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Staff character folks, pay attention B-)

 

Name: Zorvon

Species: Male Toa of Plasma

Affiliation: Undercity Police (Leader)

 

Powers: Zorvon’s element is plasma, enabling him to heat, melt or vaporize nearly anything, detect heat sources and launch plasmatic energy blasts. His Kanohi is the Mask of Charisma, letting him subtly alter people’s perception of facts and events to suit an agenda. The power of this mask is well near the only reason Zorvon is still in charge of the police force. Zorvon’s element grants him varying degrees of resistance to heat, radiation and blinding light.

 

Gear: Zorvon’s main armament is a protosteel scimitar, motley gray in color, scratched and wearied, but not dulled by a long time in its owner’s use. He owns a Rhotuka Launching Shield, with Rhotuka that traps its targets in Stasis Fields, and also holds one of the explosive projectile launchers that are so prevalent in the Undercity.

 

Skills: Fast and Flexible, in both mind and body, Zorvon adapts to a situation and makes the best of what he has on hand. He’s a good field commander, and is very good at inspiring his men and keeping them together. When he has to sit back and deal with “desk work”, he’s certainly capable of pulling that off as well, but his true passion is to be out there with his officers, keeping the peace.

 

Weaknesses: Zorvon’s strong sense of justice veers a little too close to a black/white moral view. Zorvon’s element makes him weaker against colder temperatures. He can also be overpowered by sheer force should one get the drop on him.

 

Appearance: Peering through the armored visage of a Mistika-adapted Hau, Zorvon’s eyes glow like twin lightstones in the dark gloom of the Undercity, and his primarily white, orange-accented form is instantly recognizable from its straight posture and determined stance. To say his appearance is inspiring is underselling it. Once you get past the bravado-filled first impression, though, you see a man with a tired drag on his shoulders, like a burden constantly weighs him down, and commonly with shadows under his eyes from too little sleep. He’s a strong man, but he’s not getting by unscathed either.

 

History: In the Undercity born and raised, Zorvon’s parents were both in law enforcement, something he felt inspired to do himself.

It was after the Undercity’s rapid decline, where his parents were lost in the upheaval, that Zorvon threw all his dedication into his job, working himself till his bones ached to be the best Officer he could be. This dedication soon earned him the top job, one which he has now established himself in firmly. The attacking Daemons are the least of Zorvon’s troubles, what with the Gang War, Black Market trade and the petty crime; just another shelf in the archive that’ll be packed to the brim.

 

Personality‏: Brave, practical and determined is Zorvon in a nutshell. He works hard, every day, to keep the Undercity and its people in one piece, pacifying uppity commoners and quashing the rampant gangs as hard has he can under his heel. When he fails, he takes a different approach and tries again. He’s driven, but not stubborn, and is perfectly capable of realizing his mistakes and adapting to the situation; it is how you survive in the Undercity as long as he has. Zorvon is rather bitter, and can seem very jaded, working with such minute resources as he does to do a job he used to love, but now sees as his Duty and nothing more. He’s a man of action before words, and his words are usually only noteworthy due to his Kanohi.

Edited by Gyro Gearloose

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(Pre-approved by Gravs:)

 

Name: Her ###### Majesty Yumabit, Queen of Vice
Species: Female Toa of Psionics
Gender/sexuality: Agendered and bisexual
Affiliation: Self self self self self
Powers: Yumabit wears a Mask of Possibilities to alter the probabilities of events around her. Her powers in Psionics allows her to toy with people’s minds, break their sanity and even sense consciousnesses in her vicinity. As a result of sophisticated training in her element her mastery of it is nigh absolute.
Gear: Guns, booze and boobs.
Skills: Oh, just mindscrewing, perverse negotiation, marksmanship and metabolizing her alcohol as if it were water.
Weaknesses: She’s a master at psionic warfare, but if her shrouding fails her and she doesn’t overcome a threat before being physically confronted she can be easily dealt with. She looks fit but she’s not a capable fighter. Though lithe, she’s not a distance runner. Furthermore, she sometimes underestimates her stronger opponents.
Appearance: Yumabit has a royal blue-and-gold body with teal plating in her armor and a perfect-looking Kanohi that frames two beautiful bright blue eyes and a pretty little smile; everything is polished and shiny, yet she often puts on red dresses and cloaks while out of her apartment. She walks with divine grace and acts with elite precision, all just devices for her to get her way.
History: The apparent sole daughter to a single mother who died several decades ago, Yumabit inherited everything: The resources, the skyscraper, the slaves… but none of the kindness, the generosity, the courtesy. Everything for her is pure peachy and she knows zero restraint ever since her mom went away, and for her the arrival of the Demons represents a personal challenge. After all, she can’t bear having somethings take away her fun, can she?
Personality: To define Yumabit as cruel and unusual is putting it mildly—she’s a dominatrix who can weasel into your soul and make you dream whole lifetimes of bliss while she defiles you in reality, a venal and wicked girl with no limit. Unless you share her social class, you are not a person to her but a subject at best and a source of her pleasure per her whim at worst. Raised in the lap of utmost luxury she has known nothing but amusement and pleasure, even being the absolute owner of her very own skyscraper, a miniature kingdom with her as its sovereign. Oftentimes she’ll throw a trendsetting party in her immense penthouse that draws hundreds of revelers, and those are just the ones she invites. She learned combat skill and elemental mastery, not because of any particular need but rather just because, “Why not?”

Those two words have dominated her life and become her motto, and to date she hasn’t met any answer she couldn’t just kill. She sells highly addictive substances to the citizens of the Lower City all while occasionally making holidays down there for “hunting trips” to further sate her taste for destruction. As a result, she has a good idea of the geography down below and a casual disregard for the lives there. Or any life, really.

Edited by Crown Princess Yumiwa
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Thematic: Two Steps from ######; “Power of Darkness”

Name: Seldron

Species: Elite Skrall; Male

Affiliation: The Gangs; Chains of Roxtus. They are roughly five dozen strong, but split among three groups. The first, the Dealers, are scattered across the city mostly as individuals; they are tasked with trading in merchandise. Roughly six live in the Uppercity. The second, the Catchers, are the dangerous group of the bunch; they roam in small groups, and are tasked with locating the merchandise, and sneaking it past the Lock and up into the Undercity. They wear distinctive masks – resembling a black Hau – and dark cloaks. Most would consider them to be the elite of the group; as good as most cops, but generally keeping out of the way of Enforcers. The third, the Watchers, are simply thugs, in no way separate from regular gangsters; they are found only the Undercity, and tasked with keeping the Chains bases safe.

Powers: Due to the blessing of a seer using a Mask of Clairvoyance, Seldron bears both a special protection, and a special curse – he knows exactly how he is going to die. While the imperfection of such visions has left the rest of this unknown, he knows that his method of death will be through the piercing of his heart. Of course, this does not necessarily prevent him from being harmed; he can still be injured just as anyone else can, he simply will not die until the proper blow has been struck.

Gear: Seldron carries with him a large, exsidian Skrall broadsword which he uses to deadly effect in melee combat. The weapon is both heavy and sharp enough to cut through almost any armor, save for that crafted from superior metals (such as protosteel). For ranged combat, he carries an assault rifle which he prefers to employ in a more “spray and pray” style than anything sophisticated and carefully done, having access to the resources. He wears a breastplate of exsidian (worth a small fortune in the Undercity) to protect his chest; the rest of his armor has a very high resemblance to both that of the Roman Gladiator, and that of the common Skrall soldier from Bara Magnan times.

Skills: In his own gang, there is no soldier more well versed in the art of war or swordsmanship than great Seldron; even outside, he is a master combatant, to the point that even careless Toa have fallen to his hands. He puts great pride in physical combat, and possesses a great strength; more than that, however, he bears an incredibly cunning mind – it was this that allowed him to power, more so than anything else save perhaps luck. His mind is quite strong, granting him a resistance to anything which may target it.

Weaknesses: As has been stated, Seldron is not protected from physical harm or injury by the augury; in some respects, it can actually be useful to one who knows about it (interrogations, for example, are far more useful when ones need not fear their victims death). It does, however, take away his fear of death; while his pragmatic approach to situations keeps him out of combat most of the time, he often fails to take the necessary precautions once melee has been entered. He has no other powers, and very little practical defense against them.

Appearance: While not as tall as giants such as the Wolf, Seldron is an imposing figure at 1.85 Bio in height. His build indicates that of a man used to constant work and little food; a glimpse at him would indicate nothing but musculature. His helmet is that which is favored among the Skrall, though he does not wear it all that often; his armor is better described under the Gear section. He bears scars across most of his body.

History: The years which followed Mata-Nui's defeat of the Makuta were viewed by many as a Golden Age – but for the Skrall, it was anything but. Forced to the hills and kept under constant pressure, any attempt to rebuild their civilization seemed inevitably doomed by the increasingly speciesist views which were becoming increasingly prevalent. While some attempted to rejoin civilization, they were often treated as an underclass; an underclass Seldron was born into. Still, there was one thing Skrall were seen to be good at – combat. As many Agori still wished to continue viewing the old gladiator matches, despite the outdatedness of the Glatorian system, and Steltian culture almost made life without an area impossible, blood sports often continued in the more isolated regions of the newly built civilizations. The cost of paying Glatorian soldiers was often seen as too high, and with death rates being incredibly high in such arenas, it was slaves who got the short end of the stick – and where better to get slaves but from those with nowhere else to go? Seldron was an example of this – captured and thrown into the arena at a young age, and trained from there to be another gladiator in the new arenas. The long life of a Spherus Magnan made this not simply a matter of years, but of centuries – centuries during which he has slain thousands of warriors, often of species often considered far greater than himself.

