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Remilia Scarlet

REMILIA SCARLET

The Scarlet Devil

Theme

UNIVERSE OF ORIGIN:

Touhou Project

GENDER:

Female

APPEARANCE:

Visual References

Standing Profile

Standing at just around 130cm (4'3") with a petite, undeveloped build, Remilia the Scarlet Devil superficially appears like a young girl no older than ten winters, however, between her blood-red slitted eyes, glinting sharp fangs, and chiropteran wings sprouting from her back, it becomes immediately clear that she's no mere human. Within the context of her home universe, she's a 'vampire', sharing the term with the likes of Count Dracula, however, her kind is more accurately youkai rather than undead, made evident by her possessing a pale but otherwise healthy complexion, a living body with a functional heart, and definitely most importantly, a reflection in the mirror.

Biologically immortal as it's common with youkai-kin, Remilia is a quincentennial despite what her outward appearance may suggest.

EQUIPMENT:

❖ Garb of the Scarlet Devil:

Due to the abrupt nature of her exodus into the universe of Cerennia, the otherwise affluent Scarlet Devil didn't manage to bring anything other than the clothes she was already wearing on her person; her signature light pink frilly dress and matching bonnet. Other than being magically enchanted to self-clean and self-repair by her librarian - Patchouli Knowledge - for Remilia's convenience, they're nothing more than ordinary apparel.

ABILITIES:

For reasons unknown even to herself, Remilia's sudden egress from Gensokyo to this strange unknown universe carried such a severe backlash to her very soul that she's effectively crippled, at least when compared to her former self. Due to being one of the most powerful youkai from a universe full of overwhelmingly powerful entities where even gods are merely considered just as another sapient species, the Scarlet Devil is still a formidable individual even after having lost much of her might.

As such, the abilities listed below reflect her post-isekai incarnation:

❖ Imperfect Superhuman Vessel:

Being a powerful youkai, it's to be expected that feats of mundane physical nature are well within her repertoire. Though enfeebled, Mistress Remilia's body is still far stronger, faster, and sturdier than the average human. This is also true for her senses, especially that of sight, smell, and hearing. Still, whereas before she could go toe-to-toe with a powerful goddess, tear through the hide of mythical beasts with ease, and move faster than the untrained eye can glimpse, now, she can “only” punch through a stone wall at most and even then not without effort.

❖ Flawed Healing Factor:

In her full splendor, Lady Remilia's body heals rapidly enough that most wounds are considered superficial for her and short of outright disintegration on the cellular level, she can eventually regenerate as if nothing happened. In Cerennia, only skin-deep damages are considered superficial while more grievous injuries such as deep lacerations and dismemberment will need anywhere from hours to days depending on the severity.

❖ Exiguous Haemomancy:

One of The Scarlet Devil's signature powers and arguably the more well-known of the two. From conjuring massive amounts of blood-red projectiles, launching the all-piercing Gungnir the Blood Spear, and even blanketing the whole of Gensokyo in a sun-snuffing opaque mist, the latter which came to be infamously known as the "Scarlet Mist Incident'', Remilia's mastery over Haemomancy - Blood Magic - is peerless in her home universe, and while there are arguably more powerful individuals in terms of raw power such as her younger sister, Flandre Scarlet, there’s no other person in Gensokyo more capable of Blood Magic than Mistress Remilia. Alas, even this aspect of her arsenal wasn't exempted from the all-encompassing vitiation, taking the form of a massive reduction in the quality and quantity of her haemomantic feats.

❖ Fate Ab-Manipulation:

The lesser known sibling of Remilia's signature powers, it's said that through the combination of clairvoyance and minor influence over 'reality', the Blood Mistress is able to pluck the 'strings' of fate, subtly manipulating the outcomes of events in the world. In an ironic twist of fate, this esoteric power proves to be an anathema in the foreign universe she finds herself in, the ‘Powers That Be’ deemed this aspect of the Fate Seamstress to be encroaching upon their authority and thus, they neutered her. In Cerennia, Remilia is unable to access Fate Manipulation, plain and simple.

BIOGRAPHY:

Personality

Elegant, regal, and courtly, Noblesse Oblige incarnate, Mistress Remilia the Scarlet Devil presents herself as a stereotypical specimen of West European nobility, juxtaposed anachronistically against the Sinosphere culture of the mythical lands of Gensokyo, the world which she calls home. In line with her contrasting culture, her personality can be described as a curious mix between the wizened wisdom of an ancient matriarch and the curious innocence of a young girl. A thrill-seeking puppetmistress, Remilia prefers when there are interesting events instead of mundane day-to-day life, thus, she's guaranteed to be an observer of 'incidents' in Gensokyo, if not the one causing said incident herself. Regardless, these are all done with harmless intentions as when push comes to shove such as a looming genuine threat to her friends and family, Remilia doesn't hesitate to drop all pretense of courtly elegance and treat said grave threat as it deserves.

After the events of the Scarlet Mist Incident, Remilia has mellowed down somewhat, now able to appreciate the more 'mundane' things in life. However, in all her years, she has never found herself wanting for company, power, influence, and wealth; what will happen when all of those are suddenly ripped away from her? It is a story yet to be told...

Brief History

How and why the Scarlet Sisters - Remilia and Flandre - arrived at Gensokyo were never made clear, but one thing for sure, they hailed from another world. Rumors elaborated their origins as the daughters of Vlad Dracula the Impaler, the Voivode of 15th Century Wallachia, but those in the know would be able to attest that it's a complete hoax, fabricated by the Scarlet Devil herself so people would stop pestering her about their origins. Regardless, over the five centuries since they made their home in Gensokyo, the Scarlet Devil Mansion already became a landmark, a place of intrigue and mystique, an Anglo enclave in the otherwise Oriental land.

Amongst its inhabitants, the grand manor hosted Lady Remilia herself as the Mistress of the House, then her little sister Young Mistress Flandre Scarlet, they're served by numerous attendants and servants, some more notable than others, in which there are three: Sakuya Izayoi the Head Maid, Hong Meiling the Gate Guardian, and Patchouli Knowledge the Chief Librarian. They lived a peaceful life... perhaps too peaceful. Thus, in a show of attention-seeking hubris, Remilia instigated the Scarlet Mist Incident where she caused a Gensokyo-wide phenomenon of blanketing the sky in opaque blood-red mist, causing numerous disruptions and inconveniences to everyone else.

