• Do you mind placeholders?
• Do you have a preference for images, i.e: anime, artistic drawing, real life, etc?
• We're basing the character completely off of ourselves, but it's alright to change a few things, correct?

@Cynder I'm glad you asked! :)

1. Placeholders are fine.
2. Not really, although real life images in a Fantasy/Sci-Fi setting always seem out of place to me. But feel free to choose whatever.
3. Yeah, it's really how you would imagine yourself within this RP, which is why I'm giving you a lot of free reign. Take mine for instance.

Oh, seems this one finally found its OOC. I remember expressing my interest in a check shortly after the guild rose back up... It's been quite long from that though. Glad to see it went somewhere! I'll go and type up a CS once I'm done with these university mathematics I really should already be doing...

I believe I am done with my character. If there is anything to redo/make better, do not hesitate to bash me in the face with the truth.

Hider [+]

"Quit complaining. It ain't like things couldn't be worse, is it?"

Name: Guster Galuna
Alias(s): Guster. Just Guster. No need to use the surname.
Age: 21
Height: 183cm
Weight: "62kg"
Hair Color: Feature lacked
Eye Color: Clear, slight shade of pink

Race: Dust fiend

Job Role: Soldier - Q-Guard - Second in command of his current unit

Physical Appearance:

When it comes purely to appearance, Guster looks like a human to the unassuming. In fact, thanks to how he has covered every inch of his real self in clothing and taken the shape of a regular humanoid it is quite the challenge to tell him apart from one, if not impossible.
Within his clothing Guster is a swirling mass of dust that generates the weight his body seems to have through clever manipulation of the matter housed within the fabrics. As a result of this, anyone who catches the creature off-guard may find them feeling lighter than expected. Guster's "eyes" are two mostly clear gemstones floating in his head area behind his goggles.

Attire:

Guster prefers long coats, usually red ones with wide brimmed hats of matching colour. A blue feather is a plus, but the Guildfall has made his stock of said item limited resulting in them seeing less use. He rarely cares about the type of his trousers, as long as they come with enough pockets and are of sturdy material, anything goes. His boots and gloves are both black leather, and with the gloves being stitched into the inside of his coat sleeves and the pants likewise attached into his boots, there is no chance of anyone catching a glimpse of the whirling mass of dust he is. Guster covers his face with a thick scarf and an oversized pair of goggles, as to give himself some facial features to draw attention to. While a change in apparel usually demand Guster to exchange all the pieces at once in a discrete location, he takes all the possible opportunities. He'd rather not reveal himself by slowly chipping the clothing apart from the inside.

Personality:

It cannot be said that Guster would be a shining example of moral integrity within the guard. It would be closer to the truth to call him part of the problem, and there is no "victim-of-circumstances" cards to be played. While he rarely goes as far as to voluntarily abuse what he has been given, if a situation can be solved faster by calling the shots through his rank rather than talking it through or if assuming the ownership of certain items belonging to other individuals would make his units chances of survival greater, you can count on Guster demanding it. He also possesses a near zero-tolerance towards whiners. While he keeps his hopes up on an easier post to be gained one day, he does not expect it. Each and every time someone whines about being sent to one of the Mahzforsaken posts of Casual-Free, Guster dies a little inside and pretty much loses all respect towards the soldier. They certainly won't see Guster coming to the rescue if things were to go bad.
While technically genderless, Guster has chosen to prefer being referred to with male pronouns to not attract unneeded attention.

Weapons & Equipment:

The magimusket - Guster's signature weapon. This old looking contraption of wood and metal is loaded by Gusters shaky magical skills, allowing him to focus the raw energy into concentrated bolts. These shots possess target tracking and their travel time is near instant, but even then they cannot take into account all obstacles, and the more they need to steer, the less of an impact the shot will make. Often it is preferable to try and shoot through an obstacle rather than try to guide the shots past. The gun can when fully loaded discharge the energy in one big shot, but that is hardly the optimal choice most of them time and the function to divide the energy into any wanted amount sees much use.
Sword - Guster has recently picked up this slightly curved blade and has no real skill in using it. It possesses a certain intimidation factor though, so combined with his rank Guster has pressed through some conflicts with non-soldiers through sheer intimidation.
Taurus Judge - A five shot revolver loaded with .410 bore shot shells for close-quarters self-defence when magimusket is not an option.

