Character Name: (Creativity is extra points)

Sex: (Explanatory)

Appearance: (You may describe or provide a picture)

Autocratic House: (Who has funded and created you? Give a brief description and perhaps an emblem and/or name of a master)

Biological Enhancements: (Don't be too overpowered, but do be creative. The world is your biologically mutated oyster, after all. If you are to have a specific number of enhancements, the maximum is 5)

Personality: (Explanatory, but please don't use full-on stereotypes)

History: (Does not have to be long, but it's your preference)

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Character Name:
Sex:
Appearance:
Autocratic House:
Biological Enchancements:
Personality:
History:

Character Name: Magnus, the Steel Demon

Sex: Male





Biological Enhancements:

• Man of Steel: Magnus is covered neck-to-toe in carapace-like steel, giving him improved protection from blunt or battering attacks, and somewhat stopping piercing blades.
• Metal 'ead: Under the fragile flesh of Magnus's head lies thick, iron plating. This protection is great for headbutting and stopping blows that would chop his head clean off. Even durable yellow plastics have been put over his eyes to ensure that he will see his prey die all the way through.
• Harpy's Talons: Trading small stubby fingers for long, vicious metal claws, Magnus is built to deal with his opponents as a shredder deals with paper.
• Synthetic Circulation: Magnus's plating isn't only protection, but also an extension of himself. Blood vessels and an additional heart have been worked into the carapace to improve the circulation of Magnus's body, creating a man that can endure much more running, beating, and bleeding then the average cybernetic Joe.
• Emotional Control: Due to Magnus being much more pacifistic than they would like, The Scalpaleon Syndicate have programmed the steel demon with a control panel at the stem of the neck. Via remote control, his masters can render Magnus completely rageful, silent, or back to normal.

Personality: A pacifist and very philosophical, Magnus is a kind soul who's synthetic exterior truly betrays him. If he is to avoid a fight, he will, but if backed into a corner he can become extremely fierce. Otherwise, he is an intelligent gentleman that can get even squeamish and/or cowardly at times. Violence is his greatest nemesis.

History: Sold as a slave to the Scalpaleon Syndicate due to his father, a noble of said organization, losing an arrogant bet, Magnus's life has been bitter yet cruelly educational. Through terrible scientific procedures and violent trials he has become what he is, and though trauma still haunts him, he has learnt that outcry and hate only fuel the fire of Merkadia's entertainment industry. The teachings have truly scared the careful giant, but Magnus has chosen to accept this new information, and now wishes to bring about the end of Merkadia's sadistic pleasures through ways of extinguishing it's mounting flame.

Character Name: Crispin Xander

Sex: Male





Biological Enhancements:
Absolutely none.

Personality:

Crispin is stoic and rebellious. Willful strength is something he has in droves and he isn't afraid to let everyone else know. He admits that part of his strength comes from his Christian belief, a religion that has been in massive decline since the rise of the Merkadian regime long ago.
This rebel is in a state of mind where he knows he will die eventually and he damned well will do as much as he can to make it take as long as possible. Maybe if he lasts long enough his cause won't totally die with him.

History: Here's a short story instead!

"Crispin Xander?" A rather short man confirmed, looking down on the chained rebel from atop a stand. "THE Xander? Hah, you lasted a while out there didn't you?" Crispin looked up at the auctioneer before looking back at the ground in silence. A lot of his energy had been beaten out of him the last time he tried to fight back. "Come now. I've given you permission to speak, so speak!" The weasely auctioneer demanded.

Crispin tried to posture himself against the pole that held him in line with the other men and failed against the solid bindings. It was a showing of new slaves for the arena and corporations, syndicates and other houses were here to bid for them. Finally he looked up at the diminutive man's eyes, staring coldly at him. "Just kill me you little shit stain." The auctioneer beamed wickedly at him, triumphant in getting a rise.

"Oh we'll see who the shit stain is after the beasts of the arena eat you." He chuckled at his own clever remark."Xander, you and your men here have been condemned to fight in the arena until death. Your little escapades mean nothing anymore. Play nice because you're going to help line Merkadia with profit. See? Even your death will mean something!" The little auctioneer boasted.

Men in suits and various other types of ornamental outfits started walking in to see the day's haul of merchandise. "Here they are. Grovel and you might get a nice patron." The little man whispered.

