The Advanced Apparatus. A mysterious creation of both the Lassa and the Magoi. But its origins are ever more of a enigma.The Abyssils that lived within the waters of this world had created the precursors. Their technology was heavily infused with manipulations. Energies taken from other realms and compacted into sentinels made of sea stone. These golems of the past were what the Magoi found with the help of the Lassa. The revival of these golems sparked the creation of their very own hybrid version. These creations were abominations however. Instead of stone they used the flesh of dragons. Reanimating their molded flesh to act as armored guardians. However control was not easy. Only through trial and error did they realize that infusing the instrument with a host was it able to function correctly. With the combination of technology discovered from the Abyssils, remnants of Atlantis, and humans were the Lassa able to create the Advanced App that is renowned for their power. Unlike the Lassa however the Tyro of Fotia had no allegiance to the Magoi and had no access to their many manipulations and manifestations. Thus they created their own Advanced Apps, ones entirely machine. While the Fotians were not as advanced as the Tearianarians the burning heart dragon slayers owned numerous thinkers and engineers. Tinkering together war machines. No where near as agile and capable as the predecessors. But able to bring destruction all the same.
Adding a bit to the history of Advanced Apps. Yes, now there are two kinds you can get from either Fotia or Tearianaris. One is bulky and tank like, used just for destruction and nowhere near gundam level. More like tank level lol. Then theres the Evangelion kind, which do literally live in a way.
Quote:"Ow" Name:Atlas Age: 21 Species: Descendant Blood%: 60% Nayu, 20% Tyro, 20% Oro Gender:Male Sex Preference: Hetero Height: 6'1" Weight: 170 lb. Physical appearance: Atlas has pale skin, with messy blonde hair, and hazel eyes, but you probably won't see them behind his sunglasses. Small, black horns peak out of the front of his hair.
Apparel:Atlas doesn't care for combat, so he wears normal civilian clothes whenever he goes out. Has modified lenses that allow his eyes to withstand sunlight. Wears a black trench coat, with a dirty white dress shit, and dress pants. Nothing else exceptional, except for a small scar under his right eye. Vehicle: N/A Personality: Atlas expresses hatred for most, if not all, individuals he encounters. He doesn't consider himself a loner, it's just that society isn't good enough for him yet. Isn't against some cracks at humor, even at others expense. Occupation: Possible Serial Killer Faction: N/A Pet: N/A Adv. App.: N/A Exp: Is very inexperienced, and is only decent at hand to hand combat, and knife fights.
Spells: N/A
Abilities/Powers: Poison fangs, night vision, thick blood, poison resistance
Weapons:Dagon A small, sharp steel blade with mysterious characters carved into it. This blade represents most of the magic Atlas has come in contact with. It may not have the best range, put it is very sharp. When dipped in blood, it is ignited for a period of 10 minutes
History: Atlas doesn't have a mysterious past, or a traumatic experience. His mother and father lived in a rural part of Territory Nero, only God knows why. As one would expect, attacks upon the house by various creatures were common, and Atlas' father defended against them easily. Atlas ran errands into the town of Twilight, to pick up groceries and the like, and things were peaceful. However, one day his mother died from causes unknown, and his father fell into grief. This was 4 years ago. Atlas had grown up, and took the news best he could. His father, mourning, took his own life one year later. Atlas took the family heirloom, a small blade named Dagon, and went on his way
He went from town to town, territory to territoy, picking up work when he could. He was looking for something. using a map his father had left him, he was to find the rest of the set Dagon came from. He had little to no luck, but that didn't make him quit. He had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, so off he went on a chase for something that might not even be there. Trivia: I just modified my favorite OC for this
Working on my CS I just haven't had internet for a while. Posting this while I can, but I will post the finished cs as soon as I can >< Sorry @Rai, I'm really sorry it's taking me so long T.T
I've spells and abilities to work on, but otherwise it's mainly complete back on page one. It's the second skele on the original post, so if you want to look it over @Rai feel free .e. As far as abilities and spells, do you want them to be just what he's able to use or all of them :0 I'm planning on just what he can at the moment :0
Quote: "To choose sides is to tip the balance. Even those who choose no side add a few grains of sand to one side or another from time to time." ~ Dracomane the wise
Name: Old Hermit, AKA Silverbeard, AKA Dracomane the wise, AKA Old One
Age: He doesn't remember as he lost count.
Species: Ancient Dragon
Blood%: 100%
Gender: Male
Sex Preference: Bi
Height: 6 feet even Weight: 533 lbs
Physical appearance:
True appearance:
Apparel: Dracomane wears a fairly simple outfit. Simple woven pants and shirt, along with a wolf skin cape. While it has no real defensive use, it does give the appearance of being fairly comfortable, if frequently tattered.
If you pay attention you can see that his teeth have slight points and his skin has a slightly golden sheen about it most noticeable in high light.
Vehicle: Feet.
Personality: Dracomane is generally quiet and thoughtful, but can be quick to act against things he deems to be wrong or unjust. He loves riddles and jokes and having a good laugh with anyone. Be cautious of his temper, as it rises quickly, and his fury is deadly if you harm those he cares for or considered friend. He's not one for choosing sides and tends to stay out of moral decisions unless he deems it necessary for him to be a part of the decision. While he loves meat, he's no hunter. At least not as a human.
