes. He studied. He did poorly. He spoke when he was spoken to. He ate when it was time to eat, and slept when it was time to sleep. He washed his clothes. He cleaned the room. He studied more. He did better. When the time came for school to end, he returned home for a few days before he once again went back to Root Institution.

The second time, he did not return home, and did not do so again until he graduated. Letters came, which he did not read. Argent developed a cordial relationship with most of his peers. Most did not get close, though a few seemed to take to him - mostly open-minded and extroverted humans who saw past his appearance. At the age of fifteen, he graduated from the school in the upper quarter of the cohort, and left to go back to his mother for the first time in four years.

Argent noted dispassionately that the number of sisters he had had had now grown to four, the newest one swaddled in a bundle of cloth and cradled gently against Esmeralda’s bosom as she had smiled and welcomed him back. Something like a blade of ice pierced through him, and he winced at the ache, but it quickly faded away, and he simply nodded politely, brushed past her, and made for his room.

Nova had offered him a place at the company, but Argent rejected the proposition and found work instead as a worker at a Schnee Dust processing factory. It was dull, mind numbing work, but it paid well (not that it mattered), and the monotony was, in its own way, relaxing for the young Faunus. That, and he didn't have to return home, living in a room at the workers' dormitory on site. It was much the life as he had led in the boarding school, albeit swapping out academic studying for physical work.

There was a girl, though, in the grey cloud of indifference that had settled over his life - a human girl who was his supervisor. A young woman who smiled at him more often than the others, who seemed to like him. She sat with him, sometimes, when they weren't on the clock, and they talked.

She talked enough for both of them, truth be told - not that he minded. It was somehow relaxing, the way her words washed over him like a hot bath after a long day, and the world no longer seemed quite as grey when she was around. It was nice to have someone who cared about how he felt, who didn’t seem to mind when he fell silent, whose presence drained tension from his body like an ink spot dissolving into water. It was a good twelve months.

Then things went awry, as they always did. It started small, with her asking for little favors here and there. Then the favors got bigger, and worsened from there. He tried to refuse, sometimes, but she would plead, and pout, and eventually his resistance would melt like butter left out on a summer day.

And then, at last, things came to a head. She was let go by the SDC, and coerced him into helping with what she claimed was a final revenge - of taking the crates of Dust stored in the warehouses on site, and selling them off on the black market. To cover the costs for her living until she found her next job, she said, pressing herself into him and resting her face into his shoulder. Wetness stained his shirt there, and against his better judgement, he had nodded.

In the dead of night, they made their move with a number of people she’d claimed were friends she’d called in to help. His unease grew, but he said nothing.

He should have.

He remembered the glass from the windows above falling a moment after they shattered far above, and he remembered the gleam of green and silver armor in the moonlight. Remembered the golden eyes in the depths of the cowl, and the gun he’d once held being brought to bear. Remembered its thunder going off, and its muzzle flaring bright, brighter than the sun-

The next thing he knew, he woke in the hospital, one side of his head wrapped in bandages. And at his bedside was the Huntsman he'd once held up as a hero, looking very tired and old.

Things cleared up from there. The girl, apparently, had been a member of one of Mistral’s many street gangs connected with those deeper in the criminal underworld. Her Semblance was hypnotism, and she'd thoroughly fooled him, worming her way into his heart until he was completely under her thumb. And then, when she had what she needed, she had thrown him away without a second thought.

In the presence of his hero, in the face of the gentle concern the Huntsman gave him, all of the emotions Argent had locked away over the years came rushing back in a flood, a torrent so forceful he was swept away without a chance to even try to keep himself afloat. Sobbing, everything spilled out of him as fast as he could say it - of how he’d been replaced, in every manner of the word, of how he’d lost everything, of a home where he wasn’t wanted and a family where he wasn’t loved, of how that girl had been the only one to care-

Shin waited until the tears stopped flowing. Waited until the words had stopped coming and Argent had slumped, worn out. And then, very slowly, very quietly, had pulled the younger Faunus into a hug, to rest against his chest. Exhausted, Argent drifted off to sleep. When he woke next, Shin was gone, but he had left a note for him - a reminder to stay strong in spite of what had happened.

