Angela "Angie" O'Connor
No Hope

Balthasar Guisemere
Altaea: An Age of Revolution

Christina "Roughneck" Ibanez
The Division: Tragedy is Invisible

Deejaza "Jaza" Mereetus
The Elder Scrolls: The Collector Chronicles

Eric Wormwood
The Spirits Within II

Hazan Volintis
Mass Effect: Absolution

Ilyaas Mahmud al-Shabaab
The Resistance

Jester
Betwixt the Eternal Light

Samuel Williams
VIGILANCE: Memento Mori

Simon Brewer
Lone Star

Warren Ames
Us, Redux

Name: Angela "Angie" O'Connor

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Appearance: Standing at roughly six feet two, Angie isn't exactly your typical white girl. With fingertips permanently a dark, grease-tinged brown from all the auto parts she's constantly around, a sneer in her brown eyes and dirty streaks under them, she's everything you'd imagine a grease monkey and an autohead to be. Well, except for the fact that her skin's so white it could double as a solar panel. A light dusting of freckles dot her cheeks and arms, and you might classify her as ginger but she ain't, with a head of hair that's blonde, thick and curly. Her physique is well built (well, well enough from all the years she's spent under cars), and nothing else mars her already dirty features. Her current outfit is that of when she started: a set of blue denim overalls, now grease- and blood-stained from the month of surviving out in the open, underneath that is a white cotton shirt, sports bra, and on her feet she wears her trusty work boots, steel toe-caps of course. Her scruff hair's tied in a short ponytail that she keeps stuffed in her shirt to prevent it from getting caught on anything.

Medical Ailments: N/A

Nationality: Irish-American

Occupation: Mechanic and over-all grease monkey.

Four Week History
The month since the first outbreak happened in DC played hell on Angie. When the first sporadic viral cases popped up in the city, she paid them no mind, but once the news started reporting closer and closer to her home, she decided on an action plan straight from her favorite movie: to grab whatever she could, arm herself, maybe grab a friend or two, head for the nearest pub, grab a pint and wait for all of this to blow over.

Obviously, that's not what happened.

At the end of the first two weeks, she'd lost her home, the majority of her stuff and all the friends that she scrounged together that weren't already dead, three to shamblers that broke into the pub they had fortified (no surprise there) and one to a random looter. That left her, for the most part, alone. She spent the remainder of that time following the news reports and military broadcasts to Dulles International, where she'd holed up with the rest of the ill-begotten survivors. That was, until, chaos erupted around her again and she was forced to abscond. Finding transport out was the biggest of her concerns, and the tag-alongs that had also found the same bus she did were additional comforts to her. Through the chaos and the gruel that was the slog out of Dulles, she did what she could to keep the bus running, but when someone out there took potshots at the motley crew, damaging the bus, she knew the thing would go no further.

Now she survives, barely hanging on, but determined to live, on a daily basis, at least.

Items of Interest:

• 1x backpack
• 1x flat-head screwdriver
• 1x pocket multi-tool
• 2x 500ml plastic water bottles, one half full, the other full
• 1x set of coveralls, grease stained but otherwise in good condition
• 2x extra shirts
• 1x box of wheat crackers
• 1x map of DC
• 1x whiskey flask, 3/4 full with Jack Daniels

Weapons:

• 1x aluminium baseball bat
• 1x lead pipe

Name: Balthazar Guisemere

Age: 46

Race: Valanian

Nationality: Volintisian

Allegiance: King Lothair, formerly, and now Prince Lucius. No one else.

Appearance: He stands six feet four inches tall,

Profession: Mercenary, formerly of King Lothair's Royal Guard.

Biography: Once he served as part of the Royal Guards during the reign of King Lothair, being a personal bodyguard to the king himself. After the assassination, Balthazar still served under the Dauphin de Valania, Prince Lucius, and life was still alright, though he was quite saddened by his king's untimely demise. Then Sarife invaded, the Prince was forced into exile, the Puppet King Richter was put in place instead and Balthazar snapped. He'd had enough, and promptly left the Royal Guards of his own volition. Broken-hearted, sullen and weary, he set forth on a life of wandering, scouring the world for a new purpose in life. At the time, he did not know of the Prince's exile, but when he returned to Valania fourteen years later, rumours reached his ears of the throne's rightful heir being an exile from his own home. During the decade and a half that he was absent, he travelled the world as a sword for hire, fighting in wars for coin and earning many scars and weapons as rewards. Now, armed with exotic weapons, heightened combat skills and a renewed sense of purpose, he seeks out Prince Lucius to serve as a guard to royalty one more, and to be used as a weapon by the heir to the throne to seek out enemies of Valania and end them personally.

Notable skills/abilities: Extremely proficient in armed and unarmed combat. An able marksman and proficient horseback rider.

Other Notes:

• He is equipped with a scimitar in a sheath on his left hip, two boot knives, several poor man's grenades on his belt, a set of flint and steel and a bardiche. He wears an almost full set of gothic plate armour, minus the helmet and several small pieces of armour, and a cape with the livery of King Lothair's Royal Guard on full display. The armour and cape are all a deep dark blue, bordering on black, and he normally wears the cape the wrong way up, with the former king's livery hidden against his back instead of out in the open.
• As part of his reputation as one of the most fearsome fighters and soldiers in Valania, he is mostly known only by his nickname as the Ghost of Valania, being a remnant of the old Kingdom, once forgotten, now a bitter and weary soul with one thing in mind: vengeance against the Puppet King. As such, he has many contacts amongst the resistant public; the whores, ex-soldiers, barmen, workers, beggars and the lost and oppressed.
• His goal is firstly to seek out Prince Lucius, no easy task in the city. After that, he aims to assist the Prince in whatever ends he requires to regain his rightful throne and to restore proper rule and stability to Valania.

Appearance


Name
Christina Ibanez

Age
33

Gender
Female

Call Sign
Roughneck (though people call her Roughie for short)

Personnel Description
Christina regularly doles out what she calls 'tough love' mainly because it's what she does. Fiercely protective of her teammates, comrades and friends, Roughie regularly does stuff others would consider uncouth for a lady of her occupation; butting into rooms to check on people unannounced, doing random, unscheduled checkups on her teammates that sorta thing. She's gruff, tough, cynical and sarcastic, but that doesn't mean she hides her heart of gold; she genuinely cares about her teammates, so much so that she'd go to any length to protect them. Amongst her friends and peers she is not the rough-and-tumble soldier she normally is in a battle, rather, she's a sweet, charming and friendly young woman who loves to have fun and talk shop. Her favorite things to do if not on duty are to enjoy ice cream and go out with her friends.

In battle, she is a headstrong medic, oft times taking charge of situations if there isn't anyone to do so. Her attitude also leads to recklessness however, and combined with her protective nature it makes her quite a dangerous soldier to be around, as she will often charge straight through fire to try and save you without questioning her own safety, which often leads to her also suffering an injury or two in the process.

Backstory
Being a combat medic is never fun; it's one of the toughest responsibilities in being in the military, yet someone has to do it, right? Ever since Christina enlisted into the army, that's what she thought to herself, and still does to this very day, long after most of her unit perished during the initial waves of infection and death. She never even knew how they'd been infected, one day she'd received a notice on her phone, a list, stating the names and tag numbers of every soldier in her company that had died due to the infection. The battalion wasn't going to hold a funeral; there were too many dead. Instead, a remembrance service was to be held across the country, in San Francisco, where she'd been born, coincidentally. By then, New York was in lockdown, so she was unable to attend, much to her disappointment.

Born to a wholly Spanish family in San Fran, Christina made the decision to move to New York early on in life, after she graduated from high school. In the Big Apple, she enrolled herself in medical school and emerged three years later as a registered nurse, but the slow, often monotonous life bored her. So she did what came to her naturally and did the next best thing: she enlisted. She spent the requisite ten weeks in BCT at Fort Jackson in Georgia, following which she was sent to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas to undergo the four month EMT course that came after. Once done with that, she was attached to the 69th Infantry Regiment in New York City, where she spent the rest of her military days up to the outbreak. She even participated in Operation Enduring Freedom in 2008, a harrowing experience that tested her abilities straight to the max. She never did treat any of the four casualties of her regiment during the mission, but news filtered down the grapevine about them, and even she knew how stressing it was to be a medical soldier out in a real battlefield.

After the outbreak, the 69th did what they could to suppress the riots within their home city of the Big Apple, but soon their efforts were quashed more and more as their soldiers fell to rioters and the infection that spread like wildfire through the city. She watched friends of hers die on beds in overcrowded hospitals, and swore that day not to let any more of her comrades die in vain. Her unwavering dedication to the protection of her fellow women and men led The Division to her; they needed a medic as loyal and dedicated as she was, and thus she was introduced into the squad.

Role
Combat Medic/Support

Inventory
Given Items

• Contact Lens
• Go-Bag
• Respirator
• Smart Watch
• Signal Flare
• Computer

Personal Inventory

• 1 x pneumatic tourniquet
• 1 x field first aid kit
• 1 x field respirator
• 3 x morphine injection pens
• 1 x SAM (or flexible) splint
• 2 x rolls of crepe bandages
• 1 x oropharyngeal airway

Weapons
Primary
Her main weapon is the FN SCAR-H Mk 17 LB battle rifle. Chambered in powerful 7.62mm rounds, this high powered rifle best suits Christina in fights where she needs to get somewhere fast.

Secondary
Her sidearm is the SIG Sauer P226 9mm pistol. One of the most common pistols in the world, it's standard issue to police in most parts of the US.

Melee
Her melee weapon is the rather simple Ka-bar boot knife. It's sharp and pointy and is designed to be poked into aggressors.

Talents

• First Aid - Her nursing background, combined with the four months she spent in Fort Sam Houston as part of her EMT training, has imbued her with all the medical knowledge and know-how she needs to handle herself in any situation that requires medical attention.
• Basic Pharmacology - While not as experienced as your average doctor or dispensary aide, Christina is knowledgeable enough on the spectrum of common drugs available to nurses, and some of the less common ones too.
• Basic Surgery - With her nursing background comes experience in handling surgical equipment, not as good as a proper trained surgeon, but give her a blade to cut open a wound to remove a bullet while under fire, and she will do it without hesitating. Such is the extent of her abilities.
• Veteran CQC - Christina took to unarmed combat like a fish to water, and this combined with her extensive knowledge of the human body gave her a few feet up against her peers in the combat course, for she knows exactly where and how to strike a person to make them go down instantly, or to knock them out like a light, or any other condition she wants them in.