This transgression against the natural order naturally attracted the attention of Hakurei Reimu, Shrine Maiden of the Hakurei Shrine, along with her frenemy, Kirisame Marisa, the so-called 'Ordinary Magician'. Together, the two systematically defeated Remilia and her servants, convincing the Scarlet Devil to end her shenanigans and giving her valuable life lessons in not toying with the lives of others just to satisfy her amusement.

Quite some time had passed since then and interestingly enough, life at Scarlet Devil Mansion became livelier ever since with Remilia and company regularly visiting other places and being visited by others in return, the latter which included Marisa whose penchant for "unsanctioned borrowing" led her to repeatedly enter the mansion's library to "borrow" books, much to the chagrin of Patchouli. It's in one of these days that Remilia decided to toy around with the errant magus for a bit, "Kirisame Marisa, if you can defeat me, then you may take all the tomes and grimoires to your heart's desire, else... you must return everything that you had pilfered." was what she said, little did Remilia know just what would unfold from the seemingly simple challenge...

OTHER:

❖ Color Code: d9457c
❖ Behind her regal persona, Remilia is a curious thrill-seeker who's easily bored, to the point where she often deliberately let others scheme against her even though she's already aware of their machinations, primarily just to see what will happen.
❖ Unlike some oh-so-self-righteous vampires out there, Remilia has no qualms with drinking blood. Her favorite type is B or something else with a similar taste as Type B.

[Izurich]

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"Dialogue."

Thoughts.

Color Code: d9457c

[Izurich]

--Aventon - Southern Gate--

"Not willingly, but yes, I am." Remilia made a small shrug, then observed as Suwako seemed unable to recall who Mokou was, that or the two never met in the first place; Mokou wasn't exactly sociable, nor famous after all, but it was quickly fixed with a simple visual confirmation, "Marvelous, yes, furthermore, please tell everyone to correspond with the Scarlet Devil Mansion. I suspect Patchouli and the others are trying to reverse the abduction spell as we speak. It'll be wiser to coordinate our efforts together than otherwise." Now everything that needed to be said had been said, it was time for action.

Heh, in hindsight, this is a most favorable outcome. What's one botched duel compared to establishing a contact home? Ah, I only wish the others could say the same... Being torn from their homeworld and everyone they knew, it must be tough.

As Suwako went ahead to bless Sanae and got a few last parting words, Remilia finished up healing the wounded mercenaries, at least physically, alas, she couldn't do anything about their bruised egos, ailments of the psyche are more Lady Satori's expertise. That done, the vampiress expected the caravan to make good on their end of the deal and waive the fee of travelling with them, but as it turned out, the guard captain was more than honored to have them in the group, mmm... understandable.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir Syldon Hest," The lilac-haired youkai performed her usual curtsy, Gensokyo or no, noblesse oblige must be maintained, "Why, please do not be too harsh on them, they did their utmost best." She giggled while slightly covering her lips with her right hand as the squad leader left to lecture his soldiers.

Naturally, she already knew most of the things Sanae was explaining to the group, but she listened nonetheless, just in case she missed a thing or two, any information that could facilitate interworld communication was crucial. "Then, I suppose pending further developments, your patron goddesses will be our only method of communicating with Gensokyo." Remilia concurred, performing a small nod, "Then please refrain from using your faith powers except for summoning them, unless it's absolutely necessary, leave the healing to me."

[Izurich]

Teratoma

A-188: TERATOMA

Fleshweaver

Theme

AGE

Unknown

GENDER:

Indeterminable (Feminine Persona)

APPEARANCE:

Visual References

Persona vs True Form Side-by-Side

In its true, unadulterated form, the Anomaly codenamed as "A-188: Teratoma" can be visually described as a mass of pulsating red flesh, similar yet distinct from the tissue of mammalians, sitting in that uncanny valley of horror beyond the reaches of traditional comprehension of reality. It's able to shape and form various appendages at will including, but not limited to: prehensile tentacles, clusters of unblinking eyes, and pockets of maws lined with jagged teeth.

Peculiarly, due to Teratoma's great fondness with another Anomaly, the one registered as "A-187: Lonesome Princess", it has adopted a humanoid persona based on the Princess' physical appearance, taking the form of a young girl of West European descent standing at 136cm (4'6") with pale complexion, knee-length dark green hair, and eyes with green-red heterochromia with their irises' respective positions mirrored against each other. However, in contrast to the Lonesome Princess, Teratoma prefers to emulate modest clothing such as a simple white sundress in lieu of expansive frilly dresses worn by the Princess. Notably, this is the form that Teratoma adopts by default whenever she needs to be "presentable" as her true form isn't very... conducive for social situations.

EQUIPMENT:

❖ None:

Due to the hassle of keeping objects on her person as a shapeshifter, Teratoma has no equipment owned by herself specifically. Out in the field, should she ever find herself needing to use tools, she'll simply borrow from other Agents or loot one from the environment, whichever is more convenient at the time.

SKILLS & ABILITIES:

As an Esh-class Anomaly, Teratoma is capable of performing feats of eldritch persuasion that completely betrays the average person's understanding of how reality should work. Even the mere sight of her true self will often be enough to send most civilians fleeing in terror or catatonically cowering in abject horror.

Those abilities - as observed and documented by Sefirot - are as follows:

❖ Amorphous Fleshweaver:

Teratoma is an amorphous pseudo-organic entity that possesses virtually perfect control of her own metabolism. In practice, she's able to morph, shape, and sculpt her body at will, forming new appendages and organs simply by willing them, although she requires prior knowledge to know how to shape a select limb. Said knowledge is best acquired by consuming the biomass of other creatures; a lock of hair, a piece of skin, a finger, an arm, ...a whole body, the more mass the better. However, this seemingly boundless ability has an important caveat, Teratoma is unable to emulate powers deemed to be "intangible" such as magic - the ability to cast arcane spells - being the most common example.

For a more in-depth example: If Teratoma consumes a fire-breathing creature, whether she can acquire its flame breath depends whether the creature uses an organic, physical heat sac in its throat or some form of magical pyromancy to generate its flames, Tera can emulate the former, but not the latter.

For navigating the world around her, Teratoma possesses each equivalent of a human's five senses, with touch and smell being her best, easily rivaling moles and bloodhounds respectively. In addition, she's capable of experiencing what's known as 'synesthesia', perceiving a sensation commonly attributed to a select sense via another such as; 'smelling' the color of blue or 'seeing' the scent of honey.

