Name: Aerith (Aerithel)
Age: 138 (appears eighteen)
Personality: Aerith’s personality is marked by the conflict of her bloodlines and her past. Through experience she has learned to never trust humans, but to respect them. She does not scorn them, but she does not care for them, either. She will not be roused to action by a cry for help. In a lot of ways Aerith is looking for direction in her life, and has decided on the path of a mercenary because she does not need to seek it herself this way. Aerith has a tight rein on her temper now because often the consequences are catastrophic. Reservations about people and the fear of her anger have made her into a very remote and distant woman.
Bio: Aerith’s entry into the world was marked by blood and death. Her mother was a mortal woman by the name of Searina Elladen, her father the demon lord Uusanaex – or the Lord of Fury, Spite and Hate. Her pregnancy with Aerith was hard, with the demon child essentially devouring the woman; draining her of nutrients and vitality. Searina was strong, but with the child continuously feeding on her she eventually died– with Aerith still in utero. It was only through the work of the midwife was Aerith born, cut from her mother’s stomach in a bath of blood and tissue.
From there, Aerith was adopted by a well-meaning family completely naïve of the child’s parentage. They should have known something was amiss, as even as a child Aerith was not “normal.” She was able to focus hours after her birth, and hold up her head days later. By nine months she was able to walk, talk, and had finely tuned motor-skills. And in spite of their numerous attempts, Aerith was uncontrollable. For the most part she was a quiet child, more of an introvert than an extrovert. She was more observant than many children and indeed adults, her colourless eyes seemingly looking into one’s soul. But when roused, Aerith had a destructive and, frankly, terrifying temper. She would succumb to black rages, and would often become quite violent in them. No amount of abuse or threats could curb her temper, and would sometimes just serve as a catalyst for the next episode. Still, it was only when she pushed their oldest son from the uppermost window of the home and that he landed on his head, forever changing him from the person he was, did they finally give her up to an orphanage.
The orphanage was, perhaps, a poor choice on their part. Given her alien appearance, Aerith was bullied endlessly by the other children, even going so far as to try and “stone” her for some imagined slight. Whenever she responded, however, the Headmistress was there to punish her. Aerith couldn’t understand why she shouldn’t defend herself, even at the cost of her ability to sit comfortably. Most of the time she couldn’t even remember striking out, just the aftermath; her knuckles split and bleeding, the child’s face smeared in tears, snot and blood beneath her, Aerith being dragged off her opponent. The fights occurred so often that they eventually isolated Aerith from the rest of the children, and her routine became different from theirs, her only company the supervisors.
On the cusp of puberty, Aerith began to change. She grew rapidly, her body quickly filling out to a more womanly figure as she grew over six feet tall. Puberty is time for changes, the first steps into womanhood – usually a time of fear, excitement and anticipation all rolled together. For Aerith there was only pain. Endless, boundless, excruciating headaches that prevented her from falling asleep and, when she finally did manage to sleep, greeted her before her eyes opened. For days she laid bed ridden, and could not be roused by anything – from food to threats. Her head had felt like it was splitting, breaking apart, the skin tearing open… And then, one morning a week later, Aerith woke to the morning sun, freed from the agony that had dominated her life.
Unfortunately, she now had two small, boney protrusions sprouting just inside her hairline.
Aerith took to hiding them: either with scarves or using her own hair. But the horns only grew larger as she got older, and it became increasingly difficult to hide them. At fourteen she was finally discovered, and the Headmistress kicked her out in a surge of panic, unsure of what to do. Aerith left, and for the next four years traded sex for money, clothes, food… and shaving her horns down to simply “fit in” more than she did. It was while she was sanding down the ebony bone did her father appear to her, demanding that she stop.
Her father took her under his wing, so to speak, and the next ten years Aerith remembers very little. The taste of blood hot in her mouth, the shrieks of terrified women and children, the clash of metal on metal, oily grey smoke rising to the heavens… Uusanaex had disturbed the fragile peace of her warring bloodlines, and the demon side to over, causing blood, death and destruction wherever she went. It was only through the actions of a lucky man breaking off her horn did Aerith return to a more lucid state of being.
