sanctuary V2 - signups

CloudyBlueDay

consistently inconsistent
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
I check as often as I can.
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Realistic/Modern, Magic, Scifi, Romance

CS INFO




>Try to aim for some funky junky cyberpunk names! Take a normal name and fuck it up. E.g, Jessica - Jezyka

>Characters can be of upper or lower class, not elite.

>Written appearance: picture is appreciated, no anime photos allowed. Realistic or real photos.

>For power creation or technological augmentation, please do not hesitate to message me, even to bounce off ideas, ask clarification questions, anything at all!

>Power creation: include a section for LIMITS and make sure it is BALANCED. Otherwise, there are no power restrictions, as long as it’s realistic… as realistic as it can get.

>Go wild with your tech augmentations. Make them do anythiiiiiiiing. Just keep in mind that tech augmentations cost money - lower class citizens are likely to have less augmentations than most. And remember that everyone has the standard implant (see lore)

>Every metahuman has a “glow” color; the color their eyes [and possibly powers] glow when they use their abilities. A color is specific to a person. Pick a color! (Please include a hex code!)

>Feel free to edit the coded CS as you see fit, create your own, or simply fill out the following skelly:

Name:
Age: (18-40)
Sex:
Date of Birth:
Class: (lower or upper)


Height:
Weight:
Written Appearance:


Personality:
Backstory:


Powers:
Technological Augmentations:
Glow:


If you need help with the coded cs, ping rissa on discord #3339





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sex:
date of birth:
class:[/b] (upper or lower) [/div] [/div]

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[b]Height:[/b]

[b]Weight:[/b]

[b]Written Appearance:[/b] Suscipit eleifend luctus. Maecenas consectetur accumsan tellus a sagittis. Nunc ac ipsum nec nunc dictum maximus. Ut augue eros, imperdiet sit amet velit nec, placerat fringilla nulla. Suspendisse vehicula euismod ex, eu commodo sapien. Maecenas quis pharetra ipsum. Nulla vulputate nulla eget rutrum tempor.

Aenean cursus tincidunt lectus, ut efficitur tortor tempor in. Vivamus nec eleifend leo. Phasellus lorem lorem, tempor et quam eget, imperdiet fermentum nisi. Integer vestibulum euismod purus, sed condimentum elit posuere vitae. Mauris ut mauris sit amet est gravida aliquam sit amet ac ipsum. Ut viverra viverra odio, non sollicitudin nibh tempus nec. [/div][/div][div=flex:1; margin: 5px; border-left: 2px solid #AD2962; border-bottom: 2px solid #AD2962;][div= text-align: center; font-family: Bungee Hairline; font-size: 1.8em; letter-spacing: 1.5px; font-variant: small-caps; font-weight: bold;]mental[/div][div=padding: 9px; font-size: .87em; font-family: Courier New;]
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Aenean cursus tincidunt lectus, ut efficitur tortor tempor in. Vivamus nec eleifend leo. Phasellus lorem lorem, tempor et quam eget, imperdiet fermentum nisi. Integer vestibulum euismod purus, sed condimentum elit posuere vitae. Mauris ut mauris sit amet est gravida aliquam sit amet ac ipsum. Ut viverra viverra odio, non sollicitudin nibh tempus nec.

Donec ac libero ut augue egestas tristique. Sed euismod, nulla ut rhoncus pharetra, arcu libero porta dolor, at venenatis nunc nulla at lacus. Vivamus quam dolor, dictum vel volutpat a, ullamcorper id velit. Fusce molestie mi sapien, sodales ultrices lacus tempus id.[/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div]

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Curabitur vel mi eget tellus luctus volutpat vel sit amet eros. Ut neque neque, gravida faucibus imperdiet sit amet, varius at leo. Ut tempus dui ullamcorper justo venenatis efficitur. Phasellus pulvinar tincidunt sem. Vestibulum facilisis tortor id nulla sagittis rutrum. Vestibulum iaculis leo interdum ligula euismod, et consequat lacus lacinia. Duis ullamcorper leo non tellus dictum, sed tincidunt ligula viverra. Nulla facilisi. Nullam nec sodales ligula.

Pellentesque suscipit eleifend luctus. Maecenas consectetur accumsan tellus a sagittis. Nunc ac ipsum nec nunc dictum maximus. Ut augue eros, imperdiet sit amet velit nec, placerat fringilla nulla. Suspendisse vehicula euismod ex, eu commodo sapien. Maecenas quis pharetra ipsum. Nulla vulputate nulla eget rutrum tempor.[/div][/div]


[div= max-width: 695px!important; height: auto; margin: 0 auto; ][div= padding: 7px;][div= box-shadow: -7px -7px 0 #014CAD, -11px -11px 0 #AD2962, 7px 7px 0 #601BB5, 11px 11px 0 #1A7A37;] [div= margin: 0 auto; width: 655px; overflow: hidden; cursor: crosshair; padding: 7px; font-family: Courier New; font-size: .84em;][div= width: 120%; height: 165px; overflow-y: scroll; margin-left: 10%; padding-right: 20%; ]
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[b]Glow:[/b]

[b]Description:[/b]

[b]Limits:[/b]



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Beiatrixx "Beia" Kolekouskee
age: 21
sex: Female
date of birth: February 13th
class:
Lower


physical


Height: 5'7"

Weight: 165 lbs

Written Appearance: Where there is grace and poise, Beia’s posture upholds the epitome of a bumbling, stumbling geek. Like the ever so popular goddess that she was, she tiptoed into establishments with the footfalls of a diseased animal, often accompanied by a stuttered rhythm. Not a nervous twitch at all. No way! Just a, uh...involuntary jerking of the muscles in her calves brought on by a darn near crippling anxiety and this sneaking suspicion that she had to burp but God not in front of all these people they’d totally ostracize her and--christ she was sweating.

Of course, first glances sent her way doesn’t help; with her small size and liking for oversized clothing, it’s hard not to bathe her in a pathetic light. On the contraire, Beia hides a well fit physique, lean and athletic, with especially chiseled legs.

Her softest features lie in the roundness of her face and the loose, wild waves of her bob, which comes to fall above the shoulders. Her overall frame is surprisingly hour-glassed with instances of muscle lining her limbs and teasing her tummy.



personality

Beia likes to think of herself as a self-depreciating optimist. So what if some shady dude with Terminator eyes just set her shoes on fire? Her piggies were getting cold anyhow; they deserved to breathe for a while and hopefully, just maybe, the asshole would choke on the fumes of her foot funk. Ha! Up yours, mister fire breathing dragon jerk...loser guy. Burn. (Heh...puns for days) Either way, Beia gets knocked down a lot for her quirks, but it’s those same qualities that keeps the hope boat floating, no matter how rocky the water could get sometimes.

Morally speaking, she teeters back and forth. Whether that’d be intentionally or against her will. About 80% of the time, Beia acts normally. A goofy dork with the charisma equivalent of an overturned turtle, but carrying around a heart of gold. Is that considered dumb as Hell while trying to survive in Tarkym? Yep. For sure. And she knows that.

However, in those scant moments of 20%, when stress is high and the pressure begins to crack her shoulders, her personality switches. Mercy, emotion, expression, all forms of sentiment drains from Beia and she functions like a cold shell of herself. Suddenly, all that matters is her own survival and doing whatever’s necessary to achieve this goal, which includes throwing someone else’s life into the gutter. But hey, that was the price Beia paid to keep her hormone balance in check.

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backstory

Ah, where to start? Birth--of course. But, alas, Beia’s birth occurred after five of them, leaving her as the youngest sibling among a batch of hormonal discord. Literally. Hormonal imbalance was a genetic catastrophe than ran in the Kolekouskee bloodline and it just so happened that every child was cursed with it. Fortunately for Beia’s elder siblings, none of them experienced fatal repercussions; however, Beia was the one to be born unlucky. With her excessive innate production of Vitamin D, she was forced to take up precautions since before the utterance of her first word.

Remaining inside at all times to avoid soaking up Vitamin D from sun rays, isolating herself from social interaction to avoid emotional triggers, monitoring her every move and twitch of the muscle (if she didn’t, collateral damage was bound to happen somewhere), and battling the symptoms of Vitamin D poisoning.

Caring for Beia turned out to be stressful and because of this, her parents had a tendency to overlook her existence and focus on her siblings. It was easier this way. Out of sight, out of mind. And Beia didn’t have the gall nor heart to call them out on the neglect.

Her saving grace came in the form of her aunt Syssylea (Sys for short); childless, aimless, and not exactly the most responsible adult around--yet she had taken in Beia as if she was her own child. Trouble gravitated towards trouble and the pair fell into unexpected harmony. This proved to be a relief for Beia’s parents, so they accepted the development without question. All went well for Beia, especially when she obtained her DHMs at the age of 16, granting her permission to interact with the outside world. She adopted to the ins and outs of Takym to the best of her abilities under Sys’s guidance and although she grew in leaps and bounds, it was impossible to scrub away all of that awkward dorkiness.

Of course, with every high came a low.

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Due to the effects of her DHMs, Beia was experiencing a particularly harsh month of emotions, each thought growing darker and emptier by the hour. She hit rock bottom in the form of committing something horrible and only experiencing earth-shattering guilt after the death had long transpired. The only witness present was Sys, who had dragged Beia away from the murder scene and swore to keep what happened a secret between them.

