Female

Nineteen

Human

Beacon Academy

Originally from the countryside of Sanus, Lorra has managed to immerse herself quite effectively into the urban lifestyle of Vale. Compared to the modest clothing style that she wore while on her parent's farm, Lorra has chosen to update her wardrobe to that of a darker, more grungy design. She displays her current attire with a shorter, somewhat mismanaged haircut and cloaks her small frame body with a rough, overbearingly large trench coat. Upon first glance her clothes alone will tell you the subtle signs of 'beware', but within that cautionary vibe is a girl with a more softer appeal.

Her red eyes are, not of anger and fury, but of warmth and emotion and they are usually the first trait that people notice. Her soft, pale skin and whitely blonde hair help to draw attention to these vivid irises, pulling curious individuals into an engaging conversation as opposed to a simple side comment. Knowing this Lorral is able to use her terrible sense of charm to try help win over the friendship of others. It doesn't always work as some people will remain stubborn no matter the situation, but this is not something that the girl mulls over too heavily. For now she enjoys her new-found adventure, curious as to where it may lead, nervous as to what lays unseen beyond the next horizon.

Many people have signed up to the four great academies in order to become hunters and huntresses, to eventually take on various paying jobs for money, to leave their mark on the world for future generations, and yet Lorral isn't such a person to hold these desires. While the thought of becoming a skilled warrior for the city has crossed the young woman's mind, the dream of defending and protect her hometown is something that appeals to her lot more.

Lorral's hometown is in an area that unfortunately borders on Grimm territory, an section of land that so happens to be filled with lush nutrients for growing some of the best crops in Sanus. For the majority of her life Lorral has grown up in this rural landscape and she has had to endure time and time again as people ventured out to fight the Grimm, to prevent them from invading the town, to put their lives on the line for their people.

During her late teens Lorral heard about Vale's newly built Academy, a place where one can learn to be a true fighter, and with her parent's farewell wishes she set off on a journey to the school. There she hoped that she would learn more about the world around her, to see beyond the many square miles that she called home, and to better herself as a person. She had no idea that she would be chosen for a special task, to go on a trip towards the Island of Vytal, a trip that would lead onto the adventure of a lifetime.

❖ Solar Lily (Weapon Image)

❖ Light on the Feet

❖ In Touch with Nature

❖ Leave No Soul Behind

Male

20

Human

Atlas Academy

Sep is a fairly odd figure to see outside of Mantle. Standing at a six foot even, he tends to wear his black colored hair freely, only maintained enough to keep the hair out of his emerald green eyes, only tying it back into a pony tail when things get rather bad in a hurry. Whenever he isn't in the Academy uniform, he can be found in his preferred attire which doubles as field attire. He tends towards a very dark turtleneck, due to the cold weather found in the north, as well as a jacket that more protects his arms and upper torso than actually provide weather protection. The other half of the jacket is usually worn around his waist, the tailcoats hanging down to nearly conceal the slacks he wears, the same color as his turtleneck. If desired, he can wear the coat normally, reattaching the bottom and top halves which, from the outside, is hardly discernible as being separable. What likely stands out most is either his necklace, something he refuses to discuss, or his armor. Most Hunters tend to shy away from armor, preferring mobility, but Sep much prefers the added weight to unarmed punches and kicks provided. As such, the white greaves reach up to his knees while the gauntlets reach up to cover his forearms, most of that hidden beneath his jacket sleeves.

Sep is a firm believer in the idea that one who chooses to hunt should be wary, lest they descend to the same level as of that which they hunt resides. As such, he prefers to not let emotional outbursts get the better of him when dealing with Grimm, at least as best he can during the training at the Atlas Academy he has received thus far. He sees it as a necessary work, the Hunters and Huntresses a necessary force, for rather grim (no puns intended) opposition. This focus of purpose tends to bleed over into other aspects of his life, inadvertently mind you, often times preferring the solace of cold logic when faced with hard decisions. This doesn't mean that he avoids the guilt of mistakes, mind you, and he holds himself accountable, sometimes to an unreasonable degree. Ironically, this tends to, unwittingly, make him the very man of extremes he suggests avoiding when hunting down the Grimm.