A man in a black suit, lined with red gilding started eying Crispin's line as the other patrons spread around the chamber to look at others. He was middle-aged, wrinkles just setting into his eyes and gray hints striking his hairline. He looked up and down at each person with the kind of passionless poise of a man deciding what he wanted for dinner. He paused in front of Crispin and turned to look back at the auction master. Who promptly asked him a question, "Is something the matter, sir?"

"Is something the matter he says? Of course something is the matter. This merchandise is battered. Damaged merchandise is not worth such a cost. Even if it is rebel scum you should have just executed them!" He turned and leaned in toward Crispin. "Especially this one." Crispin scowled at him before forcing himself forward and head butting the man in the face. The patron fell on the ground cradling his face as some blood dripped between his hands onto the expensive suit. The hands muffled the string of curses he spat out.

The auctioneer acted immediately, arming himself with the shockstaff he kept handy against his stand and prodding Crispin. The rebel clenched and shook involuntarily as the shock hit him. "Stop!" The patron shouted, word partially muffled by the handkerchief he had pulled out to cover his bleeding nose. "This one has fire. I will enjoy snuffing it out." He wiped the blood from his nose and glanced at the rest of the line. "These are all his troop?" He questioned the auctioneer.

"Yes, Mr. Tsargorav." The auctioneer responded instantly.

"Good, I will buy them." He blew blood into the handkerchief and continued." ... At a discount!"

"A discount sir?" The auctioneer looked puzzled. A threatening leer from Mr. Tsargorav was enough to coerce him. "Of course sir, for damage done, a discount."

The Tsargorav looked the rebel in the eyes, staying away enough to avoid another sharp head butt. "You've made me bleed. I will enjoy finding creative activities for you to make me money. You will survive so long as I allow it." He turned away to motion for some of his retainers. "Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting."

Quick Overview: Crispin Xander is a notorious rebel who lasted for months in Merkadia without being caught, causing all kinds of havoc until special forces finally tracked him down. It is unusual for anyone to give military forces so much trouble. They killed most of his men before capturing the rest with non-lethal weaponry to ensure there were no more insurgencies to be had. As a show of good will to their national past time they enrolled the remaining few who were not tortured to death for information to spend the remainder of their short lives entertaining Merkadia.

Humanoid in form, his body is partially skeletal with the clear lines of his ribs waving to the world with each release of breath. His spine pokes out line mole hills when bending and his skinny arms lack any loose skin or fat, making the small slab of muscles peek out like wrapped butcher meat. Ten fingers, Ten toes, a normal heart beat and standing at a unintimidating size of 5,6 even by normal human standards he appears almost unmodified by most respect.

A dreamy cloak of skin shrouds his insides, white like silk and smooth like satin, stains dance on it like oil on water. Not mixing and seeming out of place. This image of a man is broken on his face, his eyes are sowed shut, each of his lids stretched out in massive bags as unknown organs and liquids squirm and pulsate within them. His nostril expand several lumps where his nose joint would be and his mouth is stuffed with several intestines that whistle as he takes each breath. A voice of a man, loudly but calmly escapes an open hole from a loose tube that peeks out from the mess inside his expanded gullet.

the Flow came forth as a spiritual reading of Electricity. The concept of positive and negative charges, and how energy moves became the basis for a new spiritual awakening. Originally a scorned cult, it's rapid growth lead many smaller houses and peasants to give them land and money to the point that The Flow spiritual leaders had just as much power collectively as most autocratic houses. Their ascension is a populist one. It doesn't have blood nor deeds to make it a power.

Seven saints were chosen, six answered. Each of these saints subjected themselves to extreme bio-engineering so they may gain a deeper understanding of the universe. Ultimately however, the flow knew that monsters can't dictate mankind to men. After many meditations and scribes, each sacrificed themselves in a message against a matter of society they found evil. Seven were called, six answered.

The Coward fled on his own sacrifice. Meaning to fight a blood thirsty houses head gladiator one on one, without fighting back. In need of satisfactions his temple of disciple were killed and land taken. The Coward was quickly found by the unorganized followers put into the ring. He will fight and partake in barbarity, finishing his hypocrisy or he will die in redemption.