Name: Deejaza "Jaza" Mereetus

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Race: Argonian

Class: Archer

Physical Description:



Skillset:



History:



Equipment:

• A quiver of Iron Arrows
• A Long Bow
• Two Iron Daggers
• Leather Armour (minus the helmet cause those helmets never fit Argonian heads)

Known Spells:
- Novice-level Healing

Name: Ilyaas Mahmud Al-Shabaab (or just Mahmud for short)

Alias: Nice Guy

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Straight



Appearance:

Height: 5' 8"

Weight: 170 pounds

Body Type: His body type is well enough muscled for his age, even though he doesn't work out too much; broad shoulders, strong arms, tight, packed abs and a muscled back, all remnants from his construction job.

Distinguishing Marks: -

Clothing Style: He dresses rather casually, in a shirt and jeans and sneakers. Nothing really special about him. He has a string bracelet around his left wrist, a reminder of home.

“Perhaps you would be interested in our range of premium cable sets? They are able to receive as many as one hundred and fifty channels, both local and from overseas.”

Personality: Ilyaas is a quiet, soft spoken man. Kind hearted and compassionate, he is the sort of person that would help anyone that needs help. Sadly his time spent working dead end jobs with horrible colleagues has made him cynical and withdrawn, and although his original personality is more dominant, bits and pieces of it unravel at times when he'd upset, angry, frightened or otherwise stressed. In states of extreme pressure, he grows cold and distant to regain his focus and composure.

Biography: Born in Iraq, Ilyaas came to America with the slight hope that he could find a good life and a good job to finance his family back home. Sadly, that was never to be. He landed himself in a construction firm simply as the labour, and he worked his ass off for minimum wage for years, barely able to support himself in his rented room. He wasn't all that unique, just another face in the crowd that passed by the coffee shops and grocery stores every day.

When he discovered his powers, it was during a very stressing day at work. His vitriolic colleagues had harassed him to the point of him almost breaking down, but he persevered and fought through everything to complete his work for the day. When it came time to sign out, however, he found that suddenly everyone was ignoring him, and not just his colleagues too. Everyone. People on the street, bus drivers, the cashier at a diner he went to, everyone seemed to not notice him. It wasn't until he realised that point, then willed himself to be noticeable, that his presence was suddenly acknowledged. Thus he realised his ability: to become invisible at will.

He's old enough to have seen and lived through the invasion by the Crusaders and the Technopath. His powers helped him immensely; after all, even the big bad is human. His powers apparently extended through the cameras that popped up all over the city, as well as the sensors within the Crusaders. Virtually invisible, he was free to roam about the city, but life would never be the same. He joined the Resistance mainly because his ability allowed him to walk amongst the enemy unnoticed.

Skills: Estimation and guesswork are his mainstays from his previous time as a construction worker, while number crunching and observation stem from his current experience as a store clerk and cashier.

Powers: Ilyaas has the power of perception filtering; now what that means is that he is able to filter and affect the perceptions of people around him to exclude him from their attention. For example, he can alter the perceptions of people around him to not notice him even though he is standing amongst them. He is able to do things to them or change the environment around them and they will not notice his physical presence at all, not until he turns off his power. People under the spell of this power will often attribute his actions as due to their own luck or unobservant behaviour or clumsiness, and the mesmer is powerful enough to work on anyone within in a twenty foot circle around him. He will even "disappear" from things like video feeds, security cameras, phone cameras and other video or imaging devices; even though he is physically present in the feeds, he will not be noticed by whoever is watching unless he lowers his mesmer.

In essence he can make himself invisible without actually physically turning invisible.

_{“...you aren't listening to me are you.”}

The Jester.
_{"But it's just Jester to you, wise guy."}



By all means, the Jester is a scrawny looking chap. Standing five feet ten, with more lean muscle than meat, clad in dirty clown clothes and a mask that hides his scarred features and a face that never smiles, he is the very definition of an out-of-work clown.
_{"I ain't outta work, it's just a phase."}

The bells on his worn hat, though tarnished and old, still ring clearly, each and every movement making the bells dance and jingle softly, its notes haunting in the black, for friends and foes alike.
_{"Ey, these things are a warning, y'know. T'let people know I'm comin'."}


- A dagger, old and rusty but sharp as a point, it's actually more like a broken long sword than anything else, judging by how the blade isn't whole and the hilt is longer than a regular dagger.
_{"It hurts people just fine. No fixing needed. 'Cept to keep the blade sharp."}

- A sickle. Originally a farmer's implement, the Jester, some time in his past, made one his own. It's sharp and stained with dried blood.
_{"But most importantly it's sharp."}

- A waterskin. Being a former entertainer meant keeping his throat healthy.

-A leather sling bag. It holds a few days worth of rations, a whetstone, a flint and tinderbox and a broken compass.
_{"The compass helps me navigate. Don't think of it as broken, it's just leadin' me where I'm supposed to be."}

- A lute. Made of a light oak wood, stained a deep brown, the lute is still perfectly tuned.
_{"Maybe it's because I've been tuning it, stupid."}


The Beat
_{"Pleasure's all mine. Now, what am I supposed to do? Okay, so I'll be playing for the king, yeah? Alright. Is the coin good? Good enough? No it has to be perfect, man, I swear. This is my life we're talking about here, and I'm not gonna take "good enough" for an answer. Alright fine. Look, I'll sort things out on my end, you do so with yours. In two weeks, I'll be outta here and no longer your problem. Just... Get it done, alright? I'll owe you a big one. Once I'm settled, you find me and I'll see how I can repay you."}

Razor's Out
_{"Look, boss, I swear it's true. Yeah, everythin' went according to plan; guy's dead, body's fed to the pigs. No trace, I swear. Yeah, I know. No I don't know who this other douchebag is. No he wasn't part of the plan. Yes, I-...I know, I know, but he showed up without any warning! Yes I took care of him too. Yes, yes I know. *sigh* I got my reasons. Yeah, a dame, love of my life, but listen boss, I want out. What d'you mean, there's no outs?! You distinctly told me there was always an out! Well okay then, what sorta job is it? ...fine, alright I'll do it, but listen, this is the last job, alright? I do this, I split, forever, I won't see you ever again and I won't be a massive pain in the ass."}

I Won't Stop
_{"Gotta keep goin'. We can't stop, not now, not ever. Got to get outta the city, find someplace safe to rest. Yes dear I know, it'll be fine. We're not gonna die, don't worry, I'll kill all the bastards that try. Don't you look at me like that, you know where I come from, you know what you were gettin' yourself into. Look, ugh, I'm workin' things out, alright? I'm going through some stuff, cuttin' all my ties with that place, don't you worry. We'll be untouched where we're goin', I'll make sure of it. Now take the horse 'n go! I'll catch up with you! Leave these bastards to me! Don't you worry, I'll find you! Now go! GO!"}

A dirt road. It's night time. Foggy. I hear horses. Frenzied hoofbeats on dirt and mud and stone. A woman screaming in fear. I remember following behind the lady. She is with child. I am riding a horse. The men behind me are similarly armed. Weary of the chase, I stop and dismount. The lady screams my name. I pay her no mind and confront my pursuants. Then I remember blood.

The Road to Redemption
_{"Ah don't worry kid. It'll only be until we get a better place to stay, alright? Daddy's gotta work to get coin, and this is the only way daddy knows how to. Besides, it'll be in the palace! Daddy can tell you all about how the king and the queen! Now lemme see you smile. Lemme see. Smile fer me kiddo, else you ain't gettin' a good night kiss. There ya go. Prettiest gal in the whole neighbourhood, you are. My sunshine. Now get to sleep, you got a long day ahead a' you tomorrow, 'n daddy's gotta work for you n' mommy, alright? Relax, sweet cheeks, I'll be fine. I promise."}

Sunlight streaming through a window. A young girl sits on a chair at a table, eating oats. I sit next to her, a hand gently stroking through her thick, brown hair. The room is homely. Small, but comfortable.

She's so pretty.

That's my girl. My baby.

My sweet, sweet child.

Heaven
_{"Daddy's home! Oh hey kiddo, c'mere give daddy a big ol' hug! Thaaat's right! Now you're squeezin' the life outta me, leggo! Hehe, how was your day today, sunshine? You met a whole buncha new kids eh? Didja make any new friends? That's great! You'll settle in just fine, sunshine, no sweat. Who, me? I ain't silly, sweet cheeks. Well, today was a good day. I got to meet the king today! How was he? Well he's this old guy, like daddy, but his hair's all grey, and he wears this loooong cape and a crown with shiny jewels in it. Yeah, he's the king baby! The biggest fish in the sea, and daddy gets to play to him for coins! Yeah, sunshine! You couldn't ask for better, right? Where's mommy? She's sleeping? Alright, let's you and me give her a surprise, shall we?"}

A Job
_{"Yeah, I'm the king's jester, so what? You got anything against that? I make the funnies and make people laugh for coins. It's my job. So sue me. No you can't pull that on me no more, wise guy, I left that life behind. I left it behind, dammit! I swore an oath! I went on one last fuckin' job! I gave it all up! And now you're wantin' me back in?! No way! I have a wife and daughter I have to upkeep! What d'you mean the coin's not enough? I get paid well enough to enjoy life, wise guy, so keep yer money comments to yourself! Look, I made her a promise that I'd stay away from you forever. Yeah, I know I made a promise to you too, but I am not gonna repay you by offing the person I work for! Maybe a drink or something, yeah, but not like this! You want to kill the king, fine, I'll have to work at the tavern again, but I am not the one to kill him. Go find someone else. I'm done with you."}

No one ever told me about the prices one pays for freedom. In hindsight, I guess I was foolish enough not to pay attention to his words. There I stood, blood soaking into my boots. Bodies all around. Everyone was dead. There was nothing else to do, so I ran.

