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#242424 Dragovich Asgar Vollrath
Nickname: Drago
Codename: Sunder
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Human? (Reincarnation of Fenrir)
Division: Department of Defense
Rank: Junior agent
Clearance Level: Level 2


APPEARANCE & OTHER FORMS
Full image: https://i.imgur.com/SZUJGaN.jpg
Spooky, scary, not very different, made basic bitch edits in paint, using his powers look: https://i.imgur.com/a9IfUjU.jpg

Dragovich stands at an impressive six foot and eight inches tall, weighing in at approximately two hundred and forty pounds of almost all muscle. That being said he naturally tends to cut a rather imposing figure with mere stature alone, combine this with his military perfect posture and his his penchant for wearing dark colors he can be quite intimidating to look at. More often than not he has his a majority of his skin covered. He goes out of his way to cover the uncanny amount of scars that mar his flesh so most individuals will only ever see him all wrapped up in one way or another no matter the temperature. In particular he has a rather nasty scar on his face, the likes of which extends from the corner of his mouth to the far edge of the left side of his face. The half done glasgow smile isn't the only thing that is hidden from the naked eye either.

Though his picture doesn't show it, his left eye and his right arm are vastly different from what they appear. Hidden by an illusion cast by his closest companion are the true appearances of his arm and eye. If ever the illusion should fail it would be clear his arm and his eye are in essence phantasmal body parts formed of a blackish red energy, sadly his powers tend to dampen the illusion when in use so there's that. Another interesting tidbit regarding this illusion is that it is also at work on his tongue, for it is also a phantom limb as the result of a rather extreme disciplinary measure from his mercenary days.

His hair is a shade of carmine red and his eyes are of an intense amber variety. As far as his attire will go he likely wears scarves, boots, form fitting uniforms, flowing coats, and a hell of a lot of long sleeves, all of which come in black or equally dark colors as mentioned before.


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Dragovich is a man of many, seemingly paradoxical extremes. While on the outside he seems austere and impassive he's actually quite an impassioned individual. He feels things deeply despite doing his absolute best to bury it where no one can see it. Combine that with the particularly hard life he's lived and you get his currently cynical self, rife with a profound penchant for holding grudges. He has a rather explosive temper once pressed in just the right places. Dragovich is also known to be prone to severely neurotic tendencies. He also has fits of incredibly destructive and at times violent impulses that take a great deal of willpower to overcome. What's more is that impressions left on him from his past life seem to have further reinforced these characteristics, making them far more intense and deeply rooted than some would expect.

On the brighter side of things Dragovich is a fiercely loyal companion once he feels he can trust someone. He cares deeply for the very few friends he makes and will actively do all he can to shield them from harm, or should it be necessary, deliver a swift and brutal reprisal to any aggressor. Unfortunately his protective nature and lack of self worth make him too self sacrificing for that select few. Despite his caring nature for those he feels close to he still has a hard time breaking away from his reticent ways. Never wanting to burden others with his own problems even if they're far too big for one person. Dragovich being a particularly willful individual has a rather interesting mixture of tenacity and stubbornness about him.

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HISTORY TO CURRENT
The history of Dragovich begins where the life of Fenrir one of the many children of the trickster god Loki ends. Fenrir as the stories tell us was prophesied by the gods to grow and grow and one day devour the heavens and so they tricked the great beast into allowing them to fetter him under mountain, where he would struggle against his bindings until such a time that he would break free and the end of days would begin. Most of this was true of course, the only detail that was wrong was that Fenrir after innumerable years trapped under the mountain lost all hope of escaping and gave up. In his despair Ragnarok never came and instead he stewed in his hatred and grief for what seemed like an eternity.

After some time an unnamed being found its way to where Fenrir was bound and in an act of mercy released his soul from his body and freed him from what might have been an eternal imprisonment. Little did anyone know that the soul of Fenrir would one day resurface with all its might and ire, not as another beast but as a human being. As fate would have it that human was one Dragovich Vollrath, born in Germany to a family that would continue to grow over the next few years, until such a time that he was the eldest of four. Drago was the child of a smuggler and a drug dealer and as such had a rather rough upbringing. Despite their lines of work it seemed his parents weren't making enough to make ends meet and so they lived in poverty.

Because of this he would eventually be forced to partake of the family's unsavory business at the right bold age of thirteen. It worked well enough, few had expected a teenage boy and his younger siblings to secretly be running drugs all over town for their parents. It was while he was making a delivery one day the he and his siblings were confronted by a small group of strangers. Unbeknownst to him, their activity had been watched for several weeks now and now they were in serious danger. Drago at the time figured it had something to do with the drugs and attempted to bargain for their safety with it but they were set upon anyway. given his latent supernatural power Dragovich managed to put up a startling fight for a teenager, enough to buy his little sisters and brother time to flee, but he was not as lucky.

The strangers overwhelmed him and easily knocked him unconscious, when he woke up he wasn't in Germany anymore. He'd been transported over one of the borders and brought into the Czech Republic, the likes of which had long since come under the rule of a militant group whose name roughly translates to The Red Tide. It was there he was drafted into their army, and it was their he would spend the next seven years of his life. His first year was incredibly harsh, the basic training phase of the Tide's prospective soldiers was a brutal one that not everyone would make it through. However being the willful individual he was, he couldn't help but resist his superiors at every turn, speaking out of line and generally being insubordinate. This earned him a reputation among the commanding officers and their much unwanted attention. The major leaders took it upon themselves to make an example out of him and to regularly abuse him when ever they had a chance. By the time Dragovich was ready for the next phase of his training he had become the "favourite" among his sadistic superiors.

(A crash course in the Tide's general structure:
In short the Red Tide is a militant group that has three primary parts all run by their respective commanders, one of which also oversees the Red Tide as a whole. The Red Tide also secretly makes use of supernatural abilities, often going out of their way to tease out such gifts from their soldiers in the recruitment phase.

The Branches are as follows:

Blue Banner: The blue banner is the smallest division but likely one of the most important ones. It is comprised of the most intellectually impressive soldiers of the tide, most of if not all of which are trained in some variety of magic or at least technological know-how. It's members make up the majority of squad leaders and tacticians while also making use of their more destructive magics to double as living artillery. They are lead by High Commander Dietrich Crowley, a powerful warlock and the leader of the Red Tide as a whole.

Red Banner: The red banner is the second largest division, being comprised of a mixture of both supernatural and mundane soldiers. Those filtered into this unit lack psychic or magic powers and as such are taught to harness the powers of Noght by it's sadistc inhuman leader Helena Bathory. Not everyone is capable of using Noght and so those that cannot be taught to do this are placed into a secondary division of heavy infantry. Those that can use Noght go through extreme physical and mental conditioning to become formidable shock troops.

Yellow Banner: The yellow banner is the largest division comprised partially of individuals gifted with psychic abilities and those that do not meet criteria to qualify for entry into the other two branches. It is overseen by one Ignacious Brenen a cruel psychic with a penchant for verbally and occasionally physically abusing his troops. The yellow banner makes up a bulk of the Red Tide's army and as such it's soldiers have a wide range of functions and roles that they can fill.
)

Dragovich was screened for supernatural capabilities to see where he would end up. Given his lack of psychic or magical abilities and his impressive physical prowess he was set to become part of what they called the red banner. The red banner can be best described as a unit of particularly durable shock troupers trained in the use of an ability called Noght. Unfortunately for him this meant he was in for the most extreme mental and physical strain of his life as the training regimen for these individuals was meant to be as dehumanizing as it was meant to hone their skill. To make matters worse the commanding officer for the red banner was and still is a vile inhuman woman with a profoundly sadistic nature. Bathory was among the many officers that had come to appreciate picking on Dragovich and so she continued to do so while he was training for entry into her unit.