Occupation: A hermit with a small knowledge of gardening.
Faction: none
Pet: none
Adv. App.:
Exp: Dracomane is a skilled hand-to-hand fighter and proficient with staves. The time he's spent away from everything he has devoted to meditation and practice in his hand-to-hand and staves. His punches and kicks can shatter small boulders (about human chest size). However in doing so he has almost forgotten how to use most of his natural abilities due to lack of use. Through meditation and practice he has been able to refrain a fraction of some of his abilities.
Spells: **Warp reality (minor: illusion) -- allows him to change reality just enough that it merely looks different while staying pysically the same.
**Metalic Flow (Low end Conjuring/Manifestation) -- allows him to control, manipulate, and create metals of all kinds. Very time consuming and energy taxing. He does not practice this as often as he would like, partially due to laziness.
Abilities/Powers: **shape shifting -- Dragons, Wyverns, Humans, Giant Salamanders (mountains), Great Panthers (Forests), Hypocanth (seas, also known as the water horse). Shifting takes a great deal of time and energy, and is so taxing that he is only able to once a month. He's able to force himself to his dragonic form in dire need as it is his true form, but makes him unable to shift for almost two months, four if he recently shifted within the past week.
**Fire/Ice Breath -- A Breath attack he can use in both Dragon and Human form, but not in any other form without time and practice. He has seldom used it and so can usually create a small cone of about 10ft.
**Fire/Ice Manipulation-conjuration/Resistance (tenichally two separate abilities/powers) -- Allows him to control the temperature of an area of about 100ft or so, though due to his low need for it due to his resistance he does it for the comfort of others. Also allows him to use a simple spark to create a fire, or a snowflake to create a patch of snow. The more time and energy and available element the greater the effect, however he is still limited to lesser feats die to low use and practice.
**Metal Dense scales -- while in Draconic form, he has Metal Dense scales, due to being an ancient. While in human form he has two small patches of stone Dense scales beneath his robes. One patch over his heart on his chest, the other on his back behind his heart. He specifically trained to keep these patches while in his human form over the years with his meditation. He is still trying to keep his Metal Dense scales but isn't quite there yet.
**Smell Detection -- Having lived alone for so long and through his meditation he has been able to keep is Draconic sense of smell while in human form. He can smell most things within a 75ft radius around him with ease, and pick up faint smells up to 100ft with concentration.
Weapon(s): His weapon apears to be rough wooden walking stick that doubles as a combat staff. However it's actually made of shed dragon scales (his in particular). Using his control over metals and a little bit of illusion magic he shaped it and made it appear to be simple wood.
An old man sits across the campfire, a large flagon in his hand while his staff rests upon his shoulder in his other hand. Taking a large swig from the flagon he speaks up. "So. You wanted to hear my story eh?" He stares at you over the crackling flames. You can smell the brew he drinks as if it was right in front of you, arcid and smokey. "Well, speak up hatchling!" You jump, quickly nodding. Hatchling? Now your really curious. He nods slightly and downs the last of his brew and tosses the flagon to you, and you barely catch it. "Do an old hermit a favor and get me another will yeh? The barrel on the side, can't miss it." You grumble under your breath but nod and get his drink. He's stalling, but you didn't travel all this way for nothing. Perhaps he knows he needs the drink to loosen his tongue... You fill the flagon, blanching at how strong the smell is, and return it to him before taking your seat once again. The old man takes a small swig, eyeing you.
"It all began long ago, before all the bloodlines and decendants of my people." He paused to take another swig and let his words settle for a moment. "I've been here since before the first demon, the first seraphim, before all the others. In fact I may have even added to a few of them." He paused to chuckle. "For I am one of the ancients." You stare at the old man blankly. Ancient one? He growls, sounding quite animalistic. "Are you so daft hatchling? Do you not learn your history, even as twisted as it may be?" Taking yet another swig he eyes you once again before sighing. "Forgive me hatchling, sometimes my temper bests me. Let me clarify. I am one of the Dragon council, the Dragons that made the major decisions for our race and kept the others in check. Unfortunately more of us despised those that called themselves decendants, and that started the Dragon wars..." He chuckled at your gaping maw. "Yes, I am a Dragon, but I chose the side that most would consider good. When those that chose the opposite began to fight us and won, I chose to live as a hermit. I've lived on every corner of this world over the years, seen a great many things. Met a lot of people. Seen a lot of good people die..." He paused once more, staring into his flagon solemly before downing it all. He looks up at you, suddenly smiling. "But for the past er, century, I've been here in this little hut meditating and practicing many things. I may be a Dragon, but I like being able to relate to others better, so I've stayed in this form for many many a year." He nodded towards a stand of splintered trees. "And I think I've made good use of of the time like this. I think it's about time that I do what I seldom do. It's time that I once again tip the scales of fate and set out to change that which may be in peril." Smiling the old man stands and walks over to you, picking you up in his arms and placing you in his bed. "Sleep well hatchling, because when you wake up I won't be here... It saddens me a bit. I was starting to like you." Stepping back out into the night he snuffed out the flames with a flick of his wrist and set out to tips the scales once more...
Trivia: I went a little crazy with the history, not explaining to much, but enough I think. :3