I hid.

But I swore one thing.

I'd make him pay.



Shit...my head. Hurts.

I was surrounded by darkness. Enclosing. Trapping me in its embrace. I shook it off and stood. I was disoriented, confused, head was spinning, nothing was making sense, but as I got right with myself things started being more and more coherent. I wasn't on a road no more. I was in this...place. Smelled damp, moldy. Like the inside of someone's old sock drawer. Unfamiliar terrain. Felt like dirt beneath my feet. I could see in front of my face but the dark around me was thick, heavy, like a fog someone had dyed black. Pea soup. Hell, I couldn't have asked for a worse place to wake up from...whatever had knocked me out. At least I still had my things with me, else I'd have tracked the damn cutpurse that took my gear and made him pay. Now, I had to get out of here. There was...somethin' that needed doin'.

But what?

Wait, where am I?
_{That, my friend, is the million gold question.}

The hell? Who're you?
_{I'm you.}

You're me? Wait...who am I?
_{You're you, and I'm you.}

Wait that doesn't make any sense. I'm me.
_{See? That makes perfect sense.}

I shook my head. What in the world?! I tried to think, to focus on my name, but nothing came up. Absolutely nothing. Then, as I was trying to calm myself, memories drifted up from my unconscious like a wellspring. A woman. A young girl. Blades, knives. A king. Blood.

Death.

Shit. This didn't make any sense at all. I didn't even remember what I was doing before I woke up! This was stupid!
_{The wrong man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world.}

Shut up! I'm trying to think here!

Okay, focus.

I took to examining my surroundings a bit more. At my feet, there was a torch, still damp with, as I sniffed my fingers, oil. Slung on my shoulders there was a pack. Inside there was food (thankfully, something right in the world), a waterskin, some other assorted junk, but what I saw was two pieces of flint. A striker, excellent. I fished the stones out of my bag and picked up the torch. Holding the thing between my knees, I struck a spark with the flint and poof, it went up instantly. Light. More things going right for me today, whatever today was. I kept the stones back in the bag and held up my light. It cut through the black like a knife it did, and I saw more than I wanted to.

Irregular stone obelisks jutted out of the ground around me. Some were broken, the rubble scattered out on the dirt, while others extended high, way high into the black sky, farther than I could see. There were no trees, no paths, just the obelisks. They weren't even evenly spaced apart, more like someone had just tossed stone seeds out on the dirt and let them grow into these...things, without caring for organisation or something. Typical. Pfft.

The light also, well, lit myself, and for the first time I could gauge myself. I felt like myself, after all. I reached up to touch my head (I must've hit the back of it when I went down), and found myself touching fabric. Cotton, in long spindles that tapered off to a point ended by a...bell.

A bell?

Okay, I was wearing a hat of some sort. Fine. I took it off and held it in front of me without burning it. The thing looked like some sort of strange, otherworldly beast in the flickering torch light, with its long spindles of fabric and slightly reassuring bells and their soft jingles. The colour on the fabric was faded, yes, but I made out colour. There was patches of red, green, yellow, blue, orange, every other colour in the rainbow, and as I looked down I saw the same sort of attire, faded coloured tunic, pants and soft leather boots. I put the hat back on my head and went to touch my face, but a cold plate got in the way.

The hell?

I was wearing a mask?

My mask.
_{Our mask.}

I tried to make out the features of it in the light, but apart from the two holes for eyes, I didn't see anything else on it. It was as pale white as the whites of my eyes. Funny. I looked like a fuckin' joke, like some sort of clown.

Clown...was I one? Was I
_{a jester}

a jester? That sounded about right. I didn't even know my own fuckin' name, what a joke, but I guess I could call myself Jester until then. Yeah, that would work. Fuckin' Jester the...jester, make you laugh, make you cry, make you bleed your fuckin' bones dry. Har de har har.

Well whatever the case, I didn't feel safe here, not at all. I had to get moving. With one foot into the black, the other soon followed. I didn't know where I was going, or where I was gonna go, but I had to find answers.

I had to.
_{Or else one of us is going to get very, very}

"You may have swag, but I've got swing."

Vitals

Name: Jonathan "Johnny Two-Step" Clarke Gable

Title: Maestro

Age: 29

Sex: Male

Date of birth: 26th July, 1986

Lineage: -

Class/Major: Pugilist

Class/Minor: Mage

Occupation: Wandering Pugilist

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Marital Status: Single

Birthplace: Basin, Caesura

Blood Type: A+

Eye Color: Blue

Height: 6' 4"

Weight: 166 lbs

Hair Color/Style: Short brown hair, well kept in a left side parting.

General Appearance: A lean, lanky individual, Jonathan is also impeccably dressed at every occasion he can afford to. His main dress is a navy blue suit ensemble, consisting of a navy blue suit jacket with thin white pinstripes, a darker navy inner waistcoat, a stark white cuffed shirt and a navy blue tie, along with slacks and his signature black leather tap-dancing shoes. He also sports plain white dress gloves and a simple, thin watch on his right wrist, and a nice, blue fedora with a white band around the body of the hat.

Skin Tone/Condition: Normal Caucasian skin tone, slightly tan.

Markings: -

Combat Stats

Dominant Hand: Right

Equipment:

-Upper Body: -

-Lower Body: -

Weapons

• Basin Street - A pair of tap-dancing shoes fortified with specially enchanted metal plates on the toes, soles and heels. The shoes are always paired with a pair of white, cotton socks that are also enchanted with magic. The spells on the shoes grant Johnny's legs with the powers of speed and air manipulation, also known as sound. The spells on the socks are strengthening spells that grant his legs, feet and hips with enhanced endurance and strength to accompany the power of his shoes.
  
  Johnny fights using a style comprised of a few things, that was taught to him by the masters of old in his home city of Basin. This fighting style mainly uses the feet, with the addition of the hands as pivot points or supports, similar to that of the Brazilian martial art Capoeira. However, the main difference is that this style also incorporates many elements of Tae Kwon Do in it, specifically the many low to high standing and crouching kicks, along with the intricate footwork of tap-dancing to confuse and distract opponents.

Abilities

• Enhanced Endurance, Speed and Strength (Lower Body) - This ability allows Johnny to kick with increased strength and power, and also being able to block and withstand blows of a similar power using only his legs and feet. The speed aspect lets him essentially kick at the speed of sound or over, effectively letting him kick with the power of a sonic boom at maximum efficiency.
• Enhanced Agility

Magic

• Beat - Johnny uses his sound power and stomps hard down on the ground once. The impact, combined with one good, strong push of air vibrations, results in an extremely large shockwave that expands from his foot and dissipates over distance, to a maximum effective range of twenty feet. Multiple Beats strung together in sequence can create a devastating earthquake that can destroy small structures, more detail in the section on Staccato below.
• Scratch - Manipulating the air around the toe and heel of his shoes, Johnny is able to create blades of compressed air by kicking in a short arc either from left to right or vice versa. The length, speed and strength of the air blades are directly determined by his kicks. Short, fast kicks produce many smaller blades that are easily blocked but are overwhelming in number, while longer, slower kicks result in bigger, stronger blades that take a fair bit of strength to overcome, akin to trying to stop a MLB batter's home-run swing.
• Crash - If Beat is the starter, Crash is the coup de grace. By hopping into the air a short distance, drawing his feet in and then kicking downwards upon landing with the force of a jet plane fly-by, Johnny is able to stamp a humongous shockwave into the ground that ripples and explodes the earth in circles around him. Each explosion increases in intensity the further it gets from him, to a maximum of three explosions in three perfect circles around him.
• Staccato - By tap-dancing on the ground, imbuing each hit with Beat, Johnny enters Staccato mode, Beating an earthquake into the ground that he controls. The intensity and strength of it is determined by how fast and how strong the Beats are, to a maximum of a 8 or 9 on the Richter scale, an extremely devastating earthquake that he can only maintain for several seconds before he has to stop and move to avoid being harmed by his own attack.
• Accent - With a high or low straight kick, powered by air, Johnny is able to shoot bullets of compressed air at impressive speeds that can break bone and cause concussions with the impacts. These bullets, or Accents, are aimed simply by way of the direction he kicks in, up in the air or down low at the ground, so as long as it's a straight kick and not a curved kick.

Bio

Voice: Deep, smooth basso.

Personality: Johnny is a very laid back and suave fellow, one you would see leaned up against a wall or a bar counter, drink in one hand, a woman in the other. He's smooth and slick, cunning and feisty, yet kind spirited and gentle to boot, in stark contrast to his fighting style. A ladies man all the way, he is the most gentlemanly to those of the fairer gender, going out of his way to make sure they receive the utmost respect that befits them. With other guys, he's very chummy, the bro amongst other bros, and you'll never see him without a smile on his face unless something's very, very wrong, because Johnny is also very optimistic and cheerful, something that's helepd him all through his life.

Backstory: Johnny hails from the tribe of the Swing people; collectively known as the Oldies of Oldtown, his tribe are one of the oldest in the whole of the land. The music they practice and play is also one of the oldest forms of music in the land, as attested to by their elders. Eons ago, Jazz, Swing and Blues were formed from the hearts and souls of the early Caesurans during their trials and tribulations of terraforming their unstable land into their homes. Their blood, sweat and tears distilled through their emotions and into their voices and song, and thus the Trifecta of Trials were born. Jazz, Swing and Blues make up this trio, and Johnny's tribe were the first of the Swingsters in Caesura. He is of their current generation, when the music has reached new levels of ingenuity and excellence yet they dream higher and greater, and he carries these hopes and dreams of his people with him.

Being a current generation Swingster brings along its share of troubles, and for Johnny, nothing was more troubling than being the sole heir to their style of self defense. All Swingsters knew how to fight to defend themselves, that was true, but Johnathan Twostep was the upcoming heir to the title of Maestro of Swing, something that he didn't quite fancy. Sure, he was the best fighter they had, but he simply didn't want the high life. He enjoyed his time spent in the dives and bars of his home town, Basin, and the relevant dangers that posed to his health. He loved the adrenaline and the adventure of it all. Being the Maestro meant that he'd spend the rest of his days cooped up in some boring school, teaching all the young Swingsters how to fight and to defend themselves. Not a life for him. He left Basin a week before he was to inherit the mantle, and as such his whole town got into an uproar.