Years passed and so far, Beia had done well to bury the memory, though she still struggles to this day with her mood swings. She is currently living with her aunt Sys… until the invitation into Sanctuary arrived.




Vitamin D Replication


Glow: Goldfinch Yellow (Hex Code: #ffc40d)

Description: Beia’s body replicates Vitamin D at a heightened rate. Vitamin D is responsible for the absorption of calcium and contraction of muscle fibers, which in turn grants her heightened durability and extremely thick bones, along with intensified physical strength and stamina/endurance.

Limits: On the downside, the excess Vitamin D leads to Vitamin D Toxicity, the symptoms of which she suffered from as an adolescent. Symptoms include fatigue, nausea and vomiting, frequent urination, and possible kidney failure. Fortunately, her DHMs work well to keep her Vitamin D in check; unfortunately, they in turn disturb the levels of her other hormones, resulting in behavioral lapses and other temporary consequences that are hard to predict.



Technological Augmentations


Depressurized Homeostasis Monitors (DHMs): Six square-shaped vials are embedded into the skin of her back like a grid; a pair against her shoulders, the next against her middle back, and the last against her lower back. Each vial is intimately connected to Beia’s circulatory system. Their function is to regulate her hormone levels, specifically filtering out the excess Vitamin D from her bloodstream. When the vials reach full capacity, they silently excrete vaporized fumes of her hormones, which often makes Beia smell perpetually like oranges.




 
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Lyon 'Scorn' Corshezzi
age: 25

Sex: Male

date of birth: June 2nd

class: Lower


physical


kiki-kurnia-kikikurnia-float-characters-cyborg-guy01-f.jpg

Height: 5’11

Weight: 320lbs

Written Appearance: It’s very easy to tell at a glance what Lyon is all about. With all of his limbs made from different parts and cosmetically touched up to look like uniform pieces, multiple pieces of tech attached to his body at any given time and a surprisingly innocent gaze that can transform into a spiteful spirit of vengeance, Lyon is all about things mechanical. Standing at 5’11, Lyon would actually be fairly underwhelming if it wasn’t for his overly obvious cybernetics pervasively noticeable all over his body. His arms and legs, not to mention a couple sections hidden by clothing indicate someone who, despite his heritage, isn’t above putting himself through hell to get a leg up on anyone. Upon closer inspection though, it is clear to anyone with any knowledge of cybernetics that these particular limbs and mods aren’t bog standard, instead spliced together from whatever he’s managed to find lying around and use to his benefit.

His brown eyes match his hair, not only in color but intensity. He likes to wear his hair up, usually conditioned by only grime and dirt that comes with living in the lower class. His eyes have that thousand yard stare, but not in the sense that he seems like he’s far away and staying there, but more like he’s peering in your general direction and thinking about the best way to get to you in order to take whatever you have. Fit by any standard, that itself isn’t an achievement as getting fat is usually only reserved for the people who have the money to buy the luxuries of the upper class. Goggles adorn his forehead, while tight fitting shirts sit on his chest and bulky pants filled to the brim with tools and junk force his belt to do overtime.

He looks like an innocent kid at first, if somewhat heavily modified, and he uses that to his advantage.

mental


Lyon is someone who holds a vendetta against the entire world. He falls through life with a pessimistic and nihilistic view on nearly every subject that could possibly be discussed in average conversation, and even those that don’t. Hidden underneath a facade of just another kid living life in the lower class, his mind boils with ideas and tactics that flip the border between suicidal and stupid, only for his more logical side to come back and slap his brain silly with sound reasoning. While he can speak in a lighter, more jovial tone, it's often hard to find him in a position where that comes naturally. Burning hot like the sun, inside is a rage that holds society accountable for everything that's happened not only to him, but the people around him. He is always plotting a way to get back at them even when he knows his options are limited. So he plays the part of innocent if somewhat grumpy kid, more often than not hiding his intelligence unless necessary to the matter at hand.

When he’s not constantly succumbing to a dark desire to see everything around him crumble, he comes across as a very focused individual with an ambition that almost always overcomes his logical senses. Smart to a fault, even without formal education, Lyon has learned through trial and error so many things that you would be hard pressed to find even studied mechanics and doctors who would look at him and claim he knows nothing. With an almost photographic memory and a nearly supernatural ability to piece things together, he combines this with his need to progress into what he is today. The only thing stopping this man from essentially going full blown terrorist mode on the upper class is having enough sense in his mind to know that wouldn't solve the issues he's trying to address, along with his curiosity regarding cybernetics often making him distracted for long periods of time. On that note, his intelligence is something that often catches people off guard as, at first glance, he looks like a bog standard factory worker. He takes a silent bit of pride in showing people that he's not as dumb as he looks, and should they take him at face value, he'll prove to them that they're the idiots in that particular moment.

At his core, Lyon is an ambitious, vindictive and angry man who pushes all those feelings and emotions towards his goals, making him a very dangerous individual indeed.




Backstory


A lot of Lyon’s attitude could come from the circumstances surrounding his birth. He had no other option but to feel like he had been cursed from the moment he entered this world. Conceived by two people, only one of which was truly a parent, Lyon had the deck stacked against him to begin with. His parents mainly went around to have Lyon because the factory they were working with were offering bonuses around newborn children, mainly for child labour considering how cheap it would be to establish the factory line as their entire way of life. Who would really complain if it was all they really knew, right? Not to mention, with people being as poor as they were in the lower class section of Takym, the bonuses offered by the factory head had people breeding like rabbits to produce viable offspring to offer to the owner. It was a very dark time, one of which that hasn’t ended. Unfortunately for the two that eventually gave birth to Lyon, there was a problem.

Lyon was born without arms or legs. He was a quadriplegic at birth.

His so called ‘Mother’ sobbed, not because of how concerned for Lyon she was, but because she wouldn’t be able to get paid for a defunct child such as Lyon. They wouldn’t bother to put money into a single kid, what was the point? The moment she could move, she was gone, leaving Lyon with his father, the man who had gone in with the same motivation as the snake of a woman. Yet, something sparked inside him when he saw this child, as if there was something else aside from survival finally forming inside the pit that was his soul. Lyon was told he never cried when he was born, although many people simply believe that to be a side effect of his condition, he generally likes to believe he didn’t cry because he didn’t lose anything. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t worried, there was simply no other way forward but up. Thankfully, that happened with the help of his father.

His father went back to work, caring for this blob of a child who couldn’t even turn over on its own without the use of limbs. His father, who was already fairly tech savvy with the lower end of cybernetics himself, went about learning new ways to integrate mechanics into a growing child, with cybernetics that would advance with his son as he aged and grew. The process was slow, and for many years it simply wasn’t viable. Eventually his father gave up on that dream, of creating a brand new type of organic grown cybernetic and instead jury rigged the best that he could come up with with broken down and garbage parts from trash cans and disposals.

Lyon received his first arm when he was 4 years old, and to this day it was the single most painful event in his life. Without being able to afford any kind of anesthetic, his father tried to give his son a choice as to whether he wanted this done, but what kind of question is that to a 4 year old? They couldn’t comprehend what was about to happen. When the arm was attached, grafted to his nervous system and bone structure, Lyon remembers having flits of consciousness that delved deep into hysterical screaming and crying, all while his father did his best to hold him down and give him a chance at life.

Lyon doesn’t remember how long it took, but at the end he had a functional arm, if somewhat trashy looking. From that day forward, Lyon joined his father in looking for parts, in creating new and better things and getting himself, for lack of a better word, upgraded. By the time he was 12, he had a full set of limbs. These limbs were, of course, diverse and not at all uniform. He looked like someone had tried to put a puzzle together by pulling pieces from a completely different box and slapping them on. It wouldn’t do, and he felt a desire to make sure he looked the way he wanted to look.

During all of this was when Lyon’s festering hate of Takym, the upper class and generally everyone around him started to come to fruition. His father was constantly berated by people who believed themselves better than him, cheated by those in the exact same situation as them, and exploited by anyone who had the slightest amount of business sense. Lyon’s father was a fairly accomplished cyberneticist, but he was keeping it down low. To have such skills in his current position wasn’t a boon, it was a curse. If the factory knew what he knew, they would take those skills and he would never be heard from again. Lyon argued with his father time and again that it had to be better than standing at a conveyor belt, waiting for something better to happen. They agreed to disagree, until there was no more conversation to be had. When Lyon was 17, his father was killed in a factory accident. A major malfunction in the line that his father worked caused the entire line to spur out of control, and a stray piece of metal, blown free by the violent vibrations, ended up lodging itself in his father’s skull.

Now one would ask; wasn’t there any reparations? Lyon would look at you and laugh. The factory owner didn’t care, to him he was only concerned with filling the line again. Life was cheap, and it only helped to further sour his outlook on this pitiful existence. By this point, Lyon had already been working in a factory full time for meager amounts of deca, but on the side and without his father’s knowledge, had opened up what amounted to a hidden Cybernetics Shop. Intent on working on his own cybernetics, and make more money than simply slaving away over a lever, he used his innate ability to work with machines to his benefit. When his father died, a part of him felt guilty, but there was that undeniable feeling of vindication...in knowing you were right.

And it sickened him.