However, not one of these matches was more of an upset than his first – that against a Steltian of the gladiator-class. The odds against him were great, and bets placed in his favor were few; save one, a Toa who placed a massive fortune that day upon him. True to her prediction, he defeated his opponent through guile and skill, and immediately earning himself a name. After the match, that same Toa entered the slave pens and came to him, telling him of her vision; of his death through the piercing of the heart, but with all else clouded. Eventually, a prospective employer of soldiers spotted him during a match and paid for his release, immediately after offering him a position as a bodyguard. The Skrall accepted, and found the new scenario much to his liking. This man, it turned out, was planning on making a move to a new City which was under construction, to assist as a civil engineer. Indeed, the ever reaching City in the Stars was a magnificent sight, building constantly upon itself and leaving unneeded sublevels behind; but more interesting to Seldron was learning of the people who populated. He was not entirely surprised to learn that, in the more secure regions of the city, the slavery of afar was continued; captives forced into labor, or into combat, as their “betters” saw fit. However, these same slaves would not be around forever; the number of them dying was surely higher than the new ones this particular class could bring about.

Noting this, he left his employer, under the agreement they keep in touch – and more importantly, took to heart everything about the design and layout of the city that he had seen while working with him. While the city has grown since then, these levels included a particularly important set – those which would one day become the Lock. Descending to the Undercity, Seldron began to take advantage of its growing poverty and chaos to form his own gang – the Chains of Roxtus, named for both is purpose (to capture citizens and bring them in as slaves), and for its founders; all four of them, Skrall. Of that group, only Seldron is alive today, the others having died whilst out on earlier missions from Enforcers, diseases, and other like things. Not wishing to follow the same fate, Seldron – now having a quite large force at his disposal – has isolated himself to the Web of Chains, a twisting group of tunnels in southern region of the Undercity. Only his Catchers and (on rare occasions) Dealers are ever granted a chance to view the Chained Keep, a large building at the very center converted into a keep through the use of traps and a wall of rubble; at any given time, just over a dozen soldiers are ever there. Despite its isolation, the Keep is actually a quite extravagant place to live, stemming from the incredibly high pay drawn in by the slave trade with the black market of the Uppercity.

It should be noted that Seldron has paid off most of the police force, and even a large number of Enforcers; for the latter group, however, the pay is rarely necessary – word from “up top” often prevents any actions undertaken by the Chains. Still, a few more independent agents will on occasion strike out against them; never a wise move, as while slaying a few Watchers is simple enough, a group of Catchers is one to be feared. A note – slaves taken are generally those in the furthest regions of the city; those without a job and a home, and most importantly, alone. Only rarely are groups rounded up; those who act against the Chains would, of course, have you believe otherwise, to emphasize their crimes. In some cases, individuals have sold themselves to the Chains, who provide compensation to another in order to take the person in; this compensation is, of course, far lower than the actual market price. On rare occasions, Catchers are rumored to have promised people an escort past the lock, only to then bring them in; in other cases, individual Catchers have actually been hired to provide safe passage – but even then, they could just be leading you to their friends.

Personality: Born into a life where every opportunity mattered, Seldron was quick to become just that – an opprotunist. He will take every advantage he can, and do whatever it takes to look out for his own self-interests. Though selfish, and without any regard for mercy or sympathy, he has never been known to act in a manner outside of what is necessary; the same cannot be said for his underlings, though he has on occasion reprimanded them for such actions.

 

“Fang, son of Great Fang, the traitor we seek,

The laws of the brethren say this:

That only the king sees the crown of the gods,

And he, the usurper, must die.”

- Genesis, “White Mountain”

 

Name: Romaln

Species: Ice Glatorian; Male

Affiliation: The Enforcers

Gear: Romaln carries at his waist a weapon he calls the Howling Scepter, an item by all appearances to be of ancient Spherus Magnan make, though seemingly far older. It appears as a long, metallic rod of twisting designs that ends with a grasping claw. The weapon is capable of generating sonic energy and channeling it as a cone of deadly sound capable of incapacitating enemies; the sound is generally kept in a channeled burst, but can also be released without such restrictions, though this leaves him just as vulnerable as anyone else. When released as a cone, those beyond can still identify the sound being produced – that of a howling Iron Wolf. The Scepter can also be employed as a deadly melee weapon; in this regard, the Scepter releases some form of psychological force which causes incredible pain to any struck by it (note: comparable to a couple dozen tarantula wasps against a human). His Enforcer's Armor acts as body armor against ballistic assault, and is reinforced with thermal and electrical shielding; on both arms, he has shield-projectors capable of manifesting a buckler-sized ward of Hau-type energy to absorb the force of an attack. The pack he carries contains a few lightstones.

Skills: Romaln is at the peak of physical fitness and has years of combat experience, to the point that many of his fellow Enforcers fear the prospect of sparring with him. Though age has not been kind to his abilities, his reputation alone is enough to drive most enemies away, and to strike fear into others. His intelligence is above average, but not exceptional; in terms of education, his is built mostly upon experience, as a very severe case of dyslexia inhibits his reading aptitude and his pride prevents him from showing and correcting this weakness.

Weaknesses: Though he dislikes admitting it, Romaln's abilities are waning with age; he cannot fight with the same speed he once could, and he faces as severe disadvantage when pressed by several enemies simultaneously. Other than the employment of his Scepter, he also lacks any means of employing ranged weaponry, as he has never received training in any modern weaponry. Thanks to his non-functioning right eye, his vision is rather limited, which only contributes further to his poor aptitude with ranged weaponry.

Appearance: The 2.0 Bio tall giant Romaln is an imposing figure amongst Glatorian, and even among the majority of Matoran Universe species; in many ways, he can be described as “larger then life”. His skin is the pale-blue of the ice tribe, perhaps even lighter than most; his left eye, bright blue; his right, completely white. Wrinkles are visible on his face. In contrast to the oft shaved appearances of others, he grows out his thick, white hair much like a mane, though he always keeps it under the large, grey helmet that he wears. Of course, above all, the most striking feature to his appearance is the massive, three-clawed scar which covers the right side of his face. His “armor” is simply an extended bullet-proofed vest with a few modifications (see: Gear) for extra protection; on the chest plate there is a highly stylized drawing of an Iron Wolf in bright blue, green laurels wrapped around it. Often, he carries his beautiful Scepter in full display, as if daring a thief to make a move – or threatening all who know what it can do. His bearing is formal, displaying an almost militaristic dedication.

History: Romaln is an old Glatorian of uncertain age – he's fairly sure he was alive during the Core War, but he's also has no memory of the Shattering taking place. With that in mind, he and others simply assume that his birth on Bota Magna occurred well after the fact, and that the war he remembers was simply another land skirmish against the Vorox from the valley below. It was during such land skirmishes that he picked up his ancient title – the Wolf of White Mountain; a reference to one of many names for the large mountain where his tribe made their homes (the last snow-capped mountain on Bota Magna). In those days, he was renowned for his speed and quick reflexes, with his great strength simply an asset. As he aged, however, he found his speed began diminishing more and more. To compensate, he focused more and more on honing his combat skills, so that he could properly face off against enemies.

At the time, Bota Magna was facing a serious threat – drought. While rainfall persisted, the land was becoming gradually drier and drier without the waters of Aqua Magna, and the ecosystem was suffering. The area around his home village was among the most heavily impacted; thankfully, atop their mountain home, they felt very little danger. The Vorox down below were not so lucky; many fled, attempting to rejoin larger tribes elsewhere. Those who persisted, in desperation, attacked; Romaln was among the many warriors to fight that day, and by far the most successful. Unfortunately, it came with a price – in the fight, a Vorox was able to successfully leap upon him and rend his face with its jagged maw; though his blade saved him, it was not enough to save his eye, which was damaged beyond repair. It most certainly did not save the rest of the Vorox in the city below, who the Wolf brutally assaulted with the rest of his tribe. Once the entirety of those present had been massacred, the tribe took to looting; and there, in an ancient temple to the Great Beings, did Romaln find a device of beauty – the Howling Scepter, a weapon which, in his hands, made him just shy of a god to the unpowered residents of the world; one which the Vorox, for reasons unknown, would not employ.

Scepter in hand, Romaln led his tribe from their home as nomads, in search of a better land. As time progressed, however, they become increasingly adept at the hunter-gatherer life; their old search became lost. Along the way, villages were pillaged or recruited, and they grew strong. Even the massive Vorox cities were swept away when they attacked, that deadly weapon in hand. Unfortunately, just as Romaln got older, the Scepter grew weaker; he began using it sparingly, and in time, kept it only as a personal weapon. Century led to century, and one fateful day, Spherus Magna Once Shattered was made whole again.

Though his old tribe did remain together for some time as part of the main forced in subduing in the Vorox of Bota-Magna, their entire way of life was changed by the new society being created. Many of the older members attempted to merge back into their old lives from before the Shattering, taking their familes with them; others refused to do so. Romaln, for his part, was eager to join the new, grand society he saw before him. He certainly never expected it would result in a place like the City in the Stars would be result.

Today, Romaln is one of the highest ranking members of the Enforcers. Many, even among his ranks, view him with a combination of fear and respect; some are admirers, others seem him with disdain. Of course, that respect is currently being tested. Only a few years before, a thief broke into an Uppercity museum and stole the Starlight Crown, one of the most expensive pieces of jewelry into the entirety of the City. Romaln was appointed by his superiors with the task of solving the case – locating and executing the thief by whatever means necessary. Since then, he has dedicated his entire life to sweeping the Undercity and finding the thief, by whatever means necessary.