Now he wanders the multiverse, having fallen into a portal while running from those that pursue him. Still with no real idea of where he's going or how he travels, he wanders in search of a good challenge.

Others

-

Name: Simon Brewer

Race: Human

Appearance: Simon stands 6' 1" tall, weighing in at a paltry 165 pounds. His physique is that of a lean, muscled man, not much weight on him but he's fit enough for his duties. With a head of messy blonde hair and brown eyes, freckles and a slightly crooked nose, he isn't a real looker either, all in all putting out an image of your average everyday human male.

Personality: Simon is one of those people that sticks out his neck for his friends. Very humble, helpful and caring for those under him, he regularly makes himself out to be one of those guys that is liked by everyone in the workplace, even though he's mostly silent. He communicates his happiness or pleasure the most with his bright smiles and cheerful demeanour, even if he says little. More often than not, his actions convey his feelings more than his words do. He is also slow to anger, and takes criticism with a level head and optimism to soften harsh words or gestures. He is also often referred to as a mediator or a counsellor, in part due to these tendencies of his.

Class: Medical Officer

Skills:
Expert
Class - Field and General Medicine
Class - Combat Surgery

Skilled
General - Electronics

Proficient
Combat - Marksmanship

Non-standard Abilities: N/A

Equipment



PharmCo Full Surgical Field Assembly

• 5 x PharmCo MediGel Tubes (Instructions: twist open top, squeeze contents liberally onto wound) - These small, palm-sized tubes are full of PharmCo's proprietary MediGel, a non-toxic gelatin-based healing agent that speeds up cellular growth and regeneration, and prevents profuse bleeding. Its method of action is, after application, the cold gel rapidly warms from body heat and melts, turning into a liquid that diffuses and is absorbed quickly into the body. Once there, haematostatic agents within the liquid act quickly on open blood vessels, causing clotting and preventing any further bleeding, while regrowth agents activate and superspeed the body's ability to heal, quickly sealing any small or medium-sized wounds. The gel is quick-acting, and are normally used in the field by combat medics to stabilise casualties with small to medium-sized wounds. Larger wounds, however, will require more stabilisation than just gel and morphine. Designed by PharmCo to be effective on any form of biological tissue, human or alien!
• 5 x PharmCo Quick-use Syrettes (Instructions: pop top with thumb, insert needle end into exposed flesh, wait five to ten seconds, remove and dispose) - These syrettes are filled with numbing morphine, and are made from a special 3D-printer and refiller within his armour's chest plate. He can only carry five at a time and the amount of spare morphine he carries is limited to another ten syrettes.
• 1 x PharmCo Disinfectant Aerosol Canister (Instructions: pop top, shake well, spray on area to be treated) - Also known as a simple disinfectant spray, this hand-sized spray canister contains a specialised liquid that, upon being aerosolised, is capable of removing 99.9% of bacterial or viral agents in a specified area. It also contains a moderate amount of a topical anesthetic that numbs an area in preparation for treatment.
• 1 x PharmCo Malleable Splint - A mid-sized device, this roll of malleable, high-strength plas-steel is made for casualties with broken limbs. Once removed from its plastic seal, the splint can be unrolled and then formed precisely according to the limb that is injured. Once formed, the material will stay solid and stiff while the casualty is being transported, and is easily cut open or removed upon reaching a field hospital or surgical suite.

PharmCo Laser-Assisted Surgical Cutter


PharmCo Adaptive Medical Solution Device

• Painkiller Rounds - These special capsule rounds are designed to be fired at allied targets. When they burst on impact with a solid surface, say armour, the pressurised liquid painkillers within aerosolise and disperse into a cloud that a soldier can inhale to suppress his pain and keep on functioning as long as it takes for a medic to reach him.
• Morphine Syrettes - If the medical officer or orderly on hand does not have the time to reach for a syrette from his back pouch, he can instead load a syrette that's already attached onto the gun's side into the rifle's breech on the top of the assembly. Once done, the gun's onboard computer system detects that it is firing syringes, and will lower its power output significantly to reduce injury. Pulling the trigger will apply the syrette similar to an injection gun, and the syrette is easily removed by simply pulling the gun barrel away from the patient's flesh. Of course, if the gun's safety system is overridden, it can and will fire a syrette at railgun speeds with deadly accuracy, though it's not designed to. Each AMSD comes pre-fitted with two syrettes on either side of the gun assembly.
• Surgical Staples - Just like the syrettes, each AMSD comes pre-fitted with a double load of superstrength alloy staples, on either sides of the gun in small, disposable loader magazines. When a load of staples are pushed into the rifle barrel, its computer detects the wanted function and lowers its power levels to make it function as an overly large staple gun. Once this is done, the AMSD can be used to quickly close gaping wounds, similar to a modern medical staple gun. And, just like the above mentioned, if the safety system is overridden, the AMSD will fire its staples with deadly force, though it's not designed to.
• MediGel - The only load for the AMSD that is not dangerous when fired, MediGel is able to be loaded within the AMSD and applied over a longer surface, much like how a glue gun works. The rifle's barrel is more suited for insertion into slightly gaping wounds, thus allowing the medical officer or orderly to apply gel to deeper wounds, thus stimulating healing from the inside out and enabling him to quickly treat a casualty with moderately serious wounds.

Bio: Simon Brewer is a surgeon and combat doctor, human of course, but not born on Earth. Instead, he came to be on a colony on Mars, and his interest in medicine was piqued due to his family's attachment to the colony's lone clinic and surgical suite. From an early age he was attracted to the study of biology, the human body, what makes it tick and so on, and his parents were happy to help him in his studies. After high school they enrolled him into medical school back on Earth, specifically in New Boston, after which he graduated as an assistant medical orderly. Shortly thereafter, he furthered his career in medicine and became a full-fledged doctor, specialising in reconstructive surgery, before returning to his home on Mars to work at the family clinic.

It wasn't long before Simon's talents were found by PharmCo. The roving military medical company's talent scouts approached Simon with a proposition: work at one of the most prestigious medical firms in the galaxy, and in return have the opportunity to explore the furthest reaches of space in their everpresent attempts to understand alien biology and to deepen their studies of medicine in both human and alien physiologies. His interest highly piqued, he signed on, and after three months of preparatory training, he was shipped from Mars to one of PharmCo's largest life ships, the PCLS Nightingale. Once there, he was given a lab for his own use and he joined the Nightingale's research staff as one of the doctors en suite. With the PharmCo staff, he looked into the effects of their proprietary products, like MediGel, on both human and alien test subjects, as well as helping them test various sets of equipment meant for their military wing.

Soon it dawned upon him that PharmCo, as ambitious as they were, were a primarily military company in structure, as most of their inventions went to the Terran Federation military, for use in battlefield scenarios in the hands of field medics and surgeons. And, by that time, Simon had grown bored of the ship life. Tempted by the prospects, he approached his superiors with a request: have him be a field tester for their medical military gear and technology. The job came with high risks - death obviously being one of them, injury being another, getting shot at being a third - but the perks were higher; he'd get to visit more alien worlds, use the gear provided by the company, along with a larger risk pay packet and hefty bonuses for putting his life on the line in the name of medicine. He agreed on the spot. A new contract was signed and two weeks later Simon was on his very first deployment as a medical officer attached to a Federation Navy vessel, where he underwent rigorous physical training to meet the military's standards.

His first deployment is to the Lone Star, where he was to assess the vessel's safety, along with assuring the safety of his squad and keeping them in tip top shape. However, the details of who he was going with were sketchy, nonexistent at times, and though he isn't really looking forward to working with unknowns, he keeps his chin up, in the hopes that this first mission will be a success.

Quote: "Stay still, I'm trying to help you. Just keep calm, relax. You're safe."

"That'll be twenty dollars ma'am. No ma'am. No. I. Do. Not. Accept. Loose. Change. Only bills please."

---

Name: Warren Ames

Age: 62

Gender: Male

Former Occupation: Cashier, Vietnam War veteran.

Appearance:

Height: 5' 10"

Weight: 180 lbs

Scars/Tattoos/Other: A US Marine Corps tattoo on his left arm, faded now with his old age.

Past Affiliates:

• His old military friends, men from his platoon and company that lived, fought and died alongside him. Some made it back to the States to attempt to reintegrate back into normal society, most came home in boxes.
• His old landlord, a younger man named Miguel. The two shared an odd form of respect: neither bothered the other; Ames paid his rent on time and with the exact amount, not a cent more or less, and Miguel minded his own business about some of the old man's...eccentricities. After the outbreak occured Ames lost track of the Spaniard, maybe he's still alive out there somewhere. He really doesn't know.
• A neighbour, by the name of Richardson, more specifically the widow of said Richardson. Her husband had passed some years before and she lived alone in the apartment across from his, and you could say that there was something between the two, but in all truth Ames enjoyed her company the same way she enjoyed his, nothing more and nothing less. Two lonely souls just looking for someone to spend the rest of their days with.

Current Affiliates: None. Everyone he's known has either died of old age, natural causes, or the virus. A sad, lonely existence seems to be Ames' life. Until now.

Skills: His years spent in the business of managing and crunching numbers has given Ames a very good head for quick calculations, a talent that lasts even into his old age, though it is hampered somewhat by that age and its effects on his gray matter. That same mind for quick, unfettered number crunching is also the home for a precise eye, one that is well trained not only by numbers, but also by the time he's spent in the military. Not only is he able enough to guesstimate a distance or odds, but he is also precise enough that things do happen to within a reasonable frame of them happening. No he's not superhuman, neither is he super smart, but he's smart enough.

The military has also prepared Ames for more than he bargained for in the apocalypse, for if it had not been for those treacherous months in the jungles of North Vietnam and the shitstorm at Ho Chih Minh, he would not have learned, through sheer will and determination, the skills and ways of living with the bare essentials, and even without them. Ames is a survivalist by nature, one skill he had taken to practice even after the war and his old age. Once he retired, Ames would spend days or even weeks on end camping out in the forest by himself, perhaps to relive those misbegotten moments of the war, or maybe it's because he is the most at rest in those conditions, encapsulated in the memories of his brethren, both fallen and living alike.