Lyon continued working away at his two jobs, continually upgrading himself when money, time and materials would allow it. His disposition earned him the moniker of ‘Scorn’ with a particular emphasis on his lack of bedside manner. A number of lower class people started to learn of him and before long, his cyberneticist business started taking off (Utilizing the nickname that his patients had given him; 'Scorn's Body Shop') enough for him to not bother with factory work anymore. He had every opportunity to up his game and move from lower to upper class, but refused to provide any services to those leeches that sucked the lifeblood from those beneath them. He purposely kept his abilities within the dredges of society, his own little way of being a humanitarian, even if it was also so he would fly beneath their notice while he figured out a way to make society as a whole pay. This life was not one worth having, and those at the top thought they could get away with making his home one of the lowest circles of Hell.

He would show them, all the had to do was wait.




Regeneration


Glow: Green

Description: Lyon views his particular ability not with respect or thankfulness, but as a very sick joke. Found out during his random tinkering with his body, Lyon's ability is triggered cellular regeneration. Cuts, bruises, broken bones (what few he has), internal bleeding, etc. Anything that could potentially harm him is healed through the usage of his adrenal glands which appear to have extended healing properties. Small cuts will heal themselves nearly instantly, while larger injuries will still take some time but even the worst usually only take about 24 hours to fully fix themselves. This has allowed him to perform his surgeries on himself so long as he can activate his adrenal gland to activate his healing properties.

Limits: The most notable limit to this power is that it's tied directly to his adrenal glands, not any sort of basic dna scripting. What this means is that, typically, the moment he's hurt he'll start to heal, but the moment that adrenaline high ends, his body goes back to basic healing. This is why his healing actually takes longer for larger injuries, not because it actually takes long once it kicks in, but because his adrenaline usually doesn't last long enough to heal the entire injury. Therefore he needs to manually activate his adrenal glands in order to accelerate it, which is another whole problem.

On top of this, his body seems to have been 'blueprinted' for lack of a better word. In other words, cybernetic attachments are the only way he can have his limbs, as any attempt to otherwise 'grow' a natural arm through genetic manipulation or bodily attachment would see that arm or leg, quite literally, fall off the moment he had an adrenaline rush since his quadriplegic form is the one his body is used to.

As yet another aside, due to his desire to mod himself, it also means that he somehow had to figure out a way to prevent his adrenaline healing process from closing purposely open tissue. The short term solution was to repeatedly cut open parts he needed, leading to excruciating pain until later when he finally installed a Adrenal Pump Heart Attachment (Below) that allowed him to control the flow of adrenaline through his body.

Technological Augmentations


Cybernetic Limbs: Born a quadriplegic, Lyon’s only hope at a normal life was cybernetic limbs. What once started as essentially trash arms and legs eventually became sturdy, reliable and functional parts of his person. Connected to his nervous system and bone structure, he can feel with them as if they were standard hands and feet. They also provide increased strength, durability and have a host of other possible upgrades. At the moment, his arms contain a number of different tools that allow him to perform his craft as a cyberneticist, while his legs are mainly focused on strengthening mods, including something that he likes to call ‘artillery’ mode, producing prods from his calves that nail him in place. Every once in awhile, he needs to defend his shop from people who think he’s an easy target, and he proves to them that he’s not once a single blow lands against an un-augmented jaw and shatters it to splinters.

Augmented Organs: Over the years, Lyon has gone out of his way to upgrade himself in whatever way he could. In a sense, he could be seen as overcompensating for what was essentially a false start at life, but regardless he has gotten around to strengthen his body with a variety of mods cobbled together from different parts and materials:

  • Iron Lungs: His lungs are still organic in nature, but in lacing them with a fiber weave that works in conjunction with the lining inside the lung, he can actually filter smoke and airborne toxins out of his body without a rebreather or any kind of gas mask. While he still needs to breath, he can hold his breath for several minutes, the longest being 27 minutes.
  • Super Filter Kidneys: Done shortly after his lungs, the kidneys were the next thing on his list to work on. Done one at a time for obvious reasons, and utilizing some ‘borrowed’ nanomechanical filament, he’s increased his kidney’s capabilities by a nearly 300% margin, making him almost impervious to poisons and toxins.
  • Updated Sight: One of the most harrowing surgeries he ever managed to conduct on himself, as the thought of never being able to see again was something that he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of. Using an automated algorithm coded into a particularly nasty bug known as the ‘brain scummer’, Lyon put himself under and allowed his own work to either, well, work or kill him. Stubborn to a fault, he would rather die than let someone else do this kind of procedure on him. In the end it worked, and when it did, he performed it on the other eye. Both of his eyes can now see in several spectrums, zoom and enhance, and most importantly, scan.
  • Adrenal Pump Heart Attachment: In an act of pure stupidity by anyone else’s standards, Lyon has managed to perform heart surgery on himself. How, you might ask? Simple, he straight up killed himself for a few seconds. Lyon’s stubbornness will get him killed one day, but apparently not the day he decided he needed a step up in case of a fight or flight scenario. While not a straight up heart transplant, it still required access to the organ and for Lyon to be awake to perform it. Using a jury rigged multiarmed surgery kit that would have been banned in any normal hospital, Lyon used his knowledge of mechanics and, at this point, the human body to remotely install what is classified as an amp. Connected through the arterial roadways of the heart, the Adrenal Pump attachment floods the body with, well, adrenaline in far excess of what the body typically produces. Utilizing a regulation system along with some metal inlay to keep the heart from exploding, it allows Lyon to essentially enter an extended Adrenaline Rush on command (although it does have to eventually refill it’s supply from the body’s adrenal glands). What made this harrowing was the fact that the pump couldn’t be properly attached while the heart was beating. So Lyon programmed the surgical arms with the commands and then...shut his heart off with a small concentrated electrical charge. Upon finishing the install, the pump was then activated and Lyon was brought back to the land of the living.


 
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Lyon 'Scorn' Corshezzi
age: 25

Sex: Male

date of birth: June 2nd

class: Lower


physical


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Height: 5’11

Weight: 320lbs

Written Appearance: It’s very easy to tell at a glance what Lyon is all about. With all of his limbs made from different parts and cosmetically touched up to look like uniform pieces, multiple pieces of tech attached to his body at any given time and a surprisingly innocent gaze that can transform into a spiteful spirit of vengeance, Lyon is all about things mechanical. Standing at 5’11, Lyon would actually be fairly underwhelming if it wasn’t for his overly obvious cybernetics pervasively noticeable all over his body. His arms and legs, not to mention a couple sections hidden by clothing indicate someone who, despite his heritage, isn’t above putting himself through hell to get a leg up on anyone. Upon closer inspection though, it is clear to anyone with any knowledge of cybernetics that these particular limbs and mods aren’t bog standard, instead spliced together from whatever he’s managed to find lying around and use to his benefit.

His brown eyes match his hair, not only in color but intensity. He likes to wear his hair up, usually conditioned by only grime and dirt that comes with living in the lower class. His eyes have that thousand yard stare, but not in the sense that he seems like he’s far away and staying there, but more like he’s peering in your general direction and thinking about the best way to get to you in order to take whatever you have. Fit by any standard, that itself isn’t an achievement as getting fat is usually only reserved for the people who have the money to buy the luxuries of the upper class. Goggles adorn his forehead, while tight fitting shirts sit on his chest and bulky pants filled to the brim with tools and junk force his belt to do overtime.

He looks like an innocent kid at first, if somewhat heavily modified, and he uses that to his advantage.

mental


Lyon is someone who holds a vendetta against the entire world. He falls through life with a pessimistic and nihilistic view on nearly every subject that could possibly be discussed in average conversation, and even those that don’t. Hidden underneath a facade of just another kid living life in the lower class, his mind boils with ideas and tactics that flip the border between suicidal and stupid, only for his more logical side to come back and slap his brain silly with sound reasoning. While he can speak in a lighter, more jovial tone, it's often hard to find him in a position where that comes naturally. Burning hot like the sun, inside is a burning rage that holds society accountable for everything that's happened not only to him, but the people around him. He is always plotting a way to get back at them even when he knows his options are limited. So he plays the part of innocent if somewhat grumpy kid, more often than not hiding his intelligence unless necessary to the matter at hand.

When he’s not constantly succumbing to a dark desire to see everything around him crumble, he comes across as a very focused individual with an ambition that almost always overcomes his logical senses. Smart to a fault, even without formal education, Lyon has learned through trial and error so many things that you would be hard pressed to find even studied mechanics and doctors who would look at him and claim he knows nothing. With an almost photographic memory and a nearly supernatural ability to piece things together, he combines this with his need to progress into what he is today. The only thing stopping this man from essentially going full blown terrorist mode on the upper class is having enough sense in his mind to know that wouldn't solve the issues he's trying to address, along with his curiosity regarding cybernetics often making him distracted for long periods of time. On that note, his intelligence is something that often catches people off guard as, at first glance, he looks like a bog standard factory worker. He takes a silent bit of pride in showing people that he's not as dumb as he looks, and should they take him at face value, he'll prove to them that they're the idiots in that particular moment.

At his core, Lyon is an ambitious, vindictive and angry man who pushes all those feelings and emotions towards his goals, making him a very dangerous individual indeed.




Backstory


A lot of Lyon’s attitude could come from the circumstances surrounding his birth. He had no other option but to feel like he had been cursed from the moment he entered this world. Conceived by two people, only one of which was truly a parent, Lyon had the deck stacked against him to begin with. His parents mainly went around to have Lyon because the factory they were working with were offering bonuses around newborn children, mainly for child labour considering how cheap it would be to establish the factory line as their entire way of life. Who would really complain if it was all they really knew, right? Not to mention, with people being as poor as they were in the lower class section of Takym, the bonuses offered by the factory head had people breeding like rabbits to produce viable offspring to offer to the owner. It was a very dark time, one of which that hasn’t ended. Unfortunately for the two that eventually gave birth to Lyon, there was a problem.