The next few weeks was a whirl of activity and things he could barely remember. The police came and verified his accounts with that of witnesses and Shin’s own report, and pronounced him an accomplice under duress. Essentially being let off with a slap on the wrist, he still had to serve two weeks of community service, and received a message in the mail about the termination of his contract at the Schnee Dust Company. Life became a blur of paperwork and plain work, serving his dues until his sentence was over.

And then, when Shin came to him with the offer, under the moonlight, extending an open hand, Argent took it. Packed his things and left, like he had once before, leaving his life behind, and a letter addressed to his family.

Do not look for me.

It was the best year he had of his entire life. Even if sometimes they slept under nothing but the stars and they walked until his feet blistered, even if sometimes they went hungry because their rations ran out or were destroyed in their battles. Under Shin’s tutelage, he trained his body, his Semblance, and his skill. The Huntsman was always careful to never stray too far into a place where Argent would be in too much danger, delegating much of his missions off to others he knew in order to do so. They fought in ancient ruins, in verdant forests, and sometimes even in the urban jungle, against monsters in human form instead of Grimm. Argent smiled more, laughed more, felt more in that single year than since his scales had grown in.

A few weeks after his seventeeth birthday, Shin had brought him in for a talk. Producing a envelope, the Huntsman had handed it over - an application for Haven Academy, and a letter of recommendation from Shin himself, enclosed within. There were some things that he was just not good at teaching, the Huntsman explained, and it was better that his protege learn for himself, at a place designed for him to grow. There was only so much they could do together while Argent was still learning, after all. Argent had nodded in response. Increased autonomy and the ability to stand alongside his mentor rather than behind him was something he had wanted for a long time. And so he would see it through, no matter the cost.

A slew of tests awaited him, written and physical alike. The Faunus ignored the looks from everyone else, and gave his all. Gave his everything for the chance to be like the one whom he'd come to trust as a brother, more than the family he'd left behind, who'd left him behind. Acceptance had been as quick as they would allow, and soon enough, it was time to board the airship to Haven. With all his worldly possessions in a beaten and battered backpack, Argent stood before the boarding ramp, flanked on either side by the family he'd chosen. Shin's hand was heavy on his shoulder, but it was a good weight. A reassuring weight. A promise that he would be waiting, and one he intended to keep.

Argent hugged the both of them one last time, and went to Haven.

Haven Events Summary

SPOILER: Click to show

In his time at the Academy, Argent quickly realized that unlike the previous institution he'd studied at, certain human Haven Academy students were a lot more obvious with regards to their distaste for Faunus. Outclassed terribly due to his lack of training, he was eventually rescued by Kishka Burzanova, a would-be alpha in such matters, and taken under her wing. For him, this meant being beaten relentlessly in one on one training sessions until he could begin to react and fight back with a modicum of skill. It was during this time that he began to rapidly improve, finding his own form of combat and learning to use his Semblance to maximum effect.

Later on, Argent would conduct his internships with Professor Theloria Shadecloak, going on a week long mission of Grimm extermination and performing adequately despite some initial issues. Shortly after that, he would also participate in a mission to restore communications to Mistral by escorting essential parts on a newly refitted Argus Limited. Overall, the mission was a success despite bandits and Grimm doing their best to make it otherwise, and Argent returned in high spirits to Haven, where he designed and forged a new weapon with Kishka's help, who he'd come to respect and befriend after a time.

Midterms came next, and were largely uneventful until the night, where he shared a bonding session with Kishka and they advanced their relationship to the next stage. Afterwards, however, all hell broke loose when Aegle Verdant, one of Kishka's other proclaimed interests who had not taken nearly as kindly to the attention as he had, sought revenge on his girlfriend by splitting them into different classes with her newfound authority as Class Red's team leader. Kishka would proceed to challenge her to a duel and lose, and much time was spent comforting and consoling her, something which he was admittedly terrible at.

After a time, Argent was sent out on a mission to Rochdale, a small town besieged by Grimm. Due to unforeseen circumstances, only a small number of civilians were evacuated before the Grimm attacked, and desperate remainders swarmed the escape transports in a bid for life. Argent was forced to turn his blades onto the crowd for the safety of himself and other students, an act which would haunt him for the rest of his life, but also harden his resolve to do everything necessary to resolve a mission. The weapons were lost on the mission, and he reverted to using the weapons that he had gained from his mentor before enlisting.