Another year ticks by and soon enough Dragovich is a full fledged red banner soldier and is far worse for wear than before. Over the course of the next two years he spends most of his days either on guard duty, being poked and prodded by researchers in the magical blue banner division, or getting himself into trouble earning more and more severe punishments. Eventually the punishments carried out by Bathory began to devolve into extreme violence and literal torture, all considered justified given the abilities afforded to a user of Noght. After a time, despite all his infraction Drago is inexplicably promoted and provided with a special sword that he would inevitable become attached to for reasons not even he understood. More time ticks by and soon enough it's been five years that Dragovich had been part of the Red Tide. It was about that time he attempted his first escape, it failed spectacularly and so he was dragged right back to Bathory, kicking and screaming all the way.

As punishment for his attempted escape and the following insubordinate back talk he was punished far more severely than he'd previously been. In both anger and sadistic glee the monster named Bathory gave Dragovich half a glasgow smile and cut out his tongue on top of that. This violent act left him permanently scarred in more ways than one, his only solace begin that the powers of Noght would save him from death and being rendered mute. Following this incident Drago's insubordinate ways would wane for several months, during which he would eventually be transferred to a special division of the Tide's soldiers to act as a kind of secret police in charge of handling work they publicly could not. Once Drago was toward the tail end of his sixth year of his stay within the regime he'd gone back to his usual disorderly conduct and rather than being punished with more violence, his superiors had begun trying to use incarceration and isolation as a method of establishing control. It was here he was introduced to the bane of both his past and his current life, the age old fetter known as Gleipnir, the every same one used to bind Fenirr to the earth.

This method seemed effective at first but ultimately caused more severe episodes of rebellious behavior when he was allowed his freedom. It was during this period of extreme resistance and subsequently more extreme punishments he came into contact with an individual who would later become his closest and most treasured ally in this world, Sibylla Anastacia. Dragovich had been wary of her at first but seeing as how she'd proven to be far more personable than the other mages he'd encountered he began to enjoy their few meetings. They shared some brief conversations between the bars of the prison cells, and so Drago slowly but surely came to see Sibylla as a friend. Eventually the time would come to try and escape yet again and right at the border he was caught, brought back and maimed even further. Bathory took one of his eyes and one of his arms, full well knowing he'd be able to recover from it.

After his punishment Dragovich was once again imprisoned and bound by Gleipnir in his usual cell, where he would wait his will finally reaching a breaking point. Just as Fenrir before him had lost hope he too was beginning to lose the will to continue on. Then during a particularly nasty storm someone caused quite the commotion, and he would soon find that his friend from between the bars Sibylla had begun an escape attempt of her own and had come to help him as well. It was on that day that he began to develop an array of feelings for her that would later continue to grow, they however had to get out of the Red Tide's iron grip first.

And so with a few complications Dragovich was released from his bindings, though he made it a point to take them with him to be disposed of in a river later. Under cover of the storm the pair of them made their way out of Czechia, dodging the Tide's patrol at every turn. Eventually they made it back into Germany where they went in search of Dragovich's family, unfortunately they were long gone and he had no idea where they had disappeared to. Ultimately he figured it for the best, seven years later and he was liable not to have even been recognized.

It wasn't too long afterwards that Dragovich and Sibylla were approached by Invictus. They had been approached on decently peaceful terms but tensions were high and Dragovich in particular was paranoid and desperate. Things teetered on getting ugly as Drago grew steadily more hostile with the agents, but Sibylla managed to talk him down. Drago took a proverbial leap of faith and backed down, thus beginning his involvement with Invictus. They spent some time in the German branch and were eventually shipped off to the Manchester branch to investigate the strange nature of Dragovich's powers, more specifically having to do with the nature of his soul. Unfortunately situations developing at the Manchester branch proved to be inhospitable to study at the time and Dragovich was once again transferred. This he was sent to the Texas branch where hopefully it would be easier to figure out what was going on with Dragovich. Throughout all of this Drago was happy to find that his only real companion in his world Sibylla would stick with him. Which is a good thing too since Drago is often times difficult with Invictus and having someone he trusts nearby to help smooth that over proved to be a good thing for everyone.



EXTRA INFO

Here's some trivia for ya
- Drago's hobbies include: exercise in various forms especially weight lifting and swimming, target practice with the heavy guns at the range, dismantling mechanical things, car repair and driving, baking , and though he'd never admit it he dabbles in poetry.
- Drago has reading glasses though he tries not to wear them all that often.
- He's left handed
- Drago has a case of D.I.D. comorbid with PTSD
- He also suffers from insomnia and when he does sleep he has occasional night terrors
- He's on medications for some of his issues but he frequently "forgets" to take them.
- Speaks German, Czech, a few phrases and words in Icelandic , and a rather accented English
- Is in a romantic relationship with Sibylla Anastacia


WEAPONS & ABILITIES

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- Bergentrückung: Is an extremely heavy greatsword close to the size of Dragovich himself that is magical in nature. Being made of Fenrir's own bones has made this weapon damn near unbreakable and exceptionally sharp. It has also bonded with Drago on account of his soul and thus cannot by any means bring harm to him, were he struck with it nothing would happen, not even blunt force trauma. The sword also seems to have a will of its own and it refuses to be separated from its owner or used by anyone else. It will not only mysteriously teleport back to him should it go missing for long, it will also lash out and attempt to seriously harm anyone who touches it without permission by way of a viscous spiritual assault on the transgressor. Wounds caused by this weapon seem to have a great deal of trouble healing in a timely manner, often slowing the body's healing down for roughly an hour before returning to normal.

- Suyanta: A martial art taught to many of the Red Banner soldiers that when used in tandem with Noght is capable of harming an opponent on both a physical and spiritual level. It seems to be a modified much more aggressive derivative of Tai Chi.

- Machine gun: Drago has a fondness for heavier firearms and typically can be seen with the era's equivalent of a PKM which is a type of general purpose machine gun that he has added some personal touches to.​
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ABILITIES

Ability Name: Fenrisúlfr 's Legacy
Description: Harboring the souls of the ancient great wolf has granted Drago the same power that was once within Fenrir. The most notable of changes being the great deal of improvements to his physique and potential for growth. Despite what his body would imply he's a lot stronger and sturdier than he already looks. Additionally he will one day begin to cease aging entirely. With supernatural strength and vigor also come complications as he suffers from complications outlined below.
Strengths: Supernatural physique, strength, and vigor. Gradually improves in these aspects over time.
Weaknesses: Suffers from periodic growing pains that can range from mildly annoying to totally debilitating (though he physically doesn't grow much in the process), doesn't have complete control over his strength and runs the risk of breaking things or seriously hurting people if he isn't careful, his body is particularly resistant to sedatives and other medications.

Ability Name: Noght
Description: Noght at its core is a force opposed to all the principles of existence, something foreign to the world and the essence of the vital flow that life represents. It is even beyond the emptiness: an absolute nothing that denies and devours reality itself. Training in the use of Noght allows the user to manipulate this forces of apathy, emptiness, and nothingness as a weapon but primarily as a powerful form of defense. Noght allows the user access to a small arsenal of powers that center around debilitating foes and bolstering the user, all the facets of which come with their own specific pros and cons as follows:

Sub-Ability Name: Nihil
Description: Nihil is the name of a technique that is core to the application of Noght. By coalescing the emptiness around themselves the user of this technique can create a kind of armor around their body. The armor neutralizes or at least reduces the effects and impacts of attacks and the like directed at the user be they supernatural or otherwise. Sufficiently powerful attacks can weaken and breach the armor but not without having part of their over all potential eaten away at.
Strengths: The armor is invisible and takes rather significant abuse from outside forces, it is particularly useful for combating supernatural attacks like for example psychic blasts or magical fire balls. It also provides protection from physical attacks as well.
Weaknesses: The ability cannot differentiate between friendly or hostile and therefore while using this power he cannot be aided by his allies by supernatural means. While the armor can take a serious beating too much of one will cause it to fail, during such a time the armor will be unavailable for a few minutes.