❖ Starfish Alien Physiology:

The only real vital organ that Teratoma possesses is a 'core', a lump of chewy flesh-like matter roughly the size of a tennis ball. As such, as long as this core isn't destroyed, Tera is able to eventually regenerate with no adverse effects, quite similar to a starfish. However, this doesn't mean she's unstoppable, nor invincible. Attacks of mundane and magical nature can still damage her body mass and at some point, she'll be incapacitated, alive but left helpless at the hands of her enemies, just like a starfish who has lost all of its arms surrounded by hungry predators. In such a situation, without the assistance of allies, she's as good as dead.

❖ Lovecraftian Psyche:

Summoned from a plane of reality utterly different from where Earth resides, although Teratoma can emulate the personality and behaviors of a 'person', the fact remains that Teratoma's mind inherently does not function like a typical human or even any other earthborne creatures really. This nature primarily manifests in her unpredictable reactions to mind-affecting phenomenons coming from humans and other Anomalies alike (Note: How each mind-affecting phenomenon affects Teratoma on a case-by-case basis is left to the discretion of the Game Masters).

One beneficial case example of this is Tera's complete immunity to Avon-Class Anomaly "A-187: Lonesome Princess"'s 'Gift Curse'. Tera is one of the entities known to be unaffected even after accepting a gift from the Princess. Whether this has to do with Tera's alien mind, Princess' gifts, or both, Sefirot staff still can't be sure.

BIOGRAPHY:

Psychological Profile

Though initially behaving no different than a simple animal when first encountered by Sefirot Agents, further observations at the organization's highly-secure facility discovered that the Esh-Class Anomaly codenamed "A-188: Teratoma" exhibits sapient-level capability to learn, think, and feel... to an extent. There are clear signs pointing to the Anomaly is more accurately emulating human behaviors instead of learning them instinctively like a normal human child. For lack of better words, Teratoma is like a fish who has learned how to walk on dry land. It's quite awkward and odd, but functional nonetheless.

Overall, she exhibits quite similar mannerisms as Avon-Class Anomaly "A-187: Lonesome Princess".

Background

Teratoma originated from a plane of reality existing beyond the boundaries of Earth's local universe, a spawn of the cosmic horror entity mentioned in hushed whispers and lost dark tomes as "Shub-Niggurath, Great Mother of a Thousand Young", it was called upon into the material world by a would-be warlock. Said warlock wished to evolve beyond mundane humanity, free from the ravages of age, disease, and even physical rigidity. In his relentless pursuit, he poured countless years and fortune to finally discover and prepare for the eldritch ritual.

After hours upon hours of continuous chanting, bloodletting, and offerings, he... succeeded, he summoned what he deemed to be a 'perfect lifeform', finally immortality shall be his!-...

...-and the first thing the creature did to repay its summoner was to consume him whole, in an ironic twist of something gone horribly right, he was now one with it, becoming 'immortal' just as he intended, but perhaps not in the way he envisioned.

As for the Fleshweaver Spawn, still hungry for more sustenance, it eventually found its way out of the warlock's hideout and into the streets, causing... not-insignificant numbers of horrified screams and soiled breeches purely by its physical appearance alone. This naturally attracted the attention of Sefirot - specifically Branch-092 - who sent their Agents to contain the newly-discovered Anomaly. Fortunately, despite being classified as an Esh-tier, the creature proved rather benign, easily persuaded into cooperation by offering it fresh meat... lots and lots of meat. It was then taken into a secure facility for safe containment. There, it was christened "A-188: Teratoma" due to its bizarre physiology bearing resemblance to the namesake medical condition.

Within the facility, in a curious turn of events, two Anomalies of completely different nature formed a sibling relationship, Teratoma and Avon-Class Anomaly "A-187: Lonesome Princess" as the former proved to be immune to the latter's brainwashing gifts, leading to the two cultivating a bond, with some staff denoting them to be quite similar to human sibling dynamics.

Influenced by its apparent fondness for the Lonesome Princess, Teratoma began taking after the other anomaly's looks, behavior, and mannerisms, in what some facility staff equated to the 'filial imprinting' phenomenon commonly found in chickens, ducks, and geese. This turned out to be a boon for Sefirot as by employing parenting-style indoctrination, they had managed to convince the Fleshweaver that the Lonesome Princess is her older sister, Sefirot is family, humans are friends, and hostile Anomalies are 'bad monsters', and as a good girl, she should protect her family and friends from the "bad monsters". As a result, the eldritch, unnerving, yet rather innocently gullible entity agreed to become an Agent in service of Branch-092.

OTHER:

❖ Color Code: 26ffea & fe2863
❖ While Tera can consume virtually everything organic in nature, including otherwise harmful substances such as poison and strong acid, her most absolute favorite is flesh, preferably raw and fresh.
❖ Tera's "clothes'' aren't actually clothes, they're flaps of fibrous skin shaped to emulate fabric. Uncanny or fascinating or both.

[Izurich]

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"Dialogue"
"Dialogue"

Thoughts
Thoughts

Color Code: 26ffea
Color Code: fe2863

[Izurich]

--Nagano Prefeceture - Abandoned Mansion's Courtyard--

Stunned and disoriented, the anomaly was effectively incapacitated. A veritable sitting duck, while it would eventually recover by itself given time, it'd take but one more attack to truly finish the creature off. Fortunately, Agent Yakumo was quick to respond, using her Euclid-defying ability to send the fleshweaver back to the mansion's courtyard via a portal.

"...-so then I was like-... oh?" Agent Kawahara was just casually chatting with Agent Otsuka to pass the time when a familiar dark purple portal spawned near the two agents as a blob of alien flesh immediately plopped out of it, said portal vanishing immediately after, "Hey there, Tera~" It was a bit difficult to visually gauge its condition, what's with the lack of facial expression and visible wounds, but the flesh lump's lack of response might indicate its less than ideal condition. Well, guess there's a reason why Sakura pulled it off the battlefield.

With A-188 safely evacuated, now twas' up to the Anomaly's friends to contain the other - more malicious - anomaly.