After that Aerith exiled herself for years, and has only just returned to the world of mortals. Although she doesn’t remember learning them, her father had taught her many skills, and had bequeathed his power to her through blood.
Weapons: Caedere: a demonic nine-ringed scimitar imbued with Aerith’s blood.
Magic: Minor illusion spell.
Racial abilities include:
The ability to move from one location to another at incomprehensible speeds – or ghosting. Ghosting range is ten to fifteen feet, roughly.
The ability to make her own spilt blood poisonous.
Due to the nature of her blood, she tends to heal more quickly than mortals.
Other: Although she has power gifted to her by blood, Aerith is hesitant to use it. The more she draws on her demonic powers, the more she loses herself to her demon side. Whenever she accesses them, her eyes (iris and all) turn slate black.
Name: Erin Winters
Faceclaim: Amber Heard
Power: Bone manipulation
Personality: Erin has a hard exterior/soft interior type of personality. On the outside she's tough-as-nails and nothing seems to faze her. The truth is Erin is fragile, far more so than she could ever let on. Fully aware of this, Erin works to project an image of someone stronger than she actually is. Sometimes this results in her over compensating and turns her into a bit of a bitch. This happens when she feels especially threatened or vulnerable. Erin is, for the most part, friendly and outgoing. She tends to smile a lot and has an easy laugh. She is very sensitive (but doesn't show) and this leads to her remembering everything -good and bad- that has been done or said to her. She is compassionate but feels that it is a weakness, and so is hesitant to show it.
History: Erin was always a sensitive child; the type of kid that would bring home stray cats and injured birds. Her parents were upper middle class, so Erin never wanted for anything, and they lavished attention on her whenever they had the time - and when they didn't, Erin was more than happy to play with the neighbourhood kids.
It was at the age of eight that Erin's mutation became apparent. Her doling parents reacted swiftly and pulled her out of school immediately, hiring a tutor for homeschooling. Erin lost her friends, and was so rarely seen that even the neighbourhood kids started to think something was up. Rumours began to spread - maybe she was sick? Maybe her parents got rid of her? Children being children, they would imagine the weirdest scenarios that would explain Erin's disappearance.
It happened to be one of those days that Erin was in the backyard playing alone when a few of the kids hopped the fence. It had been two years since they saw her, and they were surprised to see a healthy, hale Erin. They started to ask Erin questions bordering on interrogation: why didn't she go to school anymore? Why didn't she play with them? Why was she always inside? Why? Why?
Erin refused to answer their questions, and when she started to run to the house one of the boys grabbed her arm and wouldn't let go. Erin, panicked and afraid, reacted in the worse way possible and used her power on him, piercing his hand with a sharpened piece of her forearm.
That day Erin's parents packed up, and they were out of the house and on the road in only a few hours. They made it across the border into the US before, and as they got further away from Canada, the more they started to believe they were safe. That was until they were pulled over by not one, not two, but three police officers demanding to see their IDs and passports. Her mother told Erin to run.
She ran into the night, and was seized once by an officer. She pierced him with another bone blade and kept running.
Since then, Erin has tried to hide. But they had her name, her face… there were not many places Erin could go, and when she did find shelter she wasn’t there for very long. Always on the move, she had to suck up her insecurities, her fears, her loneliness, and just keep moving. Erin lived in survival mode – always moving, always seeking shelter, fighting when cornered.
Eventually, she found others like her – others who were prosecuted (violently) for being “different.” Erin found companionship and acceptance with them, but was hesitant to kill any humans. So it really was kill or be killed? Erin didn’t know for sure, but she didn’t think she would be capable of killing another person – normal or otherwise.