Lyon was born without arms or legs. He was a quadriplegic at birth.

His so called ‘Mother’ sobbed, not because of how concerned for Lyon she was, but because she wouldn’t be able to get paid for a defunct child such as Lyon. They wouldn’t bother to put money into a single kid, what was the point? The moment she could move, she was gone, leaving Lyon with his father, the man who had gone in with the same motivation as the snake of a woman. Yet, something sparked inside him when he saw this child, as if there was something else aside from survival finally forming inside the pit that was his soul. Lyon was told he never cried when he was born, although many people simply believe that to be a side effect of his condition, he generally likes to believe he didn’t cry because he didn’t lose anything. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t worried, there was simply no other way forward but up. Thankfully, that happened with the help of his father.

His father went back to work, caring for this blob of a child who couldn’t even turn over on its own without the use of limbs. His father, who was already fairly tech savvy with the lower end of cybernetics himself, went about learning new ways to integrate mechanics into a growing child, with cybernetics that would advance with his son as he aged and grew. The process was slow, and for many years it simply wasn’t viable. Eventually his father gave up on that dream, of creating a brand new type of organic grown cybernetic and instead jury rigged the best that he could come up with with broken down and garbage parts from trash cans and disposals.

Lyon received his first arm when he was 4 years old, and to this day it was the single most painful event in his life. Without being able to afford any kind of anesthetic, his father tried to give his son a choice as to whether he wanted this done, but what kind of question is that to a 4 year old? They couldn’t comprehend what was about to happen. When the arm was attached, grafted to his nervous system and bone structure, Lyon remembers having flits of consciousness that delved deep into hysterical screaming and crying, all while his father did his best to hold him down and give him a chance at life.

Lyon doesn’t remember how long it took, but at the end he had a functional arm, if somewhat trashy looking. From that day forward, Lyon joined his father in looking for parts, in creating new and better things and getting himself, for lack of a better word, upgraded. By the time he was 12, he had a full set of limbs. These limbs were, of course, diverse and not at all uniform. He looked like someone had tried to put a puzzle together by pulling pieces from a completely different box and slapping them on. It wouldn’t do, and he felt a desire to make sure he looked the way he wanted to look.

During all of this was when Lyon’s festering hate of Takym, the upper class and generally everyone around him started to come to fruition. His father was constantly berated by people who believed themselves better than him, cheated by those in the exact same situation as them, and exploited by anyone who had the slightest amount of business sense. Lyon’s father was a fairly accomplished cyberneticist, but he was keeping it down low. To have such skills in his current position wasn’t a boon, it was a curse. If the factory knew what he knew, they would take those skills and he would never be heard from again. Lyon argued with his father time and again that it had to be better than standing at a conveyor belt, waiting for something better to happen. They agreed to disagree, until there was no more conversation to be had. When Lyon was 17, his father was killed in a factory accident. A major malfunction in the line that his father worked caused the entire line to spur out of control, and a stray piece of metal, blown free by the violent vibrations, ended up lodging itself in his father’s skull.

Now one would ask; wasn’t there any reparations? Lyon would look at you and laugh. The factory owner didn’t care, to him he was only concerned with filling the line again. Life was cheap, and it only helped to further sour his outlook on this pitiful existence. By this point, Lyon had already been working in a factory full time for meager amounts of deca, but on the side and without his father’s knowledge, had opened up what amounted to a hidden Cybernetics Shop. Intent on working on his own cybernetics, and make more money than simply slaving away over a lever, he used his innate ability to work with machines to his benefit. When his father died, a part of him felt guilty, but there was that undeniable feeling of vindication...in knowing you were right.

And it sickened him.

Lyon continued working away at his two jobs, continually upgrading himself when money, time and materials would allow it. His disposition earned him the moniker of ‘Scorn’ with a particular emphasis on his lack of bedside manner. A number of lower class people started to learn of him and before long, his cyberneticist business started taking off (Utilizing the nickname that his patients had given him; 'Scorn's Body Shop') enough for him to not bother with factory work anymore. He had every opportunity to up his game and move from lower to upper class, but refused to provide any services to those leeches that sucked the lifeblood from those beneath them. He purposely kept his abilities within the dredges of society, his own little way of being a humanitarian, even if it was also so he would fly beneath their notice while he figured out a way to make society as a whole pay. This life was not one worth having, and those at the top thought they could get away with making his home one of the lowest circles of Hell.

He would show them, all the had to do was wait.





Technological Augmentations


Cybernetic Limbs: Born a quadriplegic, Lyon’s only hope at a normal life was cybernetic limbs. What once started as essentially trash arms and legs eventually became sturdy, reliable and functional parts of his person. Connected to his nervous system and bone structure, he can feel with them as if they were standard hands and feet. They also provide increased strength, durability and have a host of other possible upgrades. At the moment, his arms contain a number of different tools that allow him to perform his craft as a cyberneticist, while his legs are mainly focused on strengthening mods, including something that he likes to call ‘artillery’ mode, producing prods from his calves that nail him in place. Every once in awhile, he needs to defend his shop from people who think he’s an easy target, and he proves to them that he’s not once a single blow lands against an un-augmented jaw and shatters it to splinters.

Augmented Organs: Over the years, Lyon has gone out of his way to upgrade himself in whatever way he could. In a sense, he could be seen as overcompensating for what was essentially a false start at life, but regardless he has gotten around to strengthen his body with a variety of mods cobbled together from different parts and materials:

  • Iron Lungs: His lungs are still organic in nature, but in lacing them with a fiber weave that works in conjunction with the lining inside the lung, he can actually filter smoke and airborne toxins out of his body without a rebreather or any kind of gas mask. While he still needs to breath, he can hold his breath for several minutes, the longest being 27 minutes.
  • Super Filter Kidneys: Done shortly after his lungs, the kidneys were the next thing on his list to work on. Done one at a time for obvious reasons, and utilizing some ‘borrowed’ nanomechanical filament, he’s increased his kidney’s capabilities by a nearly 300% margin, making him almost impervious to poisons and toxins.
  • Updated Sight: One of the most harrowing surgeries he ever managed to conduct on himself, as the thought of never being able to see again was something that he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of. Using an automated algorithm coded into a particularly nasty bug known as the ‘brain scummer’, Lyon put himself under and allowed his own work to either, well, work or kill him. Stubborn to a fault, he would rather die than let someone else do this kind of procedure on him. In the end it worked, and when it did, he performed it on the other eye. Both of his eyes can now see in several spectrums, zoom and enhance, and most importantly, scan.
  • Adrenal Pump Heart Attachment: In an act of pure stupidity by anyone else’s standards, Lyon has managed to perform heart surgery on himself. How, you might ask? Simple, he straight up killed himself for a few seconds. Lyon’s stubbornness will get him killed one day, but apparently not the day he decided he needed a step up in case of a fight or flight scenario. While not a straight up heart transplant, it still required access to the organ and for Lyon to be awake to perform it. Using a jury rigged multiarmed surgery kit that would have been banned in any normal hospital, Lyon used his knowledge of mechanics and, at this point, the human body to remotely install what is classified as an amp. Connected through the arterial roadways of the heart, the Adrenal Pump attachment floods the body with, well, adrenaline in far excess of what the body typically produces. Utilizing a regulation system along with some metal inlay to keep the heart from exploding, it allows Lyon to essentially enter an extended Adrenaline Rush on command (although it does have to eventually refill it’s supply from the body’s adrenal glands). What made this harrowing was the fact that the pump couldn’t be properly attached while the heart was beating. So Lyon programmed the surgical arms with the commands and then...shut his heart off with a small concentrated electrical charge. Upon finishing the install, the pump was then activated and Lyon was brought back to the land of the living.


Hi, this is my fault for not mentioning so earlier, but it is required that characters have powers! Even if small.
 
Donezel Washington
 
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SUGAR



INFO

Full Name || Sacharryn (Sasha-Ryn) Ouigamre (Wee-Gam-Rey)
Nickname || Sugar​
Age || Twenty​
Sex || Female​
DOB || January 2nd​
Class || Upper (formerly lower)​

APPEARANCE

"Pretty faces come and go... but when you belong to Madam, no one forgets you..."

Sugar is on the smaller side - her stature slightly below average, with a lean figure that, while feminine in nature, is rather decidedly lacking in curvature. Despite her lack of height, her legs take up a significant portion of her frame, an appearance that might be considered gangly, were it not for the training she received to improve posture and stance.

Her features air towards delicate as well - freckled skin nearly flawless, but for the tiniest of scars along her brow, deep brown eyes almond shaped, wide set beneath narrow brows and thick lashes. A small, button nose sits central and below this, full lips, beneath which are stark white, straight teeth. Hair, also dark brown hangs just below her shoulders, in slightly unruly waves.

Her wardrobe is naturally casual, and outside of her work within the Hanamachi, Sugar wears very little in regards to makeup and ornamentation. Because she is an apprentice, she has yet to receive her Geisha wardrobe, but within the Tea Room, she typically sports a traditional kimono - dark blue in color.

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Height || 5'2"​
Weight 100lbs.​
Eye Color || Brown​
Eye Glow || Purple (#7d2a5f)
Hair Color || Dark brown​
Build || Narrow​



PERSONALITY

"In time all things can be molded..."