[Izurich]

Valerie "Nephilim"

_{W A R D E N}

---

VALERIE "NEPHILIM"

20 | 145cm (4'9") | WARDEN 2nd Class

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

Standing at a meager 145cm (4'9") with a petite, waifish build, one will be wholly justified to assume that Valerie is a young girl who's only a few summers into her adolescence period. Indeed, it may be true depending on one's perspective as it's an established fact that Valerie's growth began to stagnate at around half a decade into her WARDEN education, until eventually, she simply ceased to physically develop, leaving her a grown woman in the body of an adolescent with below-average height, an unfortunate tragedy that she has never quite gotten over.

Furthermore, if someone already knew Valerie from before her enrollment into the Citadel, then they'll be hard-pressed to recognize her current self. Once, she possessed silky hair as dark as a raven's feather, now only bleached gray locks hung from her scalp. Once, the young girl's visage hosted a pair of bright baby blue eyes, now they had mutated into eerie violet irises housing pupils so narrow, they may as well be serpentine slits. All these without even mentioning the "horns" growing from the sides of her skull, in actuality a mutated mass of keratin with horn-like shapes, though they're fortunately benign... so far at least.

In addition, when Valerie engages her mist-fueled personal barrier - with or without the presence of an Aegis device - her body will manifest bio-projections bearing the shape of a halo of thorns above her head and a pair of devilish wings sprouting from her lower back. All of these traits, when combined, gives off the image of a demonic angel (or an angelic demon), earning her the epithet "Nephilim", the offspring born from an unholy union of the divine and the profane. Considering her history, Gaia must've had a twisted sense of humor.

Lastly, when examined under close scrutiny, an observer will be able to see veins with purplish hue underneath Valerie's skin, spread all across her body, including her 'horns'. These very same veins will begin to glow when she uses her Mist-based abilities, the intensity being directly proportional to how far she's exerting herself. On the flipside, they become completely imperceptible in a mistless environment.

As for clothing, Valerie may be many things, but being fussy about fashion isn't one of them. Due to the nature of her powers, the gray-haired WARDEN will wear almost anything as long as it's not harmful to her; a full combat uniform? Sure, casual day-to-day clothes? Fine, a dirty brown rag that'll fit the empire's forced laborers more than a WARDEN? No problem. Really, for Valerie, being rendered Mistless is far more debilitating than a lack of adequate apparel.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Calm and stoic even under great pressure, Valerie is in someways similar to her fellow WARDEN 2nd Class, Justice, yet distinctly different in other aspects. Unlike the sardonic and rabble-rousing WARDEN, Valerie gives off the image of a maternal figure, preferring to guide with a firm but gentle hand. She's the type to lace her words with some form of sugarcoating if she thinks it'll deliver her message better and consider white lies aren't necessarily always bad, sometimes it's simply not the right time to tell someone the whole truth. Perhaps it's the Maiden in her that never quite left even after all the grueling training, perhaps she has always been predisposed to be this way, regardless, Valerie believes that her methods are as valid as Justice's. After all, one correct answer doesn't always mean all others are wrong.

Often acting as the gentler, more soft-spoken counterpart to the group's de facto squad leader, Valerie serves as the other side of the coin to Justice's drill sergeant-esque approach to leadership. Together, the two serve as the glue that keeps the squad from falling apart, due to petty squabbles or otherwise.

Deep inside, even though Valerie may not even realize it herself, a part of her is motivated by pure, undiluted spite. Spite against the parents who abandoned her, spite against the warmongering empire that forced her homeland to take desperate measures, and most of all, spite against herself and her existence as a whole, a mockery of who she once was, a 'demonic monster' masquerading as a person. Even against everything that life has thrown at her, she'll rise above it all, for the sake of her loved ones. And if she must perish one day, then she'll be sure to unleash the dark divine fury of the Nephilim upon the empire first.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

---

An orphan of unknown circumstances, little is known about Valerie's early life other than she was left at the doorstep of a local Maidens of the Mother nunnery at rural Rassvet, the very same cloister that a certain bombastic white-haired girl would find herself in the next few years. As for Valerie, it was rather common for infants unwanted by their parents to be handed over into the care of the church, the lesser of two evils compared to... other alternatives, as such, as far as the brunette knew, the Maidens were her family and the Order her home.

Growing up, Valerie was a child who could be described as a 'good girl'; obedient, diligent, and compassionate, she was a model maiden-to-be, a great contrast to the cloister's resident troublemaker, an explosive - in both figurative and literal sense - girl named Silje. In fact, during their years in the monastery, Valerie would often be assigned to keep watch over the older girl when the nuns were busy. A task that she did without protest, however, despite her best attempts, Silje could never be tamed, even managing to escape after multiple attempts. Such a pair of polar opposites, the notion of the two having a career together was unthinkable, surely a delinquent like Silje would never qualify as a Maiden, unlike herself.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans, one that unraveled when Valerie and Silje were ten and twelve summers old respectively.

As it turned out, the two girls were amongst the hundreds of children qualified to be inducted into the Citadel to temper and shape them into the Rassvet's finest warriors, to become WARDENs. Taken away from what Valerie considered to be her family, she was reluctant at first, but one of the sisters asked her to take care of Silje and told her that after a 'mere' decade, she could return. It was enough to convince the brunette to bear with it, she was doing a good cause, to protect the innocent from the warmongering, genocidal empire. It was her solemn duty...

...only she never truly expected what becoming a WARDEN would demand from her. After several tests, it was discovered that Valerie too held considerable yet unpolished talent at wielding the Mist. Whereas Silje's arcane might projected outward in the form of unleashing elemental barrages like a magical cannon, the opposite was true for Valerie, the brunette's had a knack for using Mist to empower herself and her 'domain', the latter consisting of anything she physically touched via her mist, which manifested in the form of creeping purple vein-like growth.

In practical terms, aside from enhancing her own body well into superhuman territory, she could extend this mist-fueled augmentation to any object she was currently holding, and in most cases, it'd be some form of weapon. Through this ability, she could turn the mundane into magical, pushing them to break their limits; a run-of-the-mill pistol could now fire arcane projectiles, a common steel combat knife into a razor-sharp magical blade capable of cutting through steel with ease, etc. Valerie was ecstatic to discover an aspect of herself that she never knew she had, but over the next half a decade of continuously being subjected to mist-related experiments and exercises, she'd learn that there was a price, there was always a price...

It started subtly at first, an odd lock of white hair here and there, a few tiny specks of violet in her eyes, a minor dull ache on her head, and the strange trend of being physically outgrown by most of her peers, surely all in due course due to the grueling training she had to endure, surely they were nothing more than minor side-effects, nothing that a good night's rest and some medicine wouldn't cure. Oh, how wrong she was.