Ability:

Air reading: Dust fiends are not known for their eyesight. In fact, they are quite blind (and deaf) in the literal sense. However, they are capable of reading vibrations in the air, granting them vision and hearing for as long as there is air around them. Usually this skill can extend to miles at a time, but given the unnatural circumstances and the fact Guster is hiding within his clothing, he is pretty much blind beyond 250m radius, and deaf to sound from beyond 400m (unless the sound is obnoxiously loud, such as an explosion).
Longevity: A dust fiend is not the easiest kill you'll ever come across. Never dying of age, the creature that is immune to poisons as well has a well known weak spot in its gemstone "eyes". It requires both to function, one to eventually form another from the excess dust within two weeks (this happens on autopilot, with the personality remaining unconscious), and when none are left, the dust fiend dies. They are not extremely durable, a solid hit from a hammer easily shatters one, but they can be highly elusive while the creature still moves. Explosions and sonic frequency weapons are some tools that fight against this trait quite well.
Body mass control: Given his nature as a creature composed of whirling dust, Guster is capable of achieving some acrobatic feats impossible to an ordinary human.
Shaky magics: Guster is, by most accounts, a terrible wizard. Calling him a mage would be stretching it, as he can barely change his voice (which to be fair sees LOADS of use) or produce a small flame a few millimetres away from his fingers. He has the arcane energy, but he cannot concentrate it properly. This is where his magimusket comes in.

Brief History:

Why had he taken this path again? That was quite the question, Guster thought to himself as he filled in the logbook of the day at the guard post of his unit. He was a young one, that was for sure. Maybe it had been his stupidly curious self a few years back that led him to dress up as a human and see whether or not they would notice a difference. These were dangerous things to be thinking of though, just in case there would be a mind reader nearby. What were the chances though? Next to none, he was willing to guess. Speaking of none, that was the amount of people that had noticed anything fishy about him after he gave the explanation of being disfigured and simply wanting to spare them the sight. The free section... it had never really been for him, it had not. He missed his old home, but that area was closed off for the limited few now. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that jazz. The hadn't yet granted a clearance to High-Casual for him, but he had heard rumours they would be giving those out to the deserving soon. Rumours were rumours, but maybe, just maybe. It never hurt to keep your dreams alive.

His thoughts wandered to his weapon. The magimusket had been a genius idea, giving him the actual edge at fighting he really needed. Many times he had gazed into the arena section, thinking that one day he might join them. Had chosen not to, and looking at how things are now... he was better off here. And that was a lot coming from someone who was sitting at the post-Guildfall border of Casual-Free. It had taken him weeks to fashion the weapon out of the discarded and hopelessly broken musket he... acquired from an antique shop. Luckily nobody was able to trace it back to him, and now... nobody would find out. And if they did, who would care enough? The gun had saved infinitely more lives in it's current shape, that was for certain.

As his pen danced at the bottom of the page to sign the page under the name Sgt. Galuna, he let out a small sigh. How much would the higher-ups require to accept him just using his first name with these? It was not like it made a real difference... he had already got his entire unit agree to calling him sergeant Guster. He hadn't even chosen his name, oh no. He had received it from the first people he met, the family more or less forced it onto him as he told he had none to begin with. He liked Guster. Like the gust of the wind that blew within him. But Galuna? Ugh. Some days he was unsure why he did not change it. Maybe he was too sentimental? Although to be honest, as matters were now, nobody would have time to look after things like that anyway. As Guster slammed the logbook shut and hopped off the crate he had been sitting on, he declared within his head: The moment has passed. Back to work.

Relationships:

Guster holds an unknown (to him) bond towards the Galuna family. While encountering any is highly unlikely, he would likely seek to aid them like they did to him back in the day.
In addition to this, Guster respects S.W.O.R.D. and I.D.R.I.S. but finds it hard to believe anyone would willingly participate in something like that. Each time he sees the group return smaller than it left as, if he has the opportunity, strengthens his belief of it being a necessary job for the voluntarily crazy.
And then there is his feeling of sheer terror towards F.E.A.R.. To him, having his identity as a Dust fiend be revealed would spell the endgame. Having to flee from the society most likely, but where would he even go?

I thinking about making another character, but for now ta-da

Hider [+]

Eww, I feel bad for your mother

Name: Amelian Leonard Draco
Alias(s): "Bonehead"
Age: 22
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 167
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Red

Race: Cursed Human

Job Role: I.D.R.I.S Officer

Physical Appearance: From the effects of his curse, several bones have managed to grow out of his body permanently. Though, besides that, he is very well fit from a years of training.

Attire: A leather trench coat covers most of his body. Under the coat is standard patrol armor, and a pair of padded combat pants and boots. Around his neck is a crystal that helps him control his curse, it normally glows.

Personality: Amelian is normally a bit of jackass. He can seem like he doesn't care about anything other than himself, but if you actually get to know him...he's actually just a jackass who cares about thinks a lot. He sometimes stresses himself out over work and life. Feeling that this is a weakness he does his best to cover those feelings most of the time.