Due to difficulty processing the trauma after the event, Argent would seek out and receive counselling from his professors, which eased him past it and helped consolidate his thoughts into a further drive to prevent such disasters from happening again. Afterwards, he participated in the Vytal Festival as part of Kishka's team, and was caught up in Solomon Moon's plot to get Kishka expelled from Haven Academy by his attempt to commit suicide during a duel by turning off his Aura. Moon was expelled from the Academy for his crimes, and would vow revenge as a result.

Mere days after the Vytal Festival had concluded, a village on the coast of Mistral by the name of Kersch went dark. Delivered by train to the outskirts, Argent led a team of Haven students into Kersch. The culprit turned out to be Solomon Moon, already unstable from his constant attempts to insult and belittle everyone in Haven but with little success, finally driven over the edge by having his behind tanned by an old man with a walking cane after trying to murder said elderly man in a fit of rage. Moon, in a masterful display of tactical genius, chose to respond to this by mustering all the forces he could on short notice to invade Kersch and administer a final solution to the Faunus citizens there, imprisoning the rest. For his efforts, Argent cut him to pieces with his Semblance and escaped with the rest of his fireteam without suffering major losses.

Argent continues to study at Haven to this day, older and wiser than when he began. He is better at talking to others now, but is also significantly more brittle and subdued where before he simply lacked interest as a result of his experiences. Nevertheless, he continues to hold on to his dream of being a great Huntsman one day, one who can stand alongside his mentor without shame.

[attr=class,cs-bottom haven]

[Erytheia Hellebore]

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[attr=class,char-name]Erytheia Caelestis Amaranth Estrella Hellebore

For every rose, a thorn.

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[attr=class,title nomargin]Age 21 [attr=class,title]Gender Female [attr=class,title]Faction Haven Academy [attr=class,title]Tier Freshman [attr=class,title]Face Claim Ereshkigal from Fate/Grand Order. [attr=class,title]OOC Name Ryukai

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Traits

Date of Birth: 18 February 5 AV

Species: Human

Romantic Orientation: Demisexual

Aura Color: Gold

Height: 179 cm

Weight: 56 kg

Color Naming Rule: Erytheia: An old Greek name meaning "the red one." Also the name of one of the Hesperides, nymphs associated with sunset.
Caelestis: A Roman name meaning "of the sky, heavenly."
Amaranth: Amaranth is a reddish-pink flower often used in dyes.
Estrella: A Spanish name meaning "star."
Hellebore: A type of flower that comes in shades of purple, blue, and yellow.

[attr=class,main-title-right haven]Combat And Inventory

[attr=class,title]Semblance

Semblance Name: Airtafae

Rank of Semblance: D

Semblance Type: Manipulator

Primary Category: Combatants +1

One Sentence Summary of Semblance: Erytheia has the manipulator semblance of Airtafae which allows the wielder to create and manipulate electricity from her body.

Description of Semblance: Airtafae is an hereditary Semblance that is passed down through the Hellebore family, which allows the user to generate elements from their body. Airtafae changes based on the heir's genetic structure, and manifests different elements based on unknown factors, though only one element per person. Moreover, due to the way Airtafae works, it only ever manifests in the late stages of puberty in a female, and thus cannot be planned for and incorporated into an individual's fighting style until it has manifested.

For Erytheia, Airtafae allows her to create and manipulate electricity within a 15-18 meter range around her, approximately the length of a semi-truck. While Airtafae also allows Erytheia to sense where high amounts of electricity are concentrated, such as in cables and electrical appliances, there must be a clear line of sight to where the source is located for her to manipulate it. At full power, Airtafae can burn through soft or thin metals.

Drawbacks of Semblance: Erytheia cannot draw electricity from storage sources such as batteries or charge capacitors unless they are in an active circuit and thus creating power. For example, a pack of batteries bought at the store still sealed in their packaging are inert, and thus cannot be affected by Airtafae. However, the same batteries, when put into a child's toy that emits sound and light, now create power. Therefore, Airtafae can now affect the current coming from the batteries, as they are in an active circuit.

Airtafae cannot manipulate sources or hit targets that are within Erytheia's range but not immediately visible to her, such as hitting a Grimm coming from around a building or drawing from a cable buried in concrete. Insulators such as rubber and plastic will prevent Airtafae from manipulating electricity inside such protection directly, but will not affect damage taken from being hit directly by an attack from the same Semblance.