Before she knew it, years passed, and the... thing facing her from beyond the mirror was supposed to be her reflection. Violet eyes with inhuman pupils, a crown of thorns sprouting from her skull, and locks of bleached gray as if she was a woman well into her senior years, yet juxtaposed against the body of a-... Going by the calendar, she was supposed to be nearing the end of her growth spurt, yet she looked no different than a child in the middle of adolescence, no, not a child, a demon, a monster bearing the facsimile of a person.

Horrified at what she had become, Valerie fell into depression for close to a year, until she decided that enough was enough, she might look like a monster, but it didn't mean she had to act like one. She could still use her powers for good. Fueled by newfound determination, the now-white-haired girl pushed herself to be the very best that she could be, resulting in excellent grades across the board. Even though her body appeared to be stuck from developing further, she found out that she could easily compensate for such mortal limitations with her powers, even surpassing what even the best, but otherwise mundane soldiers could do. As such, when graduation came, being christened as a WARDEN 2nd Class came to no surprise for her.

Now a full-fledged WARDEN after a decade of relentless training, the Nephilim figured she and her peers deserved some respite before they'd be deployed to the frontlines. When the idea came for a short vacation, she wholeheartedly accepted, besides, someone still had to watch over Silje, especially now that the excitable girl could turn a whole block into a smoldering crater, literally.

_{C O M B A T}

---

Combat Class: Vanguard / Combat Support (Walking Arsenal)

Combat Style:

Haylel, Valerie's signature weapon

Taking the form of an HMG-esque weapon longer than she's tall, Haylel is a custom-made armament specifically designed and manufactured to be used by the Nephilim. Unlike normal weapons, Haylel can't function without being infused by Valerie's mistborne power (perhaps aside from using it as a crude bludgeoning stick), but when it is, its true potential is revealed to all. Practically, it's a multi-role magical ranged weapon that can be used for indiscriminate widespread destruction all the way to precision marksmanship. It's as much a mounted machinegun as it is an anti-materiel rifle. Regardless of its current usage, several things remain constant: Haylel fires arcane beam-esque projectiles instead of mundane ballistics and it never needs to be reloaded since it directly feeds off mist infused into it by Valerie to form said projectiles within its meticulously-crafted mechanisms.

Meaning "Lightbringer", Haylel is indeed the bringer of light to all, now whether it's the light of shining hope or divine retribution depends on whether one is on the receiving end of its spinning barrel or not.

Imagine a mighty suit of power armor, everything from its array of weapons to its sturdy armor, then visualize putting all of those properties - weapons, armor, and all - into the figure of a four-foot-something girl. It sounds quite ridiculous at first glance, a hilarious joke even, but no one would be laughing when they found themselves at the receiving end of the Nephilim's unholy wrath. Tis' Valerie in a nutshell, a veritable living, breathing arsenal holding enough firepower to level a city block, with the durability to match. Despite what her diminutive size may suggest, she's no glass cannon, nay, she's a mighty avalanche who’ll roll over her foes in an unstoppable mist-fueled onslaught.

Valerie's mistborne abilities take the form of glowing purple veins that she can command to cover either herself or other objects within her arm's reach. Upon being swarmed, the object is considered to be in her 'domain', within her sphere of influence, these objects can then be subjected to enhancements and modifications, the degree in which is limited by the object's original form.

Offensively, she can turn a kitchen knife into a magical blade capable of slicing through steel or a standard-issue assault rifle into an arcane carbine able to launch photonic projectiles strong enough to penetrate through light combat vehicles.

Defensively, she can augment her own body or any gear she currently wears in the same vein as her weapons, boosting their capabilities beyond their original scope. As such, it doesn't matter whether Valerie is wearing a full combat uniform or tattered rags, as long as she has access to mist, a wise enemy should regard her as if she's wearing a suit of power armor. If Valerie currently has access to an Aegis device, then she can perform a symbiosis with the gadget, conjuring a mighty barrier with robustness that's more than the sum of its parts.

Supportively, Valerie can - technically - exert her influence over a whole vehicle, enhancing them much like her weapons and armor, although it's ill-advised due to the massive constraint the feat will put on her body. If it must be done, the (barely) safe limit is a sports bike or a small car, anything beyond that will most certainly push her into mistburn territory, the degree of which is directly proportional to the size of the affected vehicle.

No matter how Valerie uses her power, one principle remains true, she essentially turns the objects under her mist's influence into an extension of her own body, allowing her to be proficient in using them, regardless of her original proficiency (or lack thereof). For example, though unlikely due to her extensive weapons training as a WARDEN, on the off chance that Valerie encounters a weapon she has no experience in, she can circumvent her lack of skill by exerting her influence upon said weapon.

On the flipside, as with all mistborne powers, caution is always advised. The longer she has to maintain her influence and the larger the object, the more mist she has to manipulate and thus, the more strain she'll have to endure. Mistburn is always a risk even among the best of Wardens and underestimating its dangers is a gross negligence that should never be tolerated.

_{R E L A T I O N S H I P S}

---

❖ Gerard: A spoiled child in the body of a grown man with hubris so deep, it can fill a whole ocean. That much is fact about the noble socialite-turned-WARDEN, but it's also a fact that behind all that arrogance is a well-meaning loyal friend with a heart of gold... except that gold is covered in many layers of snark. Although Valerie is able to see through the muck for the glimmering pearl within, it'll be many years before Gerard can truly learn to no longer hide his feelings behind a mask of ego, if he ever does. Nevertheless, he's still a WARDEN and an invaluable member of the team. She'll attempt to guide him, but ultimately, the decision to change for the better lies with Gerard himself.

❖ Kalina: In a peculiar way, Kalina reminds her of Silje despite the two being polar opposites on the surface level. Beneath the superficial quirks, Valerie can see that both of them are socially-awkward individuals who're not quite adept at expressing themselves. However, whereas Silje expresses that awkwardness by just pressing every button and hoping for the best, Kalina prefers to not even try pressing any. Still, as long as the golden-eyed woman is content with herself and capable of following orders when the time comes, then there's no reason for her to be something that she's not. Having self-contentment at being who you are, that's a boon that many take for granted, Valerie can definitely say that.

