Name: William Ascot

Age: 16

Appearance I:


Personality(Optional): Ascot is someone depressed at the state of today's world, yet is someone who can see the wonder and beauty around him. Although he likes helping people IRL, he can be a...mixed presence on the Internet; he tends to flame people, make aggressive comments short of flaming, and is intolerant of differences of opinion. Online, that is. Offline, he is a kind and courteous person, albeit easily frustrated, lazy, and lacking attention to give to things he isn't interested in.

Occupation: Student.

History (Optional): To be discovered IC.

Semblance Type: Enlightened.

Semblance Appearance (Optional): Just a glowing silvery-white nimbus of light.

Semblance Abilities:

Wings of Light - A silvery-white hard-light construct that takes on the form of wings. These allow Ascot to fly as fast as a helicopter or small plane, and give the required secondary powers (the ability to nullify air resistance, altitude sickness, and shield against flying bugs and birds) needed to ensure his flight goes smoothly.

Ambrosia of Heaven - A silvery-white glowing fluid that can floats in the air and can be moved around Ascot's sensory range at will, and can be changed to three forms:

1.) Healing - This fluid can heal the wounds and sickness of those it touches; it is also edible, and tastes like milk and honey.

2.) Burning - The fluid turns extremely hot and bright, becoming a ranged weapon with versatile and terrible effects.

3.) Absorbing - The fluid turns as soft as silly putty but as firm as steel, able to 'soak' cutting and blunt force in equal measure.

Appearance II:


Fallen Information (Optional): Perhaps we can glimpse the mystery behind this Fallen's fate...

Appearance I:
A seemingly ever-present smile is plastered on her round face, underneath a large slope of a nose. Narrow, droopy eyes the colour of almonds sparkle, and above laze unkempt eyebrows. Her hair is the colour of hazelnut shells, and dances in disorderly waves to her lower back. Often she thinks birds might be nesting in it. Fine wrinkles line the corners of her lips and eyes, giving her a rather kindly expression.

Semblance Type: Enlightened

Semblance Appearance:
It’s a visage that might be made from folded waves of the deepest blue polished lapis, in possession of unnaturally bright flecks of gold that one would be forgiven for thinking emanated their own light. A bold brow crashes over two, perfectly circular eye-holes. Towards the lower edges, eight, thick tentacles splay off from just below where the absent mouth might be on such a façade. Two reach back on either side, designed to caress the skull, above and below the ears. The remaining four curve in such a way to hold the chin and trail down the neck. Suckers of exquisite detail cluster around the tips of these wandering appendages.

Semblance Abilities:
“Quit harshing my mellow” – Can reduce or completely negate the sound within a small area or that produced by an individual. Manifests itself as shimmering white light at the edges of its affect, almost like the shadows underneath a rippling pool.

It goes up to eleven – Can take the sound within an area and amplify it. Appears as an aurora of bright greens and orange-reds around the target.

Sugar Magnolia – From her form, emanates supernaturally-calming, ambient sounds and a faint pulsing of violet light. What each individual hears will likely be different, and the sound may well be different each time it is heard.

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right – Creates a glittering stream of pink smokes that chimes with a thousand tinkling bells and smells of sweet and foreign mysteries. When inhaled, pain, both physical and psychological is numbed. It only lasts for five minutes and then needs to be reapplied or it fades quickly over the course of about thirty seconds.

Appearance II:


The colours of her person become more vibrant, and flowers seem to forever weave their way into her hair.

Name: Tristan Traeger

Age: Twenty one

Appearance I:



Personality:

Tristan is friendly but jaded, an amiable nihilist, a dreamer both sad and thankful to have been so rudely awakened. He's always just a little bit submissive, never showing force when he can stand to go with the flow, always happy to play the game, play along, to humor and to validate. He takes the shape of the world around him and remembers his own only occasionally, in moments of terrible clarity, shining and sharp as broken glass. He used to be different, but then again, didn't everyone? He used to believe he was destined to save the world.

But then again, didn't everyone?