If the immediate surroundings are slick with liquid, such as being in a flooded hallway or pool, the effects of Airtafae will be conducted into the surrounding environment after hitting a target. All within the range of the Semblance will be affected, including Erytheia herself.

Airtafae does not grant the user immunity to their own manipulated element. While she can redirect flowing electricity through her own body to create active circuits and electromagnets, her Aura will take constant damage until she releases said circuits. This does not occur when creating electricity, as Airtafae can manifest up to an inch away from the skin.

[attr=class,title]Weapon(s)

Weapon Name: Irkalla Arali

Rank of Weapon(s): F

Category: Combatants

Description of Weapons(s): Irkalla and Arali are two large swords with no crossguard that can be wielded independently or combined to form a swordstaff like weapon with interlocking guards around her grip. Pictured below.

[attr=class,title]Non-Combat Abilities

Name of Non-Combat Ability: Golden Rule (Wealth)
Rank of Non-Combat Ability: E
Category: Social.
Description of Non-Combat Ability: As the heiress of the Hellebore Company, Erytheia holds a high ranking position in the company and is provided with a monthly salary that covers most of her daily expenses. She also has a large amount of untapped capital locked up in various investments which cannot be liquidated on short demand, and is working on expanding her stock trading portfolio and making good on her investments in the Hellebore Company's future projects division.

[attr=class,title]Combat Abilities

Name of Combat Ability: Radix Gloria (Durability)
Rank of Combat Ability: E
Category: Hazard
Description of Combat Ability: While initially diminished from her time spent away from combat, constant training has allowed Erytheia's body and Aura to regain some of the toughness it once had during her time at Sanctum.

Name of Combat Ability: Arbor Imperium (Strength)
Rank of Combat Ability: F
Category: Combatants
Description of Combat Ability: Years of training, while severely diminished after her time away from combat in general, has strengthened Erytheia to the point where she can lift and throw heavy items with ease.

Name of Combat Ability: Laminae Chorus (Agility)
Rank of Combat Ability: D
Category: Hazard
Description of Combat Ability: While initially diminished from her time spent away from combat when she entered Haven, constant training has allowed Erytheia's body to reach the amount of agility she had at Sanctum Academy. Her ability to avoid attacks, reflexes, and response time to oncoming threats is now just as good as any third year Huntsman Academy trainee.

Name of Combat Ability: Ramis Mila (Martial Arts)
Rank of Combat Ability: F
Category: Hazard
Description of Combat Ability: Years of training, while severely diminished after her time away from combat in general, has afforded Erytheia a small degree of experience with various weapons such as the sword and spear family.

Name of Combat Ability: Virga Augmen (Speed)
Rank of Combat Ability: F
Category: Hazard
Description of Combat Ability: While initially diminished from her time spent away from combat, constant training has allowed Erytheia's body to regain some of the speed it once had during her time at Sanctum.m.

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Information

[attr=class,title]Vitals

Primary Drive: Erytheia's primary drive is proving herself worthy of bearing the name of the Hellebore family. Throughout history, females of said family have made their names in various fashions by fighting in various conflicts or otherwise affecting change in the world of Remnant. However, due to the circumstances of her upbringing and a subsequent mental breakdown, Erytheia has been treated by her mother as inept and defective, which has lead to her internalizing that viewpoint in her own psyche. Proving herself worthy, therefore, is her primary goal - a battle for her own self worth, and her ability to uphold the family name. The task that she has taken on to this end is nothing less than the wellbeing of Mistral itself - Erytheia hopes that by completing her education at Haven, taking control of her family company, and improving Mistral's safety and safety with the resources such a position offers her, she will be able to hold her head high with pride in her own accomplishments - that she has made the world a better place because of her effort.

Fears: Erytheia fears her own inadequacy - of simply not being good enough. Beaten into her by her own mother at a young age and further exacerbated by her treatment after undergoing a stress induced public breakdown in her late teens, it is deep seated enough that she may never be rid of it altogether. She dislikes demonstrations of abuse of power between two or more people where one holds a higher position than another on a societal level, and feels similarly to displays of cruelty, hedonism, or apathy to the suffering of a fellow man.