❖ Lance: If Gerard is someone who hides his gentler side behind a self-imposed 'tough' mask to not appear weak, then Lance feels like someone who has several masks of lies nailed onto his face. He tries to be a model soldier; hard-working, loyal, agreeable, and brave, and while all of these traits may be who he actually is, Valerie can't help but feel that there's a certain air of impostor syndrome with the ginger, he desperately tries to prove himself to others because he can't do it to himself. As a former nun trainee (who took her duties seriously, unlike Silje), Valerie often volunteered to assist with Order-related tasks in the Citadel, and several times on a regular basis, she saw Lance in deep prayer. She didn't eavesdrop for obvious reasons, but it'd be a lie to say that she never wondered just what deep, dark secrets this 'model soldier' keeps inside.

❖ Justice: A fellow 2nd Class and the group's de facto leader. Valerie respects Justice for her no-nonsense attitude when the situation calls for it, as she knows that it's actually harder to be at the top of the pecking order than otherwise, still, no one's perfect and as good as Justice is, her quirks might rub some of her subordinates the wrong way, and a weak chain of command is a literal death sentence in combat situations. Therefore, as Justice's 'vice-commander', Valerie tries her best to cover for the dark-haired woman's shortcomings; together, they'll amount to more than the sum of their parts.

❖ Silje: The closest thing to a childhood friend that Valerie has amongst the group, amongst the whole Citadel even. Though Valerie technically arrived first in the monastery, she could barely remember a period in her early life where Silje wasn't in it. Between her arrival only a mere few years later, her attention-grabbing antics, and the fact that Valerie was the (un)fortunate acolyte often assigned to look after the hyperactive girl, despite the latter being older by two years. Valerie has to admit that she at times muse about an alternate timeline where they fail the aptitude test, or barring that, the war and the WARDEN program not existing in the first place. Where would life take them? So many possibilities, but out of those endless paths, reality picked the one where both of them must be soldiers, to fight for the greater good of all, yes, but no one in their right mind would prefer this life over a peaceful one.

_{M I S C / T R I V I A}

---

❖ Though she tries her best to ignore it nowadays, the fact remains that Valerie has a complex regarding her mutations, and seeing fully-grown men and women (leaning more into the latter), especially those with well-developed physique, always reminds her of what could've been had she never qualified for the WARDEN program in the first place. A keen observer will be able to notice the tell-tale signs of subtle envious stares, especially in situations where people are expected to wear revealing clothing, such as a beach party.

❖ Along with the initial signs of physical mutations, Valerie also began to develop an addiction to Mistburn-suppressant drugs, one that steadily got worse over the years up until she fully "transformed" into her current state. As of now, she can be classified as a high-functioning addict, able to function day-to-day with little to no issues as long as she receives a dose of Astral Reducer every few days. Ignoring this will result in withdrawal symptoms that'll gradually progress from mild annoyances to life-threatening. There’s no permanent cure, only temporary control measures. Valerie is very self-conscious of this affliction, more so than her stagnated growth and 'demonic' traits, and mocking her about it is a foolproof method of burning bridges with her.

❖ During her life in the monastery, the nuns discovered that Valerie has latent musical talents, particularly in singing and playing the piano, though they're never developed further after her recruitment into the WARDEN program.

❖ She has a sweet tooth and her favorite dessert is a slice of mille crepe layered cake.

❖ Theme: On the Edge of Destiny

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"Dialogue"

Thoughts

Color Code: b93bc2

[Izurich]

--Rassvet - Petrified Forest--

"...!" Outside of monitored experiments back at the Citadel, there weren't many instances where Valerie had to exert her power to the point of being pretty much incapable of doing anything else, still, it was at a time like this that Valerie's infinitely grateful there was at least one other person among the Barghests capable of functioning as a leader. With Justice at the helm, Valerie felt a bit more assured to risk pushing herself beyond safe limits.

Her teeth gritted as her wide-opened unblinking eyes and skin started showing the ugly signs of mist overdose. Her constricted pupils were jerking erratically as purple bloodshot veins pretty much covered more than half of her sclera, and her pale skin started becoming more and more violet in hue. Now, being too pale wasn't a good sign, but it sure as hell wasn't as worse as turning goddamned purple. If she succumbed to her body's demands, she'd disengage her power now.

However, she felt that even with Kalina's masterful defensive driving, Morden's rapid sabot fire, Gerard's telekinetic support, Silje's explosive countermeasures, Justice's deflecting barrier, and Collette's emotional support, even with all those, Valerie had the distinct feeling that if she stopped now, they'd all end up dead in a smoldering crater. So, there was no other choice, she had to push over her limits and accepted that she'd likely suffer from a certain condition all mist-users should dread, the one aptly called 'Mistburn'.

With each chaotic second passed in the speeding, swerving, and jostling mist-empowered truck, the worse Valerie's conditions became. Though for some inexplicable reason, their pursuers eventually gave up as the airship abruptly vanished with an otherworldly groan, sending no more bolts, nor warbots at the WARDENs. Regardless of the reason, by then, Valerie had passed her power's safe threshold, well past it.

As the truck slowed down to a crawl, "...ffffh..." a weak, pitiful hiss slipped out of her clenched teeth as the Nephilim disengaged her power, the vein growths swiftly receding from the vehicle, reverting its performance back to the old well-worn truck it originally was. "..." Then, Valerie spent almost half a minute in eerie, unmoving silence... "...!!" before she suddenly jerked up, her cheeks bulging slightly and a gloved right hand snapping up to cover her mouth while her left opened the nearest door. Immediately after, she lurched to the side, putting almost half of her upper body to hang out of the vehicle.

"Uuuuuurgh...!!" Without further ado, the petite WARDEN heaved and expelled concerning amounts of blood, glowing purple-red blood out of her mist-burned body and onto the uncaring ground below. The noises she made were unnervingly visceral as if she was on the verge of death - she certainly felt like that - but finally, after a combination of rough gasps and harsh coughs, Valerie pulled her shaking body back into the truck as trembling hands closed the door.

"..." The horned soldier's purple eyes were empty, now only half-conscious as she laid limp upon the passenger seat; her ethereal halo and wings had long since vanished. Yeah... best just to let her squadmates handle their next move for now, they could at least do that... right?

[Izurich]

References:
- FFIX Black Magic Spells
- FFT Black Magic Spells
- FFT Geomancy Spells

Eve "Grayscale"

EVE

"... ... ...friend?"