While his appearances below the Lock at first made him seem a complete outsider, in recent times he is rather well known. Despite his mission, he frequently aids the local police in affairs, and has gained the respect of many as one of the few Enforcers actually trying to exercise the law. More so, in recent days, his goal seems to be shifting to a new threat – the Demons. But even with their looming threat, he continues his search for the mysterious thief.

Personality: Ordered barely begins to describe Romaln; indeed, everything he does is performed by the books. At the very least, that's what most think; the truth is, Romaln is actually unlearned in the majority of laws, instead following codes and procedures which are highly dated. Due to the abusive nature of the current system, this often works out for the benefit of those good people in the Undercity; for the true criminals, however, his justice is both swift and mighty. His respect for the law does, however, carry a few consequences; when a question arises between doing what's lawful and doing what's moral, he will always choose the former. He is quite aware of his reputation, and will use it whenever necessary to extort someone or force them into doing things; he is by no means pleasant company, and has in the past outright offended others. Indeed, while he still has a few friends among the Enforcers that frequent the Undercity, and among the local police, his relationship with those back in the Lock is strained.

 

 

"Listen to my music

And hear what it can do

There's something here as strong as life

I know that it will reach you"

- Rush, "2112 [iV. Presentation]"

 

Name: Vailarin

Species: Unspecified Speciation [Lariska's]; Female

Affiliation: The Commoners

Powers: Like other members of her species, Vailarin's senses are far keener than those of others. This holds true in particular for sight, hearing, smell, and balance. In particular, her hearing is far more sensitive than even the most well trained De-Matoran; unlike De-Matoran, however, who are highly susceptible to noise, the actual loudness is increased by very little – she is simply able to better pinpoint quieter ones, and hear frequencies much higher or lower than others could. The net increased perception is enough to bypass even the concealing powers of the Mask of Stealth.

Gear: Vailarin typically carries with her a small satchel filled with useful supplies like bits of food, a handful of dying lightstones, and her book of songs. Her most prized possession is her lute; while nothing compared to the fine instruments common on the upper levels, and thus of little comparable worth, it is one of the last great instruments on the lower levels. She keeps what little money she has in a pouch at her belt, and always carries a fully loaded revolver at her hip; extra ammunition is in her pack.

Skills: Faced with the dangers of the city, Vailarin was quick to train herself on the art of combat. Against unmoving targets, her aim is actually quite good; further, thanks to her increased senses, she is capable of fighting in low or even near-zero visibility with little impact. Her greatest skill, thanks in large part to her keen ear, is with music; few, if any, can match her skill playing the lute; among those can, there's not one who can also match her voice, which is equally well. Finally, she is actually quite knowledgeable on the Undercity and its workings, and is very much aware of current events.

Weaknesses: While not nearly as vulnerable as De-Matoran, Vailarin is still less protected against sonic attacks than the average person would be. Her combat skills also leave some to be desired, as she is mostly self-taught in the ways of battle. Finally, as she lacks no well-developed powers of her own, Vailarin has no defense against those of others.

Appearance: Vailarin stands at roughly 1.6 Bio in height, within the average height range for a Toa. Her frame shows an active lifestyle, though the malnutrition prevalent in the Undercity makes it difficult to consider her healthy looking. Her natural armor is lighter than that of a Toa, primarily of a lime green coloration but paired also with spots of teal. Her stance generally gives off a relaxed look. She carries a satchel, a few pouches at her belt, and a holster for her revolver. It is rare to encounter her without lute in hand; if not there, it will generally be strapped across her back.

History: Born into the Undercity and very quickly orphaned, all of her life Vailarin has seen the hardships and trials prevalent among the commoners – indeed, she quite literally came from nothing. Unlike many others, however, she had a natural talent for singing which allowed her to very rapidly gain attention. As she grew older, she took to doing performances in exchange for small tips; however, as conditions began to gradually worsen, she found her voice alone to be increasingly inadequate. It was during those darker times she first began practicing with a weapon; with so little to spare, she became increasingly scared at the prospects of robbery or worse. Her life would take a somewhat dramatic change, however, the day when she attempted to flee past the Lock. She never reached it – as she climbed through the levels, she was able to hear a patrol of Vahki moving in from the lower levels. She attempted to flee into one of the old side passages; as she did, though, she stepped onto a rusty platform which caved in, causing her to fall quite a few levels to the floor below. When she finally regained consciousness, she found herself confronted with an ancient room full of old, worn out sound equipment; an ancient recording sound studio from the time from the beginning of the city. Amongst the rubble, however, she found a time-locked case – and in it, her lute. Though she had seen instruments before, she had never seen one of such obvious quality. More importantly, in that case she discovered a small book containing a number of songs. She proved to be natural with the instrument, and for hours continued working with it and (carefully) on it. It wasn't for some time that her hunger made her realize she needed to leave. Finding the door, she made a long trek back to the heart of the Undercity, where for the first time she unveiled to the population what music she could now create.

Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, it was not an instant hit; while people were impressed, her skills were not yet developed enough to gain true notice... save from a few Enforcer agents, who caught sight of the instrument and immediately demanded to know where she got it. To say they didn't believe her would be inadequate; the group immediately took to beating her in the middle of the city, whilst their leader took the lute. As he prepared to smash it, however, he caught sight of a recognizable marking – that the lute belonged to a still-living musician from the Uppercity, and a friend of his. Making a call up, he found that the story was true – and more, that said musician wanted both the lute and Vailarin brought up to the Lock. There, Vailarin met the musician; an old Vortixx, who never revealed his name. In private, he explained to her that the instrument she held was an ancient possession of his from his youth, and that he had been searching for it for many centuries. He told her of the city above; of its affluence and decadence. More importantly, he spoke of the music; how few of the musicians in the Uppercity truly seemed to have the same spark and care for entertainment, instead aimlessly practicing or challenging each other to pointless competitions. They talked for some time on many things, until finally it came time for the musician to part. He took the lute, but rather than leave her with nothing, decided to offer her a reward for her trouble – especially after the beating she took for finding it. In exchange for her service, he would provide her with lessons on the instrument, and other elements of music. As even a passing glance from a member of the Uppercity was amazing, she was more than willing to accept, and allowed to return. For many years, she returned once per week to the Lock (under careful guard), and continued to receive lessons. More so, during her time there, she also made sure to pay attention to anything she could overhear among the Enforcers, trading off that information over a few drinks when not performing. In time, though, her instructor told her that he could no longer continue his lessons; indeed, he was quite sure that he was nearing the end of his days. At this time, he returned to her the lute, now inscribed with this message – “To my most gifted pupil. Let no Enforcer claim this, and let none object to its holding. S.A.”

Instrument in hand, she returned to the Undercity and once again attempted to play. This time, there were no objections from Enforcers, and the attention garnered by the people was far greater. Today, she is the most famed musician (not that competition is large) in the Undercity, and makes enough off of tips and the like to afford room and board at various inns and to keep fed. Which is, unfortunately, more than can be said for most.

Personality: Vailarin has developed a well-deserved reputation of a meddler. Even in her days as a simple singer, she would often get in trouble whilst attempting to investigate or listen in on things where she most certainly didn't belong; other times, she has gotten in fights completely unrelated her in attempts to break them up, often without a proper understanding of the situation. Much of this is tied with her overtly idealistic view of the world; thanks in no small part to the stories of her short-term mentor, she has an overtly romanticized view of the Undercity, seeing it as a place from which roguish heroes might arise to challenge the establishment, rather than the den of thieves and assassins that it is increasingly becoming. Her goals and actions in such a sense are thus quite unrealistic. She's not completely naïve or stupid, of course; her failure to acknowledge the troubles does not mean complete ignorance, and she is willing to back down from situations and, at some level, realizes that there is little hope for the city. Of course, none would know that talking to her – she relies mostly on bravado and a confident demeanor, despite not being a particularly dangerous combatant (it is no surprise that she has a number of songs referencing the exploits of warrior-bards). The occasional success of confidence is often important, as the promise of uncovering a new story or living a new experience can very easily tempt her away from her more or less secure life and into activities far beyond the realm of expertise. But perhaps one day, she hopes, the stories and songs she sing might include something she was there to see.

 

"Now that you know

Your way in this madness

Your powers are gone

Your chains have been broken

You've suffered so long

You will never change"

- Within Temptation, "A Demon's Fate"

 

Name: Tuleron

Species: Kra-Toa; Male

Affiliation: The Upper Citizens / The Commoners

Powers: As a result of his rather unique nature, Tuleron possesses unnatural Elemental Powers of Shadow, which are a product of his willing loss of inner light, combined with latent Psionic abilities. As such, his pool of elemental energy is far less limited, but his ability to manifest it is far diminished (large, area spanning cloaks of shadows, or particularly destructive blasts of shadow energy, are out of the picture). To some extent, he makes up for this with experience. He is otherwise capable of all shadow-related powers, save for his inability to create shadow doors. On the flip side, he has access to the natural mental shields provided by Psionics abilities, and constantly manifests his residual energies in the form of an aura around him. The main function of the aura is that those who see or speak to him are instilled with a (very subtle) sense of trust and comfort by his presence which grows with proximity; this aura also provides him very low-level telepathy which allows him to sub-consciously predict the movements of an enemy who is unaware of this power, giving him improved combat reflexes. Long term exposure to the aura, or repeated exposure by those of vulnerable will, can eventually lead to limited obedience [note – complete PC immunity]. Mental shielding provides complete immunity to all of these abilities.