Off the field, or during moments of rest, Sep isn't terribly hard to get along with. He is firm in that everyone pulls their own weight, though not everyone can pull the same weight, though he will volunteer to shoulder the burdens of others. Humorless to a fault, he often misses jokes or puns, reacting quite literally to things that are jokes, or answering rhetorical questions bluntly. This tends to put him at odds with those that love to joke, though he has and will indulge in sarcasm, something he does notice, implying his lack of humor might be chosen vice inherent. Behind these often humorless green eyes though is a determination, a resolve that seems to not be likely to waver, let alone cave, anytime soon. He looks always to the future, learning from the past certainly, but not dwelling on it. What is done, and what has happened, is past them now. Dwelling on it or, whatever Gods forbid, forgetting it will do nothing but bring people trouble, and he is quick to pass events like they never happened, keeping their lessons in mind, but that is it. This can often come across as either forgiving or callous, depending on the event, and he is certainly not apologetic about it. Extracting an apology out of Sep is something of a chore, since he sees no point in words trying to mend what is already done.

Sep doesn't quite recall where he was born originally, having spent most of his life on the move, a military brat that pretty much moved around wherever his mother was in the back lines. He wasn't the only one of his kind, but it was a rarity as most of them had relatives to stay with in the civilian areas much farther from the dangerous areas. The ones he did interact with, well, didn't appreciate his mannerisms and disinterest in pointless brawling. When he wasn't at the hospitals or medical tents, helping out the doctors and nurses, he was getting dragged into street fights and brawls despite his expressed disinterest in such things. He won some, he lost some, and cleaned himself off and kept moving forward, eyes ahead and not looking back despite the stern talking to he would get from those around him for such things.

All wars come to an end, though, and with the end of the Great War and the treaties being put in place, Sep would find himself struggling alongside his parents to return to Mantle and live a civilian life. His mother had it easier, finding work at a hospital, treating the sick and injured outside of a combat scenario. His father had it worse, going out into the wastes to explore and track down any useful resources that might have been lost or abandoned in the cold. Sep himself found himself without any real purpose, having been so focused on his abnormal upbringing that adjusting to a lifestyle most average teens had was bizarre. Yet, adjust he would have to, if it weren't for the opening of Atlas Academy.

Sep saw a means of serving and protecting, to save others from a threat, in applying to Atlas Academy. As a Hunter, he could work to insure that others didn't have to walk in their footsteps, that they could grow up normally and not have the strange life that he himself, and that others during such times, had. His determination and ever forward looking eyes carried him well, even if that same determination caused him trouble at times too. As soon as rumors started circulating on the matter of a mission to Vytal island, Sep was first to volunteer. Not only was this something that would be once in a lifetime, no doubt, but he was convinced that the other hunters, from other Academies, would need the most diverse skills they could get. Adapting and moving forward, alongside his practical tricks, Sep was convinced that he would be ready to help with whatever happened.

Female

17

Human

Atlas Academy of Mantle

Marina is a blue-eyed young woman of Mantle military nobility, which informs her posture and gestures to an extent that she doesn't even realize. She is not particularly tall, she's self-conscious about her stocky figure and slightly wide face, and she has her long blue hair tied in a somewhat loose ponytail that is ready to fly apart at any given moment save for the red hair ribbon she wears - yet she stands straight in her neat and proper clothes and holds her chin up high, exuding a sense of confidence in her abilities that commands respect. Her Aura is a solid blue.

For battle, she usually wears a charcoal-colored military-style uniform with puffy upper arm sleeves that become more form-fitting around the forearms, loose pants around the thighs, knee-high black leather miltary boots, black gloves, and a black belt. Over this, she is usually equipped with a blue metal breastplate with two red stripes down the sides outlined in thin strips of white, has a blue metal vambrace and pauldron on her left arm as well as some additional armor plates on her left glove, and an extra plate of armor that extends from her cuirass on her left hip down to her thigh on her left side. She wears a pair of ammo bandoliers around her belt area with extra grenades for her weapon. She strives to keep this uniform as clean and as neat as possible (like all of her clothes), given the style of some of its features.

Outside of battle, she will dress accordingly as she sees the demands of the situation. Formal occasions are her forte, and even in more casual situations, she will be dressed crisply. Marina prefers her battle attire since it covers her entire body and hides some of the stockiness of her frame, but she will not shy away from what she sees as her duty to be seen by the public as a member of her noble household.