Sub-Ability Name: Dead Zone
Description: This ability allows the user to externalize an aura of emptiness, creating an existential cold around himself that affects all who come near him. The glacial chill is not a literal drop in temperature but rather something spiritual that eats at the very soul and mere existence of those within. This zone cause those within to lose focus of their goals, corrodes their will, and brings their movements within down to a crawl (like moving through really thick subzero gelatin), extends up to 30 feet from the target and gets more intense the closer one gets to the center.
Strengths: The user is immune to the aura's effects, the aura significantly slows enemies, it gradually eats away at concentration making enemies more prone to mistakes, it also wears down the morale of those affected over time.
Weaknesses: The aura is ineffective against long distance combatants and while the user is immune to the effects, his allies would still be impaired since he cannot pick and choose targets.

Sub-Ability Name: One With The Nothing
Description: As a final step, the body of the character completely fuses with the energy of Noght, causing the emptiness and his physical form to be a single one. Consequently, he finds himself beyond bodily pain and most physical damage; no matter the type of wounds that he might suffer, his energy will always maintain its original form. Therefore, if the character receives a wound that mutilates his arm, Noght will keep what is left of it attached. Even if the damage is so serious that the extremity is amputated, one of pure energy will form that will work exactly like the original one. Theoretically, with this ability the user can survive while he has his head and a few vital organs left. It does however cause the body's natural healing factors to come close to a stand still and therefore his body is unable to repair damage done by normal means.
Strengths: this ability significantly increases his ability to tolerate physical pain and his ability to take large amounts of bodily harm, cannot be dismembered or bleed out
Weaknesses: has no effect on pain caused by supernatural effects or mental or spiritual damage , his body cannot repair itself through natural means, while he is extra durable he is still susceptible to his heart, lungs, and brain being damaged or destroyed.

Sub-Ability Name: Abstruse
Description: This ability put simply makes the user difficult to read, contact, or locate via supernatural means. Being as surrounded by the nothingness has a way of suppressing their presence and for lack of a better word jam their signal. Typically the ability doesn't completely hide the user or make them unreachable, it merely muddles things and makes it rather difficult to pick up on things from them, effectively giving vague approximations that can scarcely be seen as accurate.
Strengths: Makes it easier for the user to conceal themselves on stealth missions and hide their intentions from enemies during interrogations
Weaknesses: makes it difficult for allies to locate the user in the event of capture, also complicates the potential for communication among some of his peers, and lastly the ability it self could be thwarted by a particularly powerful or determined individual.

Sub-Ability Name: Emptiness Extrusion
Description: Through this ability one exudes an aura of nothingness that coats their body and weapons, this way it is possible for the user to physically touch energy and and interact with usually immaterial things such as spirits and the like. It allows the user more easily penetrate modern conventional defenses with both melee and ranged weaponry, effectively making it possible to punch through things like Kevlar or metal combat armor. Damage caused by this ability leaves wounds that are cold to the touch and particularly painful, along with having the nasty side effect of sapping away at the individual's very spirit. Supernatural defenses are still as effective as normal against this method of attack and this ability cannot help but be lethal and therefore is strictly prohibited in any mission where killing the targets is not an option.
Strengths: cuts through armor, can interact with energy and the ethereal, damages more than just the physical body
Weaknesses: supernatural defenses like magic barriers can stand up to this ability just fine, this ability cannot be used to non-lethally subdue a target.



(you can add more abilities using the same structure above)
 
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#242424 Eliza Moira Bitter
Nickname: Eliza, Liza ("If yer too fockin lazy to pronounce the fockin e")
Codename: Wormwood
Age: 24
Gender: female
Race: 100% human
Division: fieldwork
Rank: new recruits
Clearance Level:level 2


APPEARANCE & OTHER FORMS
Full size image: https://i.imgur.com/J6C75y5.jpg

Eliza is a smaller woman standing at roughly five feet and two inches tall, maybe even a little bit under that. Eliza is lithe and of a rather fair complexion. With blonde hair and hazel eyes she can appear rather delicate but in all actuality she's far more gruff than one might glean at a glance. Despite being mostly adjusted to the new era she has found herself in she still tries to dress in the fashion of the past. That being said she tends to wear very conservative clothing that can prove to be comfortable and combat savvy. "Can't kill demons if yer fockin arse is hangin out. "


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More Specifically:
+ Motivated: If one thing is certain about Eliza it's that she's a determined individual on a mission. Once she get started on something it'd take the world and then some to put her down and make her give up. She's not inflexible in her endeavors but her desire to get things done will keep her on track to her goal.
+ Generous: Despite her usually unfriendly disposition and her biting commentary she has a heart of gold deep down. Eliza is a sucker for a sob story, provided it stands up to reason, and can't help her self but to try and do the right thing for people. Even if it means making sacrifices she genuinely seeks to do good in the world.
+ Candid: While she doesn't exactly wear her heart on her sleeve, Eliza tends to be rather honest and upfront in just about all of her endeavors. Eliza is nice deep down but she won't sugar coat anything for anybody, she views it as pointless and damaging. So if you need someone to be honest with you on something she's your gal, but remember you might not like what you hear.

0 Conservative:Just because she's starting to adapt to the new time period doesn't mean she's lost the prudent nature of the 19th century. Eliza isn't one for modern fashion or how people tend to conduct themselves. Outside of swearing she tends to see more modern sensibilities as being as a fair bit too ripe for her.
0 Proud: Possibly one of her more potent traits is Eliza's pride. Her hubris knows very few bounds and she doesn't take kindly to having this sense of self worth put in question. Even if her life is on the line one can expect her to hold her head high and deny being coddled like a child. Her dignity is everything to her, second to none on her ever shortening list of priorities.
0 Asocial: Plainly put Eliza isn't very friendly to about eighty five percent of people she encounters regularly. Very few enjoy an sort of warmth from her and even then it might be described as tepid at best. That being said she typically refrains from socializing all that much.

- Bellicose: Possibly her second greatest feature is her sheer aggressive nature. Eliza is always ready for a confrontation and she sure as hell isn't quite about it. Therefore she often laces her speech with copious amounts of insults and threeats. She's loud and proud and ready to kcik someone's ass if they so much as look at her the wrong way, especially if they're, "some fockin' inhuman gobshite!"
- Prejudice: Having been brought up in an era and a society not exactly keen on folks being of an unnatural persuasion Eliza has developed a not so subtle hatred for anything that isn't a human. Specific breeds of as she calls them "unholy abominations." She doesn't have any issues with her fellow humans but boy howdy does she have it out for everyone else. This of course makes her job a lot more difficult seeing as how back in her day they used to kill the supernatural not make friends and work with them. That being said if they're old enough some of the supernaturals today might recognize her if they hung around London at the time.
- Stubborn: While its not impossible to get her to change her ways, Eliza is as stubborn as they come. Set in her ways can sometimes seems like an understatement. People have to practically beat new ideas into her to get her to at least try to look at things from a different angle.

Generally: Prideful, plucky, and generally miffed are just some of the many names Eliza has been called. They're also among the more...kosher words people have used. Generally she's a pleasant lass if you enjoy someone with a bit of an edge to their voice no matter the situation or you fancy bein' scowled at, perhaps even staring down the barrel of a gun. One thing is for sure she's the type to have her head held high no matter what and typically wont accept anyone's aide willingly. Some would say she's rather spirited and stubborn, she prefers to call it survival instinct as she is the sort of person to more often than not, stare death in the face and mange to walk away mostly intact. Eliza's number one flaw, according to some people, is her rather short temper. She's dealt with a lot of bullshit in her life and so she's had to toughen up and learn how to deal with it. As it turns out this means being angry and reacting as explosively as possible when shit goes down. It's worked thus far so why change? For the most part this is really only about 60% of her personality but she rarely gets a chance to put her guard down and relax. As much as she would love to just sit quietly and enjoy the company of others , she's been roped into a shit-storm that requires lots of yelling and bullets. This mess has been something she has had to deal with her whole life and now that her sister has been murdered and she's been pulled into a practically different world, she's turned the rage meter up to 11 and everything looks like it could do with a bullet hole or two. .​
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HISTORY TO CURRENT
Eliza was born in the 1820's in the lands of Northern Ireland. She grew up along side many siblings, her being the youngest of the bunch along side her twin sister, Aileen. From a young age she was exposed to a different world from your standard folks in that day and age. The Bitter family was one of a few to be part of an at the time, sacred organization of the Protestant faith, under the jurisdiction of the Anglican church. This organization had many names but she had always known it as The Order of the Seraphic Vigil. Her parents as well as her older siblings were soldiers of a kind, holy knights that under cover of darkness cleansed the streets of that which went bump in the night. Be it a vampire, lycanthrope, demon, or some magical nutter in a robe they were there to stop them. That being said Eliza was exposed to the supernatural since she was very young and like all who had come before her was groomed to be able to enter combat with such things and hopefully come out alive.