Equipment: Tuleron wields a thin, double-edged protosteel blade of roughly 1.1 Bio in length. Though not as flexible as a rapier, its ability to twist is far greater than that of most similar weapons. Furthermore, he wears an amulet (concealed, like the sheath of his blade, by his robes) engraved with a Matoran "K" symbol; it acts as his Toa Tool. Also under his robes is a small pack with a few tools, some foodstuffs, a water canteen, a journal with writing utensils, and so forth. He wears the Great Mask of Emulation, which allows the user to copy any power or ability possessed by another being (save for those of Rahi, or from objects [such as Kanohi and weapons]). The length of the process can vary, depending on the complexity of the power.

Skills: While his powers leave much to be desired, Tuleron is skilled with the blade, moving with both quickness and agility. However, he relies more on deception and words than anything else in combat; thus, opponents resistant ot such tricks have a very clear edge against him. Even at his best, though, he is no master swordsman; his actual training is underwhelming, and his knowledge of the “art” of swordplay limited, with experience being his guiding star. His strongest weapon is his words, and his ability to bring others under his cause. He is well versed in the physical and metaphysical nature of Matoran Universe inhabitants, but much of the information he has is a bit behind the curve.

Appearance: Tuleron is noticabely taller than the average Toa, standing at roughly 1.8 Bio in height. His build, however, is like that of a runner, reflecting speed over brute strength. His armor is primarily of a metallic red coloration, though there are secondary streaks of black scattered around the joints and so forth. His eyes and heartlight both glow red; his face and mask alike are both very sharp and angular, with the latter seemingly possessing a permanent smirk plastered across it. His apparent stance matches that of a noble or other powerful figure, and he frequently stands with both hands behind his back. Over his natural armor, he wears a formal black robe capable (with the aid of his psionic field) of allowing him to pass in either high or low society.

Weaknesses: In terms of physical weakness, Tuleron is not very strong, having little brute strength to back him up and relying more on wit and speed. As far his powers go, in addition to the limits listed above, his shadow-tied nature makes him particularly vulnerable to light-based attacks, including artificial varieties. Unlike most Kra-Toa, he is not naturally resistant to shadow based attacks; while he can absorb them, he must actively concentrate in order to do so. Further, it should be noted that his Toa Tool (the amulet) is of far greater import to him than other Toa; without it, his shadow powers are reduced to little more than simple darkness, and his psionic field is completely dissipated until the amulet is returned.

Biography: Once, in the centuries following the Time Slip, a special team of Toa existed known as the Vahtoka ("Spirits of Justice"). Among them was Tuleron, a powerful Ce-Toa and one of the oldest members of the team, to whom many of his fellows looked on for aid. Acting in service to but politically independent from the Turaga of their lands, they soon gained great renown throughout even those beyond for their skill and deeds, attracting many (even non-Toa) to their side, until their company was well over four dozen in number. Over time, Tuleron began to observe a pattern among their more powerful enemies - that many preferred to operate in darkness, or even wield it. As such, he began intensive study on the nature of both light and shadow in the Matoran Universe - both on a physical and elemental level - and on the heavily-debated ideals of its moral affiliation. Still, he continued operate in the field as well, and his continued studies on their adversaries for understanding led him to conclude that many of the issues they encountered could easily be avoided if the Turaga were to simply reform a few simple ideals. Increasingly, he pushed for greater and greater political control over the area, which a number of members of the team (especially newer ones) were eager to go for. His fellow founders, however, found both this ideal and his pursuit of darkness a danger - in particular, when he finally learned how to tap into his own inner light, and began attempts to alter or even remove parts of it. With his own friends seemingly against him, Tuleron finally gave up on their original principles, and immediately called upon the Vahtoka to take power from the Turaga and rule the lands under their just might.

As his influence was far stronger with others than his fellows, and his philosophy widespread at that point, nearly half of the team moved to his side - but not one of the founders. Four of them rallied the others to their side, along with the local guard forces or allies they could tap into; the fifth left in disgust from the whole affair, and vanished. Though the battle was not of a major scale, the use of elemental powers involved and the numerous violations of the Toa code were great, and the whole affair was spread out over many days. As it progressed, Tuleron's studies became increasingly wild, as he attempted to find a true understanding of the inner darkness. By the time it ended, he had already given up much of his inner light; many of his allies had surrendered or fled, believing him mad, and those left could not hold off the push his fellow founders made on the final day. Tuleron was the last to fall on the field, bound in chains of ice and stone as demands were made for him to yield. It was upon his capture that he revealed the true power of shadow he was learning, and releasing it along with his psionic abilities in an attempt to overwhelm them. While other violations had been made, the Toa Code was never so scorned as the moment when he finally murdered one of his former teammates; something he had never intended. In shock, he fled.

For centuries, Tuleron continued to haunt the Universe, unseen by all but the other three, who pursued him from island to island. Realizing he could not run forever, he began to gather his own allies in odd places, through both trickery and complete mental domination. As time passed, and he slowly surrendered more of his moral light, his powers over both darkness and the mind began to grow. Finally, the day came when Tuleron had assembled so great a force to gather at his call that on Oltpo Shelek (the "Silent Peak") he met his old team in the final battle. With little in the realms of powers, elemental or otherwise, spread amongst them, his forces alone were no match for three Toa, regardless of the Code they followed. Still, with his assistance, the battle seemed decided; that was until the final member of the team made his reappearance, joining his brothers and sister to finally end what they had begun.

Finally, Tuleron was brought to his knees and bound; there would be no chance for escape this time. It was then that they revealed to him their own secrets that they had learned, channeling their elemental and Toa powers alike into a draining force. All but traces of his psionic powers were ripped from him, channeled along with those of the other four into a five-part Toa Seal. Without a sixth source of power behind it, the seal was temporary; all four knew this. It was decided, however, that they would hold their posts at Oltpo Shelek, using what remained of their Toa Power to bind him in place. In time, a small village grew around it, and the four Toa one-by-one became Turaga, holding the seal through the last means they had; their life force, used as a substitute. As the fourth finally fell, she passed on the knowledge to an apprentice, and he to to his. But it would not last forever.

Tens of thousands of years passed, each moment passing with Tuleron only vaugely aware of the world around him. The day came, however, when he no longer felt anything – the Great Cataclysm. The temple had mostly collapsed, killing all within and destroying much of the surrounding area. Though his prison was partially cracked, he was still not fully free; as more time passed, his awareness grew, and he reached out. He attempted to call out to the world by tapping into the psionic energy in the prison, but to no avail; all his muffled cry did was lead to rumors that the area was haunted. No, it would be one thousand years later that he would attain freedom; when the Matoran Universe it collapsed, and the waning seal finally snapped, freeing him from his prison. Yet with all that had happened, he found himself faced with a great shock – outside of his residual power, hovering constantly about him from his time spent in the prison, his psionic potential was gone; more so, without the extra reserves of elemental energy, his ability to use his shadow powers was no longer complete. Not completely aware of how much time had passed, he stepped onto Spherus Magna unsure of the world around; and from there, he disappeared from history.

Fast forward some time to the foundation of the City in the Stars, where his natural charisma and smooth talking were among his many advantages in claiming a spot of high society. A common attendee of parties, his main claim to fame is as a well-known writer of the series Vahtoka, a highly exaggerated retelling of his old teams experiences from the third person (one viewed by most as fiction, of course). His second is as a therapist, dealing with the troubles of other members of high society; it is in this role where he works his main scheme – securing power in the City in the Stars by manipulating various members of the upper class and putting them under his control. Of course, recent events have convinced him that wealth and control alone may not be enough; with the recent appearance of the Demons, he has descended into the Land of Night and begun his investigations there, to learn more of the Demons which are plaguing the city – their powers, their motivations, and (if possible) a way to control them.

Personality: The main element of Tuleron's personality is a smile; the second is what he hides underneath it. He is quite affable on the outside, joking around with others and complementing them upon things. However, he is both very proud and very jealous; those who show talents beyond his own he resents greatly, as he views himself as being superior in all affairs. This will not manifest in outright hatred; his actions are subtle, and generally things which can be interpreted as accidental. He desires power for the sake of his personal happiness, believing that it can elevate his position and thus a greater life; on its own, a commensal goal, but one which becomes far darker when his true character is allowed to bleed through. He demands that his requests be obeyed, and accepts nothing less than absolute domination of others. Underneath everything, there are still some elements of morality hidden away - he detests most criminal activity, finding thieves and their ilk a particularly disgusting and pitiful bunch, and looks down on blatant murder; lives do have their value, even if his has the most. He particularly dislikes killing other Toa, as they remind him too much of his old team, and will never do so until opportunity has been given to bring them to his side (against other "immortal" Toa, whose actions do not mark them as such, such qualms are lifted; however, particularly heroic non-Toa may be viewed as such). Excepting his very limited moral compass and love of tampering with the emotions of others, he's a fine guest at most any dinner party.

Edited by Toa Levacius Zehvor

"I disapprove of what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it."


- Evelyn Beatrice Hall (often attributed to Voltaire)

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Name: Kratt


Species: Male Po-Matoran


Affiliation: In theory unaffiliated, in practice most of the gangs


Powers: None


Gear: A small baton he filled with an electric charge(acts similar to a stun gun), a two-handed(rifle) explosive projectile launcher, and a workshop full of mechanical bits.


Skills: Kratt is a brilliant mechanical engineer and inventor, and is quite knowledgeable about weapons and warfare. He's fairly stealthy as well.