The rules of war were illustrated to her quite vividly when their home was raided. She’d seen several of her new-found friends cut down and killed, butchered like animals with just as little regard. That night Erin had learned just how the populous regarded mutants, and just how far they were willing to go to purge humanity of them.
Since that night, Erin has never hesitated to kill a human.
Name: Riven Hadriax
Face claim: Ksenia Solo
Weapon: High-pulse shotgun, railgun pistol, vibro-knife.
Personality: Her family name besmirched by her own actions, Riven works to return the Hadriax name to its former nobility. Although she doesn’t show it, her choices weight heavily on her. She has a strong sense of loyalty and believes that the ends justify the means – if it means one life to save thousands she will be the first to pull the trigger. She has had to adopt this philosophy, however. As her reputation has a tendency to precede her, Riven is uncertain at meeting people for the first time. She seems aloft and a tad rude, but in reality she is trying to gauge their opinion of her. Often it is an unfavorable one. Still, she has gained respect with those she works with, as she is cooperative, talented and efficient. When she is comfortable around people she is more relaxed and less disciplined, willing to express her more playful side.
History: The Hadriax family is a very military family, and at least one member from every generation (though usually it’s far more than one) has served in one capacity or another. Riven’s father is none other than the highly decorated and commended General Andrius Hadriax, her mother the High Councilwoman Janessa Hadriax of Earth’s Defense Committee. As the offspring of such notable individuals Riven was subject to weighty expectations, and even as a child failure left a lasting sting that she could not abide.
She attended Bair Academy, a prestigious military school that only took in children of high-ranking military personal and focused on rigorously training the next generation of soldier. Riven performed exceptionally well in espionage, tactical ambushes and marksmanship. After she completed advance training Riven was immediately assigned to Captain Jarvin Williams’ platoon, a renowned and commended strategic mastermind. In the four years that she served she climbed up the ranks and was soon used extensively by the Captain, serving, at times, as his advisor. Her career was looking more promising as each year passed.
Unfortunately, the Minerva Event put a hold on that, and Riven gained infamy within the military. There is speculation that the only reason why she wasn’t discharged dishonorable was due to her father’s interference. She was heavily demoted but not discharged and has since strived to redeem her family name.
Specialty: Riven works best in the capacity of espionage and infiltration. Her armour is equipped with top-of-the-line technology; a camouflage tech that bends light at an 85% efficacy, making her nearly indictable at a casual glance. The same system can also mask her vitals and body temperature, making her completely invisible to scans.
Past Achievements: The Minerva Event: Captain Jarvin commanded a small fleet of four ships manned with 1458 people. Their mission was to search out and find viable planets that could support human life indefinitely – preferably outside of well-travelled star systems to avoid Cydran interference. Should they encounter hostile forces engagement was determined by success rate: if it wasn’t a 100% win, they were to avoid conflict at all costs.
When scanning the planet PX-81, more commonly called Minerva, several Cydran ships jumped on their location. Minerva was a promising planet, and Jarvin didn’t want to give up the planet and run with “our tails between our legs, goddammit.” He was a tactical genius – superiority in numbers did not always win the battle. And in spite of dissent among the advisors against his foolhardy plans Jarvin could not be moved from his decision. That was when Riven pulled her weapon on her superior officer.
And no one drew to oppose her.
The Captain had stopped, than, shocked to see himself at the wrong end of a gun in his own bridge. Enraged followed, red-faced and ordering that she put her weapon away. Riven had one moment of clarity –a moment that she can remember in perfect detail to this day- when all the sounded faded out, and it became undeniably clear that the man raging before her had been deteriorating ever more, with his advisors – Riven included- shouldering the mantle of command. They had siphoned his power as his commands became more ludicrous, as he became increasingly more unhinged. In the process, however, he suspected as much and had lost his regard for their advice.
She should have shot him.
But she didn’t. Riven holstered her weapon and was promptly arrested for insubordination. Shockingly, Jarvin ordered her into an escape pod.
And then he pushed the launch button.