CURIOUS PASSIONATE WILD MALLEABLE

Loyalty does not come as naturally to Sugar as it might some of Madam's older, more traditionally allocated associates. Because of the nature of her arrival to the Hanamachi, Sugar has a tendency to be something of a spitfire, though never enough that she would find herself removed from the safety of Madam's personal sanctuary.

Despite her somewhat untamed nature, Sugar is a kind young woman, curious about the world around her. She had a heart for those in genuine need, and an inclination to prove that not everything in the world Madam has built bears the same aloof, untouchable quality. Somewhat loose with her candor, Sugar finds it difficult to hold her tongue - and on more than one occasion, this has resulted in punishment - but her will remains unbroken.

She is, nevertheless, somewhat desperate to please her employer, and for this, she can be quite easily manipulated by the woman, given to acquiescence where, prior to her appointment as apprentice, she might otherwise have shown stubborn immovability.

STRENGTHS
+ | Strong Willed
+ | Kind
+ | Creative
+ | Open-minded

FLAWS
- | Curious
- | Passionate
- | Brazen
- | Afraid



HISTORY

"We are all tools, useful in our own way."

From a young age, Sugar showed an unusual gift for manipulation. It did not take her parents long to figure out that this was, by no stretch of imagination, a natural charm. The gift that Sugar possessed was dangerous - unruly and complicated, and something neither parent could hope to understand… but Lord, did they try.

No one blamed them, however, when things became increasingly more difficult, for seeking an outside source… and they could never have predicted the route their request for aid would take. Nor could they imagine that what was meant to be a temporary solution would rob them of their daughter. But a child that could manipulate the mind… trap a person within their own desires was something Madam did not just want... It was something she needed.

The next four years of Sugar's life revolved around training… Learning how to stand, to walk, to speak. Learning how to read a person… how to charm. Learning how to stop asking if she could see her parents, or when she was going home. By the time she was a old enough to understand the life she had been unwittingly thrust into, Madam's hold was too strong, and fear for what might become of her family, who survived only on Madam's support, had sunk in deeply enough to keep her rooted.

But only ever so deep that Madam would never suspect her intentions...

Beneath the obedient and good little girl, lay a determination to free herself from the binds of her mistress - to return to her family, to her life and make right all the things she had done wrong as a child, which drove her to such a position in the first place. It was a plan that built nearly to fruition... until such a time as her apprenticeship ended, when Madam announced that Sugar would not, in fact, be moving up to the second tier... but would, instead, serve an entirely unexpected purpose.
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POWERS & AUGMENTS

READING​

The first phase of Sugar's power is the simple ability to read a person's desires or needs. This is done, to a degree, through empathic connectivity - all an aspect of the mental nature of her illusion abilities.​
MIRAGE​

Through that same empathic connection, Sugar is able to stimulate the areas of the brain which control emotion and memory, and create a hallucinogenic effect that provides the target with a realistic vision of their deepest urges or desires. These visions last as long as the target continues to focus on these thoughts, or until Sugar releases their mind from the trap.

This ability to manipulate the mind works more strongly and last longer on the weak willed or on those with a lesser intelligence. Sugar cannot use her abilities without prolonged eye contact, and because of this, it is entirely ineffective on anyone with eye-augmentation or a person with vision impairment.​
AUGMENTATIONS​

radiocarpal injectors || An augment built into her right wrist holds a neurostrimulant spray that when inhaled, releases endorphins, allowing her abilities to take deeper root. In the left wrist is a similar injector that when sprayed, releases cortisol toxin, a defense mechanism, should her abilities fail..​

Code by Elle Joyner
 
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Mondei Dai
age:19
sex:Female
date of birth:May 21st
class:
Upper


physical

Height:5'2"

Weight:119 lb, 54 kg
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Written Appearance:
Who doesn't like to smile? Misanthropes, that's who! And Mondei is definitely not a misanthrope. No siree.

Mondei may be short and and slim, but don't let that fool you! Because…well, she is short. And slim. And often gets mistaken for being younger than she is, especially because of the size of her eyes and her overall demeanour seeming to shout 'cute'. Just about everything is bigger when you're as small as Mondei. But with a bright, healthy smile and swift reflexes, Mondei welcomes everyday to be filled with more things to experience.

Currently, she's trying out a different cut, with a shorter, wavy look for her dark purple hair. Usually, Mondei wears shoes with higher heels, or finds situations where she can usual sit, to try detach from her small height. As for her dressing style, she goes for the preppy, young-adult look.
mental

Mondei grew up with an overwhelmingly positive mindset. Her parents were always around to make sure she would be able to find the shine in every situation. No matter what comes at her in her cushy, upper class life, nothing would faze her!

That said, despite her parent's almost overprotective nature, Mondei still wanted to see more outside of what she knew. And when she finally did, her mindset…didn't change, but rather she found a new determination. A new purpose to drive herself towards. Since then, she's gained an odd hero mindset, an entire subversion to most people, that made her actively desire to help others. One day though, she'll have to wake up from her fairytale dreams…

Naive to the nature of people and expecting things to just 'work out', Mondei finds it hard to see the 'bad' in people, and is consistently disturbed when such natures reveal themselves.

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backstory

Mondei had an almost unreasonably good life. Upper family, silver spoon, her own hover cycle by the time she was five years old and all that. It was as if her parents were giving her every reason not to leave the home.

Which they were.

Of course, nothing can truly stop a child's curiosity. Especially not one with a power such as Mondei. One of her favourite pranks as a child was cheating while playing hide and go seek by using her powers, and once she figured out what she could really do, where she could go…

It didn't take long is all that's needed to be said.

Mondei eventually found her way to the lower class areas once and it was…suitably shocking for her. Enough that she hasn't made a direct trip again since, that one trip was enough. That was all it took for her to decide what she wanted to do with her life.

Mondei knew she wasn't very strong. And she didn't want to break the law, and she knew for SURE she wasn't going to make a difference on her own. She'd love to be like the heroines in the stories and shows she watched, but she definitely didn't have anything special to match them. So she went another way.

VR gaming became her goto form of spreading fun as well as awareness about the state of the city and the world. Rising to fame in multiple games and competing in professional tournaments, she sent donations and a large portion of her earnings to charitable organizations (ones she trusted, or assumed would help). Ever the optimist, she continues her efforts, even if they show no real change yet…




Dimensional Door


Glow: Dark Purple-#871f78

Description:
Mondei can create a door within 5 meters of them on any surface. The door only enters her dimension if the first one to touch it is Mondei, otherwise remaining 'locked'. The dimension can freely move based on the her will, allowing the door to open and exit anywhere. Likewise, the doors inside the dimension can appear anywhere. The appearance of the door can take any form Mondei wants as long as it is a door.

Limits:

-The dimension begins at 5x5x3 meters large and cannot house anything larger than it.
-The dimension grows gradually with the user's age.
-A door cannot be opened if the user has not been to the location.
-Doors must be made on flat surfaces
-Minimum space for a door is 1 meter by 2 meters
-Only 1 door can be opened at a time
-One pair of doors can be made every 5 minutes


Technological Augmentations






 
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Muidraw
age: Thirty-seven.
sex: Male.
date of birth: The First of April.
class:
Lower.


physical

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 190lbs.

Written Appearance: [[Link]] Muidraw is homely, what with his square face and features that are uniformly overshadowed by a pair of too-bushy eyebrows. His features are set resolute and curt, and resolutely curt to boot; the man seems to actively strain in order to suppress expression. His form is stilted and rigid, an inflexibility made doubly apparent by a wide set of tree-trunk legs and arms that seem a smidge too short by proportion. A compact torso and sturdy musculature point to a man of regiment and action.

His dress is simple, and Muidraw eschews the concept of ‘matching’ to an almost impressive extent; his clothing is, without-fail, monocolor and even tends towards uniformity in texture.
mental

Muidraw is as quiet as he is angry, which makes him lovely company.

For all his brevity of speech, Muidraw is, in a world of oppressed grayscale chemical-slurpers, horrifically alive. Indulgence and violence are synonymous to the man, who always looks for the next mark, the next thrill. He sucks sloppily from the marrow of conflict and “us vs. them” mentality and is very much addicted to the one-sided war he wages against the unfeeling machine of Takym.

With that said, he is a man of a certain set of ethics, of a deliberated integrity, so long as your ethics are more or less solely limited to the tenets of filial piety, camaraderie, and “might makes right”.


backstory

Muidraw was raised amongst a lineage expansive enough to be called a ‘clan’, men and women in a chrome world with flesh that looked, felt, and tasted just like his; a microcosm that had the audacity to maintain its homogeny in an ecosystem that threshed and discarded with little care for symmetry or the order of blood. Out of a necessity to survive, the clan had become futuretech hyena, scavenging parts and extra packets to survive, though their quarry eventually turned to the living and breathing and bleeding. From this clan of thieves, Muidraw had expected something approaching those traceless, untenable words: family, honor.

Only when Hilo had started seizing, hands of serrated steel still grasping upon their contraband, Muidraw’s ilk had stood stockstill, watched, and feigned ignorance as the elder rogue was taken away. From this, Muidraw learnt that his tribe would break and break and break with each minute prod of the system. This, he simply could not abide, and though young Muidraw was lacking the strength and finesse to piece and hold such flimsy components together, he came to accept one mantra that led him to the doing.