Weaknesses: Kratt is physically delicate and weak, and despite his interest in battles, tends to freeze up when participating in them himself. He also cannot resist the urge to show off his technology, which can make him quite foolish when asked to do so.


Appearance: Kratt is average looking in nearly every way for a matoran. He has painted his armour dark grey to blend in to his surroundings when he's outside, and wears a Kanohi Huna.


History: Kratt has been a popular figure in the criminal underworld for a long while. He will often sell new inventions and tech he's repaired to the gangs, with some of his customers even bringing in salvaged things for him to tinker with. The police have known of his existence for a while, but not what he looks like, and he has attracted the hatred of many of them for doing things like 'giving the gangs plasma guns' and 'indirectly blowing up half the street'.


Personality‏: Kratt is a very enthusiastic, laidback and genuinely nice person when not working, and can talk for hours about subjects that interest him(much to the annoyance of those around him). When working, however, he has no time for small talk, and will not tolerate the presence of people who aren't helping.


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Name: Vynsehnt Lu

Species: Male Cybernetically enhanced Glatorian

Affiliation: Undercity Police

Powers: None

Gear: Vynsehnt wears a rhotuka launcher permanently attached to his arm. The launcher fires a rhotuka with impact powrers. This rhotuka gets larger the farther it travels, so at long enogh ranges (around 1/8) of a mile, it becomes a moving wall. However, the larger ir gets, the less push it exerts on stuff it hits, so once it gets far enough (1/4) of a mile, it will stop automatically. It can also be stopped if it hits sonething it can't push over (like a building). This rhotuka can stop physical projectiles but does nothing for energy based attacks. Like all rhotuka, the projectile's trajectory can be guided with his mind. Vynsehnt also carries a handgun (similar to an M1911) if he needs to deal a decisive blow and a short sword for close combat. He will sometimes drive an armored Thornatus for assault purposes.

Skills: Vynsehnt has never been one for negotiation and crisis diffusing. As such, he's the guy they call when they know that the situation can't be salvaged. He specializes in taking down hostiles quickly and efficiently.

Weaknesses: Due to the nature of his weaponry, Vynsehnt specializes in long range combat, only falling back on his sword if everything else fails. While he is no slouch when it comes to hand to hand, he just doesn't cut it against more experienced foes. Close the gap and your changes of defeating him go up exponentially. As well, he has no real powers or resistance to any of them.

Appearance: Vynsehnt would look like a normal Glatorian if not for his many visible cybernetic implants on his arms and legs. Smooth metal plating covers patches of his otherwise organic body, and his arms are permanently encased in mechanical sleeves. Here's an MOC I slapped together in a hurry.

History: Vynsehnt was once a citizen of the City in the Sky, living a bornal life until the first of the Demons came. He became a member of the Enforcers, working on missions with the group until he was fatally wounded and left for dead. Found by the Undercity's police, he was "fixed" and became a member of the Police force, helping to maintain order like he used to do...

Personality‏: Quiet, asocial, and very stoic, Vynsehnt isn't the warmest person to be around, seeming almost like a Vahki into terms of personality. Some suspect this to be due to brain damage, others believe he was just born that way; nevertheless, he is how he is: deal with it.

Edited by Last Son Amakusa
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Name: Zaak



Species: Male Toa of Plasma



Affiliation: Undercity Police



Powers: Elemental control over Plasma and all that entails (plasmatic blasts, melting most substances, resistance to high temperatures, etc), ability to divine falsehoods through mask.



Gear: Great Mask of Truth, a well-kept metal staff with protosteel short sword blades on each end, small explosive projectile launcher.



Skills: First and foremost, Zaak is a fighter. He has reflexes that have been described as ‘catlike’, and is a crack shot with most ranged weapons. He excels in close quarters, particularly against a single combatant. He also is skilled at parkour, and is a fast runner.



Weaknesses: Over thinks situations, powers run out of control if angry, difficulty focusing on multiple problems at once, not quite the strongest (physically) Toa out there.



Appearance: Zaak has white armor with orange highlights. Said armor is dented and nicked, but mostly in good repair. He is tall and lanky, without much visible muscle. His mask has an orange stripe down its middle, and his eyes are a deep blue. He stands with good posture, but slouches a bit when he sits. His mask, though it is a Rhode, is shaped like a Kualsi.



History: Before joining the police force, Zaak ran a self-defense dojo. He taught the value of speed and precision over strength. However, he was cornered in a back alley by a gang someone trained by him in his dojo had crossed in a bad way. One pulled a gun, and quickly found himself and his gang flat on the ground with their target gone. He returned to his dojo, only to find it burned to the ground. In order to gain the means for legal revenge, he has joined the police force, intent on finding the gang who destroyed his livelihood. Since joining, he has quickly become one of the most effective officers in the force because he always, always tries to get the job done.



Personality: Zaak is a very intelligent individual, but tries to hide it in order to fit in. He doesn't like to stand out, but that can’t be helped based on his job. He is one of the few police officers that actually cares about the small things. He constantly patrols, looking for anything he feels he should help with, be it a stolen wallet or a wounded civilian or stopping a robbery. He has been chastised several times for “wasting police hours”. Several times, he has replied, “try to stop me”. He hasn't been fired for this simply because his success rate is among the highest in the force. He mostly dislikes ranged combat in general, although he sees the necessity, and wishes that the citizens he swore to protect (there was no oath, so he made one up) will someday be able to walk in the light of day.


Edited by sonyaxe
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Name: Horic

 

Species: Male Toa of Iron

 

Affiliation: Darkblades gang leader; the Commoners

 

Powers: Elemental control of Iron, Arthron and inate increased endurance(elemental Trait).

 

Gear: A double-bladed Battleaxe. Horic has done repairs on it countless times with any available material, and as such it is an object of personal attachment. If the situation calls for it, he uses an assault rifle, 20 rounds in a magazine, 6 magazines on his person. Horic also has a portable handheld Rhotuka Launcher which has two firing modes: Default energy, or the spinner causes the target to lose control of their limbs for a dozen or so seconds. Horic carries flint and steel(in case he cannot materialise steel for whatever reason), some water and pieces of tough Nui-Jaga meat.

 

Skills: Having fought in countless wars, Horic has a tactician's mind, capable of analysing problems quickly. Although his preferred weapon is his Battleaxe 'Doubletooth', he is equally adept at almost all kinds of melee weapons.

 

Weaknesses: Horic is not from stealthy or nimble. He is also getting on with his years, and doubts of his effectiveness frequently come to mind. He is also only beginning to settle in as leader of a gang.

 

Appearance: Horic is a grizzled and worn veteran, and as a result he is tall and strong, even if he is a bit old. He wears mostly burnt orange armour, which has numerous little scratches on it and miscoloured patches from his past wanderings. His mask is less angular than might be expected of an Arthron, although it is still recognisable as an Arthron.

 

History: Horic has lived in the city for the large bulk of his life. After the Fall of Makuta, Horic settled for a life of peace in The City. Given his defence of the world in the war, he was entitled to a place in the City in the Stars, but he eschewed it in favour of living with the common man.

 

His powers saw good use in helping construct the Undercity, and he started retreating into anonymity, against the advice of close friends. However when gang struggles started to turn into an eternal war, Horic resurfaced as a non-allied agent. He did his best to safeguard civilians(if you can call them that) while not antagonising any of the gangs.

 

That all changed when the monsters appeared. Horic was present when an old friend of his, a gang leader, died to protect the citizens in his turf in a skirmish between the Enforcers and the Monsters. The friend, in his dying breath, recognised Horic and pleaded with him to take over his gang upon his death and stop both the monsters and the upper city from oppressing the residents.

 

Now the leader of the Darkblades, Horic strives to keep the gang under discipline and to stop the monsters, those below and above the Undercity.

 

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"Even if I never find the memories I have lost, I'll keep fighting to protect the memories of others!"

 

Name: Naona

Species: Male Toa

Affiliation: Undercity Police

Powers: Mask of Laser Vision; Elemental Power of Stone

Gear: Staff; Telescopic Visor/Laserbeam Focuser; Firework Revolver

Skills: While a highly competent police officer and well-rounded fighter, Naona is also a skilled administrator.

Weaknesses: Naona lacks some of the extra strength that most Toa of Stone possess. He is also sleep-deprived at times, leading to groggier reaction speeds.

Appearance: Compared to his compatriots, Naona is slightly shorter, possessing a sleeker-looking build that seems to focus on speed. His armour's colour scheme consists mostly of browns (excepting his dull silver arms, one of which is heavily armoured and contains his revolver), with his torso, shoulders and legs a light brown, while his mask and gauntleted hands a darker shade. At times he wears a telescopic visor as well, the black object allowing his golden eyes to see further and also focus the powers of his Mask of Laser Vision.

History: Naona can't remember his past. He knows nobody who can tell him who he was before he was Naona. He doesn't even think that's his real name. He only remembers waking up in a garbage bin, with nothing but a once-beautiful staff, dulled from aeons of conflict. Yet even without memories, the young Toa took to the streets as a vigilante, a burning passion for justice awakening within his soul. He may not know why he has such a feminine name. He may not know why he is here, in the chaos that is the Undercity. But he knows that he will fight for order, and now, a member of the Police, hopes to reform it into a true organisation for justice.

Personality‏: Although quite a reserved person, Naona possesses a warmth that is not usually found in such dedicated warriors of justice. He is dedicated to keeping order in the city and making sure that its citizens can live to smile another day, and as such works incredibly hard to protect the innocent, no matter how much harm he takes. Indeed, the Toa of Stone is an incredibly intense man, noble in demeanour and highly dutiful. However, he can be quite reckless in his pursuit of crime, especially when in lack of sleep, and is rather dangerous when not in his usual state of mind.