Style of Self-Expression: Much as Erytheia's upbringing has affected her psyche, it has also influenced the way she speaks. Her bearing is dignified and ladylike, and bears the hallmarks of higher Mistrallean society in the way she enunciates her words. Despite this, she also gives off a warm and welcoming air, freely mingling and interacting with those whom others in her position might balk at being seen in the same room with. That affectionate nature remains at an arm’s length, however - she shies away from casual contact where possible, avoiding anything more intimate than a handshake, and though kind, remains somewhat distant, leaning towards the elegant and mature, with a gentle politeness, as she has always done. She prizes actions more than words, but she also recognizes the importance that words can hold over the minds of men, and tailors them to fit whoever she is addressing at the moment.

Most Important Thing: To Erytheia, the most important thing is her family. Not in the sense of emotional connection she might feel with any individual member, but the weight of their history - the deeds they have performed, and the future they are working towards. From a young age, she has always been taught that as members with power beyond that of the average person, it is the responsibility of the Hellebore family to accomplish things beyond the scope of the average person. For her, the law of the jungle holds true - in every society, there will always be stratification of the strong and the weak. However, what separates man from beast is the ability to feel compassion, friendship, and love - for the strong to use their strength not to dominate, but to protect, nurture, and foster. It is Erytheia's heartfelt opinion that the most important aspect of the Hellebore clan is not the power they have on a societal, economical, or even personal level, but the compassion they bear, and the willingness to use that power to help those who otherwise cannot help themselves. As a member of the Hellebore family which possesses such a storied history, and lacking a sense of self worth strong enough to turn obsession into arrogance, Erytheia sees the deeds done by her family name as the ultimate representation of this philosophy, and thus holds it in the highest regard, seeking to improve it herself by the means mentioned above.

[attr=class,title]History Freeform

The Hellebores are an ancient and noble bloodline dating back to some of the earliest days of Remnant, with their lives heavily steeped in war. Many Hellebores have been warriors of great renown - Airtafae, their hereditary Semblance, has always been passed down from mother to daughter, and various members of the family have been known to prioritize finding husbands with elemental based Semblances in order to “strengthen” the version of Airtafae that their daughters would receive. Inheritors of Airtafae are characterized by their red eyes and it’s mark on their bodies, which differentiate them from other similar Semblances, and which are a mark of pride among the family. With these powers, the Hellebores built a mercenary company that eventually transitioned into business proper, and now holds a sizable chunk of the Mistral economy.

Erytheia's mother, Alramadi Hellebore, fought in the Great War when it came, along with many of her extended family. Coming away from the war with a great deal of mental trauma and shame at fighting for the losing side, as well as the loss of many of her siblings and cousins, Alramadi decided to pursue power at any cost, eventually pinning her hopes on her recently conceived daughter.

Reared under the looming shadow of noblesse oblige, the belief that those of high status owed it to those they guided, that all leaders should lead from the front, a young girl was subjected to intense studying as soon as she could hold a pen, and intense training as soon as she was old enough to properly hold a sword. From day to night and night to day, Erytheia Hellebore was treated not as a person, but as a vessel, full of responsibility and utterly lacking in familial love. There was never a word of praise from her parents that did not have anything to do with her studies or training, and her schedule was not only tightly packed but also tightly monitored, with few friends to speak of and even fewer times of leisure and relaxation. Even those of her own family and of her own age were not allowed to mingle with her overlong - there was always something else to study or another way to train.

Erytheia was moved into Sanctum as soon as she reached the age of eleven, forced apart from what little friendship she had in her previous school and thrown headfirst into grueling training and forced to conform to an entirely new set of rules. Despite that, her parents bore no sympathy or even understanding, berating her for her inability to maintain the standards she'd gotten as a young girl. Even though she came in at a very admirable top 5% in the entire cohort consistently, she was never praised for her diligence or even acknowledged. If she didn't top the chart in every possible aspect, she wasn't good enough - and when she did, it was only to be expected. After all, a daughter of the Hellebore family was expected to lead in all things. This led to a public mental breakdown from the constant stress, which in turn led to Erytheia's quick withdrawal from Sanctum, spending the rest of the time until her official graduation recuperating from the damage at the Hellebore estate. She never showed up in person to get her certification - instead, it was delivered on her behalf.