Marina is a curious mix - she respects and honors the traditions that made Mantle such a strong military power, yet she also is glad she lives in a time where she can express herself more freely than ever before. She feels noblesse oblige as her primary motivator in becoming a cadet at the Atlas Academy, and wants to prove to everyone that Mantle will be excellent at any task they choose - including this new business of training Huntsmen and Huntresses. That said, she also has some of the prejudices inherited from her father about the proper place of the lower classes - particularly those of different nations, and of the Faunus.

Marina is the daughter of a naval officer father and a skilled diplomat mother. Her mother has long had sympathies for the ideals of self-expression and color, and was delighted to be a part of the process of coming up with a treaty that would forever allow this to be the rule of all the kingdoms. Marina was suddenly given a freedom she had never experienced before in her childhood, and she found she enjoyed it. Yet, her father remained bitter that Mantle lost the war, and his strong sentiment that things would have been better if the traditions of Mantle had become the rule of law have not been lost on Marina. Certainly, some of Mantle's standards as a whole were not admirable, but there was still a sense of nobility and honor in those traditions that Marina saw as still necessary in the current world.

Marina grew up around the military, and even before the advent of the Academies, it was expected that she would become an excellent officer and leader someday. She would often sail with her father and learn how to run a boat, and she often stepped up to the task of taking command in her father's absence on her family's boat. Once the idea of the Academies came into reality, Marina volunteered immediately, though her age prevented her from joining Atlas Academy at the very first. Nevertheless, her experience around the military gave her a head start among many of the other nobles who hadn't had such an advantage, being the children of noblemen and dilettantes, so she quickly rose to prominence as an honorable yet fierce combatant on the training field.

Her parents still quarrel about the way the war should have gone, and Marina desperately wants to prove that they both can be right. And so she would leap at the opportunity to make sure a representative of Atlas joined the other cadets on the mission to Vytal.

Male

Nineteen

Human

Becon Academy of Vale

Voyd’s sandy hair and golden eyes bring more life to his face than any of his other features. His constant fervor and excitement shines brightly from them and the hair is simply a complementary factor. His pride is clear not only because of how he carries himself, but also because of the consistently smug smirk often plastered across his face. His nose is hardly anything of note compared to the other distracting features around it, but the clear cut angles of his jaw seem to only bolster the haughty air around him.

As far as clothing is concerned, Voyd sticks to simple button-up collared shirts with denim pants, boots, and gloves to improve his grip. As far as combative armour goes, due to the fact that his fighting style relies heavily on parries and maneuverability, he remains lightly equipped. Leathers with only the bare minimum for plating and reinforcement around his shoulders, a pair of vambraces and shin guards, and a light chest piece.

With an aura that glows in brilliant violet, Quinten is an extroverted and excitable guy. His pride is not easily confused for simple confidence, however, as it is a much louder form of self-esteem. Despite his arrogance, or rather because of it, Voyd is always willing and quick to help others. However, it is more likely that this behavior is for showing off than it is for showing compassion. At the very least, he doesn’t use his magnetism to take advantage of others – such behaviour he views as weak. Getting by with your own strength is the only time your effort counts.

Voyd was born to a family of military service, his paternal side had been in the armies and navies of their homeland for generations. Sadly, still fresh in their memories was the death of Voyd’s grandfather, who perished as an old officer in The Great War, although he should have left the service years prior. His parents had him when they were even older than most others, after his father’s retirement to the farm, often causing them to be confused for his grandparents. He was the youngest of four, but the most ambitious of the young farmhands.
From an early age, Voyd was constantly getting into fights, escalating squabbles from simple words to stubborn brawls. He refused to be condescended to or insulted without putting up some kind of fight. The boy’s father didn’t know what to do with him, considering his behavior, but knew that his son couldn’t keep coming home covered in bruises from losing fights, even if he started them for the wrong reasons. Despite his aging bones and tired muscles, the man began teaching his son to fight defensively. Fortunately, the boy’s temper was soothed in some regard by the practice and he grew into a more disciplined youth just as the Huntsman academies of the four nations were constructed. His acceptance into Beacon was a proud day and it was there he began developing the skills he needed to fight beasts rather than men. Still, he proves to be a better duelist than Huntsman.

It was here at Beacon that he could be molded into a champion of the people – to prove that he is the best, that he is a master of his trade, and that he deserves the utmost respect.