Edited by Fabulous Sunshine
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Ugggh.

 

Name: Bolt.

Species: Male Toa of Magnetism.

Affiliation: Unaffiliated Courier. Works for whoever pays him.

Powers: Magnetism Elemental, Uses a Kanohi Kakama (Speed).

Gear: Sometimes wears a satchel.

Skills: Running, Insulting, looking good, getting angry.

Weaknesses: Easily angered, while great at unarmed combat he may be easily defeated with weaponry

Appearance: A toa with a Kakama, with amazing looks and stuff. Brown in colour.

History: Someone who's always been living in the undercity, Bolt made a name for himself by looking good being a really good runner, tight-lipped about messages, and never caught by mobsters or the police.

Personality‏: A narcissist with an attitude. Bolt is arrogant, cocky, and obsessed with himself. If someone came along that looked exactly like them, he'd marry them in an instant. That said, he always has a mirror on him, ready to gawk at his magnificent face. He's known also for his foul temperament, easily insulted, rash to action, and quick to insult anyone. He's kinda a dick.

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Name: Volin


Species: Demon


Affiliation: Unknown


 


Powers: As a former Toa of fire, Volin's element has been modified into something more sinister and dark. The flames at his disposal are now black and seem to suck in light rather than radiate it, consuming matter and rotting it rather than burn it. His second power is energy absorption via physical contact with his claws or fangs, essentially feeding his body as sustenance, healing him and making him stronger. He can also use shadows as a means of transportation.


Gear: Wings, claws and fangs.


Skills: Demon stuff.


 


Weakness: Volin's plagued by a constant hunger, driving him to feed continuously on people's life energy to sustain him. The more he feeds, the stronger he becomes but the longer he goes without "food", the weaker he gets and the more desperate he becomes.


 


Appearance: Few beings manage to match Volin's height, even the tallest of Vortixxes. Humanoid in shape, he vaguely resembles a Toa of shadow but his features resemble that of a monster. His mouth is lined with fangs half the size of daggers, razor sharp claws protrude from his fingers and wings of terrifying magnificence drape his back. In his usual state, when his appetite has been sated, he boasts a defined musculature conveying incredible strength but the longer he goes without feeding, the more his body recedes into the state of a corpse, muscles and skin withering until they remain stretched thin over his ragged bones. 


 


History: Born into poverty, Volin struggled like many of those who lived in the Undercity and took whatever job came his way. At one point in his life, he turned to robberies as a means of making profit, which eventually led him to run with the gangs for a while. When things started getting out of hand, he left his life of crime behind, though not without a certain reputation following him. Now, he tries to keep things on the down low, avoiding the authorities while he makes a living as a mechanic. Demon stuff happened one day at work and now he's a Demon doing Demon stuff.


Personality: Volin's plagued by a voracious hunger, often resulting in feeding to be his number one priority. He retains all the intelligence he once possessed as a Toa, though his mind's been warped into something more savage and sinister.


Edited by TX Wade
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Pre-approved by Gravity.


Name: Maest, more often adressed as “The Black Killer”


Species: Male Toa of Fire.


Affiliation: The Black Toa.

Powers: Very limited abilities of Fire Element:

- Creating minuscule amount of fire and heat.

- Manipulating existing fire and heat.

- Absorbing fire and heat.

Kanohi Sanok shaped in Kanohi Matatu, with lens that allows immense zoom capabilities, as well as precision, target marking, reading heat signatures and infrared vision.


Gear: Military grade sniper rifle, knife, and metal ptorodermis armor, spare Kanohi Suletu, powerless.


Skills: Highly skilled sniper and assassin.


Weaknesses: Melee combat, exposure to cold energies, mortality.


Appearance: Typical Toa build, armor is colored in black and dark red. Strong hands and upper body, proportional enough face to look pretty for bystanders. Eyes are orange, but when wearing Matatu change to crimson because of colored lenses.


History: Was training in military departments of Upper City until contracted a disease. It made his element go out of control, in first few weeks Maest was making things around him experience random combustion, which got him expelled from military training. Next few months he spent in clinic, trying to battle strange condition, but to no luck. His element ceased to work, to an extent he wasn't able to create it anymore, if only in very limited amounts. Weakened and depressed, he left clinic to pursue own goals, which were twisted by his banishment from military and society because of disease. He turned to work as a mercenary, specifically as killer, and soon made a name for himself, hiding behind another mask.


Personality‏: Not a talkative fellow, smokes a lot. Keeps to himself, very bitter because of his past, so he doesn't have much friends besides his “partners” from Black Toa. Enjoys his work and watching fire burn. Has social anxiety disorder and is prone to self harm.

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[both profiles are approved by Gravity]

 

Name: Kahlahnee [Kahi-lah-ni] - "A great expert", more often addressed as 'The Cursed One'.

Species: Male Toa of Ice

Affiliation: He is his own boss, affilliated to his own little group.

Powers: Full spectrum of Elemental Ice abilities: he can absorb and create ice of various shapes and forms, he can manipulate weather in such fashion to summon or restrain a blizzard, he also can lower the temperature in a few bio around him. Mask of Suffering (in form of lensless Matatu): causes phantom pain to target without actually hurting it physically. However, pain is so real, it makes target suffer and soothes Kahlahnee's own pain.

Gear: Blade and Xian-tech laser pistol that works from a shard of Lightstone and a system of lens that focuses the beam and made in form of human-world flintlock pistol.

Skills: As his name suggests, he's exceptionally skilled in many spheres, has a great expertise in everything that includes hostage capture, terrorism, extremism on the racial basis and causing a lot of trouble to law enforcers.

Weaknesses: His own Mask causes him phantom pain. However, he wears it long anough and got used to this side-effect, but it still makes him a bit clumsy.

Appearance: As any member of his group, Kahlahnee wears a black trenchcoat that hides his true colors. His Mask is skillfully paint in black that way it's not changes it's color under his Elemental Power's influence. Has burnt-orange eyes.

History: Kahlahnee's Mask was forged by Karzahni himself. He is a runaway convict that managed to escape Karzahni quite some time ago. Most of his history is covered in shadow not because there's nothing to tell, but because he was hiding and traveling and terrorizing matoran and pissing off everyone else. Before going to Karzahni, he was over-exciteable even for those of same Elemental Affinity, and at some point he lost control over himself and killed his close friend, a Toa of Water. He then fled to Karzahni to bring himself before it's master and his justice. After his escape many years after, and some time spent unnoticed, he appeared in the Upper City in company of his friend Polymorph, and they decided that this is a good place to begin with. So they formed their own group called The Black Toa and offered their services to anybody in need. And their services were quite specific...

Personality‏: He never smiles, very grumpy and serious. He's not a bad guy by nature, but given that he already killed once, he can do it again. His Mask also brought him some sociopathic traits like sadism and excessive cruelty. Also, still blames himself for losing control over his temper back the day so nowadays he prefers not to. Has a habit to smoke alot, likes strong drinks but is able to have just enough of them to relax.

 

Name: Polymorph

Species: Gendefluid and Pansexual Toa of Magnetism

Affiliation: The Black Toa

Powers: Elemental Magnetic powers: ability to polarize, increase and decrease magnetic field of any object susceptible to magnetic forces, ability to manipulate with metallic objects by means of magnetizing them, ability to invert polarities into vulnerable electric circuitry. Mahiki, Mask of Illusion. Pretty much like Matau used it in LoMN movie: making himself appear and feel like other person. Able to change his own appearance to melt into the crowd.

Gear: Glaive (pole-arm, not boomerang-like), short-range tazer.

Skills: Deceptive and seductive agent, Polymorph's skills are all about getting someone's trust in order to obtain money, equipment or just valuable items. The Black Toas' major spy and listener. Pretty believable actor.

Weaknesses: Egocentric, some parts of his costume and body does not change with his appearance.

Appearance: In his basic appearance Polymorph looks like a tall and lean Toa in black Mahiki and black Protodermis armor. However, he has a distinctive detail that prevails in every appearance he might take: violet armor bits on knees and elbows. Also he does not have his pinky and fourth finger on his left hand. Such injury even Mahiki could not conceal.

History: A great actor that lives all for himself. All world is a stage. It's fun to change his appearance, it's interesting to be genderfluid. He finds amusing to take and play a form of a naive girl to gain some Toa's trust. And then that Toa is left without anything in his pocket. Ah, the times... For now Polymorph sticks with Kahlahnee. He likes that guy. Like, really. And he will be with him until the very end.

Personality‏: Polymorph is a pompous, impudent man. He likes to show-off, and when he's in his original form, he likes to be loud, annoying, but still kinda charming. Also, despite the fact that he likes Kahlahnee, in most situations he's an attention magnet and leaves no space for his grim companion. Likes to flirt with men when takes female form. Hates the lack of attention, especially when flirting with someone who is not interested.

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Pre-approved by Mr. Gravs McScience

 

Name: Kaiota Manawa

Species: Female Zyglak

Affiliation: Self / (Whatever Gang can afford her)

Powers: Elemental Invulnerability (to be more precise, any matter or energy conjured, controlled, or otherwise even slightly tainted by elemental energy, is negated and nullified upon contact with Kaiota's person), Organics-consuming plague upon physical contact (modifications of Kaiota allow her to control and maintain the release of the plague, so it isn't incessantly released).

Gear: Kaiota carries a powerful Lupara-esque firearm, as well as an assortment of varied ammo, as her primary weapon. She also caries an Energy Siphon Blade, for melee purposes.