Beyond Earthly Troubles: The skin that webs his body reacts to blunt and slashing damage with a small, powerful squirt of satin like goop that cements on the touch of air. In essence, new silky skin grows where it has been lost in seconds. Allowing him not to bleed.

The Flow: The new organs inside his skull are made to assist his higher brain functions. The speed of thought of rapidly increased, allowing him to process emotions and think longer in shorter periods.

Sins on the inside: In order to provoke a greater sense of empathy, each of the monks were given sensitive nerves that scream in pain when attacked. What could be a mild for some can be agonizing for the changed.

Master Controller: His extreme addition of frontal lobe support allows total control of his body, from stopping his own heart to inducing certain chemicals on command. The most visible example is the capacity to control all muscles, turning his tiny frame into an imposing force.

Reginus is a violently passionate person with a lot of ideas from everything in life, acting with an outspoken nature unbridled by the concept of humility. Quick to say his piece, he will rise his voice to the occasion despite his fears or other attitudes but he, himself while able to come up with ideas on life he inwardly lacks any connection to it. Never satisfied with his own musing nor teachings, a linger of doubt disconnects him from what he invests in.

His guilt looms around him for his failure to find faith that he always purported to have. He switches between a wide range of emotions. Unable to process them and not willing to discuss them. He carries his guilt in silence, but his personality lets slip the damage it has done.

One of the most powerful faces of the movement, he regularly spoke loudly at meetings and was unabashed about his controversial ideas. Constantly talking about paths to higher awareness and topics of equality, earning him many press interviews.

Unlike the other masters whom were put together by the first monk and meditated for twenty years. The Coward was a purely public figure and pushed into his position by his media and public love. In many cases the populace thought that he was in fact the leader of the movement entirely. His beginnings were in the art of agricultural industries for most of his childhood and his later years, having been born into the lands of a rural and obscure house that soon fell apart due to inward issues.

Character Name: subject 274/Buru-Enmeli/Emily/Skitter

Sex: Doesn’t really matter anymore. Nominally female.





Biological Enhancements:

Chitinous skin: covered in razor sharp armored plaits, while not as effective as grafting metal to the body they are lighter and allow more freedom of movement.

Mandible and spines: A mouth full of knives, claws like daggers, blades on their 4 legs and basically spikes everywhere on their armor.

Enhanced movement abilities: their 4 legs let them both run at about the same speed as a small horse, let them jump considerable heights, quickly dig tunnels in soft terrain and climb by stabbing their shape legs into walls.

Poison: Their sharp points can secrete a neurotoxin that will slowly cripple the target, this can be used either directly or smeared on weapons. As a result of being covered in the stuff they are designed to be immune to it and their blood can act as an anti-venom for it if dunk by others. Production can be turned on and off.

They aren't noticeably stronger than an un-augmented human so they rely on speed and the slow crippling by poison to fight.

Personality:
They used to be a rather peaceful individual, who enjoyed singing, reading and good music. Most of these things have been lost along, their new body is a coiled spring of tension, paranoia and aggression meaning they find it difficult to relax, their voice a disgusting grating mess from their inhuman mouth means they can no-longer sing. On the other hand their new body feels amazing when they are allowed to unleash it, the speed and power they have in those brief moments of freedom before the bloody carnage begins are glorious. They despise their master for taking their voice and for caging them but they can understand their willingness to abandon human forms, for they have never felt more alive, if only they could have the freedom to use their body for their own desire rather than to fight and kill other unfortunate souls.

History:
They are but one of the many slaves taken from a remote town that was recently re-pacified by advent forces, a farmhand who had nothing to do with the group that brought the ire of some house member but when the swarm come they will indiscriminately abduct individuals and their masters mark them down as collaborators in paperwork. Either no-one has noticed or cares about this practice so they were taken away, held for an in determinant amount of time before undergoing extensive modification and genetic engineering to become the monstrosity they are now.

The Advent Scientist has set them up as a gladiator after they performed well against the house's basic drones, for the purpose of further testing and to gain some income to prove they are doing useful work for the house. Having had their name and original appearance scrubbed from their memory and having only been a number, their gladiator name was given as buru-enmeli but they go by the more human Emily when they can. Known as Skitter by crowds for their appearance, style of combat and because buru-enmeli is pretentious as fuck.