Occupation: Student of sin, New Age charlatan

History:

Tristan came to Lightbridge just a few years back, bright-eyed missionary child of the Way of Light's charismatic messiah and his favorite chorister. The Way of Light had long since slipped past the boundary that separates church from cult, and his sending was more a rival's power play than a show of trust, but he didn't really understand all that at the time. All he knew was he had been chosen! Such a big mission. So serendipitous, this city with its synonym for a name, this new adventure for mankind, for him...!

He didn't come alone, of course. Lance (short for Lancelot; all the kids had knight names, or lady names, to help armor and isolate them in the irreverent world) was his best friend, almost a brother. Sir Wolfgang, he was a little less sure of; older, iron-eyed, too quick to smile and too knowing a smiler. Someone who Tristan couldn't help but think of as, well, worldly.

And he was worldly, was Wolfgang. He liked to drink and start nasty fights, usually after he said something about someone, about their family, usually a woman or a kid. He always met eyes when he said these things, and that was when his smile was widest. Wolfgang had huge, heavy hands, and so these fights often went his way, and never mind the one he'd been steadily losing for the soul of the boys in his charge. But one day a fight didn't go his way. Someone broke a bottle, not a first time, and then they broke Sir Wolfgang, which was. Tristan wasn't there, but during the trial it turned out someone caught it all on cellphone. Several someones, actually.

They were supposed to be invincible. That was the secret truth that had kept them all together, the heart of the Way of Light, that bad things couldn't really happen to them - not really. God would test them - [i][color=82ca9d]was Sir Wolfgang my test?[/i][/color], but in the end they would prevail, it was their destiny. They all had destinies. They were going to save the world. But watching the trial, listening to the defendant, to their tearful lover, Tristan realized that was probably what just about everyone believed. He realized that Sir Wolfgang hadn't been special, and neither was he. They were none of them invincible.

He wrote a letter back home, left it with Lance, who seemed more betrayed by Tristan than by the death of their guardian. Lightbridge had opportunities, and Tristan took advantage of them. Made his way. At least at first. Then he got tired, and so he drifted a little, disconnected, settled. At least for a while. Then he got tired...and so on. Today he's a vagrant. That's not quite the same as being broke, mind you - he makes it okay, mostly out of the pockets of a certain kind of starstruck bubble-tea-and-power-balance mystic, and he even has an office of sorts, with two chairs and everything. He's eating, anyway. When he wants to. He's pretty thin now.

And then the dying started - and with the dying, the rumors about the Subway Ghost Girl, the whispers - and then someone he knew was gone, and for some reason he just had to know the truth. A nightmare, maybe, or a memory from the bad old days. Some sermon stuck in his brain that caught ahold of his imagination and wouldn't shake loose again. the He went looking, and something looked back, something that looked like a ghost but wasn't, because there's no such thing as ghosts. Was it an accident, just dumb luck that Tristan heard the call? Had to be. Like ghosts and gods and promises kept, there's no such thing as destiny.

Semblance Type: Enlightened...?

Semblance Appearance: A full, curving mask of emerald and carbon-black crystal, split in five places along a star-shaped fracture to reveal bright gold and dark iron in the form of moving clockworks suggestive of living eyes. Four exquisite silver horns extend delicately around the Semblance, colorful ribbons hanging from each.

Semblance Abilities: Names shamelessly stolen from Exalted. Concepts shamelessly stolen from the Book of Genesis.

Once, the Fallen known as Kiarrine was a truly Enlightened artisan-architect among her kind - but that was long before her Fall. Those powers, today, are lost. This Semblance remembers only her ending, the huntress with bared teeth and rolling eyes, treacherous quartermaster to an army she hated and feared almost as much as its enemies.