Skills: Combat, first and foremost, but also stealth, espionage, and an assortment of other skills required for an Assassin / Cleaner.

Weaknesses: Kaiota is forced to be an entirely defensive fighter without her weapons, and has several inherent disadvantages against most other combatants (most notably her lack of options, highly effective measures against mechanical opponents, and environmental control). Besides that, she's missing her right hand's index and middle fingers, so she can't fire her firearm with that hand.

Appearance: Considerably taller than most and as imposing as one would expect, Kaiota is a heavily muscled being, yet surprisingly lithe and agile. Her organics are a shadowy grey, and her mechanics a dull, washed-out blue, complimented by eyes that are glistening shadows of utter darkness. Her reptilian nature is reflected in her cold and efficient taste in fashion; she dresses in dark grey utiliarian armour (leather, and kevlar-esque plastic in areas of vital combat importance) in preparation for combat.

History: A criminal by trade, Kaiota has been one of the most efficient and expensive assassins in the entirety of the City, and has a history of success and heartless, logical extermination. Her services have been purchased by (and targeted at) crimelords from both above and below The Lock, and, despite their best efforts, has yet to be successfully defeated by Enforcers.

Personality‏: Kaiota is taciturn and efficient, but occasionally displays a darkly humorous perception of her environment. Her emotionless is only limited by her ability to enjoy what she perceives as beautifully, and almost always darkly, ironic.

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Pre-approved.

 

>Accessing Enforcer database…

 

 

 

>File corrupted. Hyperlinks severed. Partial recovery possible.

 

>Recover? Y/N

 

>Y

 

>Recovery 7% complete.

 

Name: Firen

Species: Toa

 

>Remaining data corrupted. Please contact district overseer for assistance.

 

….

 

Personal Records of Firen Eltair, Sealed Second Year Post-Appearance

 

Affiliation: Police/Unaffiliated

Powers: As the first successful subject of an Enforcer project, Firen has been modified extensively from his original existence. These alterations were, primarily, to the nervous system, resulting in several changes.

-Elemental Power; Data: The first synthetic element, Firen has the capability to manipulate and control electronics, primarily by manipulating the mechanisms that would operate them. This is most evident with regard to digital electronics; Computers and similar devices are child’s play to access and manipulate, and as such, significant amounts of information is accessible to him that would otherwise be barred. Even transmissions and data from the Upper City are accessible, though doing so is more difficult than the telecommunications of the Undercity. More mundanely, he can influence devices such as street lights and vehicles, though his influence over such is quite limited.

-Enhanced Neural Response: The implants designed to allow the subject to access, interface, and properly interpret digital signals resulted in an unexpected benefit. The modified individual’s mind works at a much more rapid rate than an unmodified individual, increasing reaction times and allowing the subject to process information at an incredibly rapid rate. The latter is most useful in making rapid assessments, and the former for acting upon those assessments, as well as reacting in a combat situation.

-Mental Resistance: Another boon, though more expected, is a side effect of the changes to the subject’s mind. Due to the enhanced neural responses, the subject’s brain not only works much faster than that of a normal individual, but rather differently. As a result, the subject has demonstrated an increased resistance to Kanohi that affect the mind, and a significantly boosted resistance to active mental intrusion; Intruders, be they Ce-Toa or acting with a Kanohi such as the Komau, seem unable to process the responses made by the subject’s mind, allowing highly decreased vulnerability.

Gear:

-Visor; Computerized display, used to project the information Firen is accessing for easier viewing. Not strictly necessary, but helpful.

-Coat; Woven with anti-ballistic material within it, the garment provides a degree of protection from firearms. Highly ineffective against high-power projectiles.

-Dual pistols; Decent power, easy to draw and fire.

-Simple, unadorned straight sword, sheathed on the back.

Skills: Firstly, of course, Firen is a highly skilled hacker and computer repair technician. The latter is his more known skillset, the former the force behind his nocturnal activities. Unbeknownst to most of his colleagues, he is also a skilled combatant; Due to his enhancements, he can respond faster than unenhanced combatants, giving him an edge in melee combat as well as ranged. One could not accuse him, however, of fighting fair; Indeed, fighting dirty is one of the primary reasons he occasionally to overcome those who are technically more skilled than him. Decent at hand to hand combat, a much better swordsman than a melee combatant.

Weaknesses: For all the benefits of Firen’s modifications, several downsides have been noted. Firstly, the use of Data as an element has few combat applications, barring certain circumstances. It is primarily useful as a surveillance or information gathering technique. In the few times that it is useful as a combat ability, it is most often indirectly, by influencing the environment rather than influencing events directly. Additionally, the procedure has left the subject without access to his Kanohi powers.

 

Secondly, and most notably, the subject is increasingly susceptible to magnetism. Concentrated magnetic fields can disrupt the operation of his implants, rendering his powers inaccessible to him until they can compensate. An electromagnetic pulse, if one knew to generate it, would knock them out entirely for several minutes, once again, until they could compensate. During that timespan, his abilities would be brought down to that of an athletic individual.

Appearance: Much of the time, Firen’s appearance is truly… Average. Nondescript. Though mildly handsome, he’s not very far out of the ordinary for his species. By all appearances, he’s merely a run-of-the-mill Toa of Iron, with naturally gunmetal gray armor coupled with black highlights here and there. Of slightly over average height, he wears a silver Kanohi Hau, behind which a pair of dark green eyes peer inquisitively. More often than note, he has a battered and rugged old computer tucked under one arm, and an eclectic collection of related repair tools clipped to his waist, alongside his police identification. He’s reasonably athletic, after all, the people that aren’t don’t usually last long in the Undercity.

 

This is only how he appears during his time at work. When he ventures out during his… Less-than-approved activities, he tends to don a long gray coat just large enough to obscure the exact size of his frame, as well as conceal any items on his person. A battered green visor covers the upper portion of his face. Bits of information tend to flit across said visor, too obscured to properly be made out by an outside observer, and half-covered by the brim of his hat.

History: Firen Eltair, for the majority of his existence, has been a singularly unlucky individual. Living in abject poverty, even for the Lower City, he was constantly trying to turn enough of a profit to live by through repairs of electronics and their resale. Occasionally, though he hated to do it, he turned to less… Legal means. Without many other options, he did what he could to scrape together enough money for a meal. What he couldn’t buy, he stole. What he couldn’t steal… He traded for, and he didn’t ask too many questions about where it came from. Such an existence does not continue without repercussions, not forever, and he was eventually picked up by an Enforcer. Ironically, the Enforcer’s business in the Lower City didn’t have anything to do with him; He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rather than lock him up, the Enforcer gave him a choice.

 

In the Upper City, an experiment had been started, to try, through the use of modifications, to create the perfect law enforcer. In exchange for volunteering to be subjected to the modifications, he would be fed, clothed, and, assuming he survived the procedure, be released back into the Lower City. The project was highly classified, and it wasn’t even expected that he’d survive the procedure. The coordinators of the project assumed, most likely, that even if he did survive to be released, he would be easy to keep tabs on; After all, they had him on file. They knew everything about him. Logically, he should never have been able to hide. So the project went on, and eventually, the day came for the procedure. To say that it was dangerous would be an understatement; The surgeons and engineers were toying with his brain, portions of his physiology not entirely understood, in an attempt to modify one of the most basic components of his nature; His element. At several points during the operation it was believed he would not make it; His pulse flatlined several times, interruptions in brain activity, and even when he awoke, there was a very real chance that the modifications would not take, or would drive him mad.

 

Indeed, when he regained consciousness, it was believed that they had failed. The Toa was entirely unresponsive for several hours, barring the most basic of cognitive reactions. All of his life signs were normal, so the only conclusion that they could reach was that the implants had affected his mind. However, not long before they were prepared to label the experiment a failure, he awoke. Not only was his mind intact, it seemed enhanced; Subsequent testing would determine the exact effects that the implants had caused, and before long, the Upper City made good on its word and returned him to the Lower levels, a few day’s worth of money in hand. The project should have continued, and monitoring of the subject, as well; Except not long after he was released, every piece of data on him vanished. Name, identity, the procedure; The Enforcers had scarcely cared about what his name was, and now all of the information was gone as if it never existed. Not that it truly mattered; Firen changed his name when he returned, manufactured believable records, and started anew. He purchased a small living space, and offered his services to the police, no one the wiser about his abilities. This simple life continued for a time, but for reasons unknown, he found he could no longer tolerate the state of affairs in the Lower City. This was around the time that he began putting his newfound abilities to use. Less cautious gangs soon found themselves host to an unknown vigilante, one that knew things he shouldn’t, one utterly dedicated to the systematic dismantling of their activities. Attempted muggings, from time to time, were disurpted, assaults, and all manner of aggressive crimes. Neither the criminals, nor the police, could seem to amass any solid information on the perpetrator’s identity. Not that the police much cared.

 

Though they would never admit it, the Enforcers were at a loss as well. The vast majority of them hadn’t known of the attempted project, and the few that did had no reliable leads on Firen’s new identity. He had become, for all intents and purposes, a ghost in the system, completely unknown to anyone of importance.

Personality‏: For the most part, Firen is a friendly individual, and about as far from threatening as it gets. Most of his days are spent as the Police’s sole real IT employee, keeping every even remotely electronic device running as best he can. Though visitors to his offices are often treated to a dose of dry (attempted) wit. Less often demonstrated, however, is a singularly strong desire to look after those unable to look after themselves, and punish those who would take advantage of them. While the two usually exist in perfect harmony, there are points during his nocturnal activities that one would almost believe that an entirely different person was in charge; When the situation demands, his actions can be based in shockingly cold, analytical logic, maximized to protect and punish as necessary.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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“I lived through the Cataclysm.
I helped make this world a Utopia.
I built this city, and by the Great Beings I’ll tear it down.”