Of course, having been in the military means he knows his way around firearms. He is no crack shot, but he knows enough about firearms and firearm safety to ensure that maybe something doesn't go wrong with whatever ill-begotten gains the Towers have.

Strengths: His prior military training in the Marines has given Ames the abilities of thinking quick on his feet and a natural leadership sense that has yet to evade him. Add to that a keen eye, though worsened with age, and a bravery matched only by the VC he once fought against, and Ames is quite the man. He can survive a good while on his own given enough provisions (and heart meds), and though he's no craftsman, he at least knows how to tie decent enough knots and how to fashion extremely rudimentary gear or fixes for broken stuff. He is also dependable and an honest man, past the hard soldier exterior which he does little to maintain.

Weaknesses: Mild PTSD, rheumatism, general old age, the years have not been kind to Warren Ames. His mental faculties may still be those of a man turning forty, maybe, but his physical capabilities aren't so great. He can't even run a few feet without stopping to catch his breath, and occasionally, his chest acts up. Maybe it's a side effect of the medication he takes for his PTSD? Or maybe it's his old pump complaining about his lifestyle. He doesn't know. All he knows that his body's slowly failing and, one day, it'll give up the ghost, and so will he.

History: The Vietnam War was not good on Ames. He made friends in his company, and he watched half of those young men end up in plywood boxes buried under six feet of dirt. Some never made it back to the States in one piece. The memories still haunt him to this day, though Ames is a tough man. After the war, he went into accounting for pretty much his whole life. It's what he was born into, having a mother and father that were both dedicated number crunchers whose lives were so stale and boring that you might think that he'd be the same. That was the main reason that influenced him to go into the military, where his father hadn't.

The 70s were a turbulent time, and soon the war effort was put into gear; Ames was shipped straight off to Vietnam, leaving his ailing folks behind. When he returned, momma was dead of a stroke and pop was in the hospital, where he too went several days later. They left him their considerable wealth and their business, in the hopes that he wouldn't put it to waste. In their memory, of course he didn't. With the money he hired several folk younger than himself to run their accounting firm while he furthered his studies, whereupon he took a graduate degree in finance management, qualifying him enough to start watching over his own company.

He planned on offering good, affordable insurance rates to families of the time, but seeing as this was the late 70s going to the 80s, it didn't sell so hot. He kept his chin up and forged through the tougher times, when insurance started to sell better after the world got less and less safe. Through the decades he toiled, struggling to keep his company relevant through the 90s and into the new millenium, where even more tragedies befell his nation and places abroad; good business for him, yes, but now he had to keep up with demand as well as keep up all the good work he'd made for himself in the past. By this time he was already in his fifties, pushing sixty, and he decided, finally, to step down and let someone younger than him take over. He separated from the company entirely, intent on using his gains to live out a quiet, peaceful life.

Of course, he soon got bored with the retired life, and so he scored himself a job as a cashier at a local grocery store, where he worked all the way until the outbreak itself hit. When that happened, he instinctually did what every other American would do: stock up and hunker down. Canned foods and long-lasting supplies, like bottled water and soaps, were plentiful at the start, but one week was all it took for things to dwindle down to trickles and drops. Soon there was almost nothing left to scavenge, by which point the infection was in full swing, dropping people like flies, left and right, destroying whatever semblance of a life Ames had left. He barricaded himself into his apartment, intent on staying away from the worst of it, while he lived off of tins of beans and bottles of water, slowly regressing into his training while the world around him crumbled.

Eventually the worst was over, and when it seemed like everything was calm, he broke free from his cocoon and went wandering. A few weeks later and he stumbled upon a working radio that was broadcasting a message from the Towers and he, naturally intrigued, made a beeline for them.

Vitals:

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- Left:

-- Right:

--- Both:

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Equipment:

-Upper Body:

-Lower Body:

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Do not fear the reaper.

Vitals

Name: Cho Sun-Jin

Title: Reaper of Vengeful Souls

Age: 32

Sex: Male

Date of birth: 14th June, 1983

Lineage: -

Class/Major: Sniper

Class/Minor: Assassin

Occupation: Reaper

Alignment: Neutral Good

Martial Status: Single

Birthplace: Seoul, South Korea.

Blood Type: A+

Eye Color: Total black, from sclera to cornea. What appears to be black smoke or mist seeps from the corners of his eyes in small quantities.

Height: 5' 9"

Weight: 185 lbs

Hair Color/Style: Buzz cut, black hair

Birthmark: Small patch on his left thigh.

Skin Tone/Condition: Pale, clammy, cool. Ashen in colour and in texture, like the ash that saved his life.

Markings: -

Combat Stats

Dominant Hand: Right

Reach: As far as his rifle can shoot.

Equipment:

-Upper Body:

• Reaper's Armour - What used to be ballistic ceramic plating underneath a standard issue ballistic vest. The dark magics within Cho have repaired his former mortal armour and have turned it into regenerative plating that's a part of him.

-Lower Body:

• Boots of Travel - These firm, black leather combat boots are now enchanted with travel: they will carry Cho any distance he requires, help him leap tall distances and also strengthen if he needs to kick something.

Weapons

• Reaper's Scythe/Tac - What once was a CheyTac Intervention M-200 variant sniper rifle is now a magic-powered and enhanced death machine. Formerly bolt action, the rifle is now semi automatic, and has an effective supersonic range of 2,200 yards or 2 kilometers. The rifle itself is born of the darkness and vengeful hate within Cho, and somewhere along the line the rifle itself was given a semblance of life. It is now a sentient being that lives off of the darkness within him. He equips it by attaching it to his right shoulder and forearm, gripping the pistol grip as he would normally. The living weapon latches onto him and draws upon his energy. The rifle fires Shredders; powerful parasites that act like regular bullets when fired, up until they impact a surface, at which point it opens its jaws and burrows, using its fired momentum to travel deep within and even through armour plating, walls and surfaces. The parasites then trigger an inner mechanism, transforming their streamlined bodies into sharp, thorny tumours that stay within their target, before expiring in a flash of heat and force akin to a small firecracker explosion.
• Liquid Shadow/Kris - What was a KRISS Vector submachine gun is now a blazing fast shadow shooter. Working like a very high powered paint gun, the Shadow fires bolts of liquid darkness that can mark and paint any surface, alongside regular bullets. It ties into his ability to submerge and travel through darkness and shadows, as he can travel in and through wherever he's shot his weapon at.
• Death's Mark/Hek - This used to be a Heckler & Koch P30L pistol. Now it's a marker. The pistol fires slugs of solid ink that can penetrate and splatter a target. This ink magically forms itself into a Mark of Death; a jagged cross bordered by a ring of thorns, and then hardens and crystallises, immobilising the affected area. Once a target has been marked, Cho can then fire at the mark to shatter it, causing immense damage or even outright ending his target in one blow.
• Culling Blade/Barr - His old Ka-bar knife, now a tool of morbid death. It still looks and functions as a knife, except its blade is now so sharp it can cut metal. Wounds caused by the blade will also never stop bleeding and cannot heal unless he allows it.

Abilities

• Enhanced Speed
• Enhanced Agility
• Enhanced Reflexes
• Enhanced Accuracy

Magic

• Shadow Form - Cho is able to turn his entire body into darkness, becoming intangible as well as immune to physical damage. He is able to, in this form, merge with nearby cast shadows by immersing himself in them. In this way he is able to traverse large areas at night by way of "swimming" in the darkness.
• Crow Image - Cho is also able to take the form of a large, black crow. In this form he can fly anywhere he pleases, but nothing else. Transforming between human and crow takes a matter of seconds.
• Darkness Tendrils - Made of shadow, Cho is able to form several long tendrils made of darkness. These can emerge from anywhere in his body, but most commonly form from the scar on the left side of his torso, next to his heart. Cho is able to use these tendrils to manipulate objects, help him traverse terrain or even attack.
• Undying - Cho is an unstoppable spirit of vengeance, and as such he will not be dissuaded by something as trivial as death. Upon sustaining damage, his body will regenerate itself. A slow process, but given enough time he will be back on his feet and ready for another fight.

Bio

Voice: Normal Asian tone, but multiplied and echoey, as if he is the voice of a legion.

Personality: Cho is rather quiet for a man of his caliber, and for good reason: he is focused and resolute, powered mainly by the tragedy that happened to his dad and grandma. If you talk to him, he'll chat with you at length on whatever subject you wish to discuss, but leave him alone and he'll lapse into a grim, tense silence, punctuated only by the sounds of his equipment being checked, double checked and triple checked for each and every mission.

Backstory: Cho hails from Seoul, and specifically the 707th Special Mission Battalion, which is the special counter-terror wing of the South Korean military. When he was old enough, he enlisted first in the regular military then proved himself worthy to sign up with the 707th. There, the training pushed him far beyond his physical and mental boundaries, and today he's a crack shot and an able soldier, trained and proficient in urban warfare, counter-terror operations and, above all, marksmanship.

When he was young, he was always interested in the military, and after all the above experiences, you could say he is living the dream, his dream anyway. After all, his family was partly military too, at least on his father's side. His mother was a simple and humble cook in a small street corner eatery near home that served home grown and home cooked foods for the locals, neighbours, visitors and what have you. However, he lost his whole family when the cruise ship they were on capsized due to a freak paranormal waterspout caused by a kaiju. Since then he has carried a deep-seated grudge against anything paranormal or supernatural, his hatred fueling his quest for vengeance. He joined the organisation ParaCom to help fulfil this quest.

Within ParaCom he excelled at hunting and destroying anything paranormal, and he made fast friends with the squad he was assigned to. Within a few years his squad had become one of the best at their job, and for good reason.

On a mission to a Canadian forest, he and his squad were ambushed by a Viking warrior. The lone warrior turned out to be more than a match for the whole squad, however, and they were subsequently slaughtered to the last man. Cho was the very last casualty, the Viking having saved him for last.