Constructive Convergence of Principles: With rite and blood sacrifice - usually his own - Tristan can plant the seed of one of Kiarrine's mobile command posts, which will promptly begin extending a creep of holographic blueprints and the suggestions of Enlightened geometry. Over time these diagrams warp surrounding patches of landscape or containing structures into a strange, but beautiful, pseudomechanical "garden" of responsive clockwork tendrils and equipment-groves. Such gardens offer shelter, sustenance, surveillance, and armory within their confines, all that a madling angel would need to fight a one-way war against the shadows she saw from the corners of her eyes. This is not an effective power for crisis situations - it can offer up a single tool, fruit, or camera-vine in a few moments, but its full offering requires at least a day of guided construction, and considerably longer when overtaking large structures. If the seed at the heart of the garden is uprooted and destroyed, everything else goes with it. Explosively. If not maintained regularly by blood and prayer after reaching full bloom, they'll initiate a controlled collapse at the same rate they were built.

Ego-Infused Pattern Primacy: The fruits born of the Semblance offer sustenance and strength, but come at disturbing cost. Each provides a full meal's nourishment, the accelerated clarity of an amphetamine high, and an unchecked access to adrenaline or equivalent biomechanical systems of a body. They have only two side effects, but each is significant: first, users will dream in externally-visible holographics, which can be interfaced by a garden to affect their content. Second and more importantly the fruits usurp addictions - physical and psychological, harmless as sugar or deadly as suicidal obsession - taking over their effects and turning them towards the fruits themselves.

Precision Thought-Force Exercise: It is the way of Chaos to play monster, to confront every problem with overwhelming power and tear to shreds or devour whole all that can be, losing much of value in the process. It is the way of Order to approach even obstacle with exactly appropriate measures. Tristan's powers and their benefits scale with the degree to which he's outnumbered or outmatched. It was by cultivating this ability that Kiarrine nourished her delusions of one day standing as gaoler over all the hateful hordes of the Unfettered and her traitor compatriots...but like any power it has its limits. It feeds on hostile intent and living will, and cannot activate against mechanical or lifeless opposition, against enemies unaware of or not primarily focused on the user, or against those without definite desire to harm or kill - self-defense or efforts to subdue trigger nothing. Even efforts to subdue with future malice are exempt.

Appearance II:



The Fallen: Kiarrine, the Silver Gift, was once as kind and trusting as she was brilliant, and she WAS brilliant. She built such grandiose wonders as the Sundust Sanctuary and the Path of Laughter, but she was best-known - once - for the peerless pleasure garden orrerry known as Kiarrine's Starcatch.

One day, it was burned to the ground.

Kiarrine could not fathom the evil of this, and in trying some small and sacred thing at the heart of her strained, and creaked, and snapped. She became other than she was, and it is terrible indeed to see a servant of Order lose their purpose and their way. She decided that if her greatest design could be sundered by Chaos - for surely it was the work of some Unfettered that undid her - then nothing, no one, could be above suspicion, or corruption, or ruin. She devoted her delicate hands to constructing war-hutches and boltholes, filling these places with paranoid data-dumps and terrifying schemes to purge and restore the Enlightened to what she believed was true Order, unaware of how far from grace she was falling.

Her end was a mercy brought about by three who had once loved her: a soldier she had brought peace, a cruel soul she had been kind to, and a small-minded one she had shown wonders. They only meant to keep and heal her, but they underestimated her insane resolve, and where the last garden of Kiarrine once grew there is only gray ash and scorched earth today.

Name: Zino Bertran

Age: 27

Appearance I:


Personality: Zino is strong-willed and dutiful: working hard and staying focused on his goals. Highly determined, he strives to meet his obligations. His word is a promise, and a promise means everything. Zino would rather run himself into the ground with extra days and lost sleep than fail to deliver the results he said he would. He believes that order is accomplished best when everyone involved knows exactly what is going on and why. He rarely tolerates unclear guidelines and people who break established rules undermine this effort. Structure and rules foster dependability; chaos creates unforeseen setbacks and missed deadlines. His strong work ethic allows him to apply himself to a variety of situations, picking up and applying new data and grasping the details of challenging situations as a matter of course. Zino believes in brutal honesty at all costs. Emotional manipulation, mind games and reassuring lies all run counter to his preference for managing the reality of the situations he encounters with straightforward candor.