At the age of sixteen, Erytheia had been written off as a failure by her own mother, resulting in her being groomed to take over a high level but ineffectual position in her father's company. A betrothal, entirely political in nature, was enacted without her consent. Her first candidate discovered her lack of knowledge and respected her unwillingness to go through with it - for his trouble, he was financially assaulted and removed from his position of power within the Cloud District by her mother. The second candidate was much less scrupulous about the whole fact, and within days of her eighteenth birthday had tried to seduce her to bed. When that failed, he thought to try more physical measures. The stress of the situation unlocked her hereditary Semblance, which manifested as control over lightning and electricity - albeit uncontrollably, and with great power. Her own Semblance tore open the skin upon her arms with charred fissures before it burnt her Aura out, and putting her would be assailant in the hospital in critical condition.

The shock from the situation, and the time she spent recovering in a hospital, interacting with others, caused something to shift within Erytheia, allowing her to finally grow and develop differently than her mother had planned, gaining some semblance of autonomy. Once she had finally been declared sound of mind and body, Erytheia pressured her doctors to allow her to participate in courses that would allow her to control her Semblance, and to keep such courses hidden from her parents under the pretext that she was still healing. It took much persuading, but the young woman’s first meaningful choice in her entire life finally went as planned - aided in no small part by the head doctor’s desire to see the Hellebores’ money keep flowing in. The courses lasted for another year as she struggled to put her Semblance under control - Airtafae was wild and unstable, much like she had been, and it was both physically and mentally demanding to wrestle it into submission.

Partway through her rehabilitation, Erytheia saw the Fall being covered on news broadcast. The loss of life shocked her, but also led to a reevaluation of her priorities, centering her decision to separate herself from her mother's desires and vision for the future by pursuing something different and proving herself just as worthy of the family name as any before her. Upon completing her rehabilitation, Erytheia submitted an application for Haven Academy and managed to convince her mother to allow her one final chance as her saving grace.

During her time at Haven, Erytheia participated in multiple missions and continued to hone her skills, eventually becoming the de facto leader of Class Green after the retirement of the previous candidate. She was present for the attack on Haven Academy, if only nominally, and also participated in the Vytal Festival with three others, though she unfortunately did not make it to the finals. Having secured her position at Haven, Erytheia is now juggling multiple aspects of her life in the Cloud and Ground District while also bringing together disparate people under the banner of her Hellebore Company faction, Ignis, all to secure a position of power for her to effect changes to the world in accordance with her vision for Mistral's future.

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[Slate Seraphine]

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[attr=class,cs-body haven]

[attr=class,char-name]Slate Seraphine

"Senza tentazioni, senza onore!"

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[attr=class,title nomargin]Age 23 [attr=class,title]Gender Female [attr=class,title]Faction Haven Academy [attr=class,title]Tier Beginner [attr=class,title]Face Claim Bullet from Blazblue [attr=class,title]OOC Name Ryukai

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Traits

Date of Birth: 3 AV, August 2nd

Species: Faunus (Wolf)

Romantic Orientation: Horny

Aura Color: Orange

Height: 188 cm

Weight: 85 kg

Color Naming Rule: Slate: A light grey rock. Named for her light hair.
Seraphine: Derivative of Seraph, a name for a holy angel. Brings to mind white and yellow light.

[attr=class,main-title-right haven]Combat And Inventory

[attr=class,title]Semblance

Semblance Name: Repulse

Rank of Semblance: E

Semblance Type: Manipulator

Primary Category: Combatants

Secondary Category: Hazard

One Sentence Summary of Semblance: Repulse is a manipulation type Semblance that allows Slate to manipulate and solidify air.

Description of Semblance: Repulse allows Slate to solidify and move the air around her in a range of 10-12 meters, approximately the length of a telephone pole. Slate uses this Semblance liberally in fights, hitting enemies at a distance with blasts of solid air that hit as hard as any of her punches, perhaps even harder. One of her signature moves as the "Ash Hound" is the standing rush, or Stand Rush, where Slate advances on an opponent while punching at the air rapidly, creating a cone of wild and unpredictable attacks that overwhelm whoever is unfortunate enough to be the target. Such techniques are usually enough to secure victory at the cost of her Aura, due to Slate's experience as a one on one fighter, but are significantly less effective against numbers, such as when Grimm appear in swarms.