She grew up learning about the super natural, specifically the creatures and how to effectively slay them. Know thy enemy, became a phrase she held near and dear to her heart. As she grew older the lesson soon went from mere theory to live practice. Combatives and weapons training became key. Eliza was seventeen when her family deemed both her and her sister ready to officially join the order. To be inducted into the order they would need to partake of an important ceremony in the birthplace of the organization. So Eliza and her sister were shipped off to London, England to partake in the ceremony and hopefully emerge proud defenders of the people.

They arrived and went through the induction process and became a force to be reckoned with, twin huntresses of the vigil assigned to protecting the denizens of the city of London. With the aide of her sister, Eliza eked out a place in the order as possibly one of the most brutally effective but perhaps the most crude of the vigil's hunters. With her years of building up her reputation for getting the job done, it came as no surprise when Eliza received orders to dispatch a cult that had weaseled its way into the heart of London. The cult as it happened was on the verge of summoning something particularly vile and so they had to be dealt with. Eliza and her sister formed a plan, they let the cult gather themselves in once spot, Aileen posing as one of their ranks and then spring a deadly trap before they could bring their demon into the world. All seemed well at first but Aileen had gone dark, she ignored her dead drops and missed rendezvous. Something was seriously wrong and so Eliza was forced to act alone.

Fearing the worst and letting her ire get the better of her Eliza blindly rushed into the cult's ritual. Daggers soared through the air and Eliza fired damn near every shot she had, carving a bloody path through the lichyard. Her anger lent her strength and speed but could do nothing for her when she stumbled across her sister's ritually sacrificed corpse. Consumed by a whole new torrent of emotion she went for the kill on the cult leader who cackled as she languished over her loss. A brutal beating ensued, her fury spurring a more personal confrontation. Unfortunately for her, right as she went for the coup de grace her pistol pointed at the man's skull her chance to end the conflict was stolen from her.

The demon they had been attempting to summon had indeed found its way to this side of reality, and worked its foul magics on her from the shadows. Before she could squeeze the trigger the demon banished Eliza from the graveyard with the intent of sending her elsewhere. However it would appear the demon hadn't changed where Eliza was, but when she would be there. She was shunted through time far far away from the victorian era, reemerging on the other side hundreds of years later. Her appearance as it happened, seemed to coincided with a local funeral. Eliza popped up seemingly from nowhere a sneer on her lip and tears streaming from her eyes, screaming savagely. She only realized she was no longer staring down a bloodied cultist but your modern day priest delivering the eulogy just before she fired her weapon.

Eliza instead stumbled backwards into equally shocked attendees of the service. Eliza whirled around confused, furious, and despondent. With this whirlwind of emotions as well as the aftershock of being shunted hundreds of years through time she was caught so off guard by the new and perplexing sights she had seen. After maybe a few seconds of panicked swearing she dropped to the ground like a stone and passed out. While she was unconscious someone called authorities of some variety and while that was getting sorted out that was when she was picked up by Invictus. Once she regained consciousness she wound up having some long rather interesting conversations with a representative or two. After a few shattered coffee cups, some swearing with liberal use of the words fuck, shite, and demon, she calmed down and began the long process of being brought up to date.

It was decided during her discussion with Invictus representatives she was to become a part of their organization, she volunteered for it in fact. Eliza was upset to say the least but there was no going back that she knew of. With that in mind she knew that this organization was more or less what she had devoted her life to prior, and likely her only chance of righting the wrong that had gone many centuries far too long without being rectified. So once again she had to learn the ropes, a process that would take months and even then, some things wouldn't settle quite right with Eliza anyway. After spending a little over a year, give or take a few months she was relocated from her original place of operations to another one in some place called Texas.


EXTRA INFO
Random factoids: Eliza always tries to have her back to a wall, will only shake hands by the wrist, and twirls her guns every time she holsters them. Additionally she's also a fair bit miffed that the dashing young hunter she had been courting back in her time is long gone and she wont be able to see that through now.

WEAPONS & ABILITIES

[fieldbox="WEAPONS, #242424, solid, 10"]

* Several silver plated throwing knives
* A holy feckin bible
* A pair of highly customized pistols, complete with laser sights, integral suppressors,and extended magazines.
* A couple of extra magazines.
* Her trusty old flintlock pistol: while it may seem like it'd prove ineffectual, it's actually loaded with a single heavily blessed round. The enchantment done to this round is particularly old but incredibly strong to boot. That being said it would more than likely slay unholy entities with extreme ease if it hit them. The one caveat being she only has one of these and is saving ti for the demon that ruined her life all those years ago.
[/fieldbox]
ABILITIES
Ability Name: Human
Description: makes one an actual factual, for real and not for fake, human being.
Strengths: you can drink holy water and probably not die, among other neat human traits that revolve around not being a demon or something.
Weaknesses: getting shot in the head and or other vitals means you're like super dead

 
[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]

It would appear that the day was not going to be a good one for Dragovich Vollrath, but what else was new? The past few days had been a whirlwind of frustration and general inquietude. Hell, the last eleven years had been that way as far as he was concerned. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but by all accounts life had not been kind to him thus far so perhaps it wasn't. There were of course, ups and downs to everything, such was the duplicitous edge that all life walked upon.

Dragovich was no exception to this rule, so it was only natural that he would occasionally break even when it came to that sort of thing. His stomach had managed to wind itself into a knot ever since he had been informed of his pending transfer away from the place he'd only just begun to consider his new home. When they'd told him he hadn't been sure if he wanted to hit someone or just curl up and stop existing. Fortunately he didn't have to go alone, and thus the balance shifted back toward equilibrium.

Drago still felt overwrought and rather nauseated but it could of been much worse had she not gone with him. The few hours had been confusing enough without having what little support he felt he had, and what he would ever allow from another human being. Running to and fro, learning new faces and names, figuring out where things were, new regulations, new living arrangements. It was all a blur and he was certain he wouldn't have been able to keep up without her help to keep him grounded. He'd come to trust very few people in his time but there was only one who'd managed to earn his friendship and his heart. She had become the silver lining to the life he now lead and her name was, Sibylla Anastacia.

With that in mind it was no surprise Drago was having trouble going off on his own for a mission that had come up soon after their arrival. To make matters worse he wasn't the only one going out into the field either. He was far more worried for her safety than his own, a habit he was struggling to put to bed. She could handle herself, Drago knew that but it didn't make him feel much better. So there they stood hand in hand, struggling to part for one reason or another.

Drago was an individual who seemed to go back and forth on displays of affection and what not. Sometimes he didn't care who was watching, other times it was quite the opposite. At the moment he was somewhere in the middle, a state of mind commonly known as hell. He wanted nothing more than to savor the time before they'd both be going off to deal with potentially life threatening scenarios. But he couldn't help but feel like everyone and everything was staring at them. It only made his insides hitch themselves into even tighter knots as they stood there, but at the same he was certain he'd feel even worse if they left too soon.

Dragovich did his best to ignore the nagging sensation of what felt like a thousand stares trying to burn a hole through him. He fluctuated between focusing on Sibylla's voice and telling himself there likely weren't anywhere near that many people in the hall , let alone that many interested in their affairs. The line of thought was cut across by Sibylla's words of encouragement. Drago listened tentatively, doing his best to shut out the surroundings. He was a man of few words so he kept most of his responses short or entirely based in body language.