However, these traits can make him stubborn, insensitive, and judgmental. While not intentionally harsh, his love of factual decision-making and veracity can wound the emotions of those more sensitive. Zino is unlikely to respect people who disagree with those facts--especially those who remain willfully ignorant of them. He finds it difficult to accept that he was wrong about something, and struggles to admit any failure with grace. His strong desire to adhere to the rules makes him reluctant to bend those rules or try new things, even when the downside is minimal. All this can combine to make Zino Bertran believe he is the only one who can see tasks through reliably, which can lead him to believe the responsibility for the success of events is his alone to bear.

Occupation: Classified

History: Classified

Semblance Type: Enlightened

Semblance Appearance:
As simple white mask designed to cover the entire face.

Semblance Abilities: Chronomancy

• Temporal Administration - Allows for a single target to be made slower or faster in their actions, reflexes or abilities.
• Instantaneous Direction of Will - Teleports the user and those in contact with the user to any other place in visual range instantly.
• Dimensional Control - Creates a pocket-sized portal to private storage dimension.
• Manipulation of Permanence - Causes a single effect or ability to be permanent as long as Zino can maintain concentration.

Appearance II:


Fallen Information: Classified

Name: Fred Bell

Age: 20

Appearance I: Average height, thin runner's build, blue eyes and short curly brown hair, premature laugh-lines around his eyes, high cheekbones, likes to wear colourful jackets, wears (needs) plain wire frame glasses.

Personality: bubbly, free-flowing, just a bunch of water puns.

Fred typically is determined, finding a task or goal and fixating upon it, and is very loyal to his friends. He has great self control and is good at hiding his emotions, but generally feels a high degree of empathy and likes to share his thoughts and feelings if he can, rather than bottling them up. He tries to (and succeeds in) see(ing) the funny side in all things, but can generally tell when not to laugh, and won't let this get in the way of solving a problem. He can laugh at himself and be honest about his own flaws, but at the same time places strong importance on whether or not people respect him and the respect he has for them.

Occupation: Student

History: "It's all footnotes to getting this magic mask."

Semblance Type: UNFETTERED

Semblance Appearance: A simple oval shaped mask, made of a thin layer of water that holds its form until pressed onto a face; it will burst like a water balloon (minus the balloon, so... like water) when put on, followed by Fred's whole body and anything on him.

Semblance Abilities: the water type that fire is super effective against

Like the waters: Fred can dissolve his body into water (and reform it!). His clothes and possessions on his body come with him, there are limits to what can take, his wallet goes with him but a car would not, the bacteria in his stomach would but a dog would not, a stick would, but if that stick is the railing of a building, at some point it gets cut off and he doesn't take that with him too. In this form he is not an inanimate puddle, instead he can project his body with substantial speed and pressure. Mainly this grants him mobility and durability, but there are some offensive applications too.



Puddles can die: upon transforming he starts at just above freezing temperature and cannot drop below this, exposure to high temperatures (be that hot weather, a house fire or flamethrowers) will heat and eventually begin to evaporate his form as if he were normal water, he can counteract this by drawing water vapour in from the air but this by necessity becomes less effective the warmer he gets. Significant evaporation (beyond a certain threshold) will mean he can't turn back without sustaining random injury proportional to what is missing (chunks of his body missing so very likely to be crippling or fatal) so he will either need to find a body of water or risk it to turn back.

People are 80% water, water is 0% a person: there is no time limit on using his water form, but anything more than a couple minutes using it and he will begin to rapidly succumb to the Essence, losing track of what he was doing and who his friends and enemies are, his memories and personality, his ability to communicate with people and to see himself as one of them. This is reversible upon transforming back, reverting at the same rate that he is lost to the Essence.

Appearance II:

Fallen Information: an entity akin to an ocean spirit or water elemental, to a human it is fully alien in desires, goals, personality and way of thinking. The Essence lacks that personality, but when Fred is essentially taking on its form, his mind and his that body are so alien that his personality can become lost in the alien format and fall apart.