Jarvin saved her life that day. As she fell to the planet she watched the small fleet move in to attack the Cydran ships. She watched as they were torn apart. She witnessed the deaths of hundreds from the small confines of her escape pod, and watched as more shots were rained down on the small pods that sought to escape the carnage.
For a full week Minerva-cycle the survivors were stranded until the human forces came. No one besides Riven and Jarvin survived from the command ship’s bridge, with a paltry 623 rescued in total from the wreckage. Jarvin needed a scapegoat for the atrocity he committed in his recklessness. His report detailed Riven’s usurpation of his command, her insubordination. She had launched him to the planet via an escape pod.
Riven could dispute him, of course. The man had lost his mind – this much was evident when they discovered him on Minerva, and he was removed from rank with an honorable discharge. Riven could destroy the man with the truth, but the truth would heavily impact moral; Jarvin had won more battles than he’d lost, and was something of a living legend. Instead, she never reported on the events that lead to the Minerva Event. No one but Riven knew what really happened.
Concerns: Riven is infamous for the Minerva Event, and is believed to be responsible for it. Thus, she is believed to have a problem with authority and an issue with disrespecting her superiors. She is never left in one command for too long.
Miscellaneous: She refuses to talk about the Minerva Event.
Name: Victoria DeLoy
Hair Colour: Red
Eye Colour: Blue
Physical Description: Tori’s body type can be described as athletic. She has pale skin and her nose is pierced on the left side (which she wears a small hoop in). Both ears are pierced and an industrial piercing in her right ear.
Style: Tori’s wardrobe contains mostly dark shades of clothing – blacks, greys, dark blues and purples. However, the occasional pop of colour like a pink bra or lime green socks will surface. Her style is mostly casual; graphic shirts with tattoo designs, jeans and a jacket. She has an extensive collection of beanie hats.
Innate Personality: Inwardly, Tori is a myriad of characteristics all woven haphazardly into one person. She is sensitive and vulnerable. She is easily hurt and has a strong fear of rejection. She is reserved and guarded as a result and is uncomfortable with people growing too close. Instinctively she will push people away, regardless of their intentions. She is prone to episodes of depression and withdraws inside herself. She is cynical and angry, overly critical of herself and – by extension – others. She is fiercely independent and tends to internalize rather than express.
Outward Personality: Outwardly, Tori is spontaneous and fairly friendly. She has a dry/sarcastic sense of humor and is rather mischievous. She is seemingly open and is honest when asked for her opinion. She has a strong sense of self and is very proud – she will stand her ground. She doesn’t give up easily; even if it means she might lose, Tori will go down fighting. She’s interested in having a good time all the time, and always keeping the conversation light. Rarely does she ever venture into heavy conversation with others, avoiding such things with a joke and a playful wink.
Favourite Thing: Tori loves to stargaze. She has a book that covers the consolations and the myths behind them. The book is so warn that the pages are creased with repeated dog-folds and general wear and tear.
Theme Song: The Batman theme song! Or this.
Occupation: Tori used to be a drug runner for a friend of her's who also so happened to be her dealer (when she was dabbling in drugs). He paid her for every delivery, but a few weeks before leaving for the Lodge he was arrested, and she lost her "job."
Hobbies: Reading – just about anything. If it’s a good piece of literature, Tori will read it. Art and sketching. Hiking and swimming. And staring at space.
Bad habits: Spiteful when hurt, expects the worse in everyone, smokes, needs caffeine, picks wedgies wherever the hell she is – seriously, it’s uncomfortable. No one wants undies crammed up their bottom. It shouldn’t be a social stigma. She’s also a BIG fan of alcohol, and when it’s consumed what little filter she has tends to just drop, and she’ll say whatever is on her mind. She has awful eating habits (never eats breakfast, will eat chips for dinner, etc).