Just before he died, the Viking packed his wounds with a magical ash, claiming that the sniper was a worthy warrior but not meant to die just yet. This ash imbued his body with a strong power, added together with his own innate magic, made the corpse that used to be living a very powerful artifact. Thus was how he was chosen by the Darkness to be a Reaper.

He was raised from the dead by the interdimensional dark, his blood replaced by darkness, his heart powered by his vengeance and hate. His weapons were given a rework to better suit his new form by demons inhabiting them. When he awoke, he recalled little of his past grievances, but gained new ones in his confusion to understand his new form.

Now Cho wanders the multiverse, a shadowy mercenary that uses his powers to quell whatever evils lays in any land. His ability to traverse the worlds through the very shadows themselves is a unique talent, one that has earned him much respect.

Other Notes

Daemons

When Cho was killed and subsequently revived, his soul was briefly dipped into Hell. It was there that he briefly received judgement, and though he was brought back to life by the Aesir, the ruler of the Underworld couldn't resist leaving him with some gifts to coincide with his becoming a Reaper. These gifts came in the form of four demons that were permanently bonded to his spirit and came to live within Cho's four pieces of equipment: his sniper rifle, submachine gun, pistol and knife. These daemons, obviously sentient beings, were the ones that awoke Cho from his death-induced slumber after the climactic fight between him and Kolskegg. With some getting used to, the Reaper became accustomed to his weapons talking to him and providing him with information or casual banter to offset boring travels.

A friendly and helpful daemon, Tac resides within Cho's sniper rifle. He can be considered the "leader" out of the four daemons bonded to Cho, though not the oldest, and is often the most relevant of the lot.

Tac is a death daemon by nature, thus his skillset is focused around long-range, one-shot combat, which fits his position within the Intervention sniper rifle. The Shredder parasites that the rifle produces as ammunition are organisms that he produces within the magazine.

Boisterous, noisy and hyperactive, Kris resides in Cho's submachine gun, as befits the former's personality. She is the youngest of the four, and is often immature and naive about things in the outside world.

Kris is a shadow daemon. Her skillset revolves around assisting Cho's latent shadow-walking powers by spreading her darkness wherever she can.

A stoic, cool and calculated daemon, Hek resides in Cho's pistol, a little strangely, since Hek is the oldest, largest and most powerful of the four daemons that are with Cho. He often turns to Hek for help in tactical situations, or regarding certain beings or deities that he doesn't recognise.

Hek is an elite daemon warrior and tactician, and though he has no special powers of his own, his battle smarts and talents more than make for it. His influence on the handgun that is Death's Mark is to expose and immobilise a target's weaknesses for Cho to strike at.

A laid back, easy going daemon, Barr resides in Cho's knife. He is the other more helpful daemon in Cho's arsenal, and is often referred to by the others as Tac's right-hand man- er, daemon.

Barr is a blood daemon, one with an affinity to that life-sustaining fluid, and it shows in his ability to manipulate his enemy's blood when he cuts them.

"Howdy partner."

Vitals

Name: Samuel Williams

Age: 28

Sex: Male

Date of birth: 21st August, 1987

Lineage: -

Class/Major: Marksman

Class/Minor: Mage

Occupation: Busker

Alignment: Neutral Good

Marital Status:

Birthplace: Nashville, Tennesse

Blood Type: B-

Eye Color: Brown

Height: 5' 5"

Weight: 160 lbs

Hair Color/Style: Brown, short and scruffy.

General Appearance: Anthropomorphic beagle. Large brown eyes, almost cutesy looking in appearance. Normally wears a collared shirt and tie underneath a navy blue hoodie, with blue jeans and brown cowboy boots, along with a brown or white stetson on his head.

Skin Tone/Condition: Covered in normal coloured fur for a beagle, colorings and all.

Markings: -

Voice: Soft, gentle, almost child-like in its tone.

Birthmark: -

Personality: Shy, but helpful and kind, Samuel likes to spend time with friends and also by himself in equal measures. If anyone threatens him, he normally shrinks away and refuses to fight, but if pushed enough, he regresses to a more impersonal, violent state of mind, shutting out his friendly self to let his trigger happy self take over.

Combat Stats

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Equipment:

-Upper Body:

• Stetson - Sam's favourite hat. Can be damaged or torn, but any damage taken by the hat instantly regenerates and it'll always find a way back to its owner's head. It is otherwise unremarkable, but is very fancy looking.
• Holsters - Two leather under-the-shoulder holsters made to house Betsy and Sue, his revolvers. By virtue of his dimension control powers, the revolvers automatically return to the holsters if they are dropped or lost. The two things are inexorably linked together.

-Lower Body: Nil

Weapons

• Betsy and Sue - Two Smith and Wesson .500 Magnum revolvers, immensely huge hand cannons for the beagle's small hands.

Abilities

• Bottomless Magazines - By effecting a cycling dimension field within the chamber of his revolvers, Sam is able to ensure his guns are always fully loaded. The field cycles through every possibly alternate dimension where his guns are loaded, and every time his gun runs out of bullets the field cycles to the next loaded dimension.
• Wanted - Sam's bullets are capable of being affected by his dimension and reality warping powers, and he is able to bend their trails in reality to make them curve in the air after he's fired them. He can use this ability to shoot around corners, over walls and even behind him without actually looking behind him.
• Equilibrium - Sam is an expert at gun combat, and knows how to correctly predict where incoming fire is going to land based on foresight that he gains from using his dimension manipulation powers. Using this knowledge, he is able to be where the bullets are not going to be, while returning fire in the most accurate way possible.

Magic

• Dimension Manipulation - Samuel is able to manipulate the fabric between dimensions, giving him access to a virtually limitless resource across the cosmos. Wherever he is able, he can open a tear between dimensions to retrieve objects, deploy traps or to even quickly travel from one point to another.
  • Tear - Sam is able to pinpoint weak points in the fabric between dimensions. He is able to open these tears to make two points between dimensions intersect. For example if a tear resides on an open plain, Sam can open the tear to cause another dimension's version of the same plain intersect with this one, bringing along whatever objects happen to be residing in that space.
  • Jump - Sam is also able to use this ability of his to quickly jump between two points. By tearing holes at two points in the same dimension, he is able to compress the dimensional space between the two holes, creating a wormhole that he can leap through and close immediately after. The radius of this ability, however, is limited to what he can see and remember or imagine. For example, he can look at a photo of the Eiffel Tower in France, and open a wormhole there simply because he knows where that is and what it looks like in his mind's eye.
  • Store/Release - By opening a hole into dimensionspace, Sam can store objects or projectiles inside this vast, empty space for use later on. Any projectile fired or thrown into a hole into this space retains momentum and power when it was first released or fired but is put into suspended animation. When Sam calls upon the projectile again, it will exit the hole he creates with the same speed and power as it had when it was first fired or thrown. These projectiles can be as big or small as he can imagine, and when he catches them he can increase or decrease their size based on how big or small he makes the resulting exit hole.
  • Flicker - A passive ability, which is a side effect of his dimension magic, Sam is a queer individual whose essence is on one plane of existence, and yet is also scattered throughout the multiverse from how much he's been travelling the dimensions. As a result his physical form isn't exactly corporeal, and occasionally he may flicker in and out of existence in the current dimension, rendering any physical or magical attacks made during the flicker null and void. The physical manifestation of this is his physical image appearing to literally flicker like a bad TV signal, complete with slight distortion at the edges and static.
• Reality Manipulation - Samuel is also able to bend the fabric of reality itself to his will. With this magic, he can literally pull or push, bend or distort physical structures to create new additions or to remove obstacles. For instance, when faced with a dead end, he can bend reality to create an opening through the physical entity that's the wall, or push it aside entirely to open up a path. Or, another example, when faced with an incoming projectile hazard, he can literally pull the ground ahead of him up to create a wall, or even grab the air itself to push the projectile aside. Organic matter is totally unaffected by this entire set of magics.
  • Push - As simple as kneading dough, Sam is able to grasp physical matter at an existential level and push it closed. Using this aspect of his power, he can do things like shift entryways, close archways, move entire streets or even shunt whole city blocks somewhere else.
  • Pull - Like the above power, Sam is also able to pull things open. He can use this to open solid walls, divert any physical matter heading towards him, split things in twain or even haul objects too heavy for him to carry.
  • Null - This power allows Sam to stop anything that's moving in any direction and at any speed. If he isolates the object and effects a Null field on it, it will immediately stop its movement and be affected by gravity after that. He can use this to stop bullets, magical projectiles or other types of thrown weapon or projectile attacks.
  • Deconstruct - By grasping onto the basis of matter, Sam is able to utterly deconstruct an object into its base forms. He can make structures collapse, weapons fall apart, projectiles to stop working, among other things.
  • Shape - Grasping onto an object, Sam is able to reshape it to a different form while still maintaining the same type of matter within it. Using this he can create gateways in fences, steps out of asphalt, nets made out of windows, or other things.

"Watashi no Ishida Itsuki desu. Doozo yoroshiku."

Vitals

Name: Ishida Itsuki

Title: Reaper of Famine

Age: 20

Sex: Female

Date of birth: 5th June, 2055

Lineage: -

Class/Major: Assassin

Class/Minor: Rogue

Occupation: Extractor

Alignment: True Neutral

Marital Status: Single

Birthplace: Neotokyo, Japan

Blood Type: B-

Eye Color: Dusty grey, pupils included.

Height: 5' 9"

Weight:  170 lbs

Hair Color/Style: Medium-length brown hair, tied into a high ponytail.

General Appearance: Average build, C cup chest. Normally wears one or two scarves around her neck, a turtleneck sweater over a tank top and loose (but not baggy) jeans and boots.

Skin Tone/Condition: Ashen grey, dry and smooth.

Markings: A tattoo of a bar code on her right upper arm.

Combat Stats

Dominant Hand: Right

Equipment:

-Upper Body:

• Nano Armour - A set of form fitting armour that can be worn underneath clothing to be virtually invisible, this nano plating is strong enough to resist bladed and small calibre bullets and, when damaged, consumes ambient energy in the world to regenerate itself.
• Personal Teleporter - A sophisticated piece of hardware implanted within her arm and wired to her whole body, the device allows her to transmit herself as an energy wave to wherever she chooses. She uses this to follow her fellow Reapers since she doesn't have a travel power of her own.