Weapons & Equipment: combat knife, first aid kit, license to kill (I.D.R.I.S badge)


Ability:
Bone manipulation of his own body, is able to control every bone in his body.
Basic healing knowledge
Weapon Mastery
Cursed immortality

History: Once ago a drunken story, there lived a young man with his family. The family was very powerful, having control of most trade in the European area. Of course the family had many enemies, but they had few who could touch them. Though the ones that could didn't dare to try. For most of the world both feared and respected this family. Except for one old woman, A woman who would place a cures apon the family. sending them into a rage as their body's betrayed themselves. Though one of the family was able to hold onto his sanity and flee.

Many years pass, and the one who fled hasn't aged a bit. He marches to his home after years of training to be able to control his curse. His home is in ruins,and his family is nowhere to be found. All that is hear is the cackling of the old woman. for many years he hunted the woman. To free not only himself, but his loved ones. Within half a decade he finds her.

He busted into an old town, killing his way through creatures that he had never seen before. As he reached the town hall he heard fighting. He kicked the door down as a blade came down on the old woman. A young man stood before him covered in blood. Though it didn't seem like much of it was his. Looking over the rest of the hall he now sees his family slaughtered across the room. His mother, sister,and father lay dead. The hero turned and raised his blade. The man looked the hero in the eye and let his rage take over. When he awoke the hero was gone, and he was covered in what he guessed was his blood. There was a cold weight on his neck. Running to a bathroom to look in the mirror. He found that the woman's chains had attached to him, and the red crystal had brought Him back. A whisper had moved through the house, avenge us.

He set out and a few years later he found the hero in a bar, and shared a few drinks with him.

Relationships: Amelian is known, or at least heard of, as the I.D.R.I.S Officer who enjoys any bar in town. Though he actually has a few friends, no one knows to much about him. Seeing how he keeps to himself unless his jobs says otherwise.

Let me know if anything needs to be changed!!!

Character Sheet [+]

"... it just got worse..."

Name: Leia Hayahr (Hair, get it? LOL)
Alias(s): Elle (or L, whichever you'd rather type)
Age: 28
Height: 4'11'' at the withers, 7'5'' at the head
Weight: 1000 lbs.
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Pale Blue

Race: Centaur

Job Role: Medic (F.E.A.R)

Physical Appearance: Being a centaur, Elle stands upon four hooves. Her lower half is covered in soft, white fur with thick feathered strands fluttering above the strong black hooves. Just like the hip long hair, her tail is made up of soft white locks which reach down to her rear fetlock (near the hooves). All of her features are long and lean, making even her muscular horse body appear to be slender. Beneath her dark brows are a pair of pale blue eyes, their gaze always sharp and calculating.

Attire:

She adorns herself with decorative leathers and silks, hiding (barely) her otherwise exposed breasts. Upon her head she wears a headpiece made up of antlers and bits of silk. Although she usually wears her hair down, Elle has been known to pull the long strands into ornate braids or twists. As of late, the centaur has been wearing a crudely made saddle bag of medical supplies and blankets.

Personality:

Elle is very literal and blunt. She lacks any resemblance of tact, which makes her bedside manor rather... rough.... unless, of course, you can get her to do one of two things. Sing... or drink... or both.

Weapons & Equipment:
Medical supplies, blankets... and sometimes a machete like blade. The blade is used to remove limbs or, if forced, self defense.

Ability:

-Telepathy: Elle can speak both with her mouth and with her mind, however to speak with her mind, one must be within a line of sight.

-Empathy: This centaur can feel the emotions of those around her. This, along with the ability to carry victims on her back, made her essential in the early stages of the disaster. Like a sixth sense, the woman was able to feel those in pain beneath the rubble when they were otherwise unable to make their presence known.

-Medical Knowledge: Elle came into the city with the same knowledge as any good field medic... it wasn't until she was drafted into her position that she really started to learn the ins and outs of it all. She is no master... nor doctor... but you have a fairly good chance of surviving.

Brief History:

Elle had only just arrived when the virus hit, her home having been destroyed long before. Her time prior to arrive had been spent roaming from city to city, picking up any job she could just to survive. A jack of all trades but master of none, it was hard for her to find a place to call home. Of course, this home was more or less forced onto her by the virus.

Since it's fall, Elle has been working hard to save the lives of those around her... first among the search and rescue teams, then within the ranks of F.E.A.R..

Relationships:

I will be putting something here for every other PCed character. I'm going to PM each person after their CS is approved. Feel free to PM me as well!

To this day, I think this is the first Centaur CS I've ever encountered. Elegant yet stern. She's wonderful. You may consider her accepted. ^^

Thank you :D I haven't ever seen a Centaur played, so I thought... what the hell... might as well give it a go! Hopefully it will be fun!

@Kalasit's a age thing. I'll work on that

This seems pretty cool. Will crank out a character sheet tonight.