Drawbacks of Semblance: Repulse is useless if there is no air for Slate to manipulate - in a vacuum or underwater, for example. Her liberal usage of her Semblance also tends to cause her to run out of usable Aura quicker than most.

[attr=class,title]Weapon(s)

Weapon Name: Detonator: Ignis

Rank of Weapon(s): F

Category: Combatants

Description of Weapons(s): Slate wears a pair of metal gauntlets, but this weapon specifically refers to the gauntlet on her left hand. Noticeably bulky and larger than any other normal gauntlet, Detonator: Ignis allows her to not only punch without fear of damaging her knuckles, but also utilizes fire dust to launch ranged projectiles when her hand is curled into a fist, or expel fire when it is an open palm. While highly damaging, the flames die out quickly and do not linger unless provided with an environmental fuel source or a stronger Dust mixture.

[attr=class,title]Non-Combat Abilities

Name of Non-Combat Ability: Enter here
Rank of Non-Combat Ability: Enter here
Category: Combatants, Obstacle, Hazard, Social.
Description of Non-Combat Ability: Enter here

[attr=class,title]Combat Abilities

Name of Combat Ability: Rage Aggressor (Strength)
Rank of Combat Ability: F
Category: Combatants
Description of Combat Ability: Slate can lift up to 90-100 kg at her upper limit, and break through wood with her bare hands.

Name of Combat Ability: Afterburner (Speed)
Rank of Combat Ability: E
Category: Obstacle
Description of Combat Ability: Formerly a fisherman's daughter, Slate spent most of her childhood running along beaches and across fishing barges for some reason or other. With onset of her Semblance, this was enhanced by the ability to augment her speed by creating platforms of air beneath her feet to boost her forward, and this has been honed by both her fighting pit experience and her Haven tutelage to allow her to sprint for short distances in bursts of speed that reach up to 43 km/h.

Name of Combat Ability: Inferno Crusader (Durability)
Rank of Combat Ability: E
Category: Hazard
Description of Combat Ability: Years of time spent in the underground street fighting pits of her village along the coast of Menagerie and later on the coastal port city of Shirohoshi have given Slate's Aura and body the ability to take punishment as well as giving it out. The strength of her Aura is equal to that of any second year Huntsman trainee.

[attr=class,main-title-left haven]Character Information

[attr=class,title]Vitals

Primary Drive: This is generally going to be related to the goals/plot of the group your character is joining. What are their plot related goals? How are they working to accomplish that? How do they make decisions? What do they think they're doing and how do they justify doing it?

Fears: One deep fear like abandonment, loss of family, losing morality, etc. Several smaller fears like spiders, someone licking them, mold in food, just small things that bother them.

Style of Self-Expression: How do they talk to others? Are they shy or outgoing? Internally, are they confident or anxious and how do they express those feelings externally? Do they care about words more or actions when it comes to the people around them? Does their socioeconomic background affect the way they present themselves socially?

Most Important Thing: Every person has an exception to their in theory infallible ideals, what is yours? What is something that influences your character regardless of their moral code? What would they reject sacrificing even when driven to the brink, choosing to cut off their own finger rather than sacrifice? What would they kill for, if pushed? A character can believe firmly in every person being equal, but still show preference for a certain person when things come down to the wire. A character can believe in fairness in the moment but still act on a grudge at a critical moment. A character can be cool and collected, but if someone tries to spread misinformation about one specific thing they will lose their mind and fight against it no matter where they are or who they're in front of. (Application note: Please do not keep the example text with paragraphs in these sections. Delete them and insert your answers.)

[attr=class,title]History Freeform

Born to Set Seraphine and his wife Selene, Slate spent most of her childhood as the oldest of seven siblings - Shore, Strait, Soda, Smoke, Sterling, and Shea. As Set and Seline were Faunus of differing types, so too were all of the Seraphine siblings different. Shore, the youngest, had the wings of a seagull. Strait, the sixthborn, could spit octopus ink at will. Soda had the bushy tail and fluffy ears of a raccoon. Sterling and Smoke, the twins, were fox types, with fur like silver and charcoal respectively. And Shea was, like their mother, an aquatic type Faunus - an otter. As the eldest, and with all of her younger siblings male, Slate quickly learnt that the best way to get their attention and respect was to beat up each and every one, which she promptly set about doing at the age of six.