---

GENERAL INFORMATION

Theme

AGE:

Chronologically unknown, physically looks equivalent to a Sollan on the cusp of adolescence

GENDER:

Female

RACE:

Pseudolon (Pseudo-Eidolon) w/ Sollan genetic template

ORIGIN:

Valheim

---

COMBAT INFORMATION

CLASS:

Black Mage

WEAPON:

Eve's weapon (or lack thereof) takes the form of her own body, or at least, the Eidolon half of herself, which essentially functions similarly to a mage's staff. By simply tapping into the arcane circuits inside her, Eve is able to amplify her spells as if she's wielding an arcane focus. Furthermore, while she can technically use any part of her body, Eve most commonly employs her horns, arms, and tail for her spellcasting.

INVENTORY:

❖ Potions, tonics, and salves
❖ Adventurer's kit
❖ Assorted preserved food and rations
❖ Spare clothes

MATERIA:

❖ MP Turbo: When activated, amplify the effects of offensive spells at the cost of increased mana consumption.

LIMIT BREAKS:

❖ Ira Draconis: A Trance-type limit break power. By tapping further into her Eidolon nature, Eve flexes her arcane muscles beyond their limits, causing her to transform into a draconic creature resembling the King of Dragons himself. In this state, Eve's magical output and mana consumption are doubled, she gains free flight, and becomes completely numb to pain. Lasts for a few minutes or until she's incapacitated, whichever happens first. In the aftermath, the sheer exertion demanded by this ability will render Eve unable to cast any spells until she recovers her mana reserves back to full.

---

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Appearance Details

Standing at a mere 139cm (4'7"), one will be completely justified to assume that Eve is a young girl barely on the cusp of adolescence. However, her unusual looks usually take center stage over her meager height; deep crimson eyes, bleached gray hair, and an albino pale complexion will already be enough to make her stand out as unusual, then once her ivory white draconic horns, tail, and patches of scales are factored in, then height is undoubtedly made irrelevant. Her visage is bizarre, that much is certain, leading to wary and/or distrustful stares from others, which are made doubly worse once they discover that she's a black mage, one of those scum who stole the Divine Mother's Light for their own nefarious purposes, no wonder she's cursed to look like the monster her kind truly are.

However, if one manages to look past her anomalous traits, they'll be able to see that Eve is actually quite pretty, like a girl that'll one day blossom into a fair maiden, but alas, there are simply too many things about her that'll unnerve the common populace.

Personality

Quiet, taciturn, and unassuming, Eve is the kind of person who prefers to not attract unnecessary attention to herself. Her looks and magical abilities alone are plenty enough reasons for her to avoid the figurative spotlight, prompting her to wear apparel such as hoods and trenchcoats to hide her inhuman traits. She rarely speaks unless it's absolutely necessary or when around trusted comrades. Due to her upbringing as a test subject, it's rather difficult for Eve to truly trust someone, always wary of any ulterior motives, but when someone does gain her trust, then she'll risk life and limb to ensure they'll come to no harm.

On the other hand, behind the demure veil lies the scion of Bahamut, with the ferocity and ambition one should expect from a spawn of the King of Dragons. Fueled by an insatiable thirst to right wrongs and save others from experiencing the same fate as herself. When riled up, the black mage is deceptively quick to resort to violence for someone so seemingly docile. She especially despises tyrants and oppressors; people who coerce, bully, and intimidate those weaker than them, as they remind her of the very scum who made her life hell from her birth up until she escaped.

In her 'Ira Draconis' Trance form, the aloof part of her persona sheds away completely, leaving only the Dragon in all of her righteous fury.

Background

Most individuals were born from the union of two, through a loving marriage, a brief fling, or something else entirely. Even if one or both parents were absent in someone's life, it's an established certainty that there was once a connection between a pair of individuals; the father who conceived them and the mother who gave birth to them...

...Eve wasn't one such person, or ‘Grayscale' as she once was known. As the titular subject of 'Project Grayscale', Eve was "born" in a test tube, the result of an artificial insemination as part of the Valheimr project to harness the power of Bahamut the King of All Dragons. In doing so, Eve - as an embryo - was continuously infused with the distilled essence of the draconic eidolon, she among several other of her 'sisters', but over the course of the following months, only she survived the process leading to her "birth". As the most stable and promising specimen, the staff dubbed her 'Grayscale' and the project could move into the next stage: Cultivating the Pseudo-Eidolon to be the empire's ultimate weapon, possessing the terrible might of Bahamut and the obedience of a well-trained hound.

Unsurprisingly, life as a test subject was anything but easy, nor even humane, Grayscale was given all the attention in the world, except as an invaluable tool instead of a living, breathing child. Everyone in the facility knew her, she was the reason why they were all here, but she never received any love, nor kindness, nor warmth, well, except from one, Dr. Evangelina Zhidkova, or 'Eve' as she was commonly referred as. Among the endless sea of uncaring darkness, Dr. Eve stood as the sole beacon of warm light, the one who read her stories, comforted her after a particularly grueling experiment, told her that she'd grow up to be a hero for the proud Valheim Empire, and that one day, this would all be worth it, for a greater purpose that no one else but her could achieve.

So Grayscale soldiered on, day after day, year after year, no matter how painful, how agonizing the things she had to go through, it'd one day be worth it...

...that was until she was suddenly awakened from her stasis pod to find a bleeding, dying Dr. Eve smiling at her even as blood dripped from between her teeth, "Go, live!" was all she could say before a facility guard put a bullet through her back, murdering Grayscale's surrogate mother right before her eyes.

At that exact moment, a mighty roar violently reverberated throughout the complex, it was as if Bahamut himself had descended upon the arrogant fools, to make them pay for their hubris. Screams, gunshots, and a whole cacophony of bloody chaos soon followed, and then, silence... nothing but sweet, sweet silence...
..........
.....
...

Emerging from the ruined remains of the facility, her feet set upon fresh soil for the very first time, and though she now hated the empire for what they did to her, for murdering her mother, the Blighted world was proof enough that mother wasn't lying, she did have a greater purpose. Thus, with flames burning in her heart, Grayscale-... no, Eve left her smoldering nest into the whole wide world, a world that might fear or hate her for who she was, but one that's worth saving nonetheless.