Get better, get stronger, or get gone.

Two separate growth spurts, twelve more incarcerations witnessed first hand, seven deaths, and some-murky-number of years later, Muidraw found himself the bonafide leader of a clan of blood-siblings and sworn-siblings and thieves who managed to subsist, just barely, but subsisted together, and thus thrived.

Given an invitation from one Lyris Matrikt, Muidraw sees an opportunity to take it to the next level:

He’ll find a way to bring all of them in, all his brothers and sisters.




Neoplasia


Glow: A dull green that almost verges on grey.

Description: Muidraw’s power is gruesome. Simply speaking, he is able to sprout growths of additional tissue from anywhere on his body. The ability is grown to such an extent that Muidraw is functionally capable of morphing into a tumorous form, via ‘growing’ from the entirety of his body. In such a form, Muidraw slides around with some bizarre locomotive method (imagine, unfortunately, mounds of tissue cascading like the movement of waves, caterpillars and tank treads) and is able to envelope hapless marks entirely.

Limits: Active growth and semblance of control over growths persists for a maximum period of around one and five minutes respectively (by one minute, Muidraw can grow to his max-size, equal to a Skytrain car). Even after the capacity to grow and control is lost, Muidraw is hampered as the growths shrink back into his body.



Technological Augmentations


Solidarity - Muidraw and all his sworn-siblings have a series of implants embedded within them (elbows, knees, neck, torso) that serve one singular purpose. When activated with a series of complex hand-signs, the implants begin emitting a chemical agent from within, which rapidly eats away at the body until not a single trace remains.

It is, however, shoddy tech made without regulation by a dubiously-qualified tinker. Without going into too much detail, there are cases where the attempted self-termination failed in all regards beside depriving the augmented of his four limbs.




 
a reminder that i will be closing signups 4/28 at 8pm pst. get those cs’s in!
 
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Enki Ravi
age: 19
sex: male
date of birth: December 7.
class:
Upper


physical

Height: 6'0

Weight:170

Written Appearance: Standing 6'0 tall, this pale skinned male has a mischievous feel about him. A particularly notable feature is his resting apathetic face. He sports a squishy face, a small nose, and full peach colored lips. His ears are pointy and he has thick eyebrows he hides behind his greasy hair. His greyish black hair is upper neck length, uneven on most sides and almost always a mess. He doesn't go to the gym, so his arms are lacking- his torso is quite lean and the opposite of a killing machine, an average waist, and long legs. LINK
mental

Enki is deeply attached to history and community. He sports an exceptional memory for people, their likes, interests, and etc. He likes to keep meticulous figurines and a well manicured home, inside and out. He has an extremely well developed sense of space, function, and aesthetic appeal so everything about him is aimed to be quite beautiful. So he is the type to select just the right gift for a certain person. As a teenager, he was a teacher's pet. Unwilling to toot their own horns, thus often they are treated like doormats. They are never happy in uncertain environments, often easy to irritate when they aren't completely settled. They are loyal to people, but not to institutions. He is the undying loyal friend who reminds most people of a parent but in a good way, sometimes. He is on media almost too much, to stay upon the latest designs. He is an extremely bad delegator. They have no sense of privacy and will invade that of others, especially friends and family. They feel it is wrong to want credit for doing a good job, however he resents not getting it. He is apathetic to those who he doesn't know, and sometimes can be overly aggressive.


backstory

“Will Curiosity kill the cat?”

Born into a wealthy family of feline based powers, it was no surprise when his parents passed down genes for him to adopt the kitty abilities. There were a lot of issues following the young years of Enki, they couldn’t figure out for the life how to get Enki to come out of his cat form that he did once and was semi stuck in it. For 3 years he was stuck in his cat form, and when he came out to finally being a humanoid- his family found out when he fell from learning how to use his legs- he couldn’t feel pain. It was confusing and terrifying for his parents, his father blamed his mother for her harsh nature that their son would be a nonpain feeling sociopath and they spent a while being afraid of him.. But eventually noticed that he was like any other young kid. Except without the danger limit. So when he was out in the field smelling flowers and would get stung by a bee, he wouldn’t notice it. Enki had to be taught what to steer clear of from something other than pain. Not only was he not a sociopath, he was a COMPLETE sweetheart- so much that his mother began to turn on his father for how ‘kitty like’ he really was. He lived free of worries, though his mother disapproved they would not stop him because it wasn’t particularly harmful and he could make somewhat of a living off it. He was a teacher’s pet in school and a known sweetheart around the school. He grabbed the attention of a lot of people and made friends quite easily, having a nice social life. Around the house, his mother would harshly coach him on how to ‘cat’ and how not to ‘cat’, he was incredibly flexible- but somewhat a nuisance with his condition when he would accidentally pull a limb, so he had to be told about how he could possibly tell when he is going over his limit.

The more he was outside, the more he began to truly adore the art and beauty of everything. He stares for longer than he should on things that he feels should be cherished, and can come off kind of fatherly. He lived worry free until he was about 16 years old, but at that point in life things began to change. His design and art was getting more word around, he had gained more friends, but he put it all in perspective when he had came across his first low-class person. Before he could even speak a word to them, he was chastised heavily by his friends and his family who his friends had told. He separated himself from them after that, feeling that he didn’t want friends like that and that their personalities were heinous to see in act. As he grew older, he grew more and more curious but still focused on beauty and creation. He loved the fact that he was able to reach spots with his cat like abilities, and loathe the problems that came with it. He stopped being around that many people, and he ended up moving out at 18 due to the success of his projects. Much to the approval of his business savvy mother, he wanted to branch himself out and hopefully create an alternative art gallery of his works. But things have been changing quite quickly, he is growing more curious about the world he has never gotten into contact with. He feels like there is this half of the world that he hasn’t met and that bugs him to high heaven, but he could lose everything if he tries it.




Cat-Man


Glow: Skyhigh Blue #A1E5FB

Description:
High agility
Extreme flexibility
Sensitive Senses
Night Vision
Body Morphing

Limits:
Low attention Span
Hairballs
Can be TOO SENSITIVE
Overactive Hair Growth(Arms,Back,Legs,Chest,etc.)
Inbetweening [Body Morphing isn't perfect, he can sometimes be caught in between. I.E. Cat ears, cat tail, Human legs, Human head, Naked Cat, etc.)


Technological Augmentations

Holographic Collared Display[H.C.D].
HCD is a very thin collar shaped implant attached to the inside of his neck. It serves as a routine protection against Enki disasters- so when something from another form doesn't belong, it is replaced by 4D Holographic Display. So if Enki is a human with cat legs, he can use HCD in order to not hurt himself or completely terrify the general public. It attaches automatically to the misplaced limb, but can not be used for anything besides the basic use of said limb. So if it is human legs, it can only do basic human leg things. Like run, jump, walk, bend, etc. He can not jump as high as he normally would and if he has HCD ears his sensitivity isn't as high as it would be without it. They are base and average forms created simply to save him from bad situations. It has also been programmed to aware Enki on when he is in physical trouble, so it serves well for his condition[ C.I.P] for when he is accidentally burning himself on the counter top, etc.



 



aryel "ry" jaffe
age: 26
sex: Male
date of birth: July 17th
class:
Lower


physical
5a978a93a7af74ea6eb3f8a4dbc3e437.jpg

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 138lbs

Written Appearance:
Fully dressed, Aryel Jaffe blends into the crowd - just another of the teeming billions who live in the dirt and the grime of lower class Takym. At 5’8” with a well-muscled build he is maybe not the typical Packet factory drone but that is usually obscured by a loose and battered “bomber” jacket and one of his three shirts.

His black hair is close-trimmed but untidy, and while he shaves religiously he frequently shows the odd bruise or cut that draws him sidelong looks from folk he meets on the streets; admiring from many of the young, wary disapproval from the older generation.

His skin is a pale golden hue - lack of sunlight and some inadequacies in the standard Takym diet warring with some ancestry from somewhere across the seas. His features generally are powerful, sober, with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose that match well with the dark blue of his eyes.

When his shirt and jacket are off on the other hand (when he is working on his groundcycle for example, or actively using his powers) his tattoos are more visible; intricate swirling patterns of black ink across the canvas of his skin, rising up each of his arms to encircle roses on each shoulder and a third on his upper chest, with a sword driven through it. He had these done some years ago, though the ink and colours are still vivid.
mental

Aryel is typically intense, with a lot going on beneath his surface demeanor.

He has never quite fit in to the regular drone-unit corporate lifestyle of most lower class Takym society, working, eating, sleeping and repeating with a minimum of thought (or energy) for anything different. He certainly hasn't had the educational opportunities of someone from the Upper classes; instead he finds himself a scavenger, digging through old ruins and broken factories in search of forgotten valuables, parts, anything that someone will pay him for. It's a sometimes arduous job, and he doesn't always come back with a Find but he's reliably lucky enough that he can make a living of it - and so he does, by and large.

He is quietly friendly, and wouldn't turn away from a violent wrong happening right in front of him but in his mental map of the world he places himself and his survival firmly first. His acquaintances come next out of a sort of mutual self-interest, but he has never really made any true friends.

Whether that's down to him or his environment is anyone's guess. He rarely gives it much thought.

Aryel is logical and prefers to reason things out. He tends to be flexible and thinks outside the box, preferring to focus on what he does (or, the "big picture") without worrying about every little detail of how it works.

Personality Type: INTP




backstory

Where to begin?