At least when he communicated in the non verbal sense it would be obvious enough to those looking for it. Given his stature, he may as well be typing his feelings out in size forty-two impact font with the caps lock switched on. Drago gave something of nod at the prospect of the this being a way of getting them acquainted with the other agents. He didn't like it, but it seemed valid, stupid and annoying but valid. Drago couldn't help but feel an iota of indignation creep into his thoughts even still. He nodded again when it came to comparing notes but he couldn't help but toss in one of his sardonic little quips this time, "Doubt I'll turn up much."

He spoke slow and low, his voice barely above a whisper or perhaps growl was more accurate. Then came the rant, it was informative at the very least, and as far as Drago was concerned utterly adorable at most. The dour man cracked a small smile as Sibylla carried on with her line of thought, eventually silencing herself with his hands. He chuckled helplessly as Sibylla apologized. "S'alright. I enjoy listening to you speak." In all honesty Drago was legitimately a little calmer now than before, so there was definitely truth to what could easily have been petty flattery. "I'll help." he muttered somewhat absentmindedly after the kiss that followed.

But of course all good things had to come to an end, so with a hug and parting "I love you." Dragovich and Sibylla went their separate ways. Though in truth it was more like Drago stood there and looked on as his sole confidant went on her way. Dragovich did his best to maintain his stoic outward appearance whilst he reigned in his actually distressed state of mind. Call it silly separation anxiety, but it was a tad more difficult to embrace the unfamiliar environment on his own than he'd expected. Once again he felt as though everyone and everything was staring at him yet again. Someone walked by and glanced at him for just a second or two too long and that was it.

Drago couldn't help but feel like he was under a microscope. Unconsciously one of his hands went to his face covering the grizzly facial scar that marred half of his identity. Suddenly hyper aware of the roll of gauze he'd stashed in a pocket specifically for this reason, he reached for the bandages and set about covering the scar. In hindsight it might have been an overreaction, he wasn't exactly a normal man what with his height and the massive sword he carried around. Then again this being the sort of organization it was , that sort of thing might have been fairly unsurprising, but he didn't care to rationalize the situation.

Once he had finished shielding his visage from view he made haste to where he needed to be. Showing up just in time it seemed he found himself a spot toward a wall to stand, it'd be easier to adjust if he didn't feel like eyes were boring into the back of his skull at least. Drago listened to the man in charge delegate mission assignments to everyone present. All the while Dragovich's eyes wandered from one person in the room to the next as he warily examined his fellow agents. Eventually his eyes met with that of a rather strange woman across the room. His gaze hardened into a glare and scowled as she seemed to smirk and look away to fraternize with one of the other individuals in the room. The hell was that about?

Dragovich felt even more irritated now, he was going to be on a rather dangerous mission with a bunch of people he likely didn't know from someone on the street. Lovely. At least he'd have the opportunity to vent his frustrations on whatever it was they were after. The thought produced a nagging query he deemed important enough to string together a few words for anyway, " Given the nature of our task...what manner of munitions are permissible?"

Seeing as how an entire town had been obliterated one would assume they'd want to approach this mission with extreme prejudice. Its not like there was anything left for them to worry about in the way of collateral. What could have managed that? It made Drago wonder what sort of individuals he was going to be tackling this mess with let alone what they were facing. It could be virtually anything at this point, and in a scenario where there's mass destruction and you haven't a clue what your target is it could messy. What was more is not knowing meant you had to try and cover your bases with the talent you assigned to the mission. Just what kind of hammers had they picked out for this particular nail.

Dragovich knew his won strengths and short comings but he hadn't a clue about the rest of the squad. He'd find out soon enough but part of him wished he'd of managed to get this sorted prior to now. With the same icy appraising stare he glossed over every individual in the room conjuring up all manner of idea as to what they'd bring to the table. Hopefully no one would take this as an open invitation to a friendly chat, he was really not in the mood.​
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
Now Playing: Tool- Forty-Six and Two

Test test! This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

Location:His Room
Company:Sibylla
Status:Distressed


[/fieldbox]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
Now Playing: Tool- Forty-Six and Two

Test test! This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

Location:His Room
Company:Sibylla
Status:Distressed


[/fieldbox]




an alternate?
 
[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
Now Playing: Tool- Forty-Six and Two

There was the faint sound of water running from somewhere within the living quarters of Dragovich Vollrath. Along with it was the rhythm of a heavy bass line originating from a little electronic device as it belted out tunes from his preferred genre of music. Thee little device glowed with a soft blue light as it laid on the counter-top in the bathroom. The room was filled with a translucent haze as the hot water rained down on the strapping figure just beyond the curtain. The thick pall of steam created a film of condensation along the single large mirror by the sink. After a short while the sound of the water stopped as Drago decided to move along with the rest of his day.


It hadn't been any easier to get than it had been when he had first arrived here. Dragovich had unfortunately not made much progress in getting comfortable in the Texas branch of Invictus just yet. He had even more difficulty getting to sleep than usual, just the night before had been another rough one. The night terror wasn't the most intense one he'd ever had but it certainly had not been a gentle awakening. At the very least he had awoken to find Sibylla had returned from her work. As ever his episodes were worlds easier to come down from when she was there, so he'd pulled himself back together well enough thanks to her. He hated burdening such a kind soul with his problems but he was forever grateful for her unending support.


He'd made it a point to thank her as always with as much affection and appreciation as he could muster, even offering to bake up something special as thanks. As it turned out Sibylla had been exhausted from her work in sanctum and instead opted into going get some much needed sleep. She deserved the rest as far as Dragovich was concerned. Very few people were as dedicated or worked as much as Sibylla did. Drago still wished they were able to spend a little more time together though. The thought made him frown as he set about toweling himself off. At least they had been assigned as partners since the last round of missions.


It was certainly a wonderful surprise for drago. He had been anticipating being paired up with any number of the other agents here. He wondered if it had been a decision rooted in logic or one of pathos. Either way he agreed with the decision, and he didn't care if he was biased on the matter. Admittedly he found his anxieties about being separated from his sole confidant had been getting increasingly worse after their transfer. Every opportunity for bureaucracy and figures to be reconsidered and recounted just meant more opportunities to end up alone or have what time he desired with them restricted even further.


Drago let out an annoyed grunt and tied the towel he'd been using around his waist. He had to quit thinking like that. He needed to stop being so dependent on another for his peace of mind. He was aware of the potential complications, though it wasn't always easy. With a sigh the muscular man moved to the sink and went to work completing his preparations for the day's events. Internally he cursed it all, large social gatherings were draining beyond comprehension most of the time. But in the end he felt obligated to attend. Thinking on it he realized he wasn't even sure if it was an optional event. At the very least he'd get to spend some time with his beloved, though he would greatly prefer it be in a less communal setting.


Dragovich was a reserved man, and he despised being stared at like bacteria under a microscope. He could hardly conduct himself in the affectionate manor he felt his partner deserved with an audience waiting in the wings. Few things bothered him more than feeling he was begins stared at like he was some sort of freak or an animal in a cage. Part of him knew deep down that he wasn't likely to be the center of attention and that it was illogical to think otherwise, but it was an incredibly stubborn habit. Every eye seemingly burning a hole through him with their gaze. The notion of it sent a shiver of revulsion through him.


Drago let out an uneasy sigh as he retrieved his open razor from it's little black case he kept by the sink. He unfolded the blade and stared at it for a moment as he mentally prepared himself for his least favorite part of the grooming process. Dragovich was also a man who disliked a great many things, among them was mirrors. More specifically he hated the reflections in the mirror, at least more so than the object itself. It was something that had developed a short while after he'd been abducted all those years ago and since it had only become worse. With a deep breath Drago wiped away as much of the condensation as he could leaving a mostly clear view of himself in the mirror.