Set was a fisherman, who trawled the surrounding waters of their island to catch fish that he sold in the markets of Menagerie. Despite initial disapproval, Slate quickly made herself her father's most efficient assistance, joined by Shea and the twins when they grew old enough. They were never really poor, and certainly never thought of themselves that way, but once the four of them started working to help their father, within a year they had enough money saved up to buy another boat. Unlike her siblings, however, Slate yearned for more than just being a fisherman's daughter, and started participating in street fights late at night to blow off some of the steam she felt at being constrained in a lifestyle she didn't really appreciate any more. In her time there, she earned a nickname as one of the more popular fighters in the ring - "Ash Hound", a title she found highly amusing and held on to even into her later years.

Thus did her childhood pass. When she was fourteen, the Human-Faunus war broke out, and she jumped at the chance to join the fight, only to be aggressively beaten down into submission by her normally quiet mother to prevent her from going. Set mollified her by providing some of his catch as provisions to the cause, but as much as she wanted to, the Seraphine family never contributed more than token support to the revolution.

Time passed. The war ended, and the White Fang was formed. Slate liked their message of peace, and signed up. The White Fang secured her parents' approval by ensuring she got a rudimentary education out of the deal - she would learn basic education for a few months at one of the schools in Kuo Kuana, and serve however she wanted in the White Fang after she had completed it. On that note, Slate honestly tried, but it riled at her terribly to be shoved into a class of much younger students and to still struggle with the learning material, and most classes were a lesson in frustration as she yearned to be out and about instead of being cooped up. In the end, she barely scraped by to graduate, learning her letters and some basics of math and science - and then she boarded a White Fang ship to Anima, excited for her new life.

Under the White Fang's banner, Slate became a courier, delivering messages and supplies where ever she was needed. It quickly became clear that life in the White Fang's logistics department was nowhere as free and liberating as it had initially seemed, but she had to work off her contract before she could leave. Two years passed, and only then did she taste real freedom. No longer shackled to her family or Menagerie or the White Fang, Slate let herself run wild. Living day to day, doing odd jobs for quick cash and doing whatever she wanted, however she wanted - fights, games, gambling, drugs - anything that wasn't outright illegal, she probably did at one point. Slowly, she garnered herself a bizarre reputation as a sort of anti-bandit slash pit fighter - her old title, the "Ash Hound", was something she'd kept from her days at Menagerie, and she was more than happy to rub it in someone's faces while in a bar fight or in the ring. Lacking the self restraint that she'd had while under her family's thumb, Slate also started to pack on the pounds, forcing a change from her White Fang provided clothes and what she'd brought from home into what would become known as her regular outfit, which freed up everything in places that had become uncomfortably tight since then.

One day, a Huntress rolled through town. In a drunken stupor, Slate challenged her to a fight, only to be roundly trounced and unceremoniously dumped in a back alleyway like so much garbage. It sobered her up some, and she staggered her way upright to go bother the Huntress some more, none the worse for the wear. It was then that she learnt in detail about the Huntsman Academies, and her interest was piqued. Slate ditched her current little village and followed the Huntress on a six month winding journey towards Mistral, and Haven, ready to take another pot shot at trying her hand at being part of a school.

Haven promptly shot her down, and told her that no auditions were available for someone of her caliber.

That stung, more than a little. Embarrassed and irritated, Slate gave up on the notion of getting into the school and went back to being a pit fighter and doing odd jobs for money. The failure at even securing an audition slot spurred her on to begin training again in earnest beyond her fights in the ring, prompting a string of victories that saw the title of Ash Hound being spread around even more than before.

Then, one day, a few years and a continent away, Slate's Scroll beeped with a new message from a number she never thought she'd see again. Circumstances had changed, and apparently she was now eligible for audition. Still fairly pissed at how she'd been turned away, Slate shut it off and turned her attention back to the beer tower she'd been chugging that night.

The thought, however, lingered in her mind, and eventually, a few weeks later, she gave in to curiosity. Packing up her things and grabbing the weapon she'd used when she was working under the White Fang, Slate Seraphine set out to make the long trek to Mistral, once again.

Mainly because she'd spent all her cash on booze, and didn't have enough to spare on transport.

[attr=class,cs-bottom haven]