Aryel's parents were upwardly mobile hacktivists, fighting on the one hand to get out of the dingy halls of the teeming throngs and into the gated communities of the Upper Class, while at the same time fighting against the socio-economic inequities that enforced this brutally flat pyramid. Idealists of a kind, they were convinced that if they could expose (and rob) enough of the haves, they could start a movement that would redress centuries of inequity and bring about a healthy standard of living for all. In short, they were idiots. For eight months their attack on the privileged classes brought their aliases to increasing prominence (see Black Rose and Vixen) until they crossed the wrong Elites and government security forces brought them to justice.

The Haves are always watching.

Aryel was placed in state care at the age of 7, and after his parents died in prison was moved to a Juvenile Outreach facility where at the age of 12 he was placed in a Packet factory on the Asian Laksa production line. By his next birthday he had "escaped" to live rough on the streets and learned to scavenge things of value. He was conned more than once, reinforcing his self sufficiency, wariness of authority and independence. He learned who to deal with, and the people who betrayed the scrawny youth learned better. It was a hand-to-mouth existence and it was during these formative years that he developed his power while exploring the old discard heaps outside an abandoned research facility. His first reaction - as any teen - was to go overboard and live the life he'd always dreamed... but his parents' example and his own experiences resonated deeply and he learned to keep his head down. While he would never go hungry again, neither would he follow his parents' path and try to make his way to the Upper Class. He wouldn't try to be a hero.

The Haves are always watching.

Today he has a small place of his own and a rebuilt vintage groundcycle. Never wealthy, he disappears into ruined and abandoned facilities regularly, "finding" small items of value that he can peddle on the grey and black markets. What he has is a temporary living, temporary comfort as long as he is content to keep living for today. There is little future in it, and perhaps this is why after his initial shock he accepted the invitation to Sanctuary.




Transmutation


Glow: Ice Blue (#81F8F9)

Description: Aryel can take a quantity of matter, place his hands on it, focus his mind and change its shape and composition. Glass to steel, concrete to gold, brick to fresh juicy apple. On the surface of this, in today's resource-poor environment this is an amazing gift to have... but it's also one that society is hardly likely to leave to operate at the whim and will of some lower class drone. The best of them would be inclined to use him, the worst to take him over or manage him, and so he does his very best to keep a low profile and simply use his gifts to "find" valuables in the ruins. One day he might take a crumpled groundcar door and patiently work it into a double-headed spear to sell. Another he might "find" forty pounds of unusually intact circuitry. Always something he thinks he can sell, and never something he can't explain away.

He's just lucky, right?

Limits: The biggest and most obvious limit is that transmuting matter takes time, concentration and a lot of energy. Yes he could take an hour and a half and "make" an apple, but just eating that apple is unlikely to get him the calories he's burnt on making it, let alone fill his stomach. He can't simply click his fingers and will a hovercar to manifest in front of him. With his limited wardrobe this is also why he does much of his work topless to avoid staining his shirts with sweat.

A second limit is that he requires the matter and mass to work on. Solids are easiest as they have more density, although he's worked with liquids as well. Working from gases is exhausting to achieve anything at all, as there are only the tiniest particles of matter in the air and it takes a vast amount to make something as simple as a ham sandwich.

Technological Augmentations


Epidermal Conductors || At the same time as his powers first manifested (while exploring the discard heaps), a curling trace of subdermal scarring appeared along both his arms, shoulders and upper chest. By and large this was later covered by the tattoos he purchased, but when he is using his powers these tend to gleam and set off his "glow". Equally these boost the reaction time of his upper body, and combined with his basic street-fighting moves have helped to keep him out of trouble and avoid groundcycle crashes in environments which could only be described as hazardous.




 




Tallowyn Izorti
age: 24

Sex: Male

date of birth: April, 4th

class: Upper



physical




Height: 6’1


Weight: 175


Written Appearance:

Tallowyn is a scrawny, pale, yet eagerly bright form with a full grin constantly adorning his cheery demeanor. He is spotted in freckles that seem to appear as if from nowhere. It takes a full on observer, glancing past the goofy smile and blotches as numerous as the stars, to notice the missing canine. A single, thin scar traces from his left brow to his jaw, which is easily hidden by his radiant(as false as it can seem) glow. Shaggy, chocolate stained hair travels to his ears, where a gentle curl bounces with each strand. Eyes that were once hazel have now been tinted purple, although it appears in splotches.


Wyn’s form itself is rather slim, little fat or muscle clinging to his form. He is not particularly gaunt, but there is evidence at one point or another that malnutrition had come severely into place. Currently Wyn contains a healthy glow and the faintest traces of muscle along his forearms and legs. A gentle chub bounces at his cheeks, but beyond this outlier, nothing quite decorates him in such a way anywhere else. Red and purple splotches adorn his torso, but mainly remain hidden by his attire that tends to cloak a majority of his body, save for his beaming demeanor. He does not recall where the apparent scars and burns have appeared from, but he assumes its from his own clumsiness, and prefers to keep them safely hidden.


mental


To describe Wyn in the turning gears of his overworked mind would take the ramblings of a mad man. Wyn on the exterior is a ball of sunshine with a constant positivity outlined on his features. You need a friend to smuggle in midnight snacks after a hard day on the penniless streets? Perhaps an hour long snuggle puddle that ends with two of the victims(friends) without feeling in their legs? Wyn is the man to go to, and while he may present a constant aura of excitement and hope, there is an underlying anxiety that nips at his conscience. Despite the jovial attitude, he can be rather timid and refuses to get into too much trouble. Wyn typically would prefer to defend others, rather than his own individual beliefs. Wyn is wise enough to know when to keep his mouth shut and simply agree with what others have to say. He does not tend to lose control easily, but can be pushed to a breaking point after keeping quiet for a long period of time. Wyn tends to hold on to emotions for longer than medically recommended(at least what Aunt Riri used to say), and can outlash if pushed hard enough. Wyn is not terribly confident with himself, and can get fidgety when nervous or scared. Do not expect him to face a challenge head on unless he is given motivation through loved ones or pure acts of desperation. Once bonded to you(after hours of awkward puns and even more awkward finger guns), Wyn remains loyal and absolutely radiant. He is quick to forgive and terribly naive, assuming only the best in people until proven the worst.


Beyond the nativity and innocent nature, Wyn can present suspicion and prejudice depending on certain appearances and relations to other individuals. He has found himself wrong on several occasions, which he grows ecstatic over, but his initial instinct is the one that tends to make a lasting impression. If he senses there's a possibility for a hostile interaction, he knows better than to interact. Wyn can be observant about certain traits, picking random details that may benefit aspects of survival later on. Even if it’s the color of someone’s earrings that day, he’ll store little tidbits here and there. Wyn tends to recall certain memories of randomness as well, but will forget certain things he had been informed of minutes ago. He is an excellent listener, however, but his mental wiring is on constant overdrive, causing his train of thought to extend a healthy limit of tangents(damn triangular nonsense). With great focus and great determination, however, Wyn can pull off a remarkable retelling of an event(with only a few tidbits missing and a few details about murderous rodents in the mix).


Wyn does indeed have his head in the sky, but his priorities remain down to earth.



backstory


Tallowyn was a miracle in the dusty hovel his mother and several of her sisters resided within. Having been doomed with a lingering fear of a barren womb from years of malnutrition, Tallowyn’s mother was granted a chance from a local factory worker. The two did not speak again after Tallowyn’s conception, and despite several protests from her sisters to abandon the child, Tallowyn would be happily raised by his mother, despite their less than ideal situation. The child however would not be well received by the remainder of his aunts, claiming that the majority of their scarce resources had gone to his survival rather than their own.


In response, Tallowyn’s mother left the small, cramped home, finding residence on her own, her main priority being her child. His mother would occasionally leave him with workers that lived nearby as she scrapped the streets, completing different types of work, no matter how bizarre or questionable in ethics. Wyn was happily brought up, despite the constant shuffle between him, his mother and neighbors, and would receive nothing but love from the woman. However, as Wyn approached adulthood, his mother would contract an illness that took her unexpectedly one night, leaving Wyn alone and confused as to what to do next. None of the neighbors wished to take it upon themselves to raise the recently orphaned boy, despite his several offers of work and attempts of nourishment for the younger children that lived nearby.


Distraught and uncertain, Wyn would realize his mother had contacted her sister shortly before her demise in a desperate attempt to scrape her child off the streets. Wyn’s aunt only agreed to adopt him two weeks after the death, raising him to a lifestyle Wyn never thought possible. Wyn’s aunt, a popular street worker by the nickname of Riri, had become involved in an illicit affair with an elite man and easily clawed her ways into a comfortable style of living. Wyn was placed into a cozy apartment, was bought whatever could keep his rambling little mouth shut, but still couldn’t shake away the horrid feeling something was horribly wrong in his new state of being.


He could never determine if it was the grief that caused minor blackouts to occur, where hours upon hours became forgotten in the little apartment. Bruises were typical, as well as scratches and minor beads of blood. He had always figured clumsiness played a heavy role and never expressed emotion of distrust towards his fellow inmates of the highlife prison. He had not even realized his own ability until far into his seeming captivity, having survived a fall down a flight of stairs with his skull thick and branded, his arms coated in what Wyn could only describe as metallic skin. Wyn was confused by both this newfound ability and his journey to get there, but all he knew was that the next day his ability appeared appear and reappear as his body saw fit.