He shook droplets of water from the hand he'd used to wipe the mirror and peered into his reflection and lifted the razor to his face. As he went about shaving he did his best to keep his mind off of the image in the mirror. Disgusting. Instead he thought about his choice of razor, reminding himself the tool in his hand was incredibly outdated. Monster. It had been purchased for the novelty but in the end the archaic blade had become a favorite. Freak. He let out a quiet chuckle as he shaved what little stubble there had been present. Pretender. The razor was only half as useful as it could of been thanks to the scar tissue, then half again thanks to all the more efficient modern equivalents. Repulsive. It hadn't taken him long to finish what he was doing and he cleaned the razor and tucked it away into its proper place by the sink.


Dragovich rubbed the good side of his face with one of his hands, glancing at the mirror to admire his handy work. The was a mistake. He looked at his reflection for just a little too long and thus began the down spiral. His gaze was unfocused at first taking in all of what he saw at once. Eventually his image seemed to sharpen to an unnatural clarity. His mind glossed over the few positive traits he'd heard compliments on before and honed in on each and every imperfection. Every scar and blemish seemed so much darker than he remembered, as if they'd gotten worse over night. With his other hand he traced over some of the markings as if he was searching for evidence of change. Something, anything to confirm his suspicions.


Eventually his focus shifted from the veritable mosaic of cicatrices on his body to the lines on his face and studied his own face. Dragovich clenched his jaw as he looked on, his attention shifting between looking the reflection's eyes and the grisly stigma that had been thrust upon him. Something always felt...wrong, when he looked at his reflection. He understood that the person, no, the thing he saw was supposed to be him. The amber eyes were there, the carmine hair was there damp and matted to his forehead. But something was still off. It always seemed was some alien creature playing at being the one named Dragovich Vollrath.


Though the myriad of thoughts that swarmed in his head as he looked on at the lie before him, one stuck out the most whenever he found himself in such a predicament. If it wasn't him then who was it? And that thought led to another.Why did it want to pretend to be him? And another. Or was he the one pretending? And another. Was this the same thing everyone else saw? How did they put up with it? The flesh in the mirror did not match the mind inside and it was maddening to conceive that no one else was aware and not judging him.


It was even worse when Drago considered the illusion in place giving him the facade of being normal. His stature wasn't enough to set him apart from the average man, but a phantom limb and a glowing eye of red light set in an abyssal black sphere added to the inhumaity. The memory of how he'd come to be the thing that he saw in the mirror stung at the edges of his mind. Every detail was burned into his mind with perfect clarity. his mind drifted toward it only barely touching upon the impression the events of the past had left he found he could almost scent the crisp morning air and hear boots pacing around the room behind him again. The memory was all but on the verge of consuming him when the electronic device that had been playing a selection of music, beeped angrily.


Dragovich blinked twice slowly coming to the realization he'd been spaced out for some time. He shook his head and reached for the little device as it beeped again. He thumbed over the touch screen and the little machine went back to peacefully playing music once again. Drago took a moment to be glad he'd set an alarm in case he'd forgotten to start getting ready by now. He turned his attention to a barren space where he was supposed to have set his clothes out before showering. He had unfortunately forgotten to actually place the garments there earlier so now he had to go and get them. Normally this wouldn't of been an issue, and it still might not of been one on account of the company he had in the other room. It wasn't quite as daunting as it would of been had anyone else been present but still it was a touch embarrassing.


Dragovich looked at the door to the other room for a minute or so, trying to decide if it was worth getting worked up over. Eventually he decided to simply shrug it off and just get it over with. It wasn't so much he was worried for his own sake anyway, so without much internal strife he made sure his towel was secure and stepped out into the other room. Without breaking his stride Drago made his way to the closet and dug through in search of everything he needed. Without making too much noise he located all the components of his formal wear except for the damned tie. He briefly considered abandoning it altogether, after all he wasn't sure what the dress code for this event was. If he went too formal he'd be over dressed, if he didn't try hard enough he'd look like a fool. He grimaced as he found yet another reason he was not a fan of parties or mixers or what ever other asinine name was ascribed to such congregations.


After a little arguing with himself and eventually finding the tie he'd been looking for, he decided to hope that being overdressed would garner less attention than the alternative. With his clothes in hand Drago walked back tot he bathroom without so much as a glance around the other room. As soon as he had his privacy once again he proceeded to don his nice new suit. It was combination of black and a deep dark grey and to his liking it actually fit properly. Prior to joining Invictus finding properly fitting clothes had been a god damned nightmare. Now he was able to get practically everything customized to accommodate his needs. He was still grateful that thee shower had been built with taller folks in mind. Otherwise he'd of been stuck doing the awkward "over six feet tall" squat just to get his hair wet.


It took him a little longer than he'd anticipated to finish dressing himself, but that was the price you paid for compulsively checking to make sure you didn't miss a button or put the wrong button through the wrong hole. Then came the tie. Despite being a man at the ripe bold age of twenty four years, he'd never learned to properly tie one of the blasted things. It was like trying to tie a knot in a very upset cobra made of silk. He fumbled with it for about five minutes before getting fed up with it and looking up instructions online. They hadn't been particularly helpful for the most part, but eventually he managed one of the more simple knots with only a fraction of the irritation.


Drago glanced at his reflection to check if he'd done it right, but wasn't sure if it was just his mind playing trick on him or if it really looked as lopsided to others as it did to him. He fiddled with the knot, trying to adjust how tight it was hoping that would fix the problem. Sadly it did not. With an exacerbated sigh he turned away from the mirror and folded his arms across his chest. Tying knots wasn't supposed to be hard, hell he'd been taught how to tie a tourniquet and he'd actually used that knowledge before in the past well enough. Why was this any different? It was about that time he heard what sounded like movement in the other room. Perhaps his dearest was up and about now. And what was more, perhaps she would be able to help him make sense of the god forsaken fabric serpent.


" Sibylla? Can you help me for but a moment? I need you and your beautiful eyes to tell me if I tied this right. It looks whats the word...crooked? Askew? I think I fucked it up is all." Dragovich said called out as he made his way from the bathroom back out into the other room. Where he spread his arms out, a gesture that could easily be anything from look at me to give me a hug. He was fine with either, "I think maybe I'm overdoing it. Do I look alright? Sorry, if im nagging, Milovaný. Or if I woke you up...did you sleep alright? You seemed exhausted when you got back."


Location:His Room
Company:Sibylla
Status:Distressed


[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Eliza Bitter, #055252, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
Now Playing: The Clash- Guns of Brixton

Test test! This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.This is a test. Did you know I'm testing something? It's for testing a test. With a test. For a test. By a Test. "Test Test Test." So much testing, like oh my god. You don't even know how much I'm testing here.

Location:The Mixer
Company:That Fucker Albert
Status:Appalled


[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Eliza Bitter, #055252, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
Now Playing: The Clash- Guns of Brixton

Of all of the thing that could possibly be going on that day to make Eliza even more uncomfortable it had to be a bloody party. A mixer they called it, but it still meant she had to stand awkwardly in a room full of people she didn't know. It was bad enough she was only just getting over what ever flu she'd come down with prior, and then they sprung this on her. It was bad enough she was in such a foul mood of late, but who could blame her? Not only had her life been turned completely upside down and she been forced to adapt to an entirely new world, but she was all but forced into working with those...things. Unholy abominations, some of which she knew for a fact would prey on humans for sustenance. And some of them were in leadership positions, it was sheer madness, madness.


Of course this organization had to make things worse when one of said abominations was assigned to be her partner. "Of awl the fockin' people!" she had roared at the top of her lungs as she saw the name on her invitation to the even. "Albert fockin' Fieraru?!" she shrieked in disbelief. But who was she kidding, of course it was him. Of fucking course INVICTUS would do that to her. Eliza had half a mind to call...she didn't know who but someone to complain. But a fat lot of good that would have done her. Ultimately it didn't matter. As full of vitriol and anger as she was, she was sort of glad it was him and not someone else. She would never admit it but she would rather deal with an evil she knew than one she did not. At least Albert seemed honest about his nature, even if he was the most annoying spawn of the adversary Eliza had ever had the displeasure of knowing personally.