-One of Sai’kun’s many rants

Name: Sai’kun

Species: Male Ta-Matoran

Affiliation: Being disillusioned due to the history of the city, Sai’kun does not really trust anyone but himself.

Powers: Intelligence bordering on the edge of insanity and heat resistance.

Gear: A small forge hammer and an ancient akilini disk launcher with various disks depending on the situation. However, due to his lack of a decent forge, he only has access to level four to five disks on average, although he did make a level 8 disk at one point through sheer luck. He has most types of disks stored away in some hidey-holes around the city. In addition, he has various gadgets and gismos such as weak cloaking device and a jump pack, but more often than not, they explode. In addition, Sai’kun has a few flash grenades to get him out of sticky situations.

Skills: Years of living in this city have taught him the art of guerilla warfare. He usually likes to strike quickly and unexpectedly from the shadows with a few shots from a disk, throwing a flash grenade, and running like Kharzani is behind him. He also loves tinkering, and is bent on finding a way to easily destroy Vahki and the monsters, although his plasma weaponry prototypes are too unstable to even pick up at the moment. However, if he feels that somebody is committing a crime, he will come out of the shadows yelling and shooting a never-ending stream of disks and grenades. He also can make kanoka disks and hopes to someday make a noble mask that he could use.

Weaknesses: Like every other matoran, Sai’kun does not stack up well in close combat. Using his hammer is more of a last resort rather than a true battle tactic. He will also do anything to help anyone, even if it means certain death for him. This has been used against him quite a few times, as he will walk into a trap, no matter how obvious it is, in order to save someone from danger. So far, he has been able to fight his way out, but he is afraid that probability will eventually catch up to him.

Appearance: Rusty red armor with a mechanically augmented right arm. His right hand is little more than an empty socket where he can attach his hammer, launcher, or other tool depending on the situation.

History: Sai’kun always wanted to be a Toa in order to defend the helpless and uphold the law. He became a great mask maker, hoping that one day he could be powerful enough to use one. However, as the years passed and nobody came rushing up to him with a Toa stone, Sai’kun believed that the only way to help people was through politics. For a while, he served on the city council in order to make make the city the utopia it once was. Feeling satisfied, he retreated back into the lower levels to live out the rest of his days in peace, knowing that what he did was right. However, once social classes began to develop, he became disillusioned with the entire power structure and led a revolt against the upper levels. During the battle, a Vakhi’s uncharged staff cut off his right arm, forcing him to retreat into the shadows. He stayed in hiding for years after that, his intelligence becoming insanity and his desire to do good becoming a burning hatred towards the upper levels. Sai’kun remained in the shadows for many years, until the monsters began to attack. Realizing that these creatures just might be enough to destroy the city and are putting people in danger, Sai’kun now emerges from the shadows to help people, albeit in a highly destructive way.

 

Personality‏: Sai’kun is a matoran of contradictions. He hates the people who obsessed with the vices of the upper city (drinking, murdering, and women) and will attempt to kill them on sight, yet he will help anyone in trouble no matter what the cost. This split between his hatred and his sense of duty to behave like a Toa causes him to be unpredictable in the heat of battle, and depending on how he is feeling, he can be a savior or a menace. He judges people by what he notices, and is brutally honest when pointing out character flaws. In fact, when he sees someone who has too much hubris, he goes into an insane rage and will not stop ranting and shooting until the adversary is down.

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Name: Kelko

Species: Male Ba-Toa

Affiliation: Neutral

Powers: Kanohi Calix, Abilities granted as a Toa of Gravity, his winning smile

Gear: His (un)trusty revolver, and two dual-blade switchblades

Skills: Being generally charming and such; he's also quite agile, and very quick - especially on the draw

Weaknesses: Beneath the charming smile lays an injured being - both mentally and physically. A significant 'event' in his personal history changed him forever. He was wounded in a gunfight, and has been suffering from his still-present internal injuries ever since. He suffers on the mental side as well - sleep brings him horrible nightmares, so he has turned to a life of insomnia and drinking.

Appearance: Very neutral in build - not overly muscular, nor too lithe and thin. Usually wearing a long, brown overcoat, very worn, and a matching wide-brimmed hat to boot, which shades over his eyes. Beneath the clothing he wears black armor over his purple limbs.

History: A terrible memory in his past, involving someone he trusted and a fateful gunfight, threw Kelko into a world of despair. In constant agony, Kelko has been wandering the streets ever since - either looking for trouble or trying to avoid it.

Personality‏: Very charismatic and charming on the outside, this warm and bubbly personality is only but a mask (no pun intended) for his true self, buried underneath the layers of armor and fabric.

Edit: Modified slightly (two words) to account for current behavior.

Edited by EternalShadow
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  • 3 weeks later...

“There are two freedoms — the false, where a man is free to do what he likes; the true, where a man is free to do what he ought.” 


 


- Charles Kingsley


 


Name: Kyra Kotanna


Species: Skakdi of Water, Female


Affiliation: The Enforcers


Powers: Elemental control over water, when in conjunction with another Skakdi; X-ray and telescopic vision; as well as heightened senses of hearing and smell.


Gear: Protosteel Dane axe, with an oak haft, shortened so that it needs to be wielded with only one hand


Skills: Kotanna is extremely proficient in the fields of combat, tracking, philosophy, and sesquipedalian loquaciousness.


Weakness: While at the peak of her physical capacity, Kotanna employs a fighting style which focuses on slow, powerful strikes, which can leave her vulnerable to quicker and more agile opponents. In addition, her staunch views on justice and liberty can cause her to make decisions which may not be in the best interests of herself or those around her.


Appearance: A veritable titan, Kotanna stands half-a-head taller than most people, and is covered in hard, lean muscle. Eyes like pools of magma peer out of a face which is almost remarkable in its unremarkable nature, above a mouth of pearly whites which is usually curled into a thin smirk. Her armour, dark navy, is constructed to be both durable and lightweight, and her organic components tend to be coloured a smoke-grey.


History: Enslaved at a young age by a rival Skakdi warlord, Kotanna was set to work clearing ancient libraries, where she discovered texts belonging to the great Skakdi philosophers of old. Their knowledge and ideology fuelling her, she led a revolt against her captors, freeing herself and her comrades in chains. After this, she wandered the world for years, trying to find a meaning to her life, now that her enslavement and rebellion were in the past. She made her way to Midnight City, where her fighting and tracking skills granted her a position amongst the Enforcers.


Personality: Kotanna is a staunch believer in the importance of liberty, which puts her at odds with the dystopian society which she is charged to protect. Honour is just as important to her, and she abides to a strict moral code, unrelenting. She cannot stand criminality or injustice and is unwilling to curb her desire to deliver freedom and justice to the masses.


 


Generally quiet and considerate, she is unusually peaceful and serene for a Skakdi, though still a stern military woman. Despite her hatred of criminal actions, she can merciful to the criminals themselves, should she see it as the best course of action to exact justice. When she speaks, it is either to deliver pertinent information, philosophize on the nature of the world, or make snippy commentary about those around her.


 


- - -


 


“To ask strength not to express itself as strength, not to be a will to dominate, a will to subjugate, a will to become master, a thirst for enemies and obstacles and triumphant celebrations, is just as absurd as to ask weakness to express itself as strength.”


 


- Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals


 


Name: Marit “Mar” Andris


Species: Skrall, Genderfluid (Biologically Male)


Affiliation: The Gangs; Watcher of the Chains of Roxtus


Gears: A pair of pistols


Skills: Mar is proficient in the art of drawing pistols quickly and pumping rounds of iron into the vital organs of his enemies, as well as lock-picking, demolition, and grand arson.


Weakness: Mar’s one of those scrubs who doesn’t always know how to just shut up, which isn’t always the best thing when you spend every waking moment of your life surrounded by dangerous criminals. This is especially unfortunate, as his hand-to-hand combat skills leave much to desired in comparison to his skills as a sharpshooter.


Appearance: Lean like a Shallows Cat on the prowl, Mar looks every bit the part of a criminal. He’s shorter and slighter than your average Skrall, and his face is hard and angular, scarred with a pearly white grin and his one remaining acid-green eye, which seems to alternatively glimmer and boil, depending on his mood; the other is obscured by a simple black eyepatch. Principally ebon in colouration, his once-scarlet accents have long since faded to a burnt orange, a fact which is almost hidden by the black hoodie that he wears.


History: A second-generation Skrall of the Lowercity, Mar’s never known any home but the gutters. Recollections of his parents are vague and few; the only concrete thing he knows about them is that they were killed after doing business with the wrong gang at the wrong time. Mar escaped while he could and lived the next few years hand-to-mouth on the unforgiving streets of Midnight City, before being “adopted” by the Chains of Roxtus as a Watcher, where he’s served ever since.


Personality: Socially and chaotically Darwinistic, Mar is a firm believer in the idea that only the strongest have the right to rule, an ideology borne from years on the street and tutelage from the members of the Chains. He’s developed into quite the ruthless, sociopathic blood knight over the years, determined to prove his strength against any opponent he can get his hands on, though he’s unlikely to fight fair. Mar’s crass, crude, and loud as Karz; seemingly incapable of empathy, and a lover of drink, jokes, fire, and blood.


 


-Void

 
 
[ BZPRPG ]

 

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