-Lower Body:

• Jet Boots - A pair of boots that have miniature jet engines in them. With a tap of a button on her belt, she can activate them and use them to fly or hover in the air. They run on batteries that run out after roughly five minutes of continuous use, and recharge by way of solar power.

Weapons

• 悪魔のささやき (Akumanosasayaki)/Devil's Whisper - This monomolecular obsidian-edged katana is possessed by a death daemon. Much like Cho's sniper rifle Tac, the sword has been transformed from a technological marvel to a grim killing machine. It saps the life from her enemies and feeds on the souls of slain foes, gaining power as it feeds.
• 寄生虫 (Kiseichū)/Parasite - The wakizashi is a companion to the katana in traditional Japanese culture, and so too does she carry this traditional weapon along with her main sword. Possessed by a plague daemon, the short sword has gained a cruel ability: a dual form as a kusarigama, or a chain-sickle. In this form, the weapon's weight, normally a lead or iron weight, is instead a bright green Japanese lantern that absorbs souls for use by her katana. The sickle, instead of having a long handle and short blade, instead has a longer, slightly straighter blade with a shorter handle.
• 地獄の妥協 (Jigoku no dakyō)/Hell's Compromise - This Glock G-18 machine pistol is possessed by a lightning daemon, an angry one to be precise, and as a result the pistol no longer shoots bullets, but instead spits bolts of pure lightning and rage, essentially turning it into a longer range stun gun or taser. Still extremely lethal, the lightning bolts can either behave like regular bolts, or harder, solid lightning bullets that both shock and penetrate with ease.
• 毒の花 (Doku no hana)/Poison Flower - This Serbu Super-Shorty shotgun is also possessed by a daemon, a poison daemon. The pellets that this shotgun fires are no longer actual metal pellets, but round seeds that penetrate flesh easily, and immediately blossom into poisonous vines and plants that spread and entangle themselves in the victim's body, ending him in seconds. However, these plants, if willed by the daemon, can heal instead of hurt.

Abilities

• Enhanced Speed, Strength and Agility
• Enhanced sense of balance

Magic

• Diseased Flesh - Being the Reaper of Famine means that Itsuki's flesh and body are carriers of disease. Getting any of her blood on flesh means a slow, painful death from the toxins that leech into her victim's skin and body from the contact.
• Touch of Death - Itsuki's mere touch saps life from the living. A finger is a slow, sickly drain. Her whole hand is a painful, decaying smoulder that wastes away even the hardiest organic foes. Her touch, however, is nullified if her target possesses armour or a thick, hardy carapace or exoskeleton. Clothes don't stop her touch.
• Corpse Flower - Itsuki is a corpse, plain and simple, and that means that most of her insides don't really work any more, though her flesh and muscle are still corporeal and functional enough to keep her together. Her inner being is a gross, organic fauna that powers her being.
• Unkillable - Being a Reaper means that, by right, Itsuki cannot die, and just like her other Reaper comrades, upon taking damage almost or equal to death, she will not be able to function any more while she regenerates. Her body will shrivel and regrow itself from the bud of a humongous flower that blooms from her corpse, though this process takes much time.

Bio

Voice: Peppy, cheery and quite high-pitched, a typical sounding voice for a Japanese lady her  age.

Personality: Peppy and bubbly, Itsuki is a shining contrast to the other Reapers in her cheerful demeanour. She takes great joy in what she does, not psychopathic joy but true happiness. Sure, she finds the business of death to be a saddening thing, but she believes that helping people along their path to the next life is the best way she can help them. And she's happy because of that. Itsuki loves to be curious too, and especially enjoys learning new things like languages. When it's time to be serious, she can get deadly serious though.

Backstory: Ishida Itsuki was born in a futuristic version of Earth, where technology had accelerated and advanced far faster than our Earth. Tokyo was one of the biggest technology centers in the world, producing much of Japan's drones, robots and AI workers. She spent much of her childhood in wonder and awe of her city's many wonders, yet most were not meant for her. Her child days were spent in a slum, where her parents lived and worked, struggling to maintain jobs and a comfortable life whilst those above them had comfort, pleasure and their desires taken care of by technology.

Through her teenage years she grew jaded and cynical about the life she led, always dreaming and fantasising about the life she wanted. Then, one day, she was "approached" by the leader of a smuggling syndicate. She was to be taken in and trained to be a killer; an ender of lives so that others would prosper. So she accepted. She was mentored in the way of the sword and of the gun, and by her eighteenth birthday the name Ishida Itsuki sent shivers down the spines of rival gangs and even the Yakuza, who had heard of her impossible feats of killing and death-defying escapes from crime scenes. Her rise to criminal stardom led the Tokyo police to brand her the "Flower of Death", in similarity to the flower motif she sported on all of her gear.

Two years followed. Two long years of fighting, killing, slaughtering and shooting. Taking lives, but never giving any. Just like her life in poverty, Itsuki soon grew cynical about her current lifestyle as well. Sure, she was now rich, comfortable and pleased beyond compare, but she wasn't really content. All this death was strenuous on the mind and on the soul.

It was this momentary lapse of focus that cost her her life.

While she took a break and let her thoughts wander, one day, a Yakuza-owned syndicate broke in and captured her. For days, she was tortured, beaten and abused for information on her employers; information she steadfastly refused to reveal. The torture dragged on for days, weeks, even months, and still she held on.

Eventually, growing tired of her antics, the Yakuza deflowered her, tortured her even more, and then left her for dead in a dark, dank cell in the bottom of their home office. She starved to death after two months.

That was their first and only mistake. For it was that very day that the Darkness chose her, a starved soul, a corpse that was wasted away and drawn thin, that lacked a want and a need for life. It gave her life in the form of a seed, as befitted her motif, and the seed blossomed into a plant of death and disease that filled her very soul and body, resurrecting her from her brush with Death to enact vengeance on her captors. She did so with relish, slaughtering and butchering her way through each and every man and warrior she faced until, at the very end, she stood in the penthouse of the office tower, her sword and knife skewered through the chest of the man who had ordered her captured, her weapons sucking his life and soul into her body to be consumed as energy.

Then came a man, behind her, who appeared almost out of thin air.

A man made of shadows.

And behind him, erupting from the wall, another man. A man made of fire.

It was then that Itsuki realised she was not alone. Not when she had comrades.

Friends.

Reapers.

Others

Daemons

Meaning 'devil'. The death daemon that inhabits her sword, Akuma is a calm, collected daemon that contrasts Itsuki's more bubbly nature. Like his two other counterparts, Tac and Renny, he is considered the leader of the four daemons that assist Itsuki in her weapons.

Being a death daemon, Akuma feeds and gains power by consuming life. He does this through her and who she kills. He devours the life essence of the person he wounds or kills, and feeds on souls collected by Sei. When he gains power, so does the sword gain sharpness. At maximum efficiency, or when Akuma is sated and full, the sword glows with a dark purple aura, and it gains a lengthened cutting edge made of that aura, extending a foot and a half past the solid edge of the blade.


Meaning 'life'. Sei is a plague daemon that inhabits Itsuki's wakizashi, and she is closely linked with Akuma. The two are brother and sister, almost, and Sei enjoys Akuma's company immensely and vice versa. Sei is just like Itsuki as well, being quite bubbly and cheery in mannerisms and voice.

Sei's powers and skillset bring slow, painful death to the battlefield. Her wakizashi form is sharp, and every wound she inflicts infects the victim with a fast-acting toxin that numbs and disables the affected area within seconds. Her kusarigama form is sharper, and the chain that links the sickle and the weight can be lengthened or shortened at will. Her weight is a sickly green lantern that absorbs the souls of those she kills simply by being in close proximity to the death. Whenever the time is right, Itsuki lets Akuma drink of the souls collected within the lantern to gain power.


Meaning 'prison'. Goku (not to be confused with the DBZ character) is a lightning daemon that lives in Itsuki's machine pistol. A younger daemon than the rest, Goku is one of those cynical, sarcastic daemons that enjoys anger and combat.

Goku brings lightning and energy to the battlefield. The machine pistol he inhabits can be used to stun, incapacitate or even immolate a target with electric energy. With well-placed shock bolts, he is able to create a lightning prison that effectively disables the target's ability to move.


Meaning 'flower'. This poison daemon is the last daemon of Itsuki's arsenal, and it inhabits her shotgun. Unlike the other daemons, who all have genders, Hana's gender is...ambiguous. It refers to itself as a "we", implying that there are others just like it, linked in a sort of hive mind. Hana is inquisitive and curious, though its robotic nature leaves it as a particularly creepy daemon.

Hana's skillset involves plants, obviously by the name, and the seeds it fires mature and sprout almost immediately when it comes into contact with a target that contains life force or energy, or even warmth or blood to feed on. The plants grown from these seeds spread aggressively and entangle themselves in anything, breaking apart objects from the inside out.

"I heal the wounded, shoot the healthy. You are sick, find me. You want to die, also find me. I will fix you."

Vitals

Name: Nataliya Petrovich

Title: Reaper of Pestilence

Age: 43

Sex: Female

Date of birth: June 24, 1956

Lineage: -

Class/Major: Medic

Class/Minor: Marksman

Occupation: Field medic

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Marital Status: Single

Birthplace: Moscow, Russia

Blood Type: AB+

Eye Color: Wholly white, from sclera to iris to pupil.

Height: 6'

Weight: 176 lbs

Hair Color/Style: Snow white hair, long enough to reach her waist but tied in a neat and tidy bun, held with two straight hair pins.

General Appearance: C size chest. Combat gear is a set of grey ballistic plate with a red cross on the shoulder pauldrons. Right arm bracer contains syringes and injector for drugs, along with extendable bone saw. When not in combat gear, normally wears a white fur-lined winter coat with fur collar, grey scarf, black gloves, white jeans and either shoes or heels.

Skin Tone/Condition: Pale, warm but dry.

Markings: Red cross on left upper arm. Tiny black cross tattoo underneath both eyes.