Had the man been a normal human being and not a glorified leech of the night, she might of even found his antics to be endearing. She might of even been able to forgive the theft of her personal bible if it wasn't for the whole vampiric stigma. Dealing with someone who was cheeky and acted like a wee bit of an ass was all well and good. Hell some of her best friends back in her day were of a similarly fresh nature. Dealing with someone acting like an arsehole wasn't the problem, but a vampiric arsehole was a bit different. Perhaps that wasn't fair, and deep down she felt maybe her prejudices were a little unfounded on account of the numerous instances they were challenged by an act of goodness. But she just couldn't shake it off. It felt wrong even if part of her could see the shreds of wholesome and pure intent in them. And that went double for everyone else.


Eliza didn't mean to be rude but it was difficult not to be wary of a plethora of creatures that could likely splatter her across the wall without much effort. It was a grim outlook sure, but she'd seen it first hand. IT was particualrly difficult to forget the happenings in jolly old London at thee time. Families butchered by lycanthropes, women of the night drained of their life blood and left to rot in an alley by a hungry vampyre. Alas she couldn't dwell on it forever, at least that's what everyone kept telling her. Moving forward was fine, she could do that, but not looking back was impossible. If anything Eliza probably showed Albert more disdain than other individuals sheerly for the fact they had met prior to her getting tossed through time. It wasn't his fault but something about him being there served as a constant reminder of the past she couldn't return to.


Like it or not however, Eliza had no choice but to keep moving forward and so she had to at least make an appearance at this godforsaken mixer. Getting ready and getting out that door had been a quick and easy affair. Getting comfortable at the mixer however proved to be a far more challenging endeavor. There were far too many people, even back in her own time she found herself uncomfortable with being literally surrounded. Without so much as a glance at any of the others in attendance Eliza made her way across the room, deftly avoiding being roped into any drinking games or dances. Instead she simply turned her gaze downward and did her taciturn walk toward obtain her own glass of liquid courage.


Eliza was a simple woman and she knew what she wanted, so as soon as her gaze landed on a bottle of whiskey she went for it. Without any hesitation Eliza sauntered over to the table of drinks and served her self a glass of that sweet old firewater. At the very least she could appreciate the quality of the drink in the future, it didn't taste quite the same but it was more than good enough. With that done she took quick sip of her drink and then skulked off to a nice secluded piece of wall away from the rest of the ruckus. It was there she leaned up against the wall enjoying the simple pleasure of her own company. Only to have that dashed to pieces in what she could only describe as the most "ambitiously fockin' harrible" manner.


The darkness came to life beside her, a writhing mass of nebulous shadow weaving a path for something sinister. And from the tenuousness blackness it arrived. Dressed to the nines in the attire of none other than a catholic priest was quite possibly her best and worst frenemy in the entirety of existence. Now Eliza was a tough lass sure, and she'd seen many horrors that few could come back from with a clear mind. By no means was she a coward in any shape or form of the phrase, in fact she was arguably the exact opposite considering she'd made a life of trying to combat something far beyond herself as a mortal human being. But one does not simply get shaken from their thoughts by the sudden shifting and warping of darkness and what was essentially her reality without getting at least a little bit frightened.


Eliza practically leaped right out of her skin as none other than Albert stepped out of the shadows next to her without any warning she had been aware of. With a shrill yelp she hopped to one side and dropped her drink, splashing the floor and her boots with its alcoholic contents. One hand went to her belt groping about for one of her guns, the other rose to her chest and planted itself firmly on her sternum, as if she was trying to stop her heart from popping out. It took her a few seconds to realize what or rather who she was staring at. In her shock she missed the first few words of the Verse Albert had been reciting. But soon enough her mind sharpened her perception to a fine point and she took it all in with absurd clarity. The adrenaline surging through her system as her fight of flight instincts went wild spurred her to action, and yet she did nothing once she realized the creature before her was her partner and he wasn't trying to kill her.


The key word her was trying of course, she figured Albert there might of given her a bloody heart attack had she been any less fortunate than she was right now. Her face flushed to a vibrant shade of pink as the embarrassment began to sink in. Eliza took in a few sharp breaths to steady herself, the rush of adrenaline making her hands shake ever so slightly as she rough them up in front of her. She must have looked a right mess to the rest of the people her and that only made the indignity of it intensify tenfold. It wasn't until Albert had finished his little jest that Eliza puller herself together enough to respond in any meaningful way beyond some flustered hand gesturing and confused sputtering.

"J-just...y-you absolute arse!" she shouted, the anger in her voice slowly rearing its ugly head as she balled her hands up into fists and gave Albert a hard jab in the shoulder. She briefly considered that Albert might not even feel the punch but it certainly helped her feel better about it. "Almost gave me a bloody heart attack doin' that, ya mad bastard!" Eliza shook her head, she was utterly beside herself with a mixture of anger and pure shock. "Makin' me spill mah drink an' everythin'! An' Just what the fock is all that?!" she hissed gesturing at the vampire's attire. Eliza rolled her eyes as she took a second to recollect the whole of it. " Are ya havin' a laugh? Ah hope ya are because ahm not quite sure what yer doin'? Tryin' to insult me? Well fer starters a wee bit o advice fer ya, ahm not catholic."

Part of Eliza would of been amused by the display but after being spooked into dropping her drink on top of how the rest of her week as been going was not ideal in the slightest. She opened her mouth to say more and relieve all of that pent up frustration, only to have it cut off by a whole new variety of racket across the room. "oh, what the fock is et no-" she muttered before stopping mid sentence to stare in bewilderment of Nike and company's little performance. "What the bloody fock' is all that even? Are people jus' tryin' to bug me today? Jaysus please let this shite be over with soon!"


Location:The Mixer
Company:That Fucker Albert
Status:Appalled


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#242424 Hiro Takahashi
Nickname: Hiro, Rem
Codename: Remedy
Age: 18
Gender: male
Race: meta human?
Department: Medical
Rank: New Recruit
Clearance Level: 1


APPEARANCE & OTHER FORMS
Hiro is on the smaller side for a male, standing at roughly five feet and five inches in height and weighing in at approximately one hundred and twenty six pounds. His hair color is not natural, he just goes out of his way to dye it a shade of purple. He's a fair skinned individual. Aside form that Hiro tends to wear a lot of baggy clothing and jackets unless he's on a mission. He dresses more for comfort than anything else. However when duty calls, form fitting outfits and other such tactical gear is something he strives for, he figures he's much less likely to get grabbed or snag on something if there's less to get a hold of. He likes wrist bands and the like though you'll likely never see them under the his sleeves.

[fieldbox="PERSONALITY, #242424, solid, 10"]

( 0 ) Hiro above all other things is shy. He has a very hard time being around people and interacting properly without getting flustered or embarrassed. It's to the point where he almost never actually looks at people when he speaks to them.

( 0 ) He is also a rather curious individual. He has a thirst for knowledge and a tentatively inquisitive nature. Often new and interesting things drawing him in to observe, usually from afar. It doesn't take too much to arouse his interest in investigating something, which can be a boon in some cases and not so much in others.

( 0 ) Hiro is also a cynical kind of guy. While he himself generally has good intentions, he's become far too aware of thee ills of the world. So he tends to be skeptical of others, which has served as a defensive mechanism but also makes fostering healthy relationships difficult.

( + ) Hiro is also a rather polite lad indeed. He shows respect where it is due and tries to give everyone the same treatment he would appreciate. He makes it point to say please and thank you and all that jazz. Very rarely will he willfully disrespect people, but in these cases it likely has to do with some prior slight made against him

( + ) Hiro also has a compassionate nature. He genuinely cares for other people and tries to be kind to everyone, even those who don't deserve it. He may be bad at talking to people but he will typically make an effort if he feels like its the right thing to do for someone.