Favourite Colour: Purple
Background: For the first six years of her life Tori lived with her grandmother José DeLoy, and although she loved the woman dearly she couldn’t help but wonder about her parents. Who they were? Where they were? And more importantly, why didn’t they take her with them? She had asked about them once, but José had grown misty-eyed and proclaimed that she “didn’t know.” Tori never asked again. Not because it hurt her, but because the question had caused her grandmother grief. Tori decided that she didn’t really care where they were, as long as she had her grandma.
Unfortunately, that seemed to be around the time that José had fallen suddenly ill. Whilst her grandmother stayed in the hospital Tori lived with the neighbor, though she insisted every day to see José. She would hears words like “cancer” and “terminal” but couldn’t understand what they meant – all that mattered was that her grandma was sick and that she needed to get better. Sadly, she never did, and died shortly after her diagnosis.
The neighbor herself was too old to raise a child, and so Tori became a ward of the state while they searched for her parents. She was housed with an older couple who were kind, a stroke of good luck all things considering. They were very patient with her, but even so little Tori was still reeling from losing everything in her short life so abruptly, and had refused to speak. She lived inside herself, very quiet and withdrawn from them. It was only when they fostered another little girl named Artemis after a year of Tori's stay did they see an improvement. Tori responded to Artemis better than any of the children at schools, or the numerous child councilors they took her to see, and the two became fast friends, with Artemis unknowingly drawing the previous mute more and more out of her shell. Tori was now no longer just living, but thriving, thanks to Artemis. As luck would have it, though, they did find her father. After assisting him with his path to sobriety and enrolling him into parenting courses, he was deemed fit to take custody of his daughter.
Vincent DeLoy came to the home to claim her, kneeling before her with open arms. Tori had gone into them hesitantly, unsure of the man who called named himself “your father." She wanted to stay with Artemis, but she was forced to go with this man instead. She had cried then, the first time since her grandmother died. Vincent had thought it was for their reunion, but the reality was the Tori was leaving behind another person she loved and into the arms of a stranger.
Vincent did try – she had to give him that. For the first year he really did put in a lot of effort to pull her out of her shell. He had wanted an instantaneous father-daughter bond with Tori, however she was unable to provide that. Eventually, his patience wore down, and the itch came back, and one night Tori was roused from sleep from some shouting, only to find her father snorting cocaine off the coffee table with his friends. And for the following three years, as his behavior deteriorated more and his addictions became more demanding, Tori would avoid her home, sometimes for days at a time. A night at a friend’s house or out on a park bench wasn’t much different to her than a night at home in bed – usually it was a lot quieter when she slept under the stars. It had become increasingly harder to live with her father; whenever they fought he would blame her mother’s apparent suicide on Tori, but immediately afterwards would be reduced to a blubbering mess, begging for Tori’s forgiveness. The chaos of an addict’s home was wearing on her sensitive nature, and it was better to brave the world than her father on a bender.
It was returning home from a three-day hiatus that the smell of rotting meat hit her. When she entered the apartment she found her father slumped over on the couch, his body grey and mottled. She had immediately called the emergency line for assistance from the police, who answered a few hours later and with a coroner. Tori – at eleven years old – was also taking to the station and with no next-of-kin to care for her she was again declared a ward of the state and buried in the foster care system. Her father’s death had been a confirmed overdose.
Since then, Tori had been moved around from home to home, and as she grew older her chances of being adopted dwindled. As more families rejected her she was forced to analysis why. What as so wrong with her that they didn’t want her? With every family that turned away the more she withdrew from them, until she eventually stopped caring about a new home, a new family. Instead, she became reckless, and would intentional bomb interviews. She rejected them - those families that had no interest in adopting a teenager. She dabbled in some recreational drugs, but what really became her vice was alcohol and smoking. She became a bit of a “wild child” but within reason. She didn’t rebel -not against her foster parents, anyways - she simply didn’t care.
Past relationships: The little girl at the foster home, Artemis Gale (Nosuchthing)
Miscellaneous: Speaks a smattering of French.