Pleased with the outcome of having an added protection, Wyn continued life as normal, until a very similar and bizarre incident occurred to his risque aunt. From what Wyn could recall, the woman had lost her footing over the rail of their apartment to plummet to the street below, having fractured her skull upon impact. Events blurred after this particular incident, Wyn whisked off to another one of the elite’s lovers apartment to assist with her newborn child. Wyn graciously escaped the life of his little prison tower, praying that Sanctuary provided a home away from home that he had been craving.






Rapid Adaptation



Glow:Dark Purple, Hex Code: #9933FF


Description: Wyn’s abilities revolve around rapid adaptation. On a cellular level, Wyn’s DNA structure is constantly shifting to benefit his needs at the time. Rather than adapting and mutating over generations at a time, Wyn is able to activate segments in his DNA that had been cut out over generations. Wyn is able to go beyond segments, commonly known as jumping genes, which can be activated or deactivated as Wyn’s body requires such. Wyn is not in control of which gene is activated, nor is he in control of when it occurs. It takes time for the activation to occur as well, which can be in the range of one to five minutes for each cell to rapidly adapt and modify Wyn’s anatomy to survive his environment The activation occurs majorly in situations of high stress as endorphins and adrenaline are released. Wyn’s abilities do not last longer, either, and typically deactivate one to five minutes after the initial rush.




Limits:Modifications in Wyn’s rapid adaptation include but are not limited to thickening of skin, strengthening of the skeletal structure, temporary growth of gills, elasticity of the skin, increase in endurance, etc. Wyn’s adaptations come with harm to the man as well, as several of these adaptations tend to cause migraines, nosebleeds, and a variety of internal problems. Joint irritation, lightheadedness, and dizziness are common. Wyn’s adaptations can increase in speed depending on the level of stress, which causes these symptoms to be far more common. Once an adaptation has occurred prior, it becomes easier for Wyn to adapt in the same way again. Less time, less hassle physically.




Technological Augmentations



Endorphin Regulator - Wyn has a small, triangular plate embedded into his forearm that dictates release in endorphins and adrenaline. The regulator can control his irritability if anxious, or increase the output in the case of high stress for a successful adaptation. Wyn uses it sparingly.


Jukebox - Shaped bizarrely in the spirit of an old style jukebox, this plate rests against Wyn’s wrist and is able to record and play audio recordings. Two small buttons reside on the plate, one to play and one to record. Currently, Wyn has recorded five songs, and can hold up to three more audio recordings on his person.


Minor Illusion - Wyn is able to project a small illusion to benefit his needs. Embedded into his right wrist, Wyn is able to make small items, produce color, or present different clothing with this augmentation, but the projections are hazy, at best. Typically he attempts to conduct this like a magic trick, even if the illusions are mediocre.




 




Mazryn “Maz” Faor
age: 25

Sex: Female

date of birth: December 1st

class:
(upper or lower) Upper



physical


sanctuary.jpg

Height: 5’10


Weight: 170 lbs


Written Appearance: Mazryn has a generally strong and sturdy build that might even be considered imposing, if she weren’t prone to a habit of understating it. She has a tall stature with wide shoulders and strong cords of muscle in her limbs, with a bit more softness around her hips. While her stature is objectively imposing, Maz has a tendency to downplay it. This is frequently due to her appearance including a face that’s said to be open, friendly, or at the very least, not intensely hostile.


She currently has her inky black hair buzzed short, with tight curls coiled close to her scalp. Her round eyes are the same shade, appearing to store an abyss behind them, and her skin a lighter but still rich umber hue. Her face also sports a few piercings, namely the one just above her lips and the one piercing on the side of her nose. A few more rings and studs decorate her ears


Her clothes are not quite form-fitting, but they are also not baggy. While concealing some of her fit physique, she makes sure not to be swallowed whole in them. Generally simplistic but stylish suits her needs. Ultimately, her style represents much of the pragmatic and utilitarian elegance in the rest of her appearance.

mental


Generally quiet but hardly subdued, Maz is rarely the life of the party. Her temperament could potentially be summed up as her being a “strong silent type.” She’s not much of a talker in situations she’s not familiar with, and especially not with people she’s not familiar with. She’s worked to keep her responses from being clipped or too short, though occasionally she reverts back to this when uncomfortable, anxious, or distracted.


Despite her initially reserved appearance, she is a lot more personable with those she’s come to know. Even with those she’s not quite as familiar with, if she’s approached first, she’s quite friendly. She’s generally quite relaxed and laid back, with a skill for being highly adaptable when it comes to what is thrown at her. She’s able to think on her feet, even though that occasionally comes with a few seconds of panicked delay before she launches into action again. Only assertive and portraying leadership qualities when such a position is thrust upon her, she fairs relatively well. The time spent listening to others and learning them allows her the chance to make use of her ability to adapt while extending her flexibility to others. Of course, this is under optimal conditions, and Maz has no intention of volunteering herself for such a thing if given the choice.


Some would be surprised to learn what habits Maz has, while others would claim it’s these habits that allow her to be so calm in the first place, by burning off her more anxious and rambunctious energy. Regardless, she has a tendency towards casual spontaneity, risk-taking, and what could very well be the beginnings of an addictive personality. She has a smoking habit she’d be the first to admit that she needs to kick, and she probably puts herself and safety on the line far more often than she should.


Regardless, with a quirky and occasionally wry sort of humor, Maz is a loyal ride-or-die friend. If there’s anyone you want to have your back in a fight, it’s her.





backstory


Mazryn had a comfortable upbringing with little in the means of strife or struggle. Born to a pair of influential Upper Class parents, she had much of the world of her fingertips. Luckily, she did her best not to squander it. Eternally curious and eager to learn, she devoured whatever information she could get her hands on. As she grew older, she sought out more information and new experiences.


It was this that first began her thrill-seeking in the digital world of VR. It began simply enough, merely exploring online worlds. Then she started trying to find the harder to reach places, the dangerous quests, in order to find and do more. In time, she even found herself in combat games and arenas, learning to make the most of what she had available. She learned how to fight and disarm, strategize and adapt, to make the split second decisions that made her quite the opponent at the height of her VR career in her teens.


In time, however, even this proved to not be quite enough. There was still a sort of barrier between her and the risks she took. Even with the implant that made each experience as lifelike as possible, there was still the slightest disconnect from putting herself in real danger, or even putting the practical applications of what she had learned and come to know to use. So, she ended up withdrawing from VR entirely, focusing her thrill-seeking on the world that was not so digital. She took up free-running and even used physical exercise as an outlet for her focus, which has admittedly made her a touch strange in the Upper Class, to put the kind of work she did into her own strength and physical ability when she had so much luxury available to her. Little did they know that Maz had a penchant for wanting to challenge herself.


While she withdrew from VR and began to focus on her life outside of it, her parents found themselves drowning in non-digital problems they couldn’t escape from. Sympathetic to the plight of the lower class of Takym, they’d attempted to put their influence to the test. Their efforts backfired horribly. In an escalating series of events, much of their influence was lost, their business began to wither and die, and a hit was even attempted on both of Maz’s parents all in the time of a few months.


The invitation to go to Sanctuary was a blessing, and the escape her parents had hoped for her. Maz was shooed to the Sanctuary, where they hoped she would be safe and far enough removed from her parents’ crumbling status and reputations.


Extra: She wears a necklace with beads made out of several types of stone and metal, which she uses as an aid for her ability.








Inorganic Mimicry



Glow: Orange (FF5500)


Description: Activated by touch, Mazryn is able to shift her form into an inorganic material of her choosing, so long as it is available. She frequently uses this to create a thick dermal armor around herself, granting her body the material’s properties so long as she has the armor. As such, she is often much stronger and more durable when using her powers in this way. Conversely, if she were to touch something more malleable, or even after inhaling smoke, she could turn into that material to get into hard to reach places. She also has a limited manipulation over what material she turns into, potentially breaking of protrusions of the material for projectiles, or manipulating what is at her fingertips to make tools.




Limits: She’s only able to shift into what she has touched. If she’s never come into contact with a material, she can’t shift into it. She can also only turn into what she has last touched. If she touched a rock two weeks ago or even two minutes ago, if it wasn’t the last thing she touched, she can’t turn into it. Her ability’s memory only lasts 2 hours before she is unable to shift into it. The actual length of time she can use hold a form in one sitting is about thirty minutes, but each bit of damage it takes can potentially weaken it and how long she can keep it up. While able to have limited manipulation over the material she makes armor out of, it is at the expense of the strength and lasting effect of said armor. If she uses many projectiles, she runs the risk of paper thin armor or even being forced to shift out of that armor.




Technological Augmentations



Stabilizers: She has a series of implants along her spine which branch out from them with small ports in her back. These are stabilizers that ensure she doesn’t randomly start switching forms without her meaning to, as well as maintaining her original humanoid form instead of a pile of sludge after a series of rapid shifts. This also helps the durability of her armors and various states, by keeping her stabilized.


Nanites: Implanted originally for the purpose of knitting her wounds when in inorganic forms, they also offer limited healing to her when in her usual form. They stitch shut the wounds and damage she receives with the armor. As a result, they can also heal her at a rate of about 30% faster. A wound that would usually heal in 3 weeks can now heal in one. However, these are not very fast reacting when it comes to healing her organic form. If grievously injured, her nanites cannot work fast enough to save her, and even other relatively minor wounds likely need to be addressed because her healing is not instantaneous.