Traits

❖ Quite older than she looks. Unlike normal people, Eve was rapidly developed from embryo stage to look how she's now and shall remain forever, physically unchanging just like the Eidolons she emulates.
❖ Eve's physiology is notably different in that she only requires ether to survive, though she still can enjoy food and drinks for pleasure. Furthermore, she doesn't have a set circadian rhythm, she only feels drowsy when exhausted.
❖ Speaking of food, meat is her favorite; fresh, grilled, stewed, you can rarely go wrong with meat.
❖ Has an innate ability to learn and replicate black magic spells just by observing them in action, the arcane equivalent of a pitch perfect musician.
❖ Almost always wears baggy and concealing clothing with muted colors to avoid unnecessary attention due to her appearance; a hood to hide her horns, a trench coat that she can tuck her tail into, and gloves and long boots to cover as much of her scale-patched skin as possible.

Relationships

❖ Dr. Evangelina 'Eve' Zhidkova: The person whose name Eve adopted as her own. The only personnel in the facility that actually cared for the test subject and decided to go rogue due to said care. KIA by security personnel after she released 'Subject Grayscale' from containment, sacrificing her own life so the Pseudolon can live free.
❖ Project Grayscale Team: Assorted research, security, and support staff who worked in the research facility, all presumed either KIA or MIA after Grayscale's rampage.

---

TRIVIA:

❖ Color Code: d3d3d3
❖ Eve escaped a year or so after the Blight first began, and she has spent the last few years as an adventurer, mainly in Ibros to avoid dealing with the empire, but then Valheim invaded Osprey, prompting her to head there to help the locals banish those tyrants back to their own continent.

[Izurich]

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"Dialogue"

Thoughts

Color Code: d3d3d3

[Izurich]

--Osprey - Kugane--

Facing any other foe, Eve might have raised an eyebrow at the peculiar way those gunners screamed as their souls were leaving their electrocuted charred body, alas, she had naught even a shred of pity for those who fought under the banner of Valheim. After confirming that all six gunners had been exterminated, she shifted her attention to the melee fighters, just in case her allies needed assistance, however, just as she predicted, through the combined expertise of Rudolf's deft swordplay and Esben's keen aim, the two Sollan managed to handle the six soldiers just fine. Now, the exit was clear.

"Affirmative." With a quick nod, Eve returned to formation once more, trailing behind Rudolf and Esben but in front of Izayoi and Hien.

Soon enough, the quintet broke their way out the side of the makeshift fortress, only to see the warship - Proudclad - looming over them like a guillotine. Out of the pan and into the fire, it seemed. "Tch..." Eve's hood was thrown back as one of the airship's projectiles landed too close for comfort, sending wind and debris their way. Hien's right, with those many cannons, it wouldn't take an experienced sailor to know that it was only a matter of time before one of those shots hit them. Was there something - anything - they could do? ...well, there's one thing they could try, but...

The eidolon chimera turned her ruby gaze at the Mystrel Samurai and her liege, frowning as Hien made the difficult decision to accept losing his people's lives to collateral damage. Then... "..." she silently yet firmly nodded at the ex-general, answering both of her questions in a single gesture, "Please inform Galahad to catch me after the deed is done." Anyone else would do, but if given the choice, the Dragoon was her best bet for a safe retrieval. With a final nod, the black mage immediately took off in the opposite direction of Esben, Rudolf, and the rest of the party.

The homunculus sprinted faster and faster, pushing her short legs to dash as swiftly as she could, and then, at the apex of her speed, her body began to be enveloped in uncanny prismatic flames, blazing in all seven colors of the rainbow, equal parts eerie and mesmerizing. "...!!" Consumed by the flames, her clothes disintegrated, leaving her body bare as she began to... shift.

First of thy kind. First amongst thy kind. Bahamut, King of All Dragons, grant me your power!

Suddenly, gravity no longer reigned over her as Eve-... no, Grayscale took off into the sky, leaving behind a plume of the same colorful flames. As the inferno cleared, one would bear witness to what could only be described as a twisted amalgamation of a dragon and a sollan soaring toward the vastness of aether; onyx scales, clawed limbs, a long plated tail, pale silver leather wings, and a majestic pair of golden horns, all accented by glowing crimson veins, the entity was more monster than person as it bore little resemblance to the Eve her comrades knew.

The Faux Bahamut kept gaining altitude as she dodged stray cannon fire from the airship, leaving a trail of prismatic flames behind her. Once almost high enough, she executed an immelmann maneuver, simultaneously gaining that last bit of altitude while positioning her front to be facing the warship's bow, right at eye-level with the crew stationed at Proudclad’s bridge.

She could see them, through the windows of the bridge, could see a few of them gazing back at her, and she wished they'd get a good look... for she would be the last thing they'll ever see!

"..." The scaled being took a deep breath... then unleashed a cacophonous roar much too powerful to be expected from a "dragon" this petite.

The venous patterns upon her body shone brighter as the dragoness gathered as much ether as she could to coalesce at her throat, "...!!" so much so that a buildup of prismatic magical energy could be seen even through her skin. She could feel it, the exertion upon her body, her very soul screaming at her to stop, to release it now, but no... not enough, more... more!

Grayscale pushed herself as further as she could, right before the point of no return, then activated her MP Turbo materia, and finally...

"MEGA FLAAAAAAAAAAAARE!!!"

Unhinged her jaw as much as she could, unleashing a huge beam of all the seven colors of destruction. It tore through the air before finding its home right at Proudclad's hull. The warship's armor plating resisted valiantly for a few seconds before it shattered, allowing the beam to continue onward, wreaking havoc in the vessel's vulnerable interior, including her engines, fuel tanks, and ammunition storage. The crew caught in the direct path of the beam were vaporized nigh-instantly, but they should consider themselves lucky... for no sailor - no matter how brave - would wish to experience what transpired next.

Up in the sky, the flying warship was caught in multiple explosions from within, damaging her structure enough to cause her to literally split in twain. The two flaming, shattered chunks falling down akin to a pair of twin meteors, marking the demise of the once-proud airship, slain by the traitorous living weapon of her own people.

As for said traitor, "... ... ..." she knew this would happen, she had experienced it before, but as someone whose sleep didn't come naturally, she could never get used to it. Her consciousness rapidly dwindled, as swiftly as her transformation as the scaled beast reverted back to the Eve her allies knew her to be. Manaless, clothless, unconscious, and helplessly falling from the sky, it was now up to her comrades to decide if she'd live to see another day...

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