Combat Stats

Dominant Hand: Left

Equipment:

-Upper Body:

• Потеря Небес (Poterya Nebes) - Heaven's Loss. The upper half of a set of daemon possessed medical armour, Poterya Nebes is Nataliya's main source of protection. The pain daemon within the armour absorbs most damage sustained and converts it into healing and shielding. The absorbed damage can also be kept as is and then distilled into syringes that are created by the armour for use in the syringe gun on the left bracer. These pain syringes contain a single dose of pure pain, and when injected into a subject, cause five seconds of intolerable agony.
  
  The right bracer contains a vital signs scanner and an extendable bonesaw.
  
  The armour also has a set of foldable wings in its back. These wings are in the shape of an angel's wings, and are six feet long from wingtip to wingtip, meaning that each wing is three feet long. The wings are jet-powered, and are capable of sustained short-distance flight or hovering for a long duration.

-Lower Body:

• Потеря Небес (Poterya Nebes) - Heaven's Loss. The lower half of a set of daemon possessed medical armour, Poterya Nebes is Nataliya's main source of protection. See above for the armour's effects. The lower half of the armour does not contain many special effects. The heels of her boots contain sharp stilettos that she can activate with a click of her heels, and nothing else.

Weapons

• Ангелос (Angelos) - A SIG Sauer P226 9mm pistol with an angel in it, Angelos is one of Nataliya's primary weapons, alongside Lyutsifer. The bolts of light that he fires blind and disintegrate most fleshy, disposable targets.
• Люцифер (Lyutsifer) - A H&K USP Match .45 pistol with the Prince of Lies himself within it, Lyutsifer is the other half of Nataliya's primary weapon duo. The bolts of darkness he fires distort and destroy most fleshy, disposable targets.
• Поцелуй Ада (Potseluy Ada) - Meaning "Hell's Kiss", this SVD sniper rifle contains a fallen angel, whose powers of life and death have turned the once innocuous sniper rifle into a man-portable medigun, dispensing bursts of healing and energy into allies and destroying her enemies with extreme prejudice.

Abilities

• Enhanced Reflexes, Speed and Endurance
• Gun Warrior - By virtue of having almost no melee whatsoever, Nataliya instead prides herself on integrating her pistols into her melee routine, utilising a style similar to Wing Chun or Bojutsu in addition to bullets, often wielding her pistols as clubs in extreme close combat.

Magic

• Liquid Flesh - Being made entirely of disease and pathogens bestows this benefit upon Nataliya, as her body can be completely liquid and fluid to the touch. Basic, unpowered melee attacks and projectile attacks do not harm her in any way. The only way to truly harm her is to use magic or magic-empowered melee or projectile attacks to break past this magical barrier.
• Plague Carrier - And of course, since she's made of disease, it means she is also very dangerous up close. A single touch from a finger infects a target with so many deadly toxins and pathogens that death is often confirmed, if not instantaneous.
• Poison Queen - Nataliya, using her poison magics, can create pools or fields of poison and death around her. These fields are subject to her will, and can stay grounded, or float in the air as a fine mist.
• Unkillable - Just like the other Reapers, Nataliya cannot be killed. Instead, upon sustaining enough damage to be fatal, she is disabled, akin to being actually killed. She regrows herself through microorganisms, albeit slowly enough to not be considered an active combat ability.

Bio

Voice: Ghostly, husky, light Russian accent. Eloquent in diction.

Personality: Cool, collected and calm, as a medic should be. She displays an air of professionalism, sense of duty and, at the same time, compassion and pride in her work. She is a little more aloof than her other companions, but isn't a total ice queen.

Backstory: Nataliya was born in a turbulent Earth, one where the Cold War was less cold and more hot. Technology advanced faster here too, though not to the extent of her teammate, Itsuki.

Upon reaching her teens Nataliya was immediately drafted into the Russian Resistance Force, a militia force aimed to combat the advances of a Fascist Germany into Russia. In this Earth, Germany never stopped being Fascist even after the second World War, and that only opened up more eras of aggression in the new age. She quickly grew accustomed to the horrors of war, but felt that she'd do better on the sidelines instead of on the front.

Thus she took her chances to become a combat medic. She trained herself to treat battlefield casualties, often being the first one to drag her wounded companions out of the battlefield and towards a surgical station. Through the mud, sweat and blood, Nataliya persevered and eventually a commander recognised her work and gave her the promotion to an actual medical post as a battlefield hospital nurse. Obviously this still meant she was stationed near the front line, but now her main focus was saving the lives of those sent to her, which she took to with gusto.

The decades wore by and the war on the European front never seemed to end, just one side or the other making a half-assed effort to push into the territory of the other, failing and retreating back into a stalemate that had been there ever since the end of WWII. In that time, Nataliya honed her skills; when not actively treating casualties, she was now on the front causing them, having taken up marksmanship as a secondary course of training to supplement her battlefield medicine skills, mostly to back her up in case her emplacement fell and they had to retreat. She was also one of the first few waves of medical personnel to receive a new, futuristic piece of equipment: the Medical Armour suit, which came integrated with various devices to scan for life signs, administer drugs, apply dressings and sew up open wounds with ease, while granting the medics who wore them the ease of mind to run around in a battlefield without sustaining life-threatening injury from how bulletproof the armour was.

However, Nataliya was only human, and through the decades she spent treating casualties, she herself received wounds in battle that were treated by others. And though the medicines and drugs of the time were sufficiently advanced, nothing could stop the advances of disease and malnutrition on the worn Russian front.

One day, while rescuing a squad trapped on a front in Stalingrad, Nataliya was shot by a sniper. Her armour absorbed most of the force of the hit, but the bullet still managed to penetrate her flesh, embedding itself in her liver.

Reeling and wounded, she could only watch as the enemy stormed by her, dismantling the squad she was sent to save and crushing the Russian advance.

No one ever came to save her, and eventually, days after her injury, she succumbed to the infections that followed and died a miserable, painful death.

That was, of course, until the Darkness found her. Her death was one of ill luck and misfortune, helped along by disease and infection, and so the Darkness decided to resurrect her into unlife, powering her body with the very microorganisms that destroyed her.

And so Nataliya rose from the dead, born again into unlife as a being of pestilence and disease, her weapons imbued with both light and darkness, the last of the mythical Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Her resurrection was met by the three individuals she would later consider as her team and family.

The Reapers.

Others

Daemons

A special type, Angelos is not a daemon at all. Instead, he is a fallen angel, and, like Akuma, Tac and Renny, is considered the leader of the four beings in Nataliya's possession. Upright, noble and courageous, Angelos stands in stark contrast to the daemon that inhabits Nataliya's other pistol.

Angelos brings the powers of light and strength to the battlefield. He emits a constant aura of strength and endurance that affects those around him in a ten foot circle area of effect.

As a weapon, he shoots bolts of light that have a slight homing capability; if not aimed directly at a foe, his bolts will curve slightly and readjust their trajectories to impact his target. Of course, this doesn't mean his bullets behave like guided missiles, the homing capability is light, and only work if fired either directly or slightly indirectly at a target. This ability does not work if fired in the complete opposite direction of her target, or at extreme angles.


A daemon of lies and deception, Lyutsifer, or Lucifer, is the Prince of Lies. How he became attached to Nataliya is unknown, perhaps he simply chose to, or maybe his eternal punishment by God was to be weaponised forever in an object, bound forever to his user. Whatever the case, Lucifer now works for Nataliya, and though he is mildly amused at how two fallen angels have also come to work for her, it doesn't stop him from being all that he is: a lie.

Lucifer brings darkness deception onto the battlefield as his main powerset. As a weapon, he shoots bolts of darkness that have a slight homing capability with the exact same limitations of Angelos, stated above.

By will, he is able to create visual clones of Nataliya or any of her teammates, be it Cho or Luis or Itsuki. These clones have their own will and act on their own, even sounding and behaving like them. However, they only exist to draw attention, and if damaged or injured, they immediately vanish. He is able to create up to ten of these clones, not including the original.

Also, he is able to directly affect the visuals of any fired projectile by simply making them vanish, or appear to have been fired from another direction, complete with the requisite sounds and sights. This power of misdirection serves to confuse and distract Nataliya's opponents, and is part of his skillset as a whole.


Meaning 'loss', Nebes is a pain daemon, more specifically a succubus, that resides within Nataliya's armour. Not being directly within a weapon doesn't bother her, for her usefulness is still high. Nebes takes great pleasure and joy in absorbing pain and suffering, using the energy to fuel the armour as well as provide a variety of medicines or poisons for Nataliya to use.

Nebes, being a pain daemon, has pain as her main skillset. Half of it is in the area of absorbing and redirecting it, the other half being in the area of giving it back.

When Nebes absorbs a hit, she converts a portion of the damage and pain into energy that she stores within the armour. At any time, Nataliya can will Nebes to convert this energy into a variety of functions within her armour; fuel for her jet wings, or to be converted into medicine or poison for her syringe gun in her bracer.

And, at any given moment, Nataliya can will Nebes to redirect the pain energy into any of her weapons, making her next attack with that weapon extra powerful and extra painful. If a hit with a powered weapon connects, it will deliver a shock of pure agony that lasts for three seconds. Effects include body spasms, uncontrolled bleeding from orifices, extremely increased heart rate and contracture of the body.

Of course, this doesn't mean that Nataliya is invincible. Any attack that cannot be blocked by her armour is given as a standard attack, and if she isn't wearing her armour then the usual happens. Nebes can only absorb part of the shock and damage of a hit, not all of it, and any huge, powerful attack can overload Nebes' capacity or penetrate through the armour, nullifying her abilities.


Meaning 'kiss', Ada is a fallen angel, just like Angelos. She resides within Nataliya's SVD sniper rifle and is the one who delivers life and death unto...whoever she shoots.

Ada's powerset involves life and death in varying degrees. It all depends on who she is shooting.

When Ada is shot at an ally, her projectiles are life-giving cocktails of microorganisms that promote healing and regeneration of lost flesh, while also sending adrenaline and painkillers through her target's system. A kiss of life.

When Ada is shot at an enemy, her projectiles are instead bolts of pure poison that penetrate and spread disease and death. The diseases imparted by Ada can also spread to surrounding targets by way of merely physically touching the infected. A kiss of death.