( + ) Hiro is a generous guy who typically goes out of his way to help other people. He won't exactly give you the shirt off of his back (body image issues and all) but he'd certainly think of something else if need be. This even extends to some individuals who might not actually deserve his help.

( - ) Hiro also has a damnable habit of slipping into neurotic sates of mind. He isn't always this way but some days he can exhibit a severely anxious and at times depressive attitude. On these bad days he will scarcely interact even with people he's close to, sometimes going so far as to isolate himself entirely.

( - ) He is also incredibly skittish. He tends to be rather jumpy and on edge. Combining this with his more timid nature and he becomes a ticking time bomb of tension. This also makes it difficult for him to overcome frightening situations and as such will likely hamper his ability to function in the field. Not only does he spook easily but he also tends to shut down entirely when he its particularly bad.

( - ) Hiro, while being one who typically seeks to help people and spread positivity, he tends to hold a grudge when slighted. If someone in his life treats him or others poorly he will definitely grow to despise them without reservation. His vitriol is something he keeps under wraps but it's definitely there, festering deep down. While it doesn't exactly mean he will refuse to help them should they be in need or that he will retaliate, it certainly makes long term relationships difficult if the problem is not nipped in the bud early on.
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HISTORY TO CURRENT
Hiro's past is a rather simple one. For the most part he lived a fairly uneventful life, with the exception of his parents making a living in a rather unique field. His mother and father just so happen to be agents of INVICTUS. So for all of his life Hiro's exposure to and involvement with the organization was near constant. It was an unspoken agreement he too would one day follow in his parents' foot steps and join them as agents of the Hawaii branch. It became especially imperative he join when at the ripe bold age of sixteen he began to exhibit some form of supernatural ability. It wasn't something spectacular of flashy but it proved to be quite the subject of interest.

Hiro for one reason or another developed the ability to heal people of what ailed them with something a simple as being near by. Frankly no one would of even noticed the change had he not made it a habit of helping his mother at work. His mother was a nurse in one of INVICTUS' medical establishments and he would regularly visit her there to lend a hand with this thing or that. By mere chance he discovered that people he interacted with enough seemed to improve in health rather quickly. It seemed to be something subtle barely worth investigating until he managed to heal some lacerations whilst administering first aide.

It was around then people took interest and some testing and study had been in order. After some thorough investigating it was discovered that his healing capabilities were more potent than they had originally believed. Apparently the contents of his blood could cause rather impressive healing potential in a variety of subjects. As far as Hiro was concerned it was great news, he had been planning to go into the medical field like his mother anyhow, but unfortunately things didn't quite go as smoothly as he would have hoped.

As it turns out, the particular branch of INV that Hiro was with happened to be compromised by some variety of spy. And once word of his ability reached them they passed it to some unsavory individuals outside of the organization. Normally one would figure that Hiro and his healing wouldn't have been that high a priority target considering the variety of other far more spectacular beings and objects in the possession of INVICTUS. Never the less for reasons unknown a kidnapping was orchestrated. Hiro was snatched and dragged off to a hidden medical facility in a neighboring town. While there Hiro was regularly pricked an poked with medical tools and having his blood draw. Over the course of three days he was stuck having his blood drawn and slipping in and out of consciousness. Luckily INVICTUS agents managed to track him down and free him, but not before his captors took whatever data and samples they'd collected and sent it off to who knows where.

After he was rescued and was able to recover Hiro was placed into a protection program of sorts and sent off to another INVICTUS facility while internal affairs began its investigation into a possible mole. For the next two years Hiro was occasionally shuffled from one facility to another until eventually he was scheduled to move to the Texas branch where he would remain indefinitely until further notice.


EXTRA INFO
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WEAPONS & ABILITIES

[fieldbox="WEAPONS, #242424, solid, 10"]
Panacea Precision Prescription Rifle (PPPR) : A custom made sniper rifle made to deliver a variety of medicinal shots to targets via an assortment of dart cartridges . The weapon allows Hiro to maintain a safe distance in hostile environments dishing out support and sabotaging enemy contacts. Unfortunately it falls short against heavily armored targets thanks to it's lack of penetrating power.

Prescription Rounds: The ammunition for the PPPR comes in a variety of dorms, every cartridge has approximately five rounds. The kinds of substances delivered by these rounds can vary greatly, the most common ones are:
Sedative darts: simple high dosage sedative darts, good for calming or reducing pain in comrade and just as good for neutralizing foes safely.
Paralytic darts: neurotoxic darts that cause target's muscle tissue to seize involuntarily
Combat Stimulant darts: these darts contain a mixture of chemicals that help increase neural synaptic speed in targets hopefully granting them heightened combat capability.
Grey darts: special darts for inorganic targets, contain nanites that eat through inorganic matter and disrupt electronics.​
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ABILITIES
Ability Name: Proximity Healing
Description: Hiro is constantly radiating an energy that promotes recovery in those around him, the effective range is of a good size, spanning about fifteen feet in diameter. The effect however varies in intensity based on proximity to the source. Distance healing provides very subtle benefits while direct physical contact with Hiro will have a dramatically increased effectiveness. Its a matter of minor wounds healing faster over the course of a few hours to the course of a few seconds in difference. More serious wounds take more time of course. Though on the bright side the healing appears to exhibit an analgesic effect.
Strengths: Heals wounds at greatly increased rates, relieves pain
Weaknesses: the effect varies based on distance meaning Hiro has to be close for it to work at it's best, when he is healing by direct contact he can only heal one person at a time and he cannot choose his target (the ability will prioritize whomever is the most injured), Hiro cannot reattach severed limbs nor can he heal things that are not living, interestingly enough Hiro's power is effected by the rapport he has with his targets thus if he and his target are at odds with one another his haling effects will be reduced severely making a wound that should take ten seconds take closer to ten minutes.

Ability Name: Health Booster
Description: This ability is one that takes time to set in, in essence it is a phenomena that occurs when individuals spend enough time within the area of effect of Hiro's powers for extend period times. Spending a few minutes around Hiro every day for roughly ten to twelve days will significantly increase the body's natural resistance to disease and promote general wellness in subjects under it's effects.
Strengths: provides an ample boost to the immune system and other aspects of day to day health
Weaknesses: it takes quite a while for the ability to take effect and requires it be maintained or the effect will fade and need to be cultivated yet again

Ability Name: Vitae
Description: Hiro's blood seems to be able to pass along the benefits of his powers with much greater effect than is normal, causing massive regeneration and being capable of flushing out toxins and pathogens from the body once's it's been introduced to the body.
Strengths: The healing it provides can repair damaged organs in minutes and even cause diseases and poisons to be neutralized in their entirety, the transfusion can be done on any living being regardless of blood type or species
Weaknesses: The healing can only take effect if Hiro's blood is introduced intravenously, Hiro's power has no effect on his own body, if Hiro is ill or severely injured the effects are weakened, to use this ability Hiro is in fact losing blood and it can kill him if he looses too much as per the usual, however it's made worse by the fact he cannot receive a transfusion to replace lost fluids unless they're of a matching blood type.

Ability Name: Lifeline
Description: This is possibly the most powerful ability Hiro has at his disposal but it comes with a steep price. In a pinch Hiro can focus his power at one persona and one person only and establish a link of high intensity restoration between them. Thus it not only repairs their wounds but it can provide them with a substantial boost in stamina. However if his target becomes fatally wounded or takes too much damage Hiro will suffer a feedback effect and suffer damage in their place, which can easily cost him his life. On the upside this ability has a much larger maximum range once it is in effect boasting around 150 feet in distance.
Strengths: The ability grants the target high regeneration and staves off fatigue, it also has a much higher range than usual.
Weaknesses: if the target takes too many heavy hits or suffers damage that would be fatal the injury will transfer to Hiro instead and then abruptly cut off the effects entirely, Hiro must be able to focus on his target or the effect will end.

(you can add more abilities using the same structure above)
 
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