Power: A
Speed: B
Range: A
Persistence: B
Precision: B
Potential: C

Name: Carroman Fisch Montenegro

Age: 37

Nationality: Filipino-American (dual)

Noble Arm Name & Appearance:

Noble Arm Rank:



Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range:
Ranged/Support; Healing Light/Smiting Light; Short-Mid-Long Range

Noble Arm Abilities:
Blessing of the Holy Light: After 5 seconds of charging, a beam of golden light emanates from the Dragon Staff up to ten feet away, healing whatever injuries it is shone upon. The light can quickly mend small bruises and cuts; open wounds can easily take from a few minutes to an hour depending on severity. It cannot restore missing limbs.

Divine Shield: After a charge time of 5 seconds, Carroman can create a magical shield about as wide and tall as a sedan, which is capable of tanking a single anti-tank projectile. It lasts about 15 seconds before dissipating by itself.

Light's Judgment: After gathering energy for about 3 seconds, the Dragon Staff fires a focused beam of searing golden and orange heat that easily melts through concrete, steel, and organic material. It is long ranged, precise, and can be reflected by mirrors, allowing it to bounce and strike unsuspecting targets behind cover. In C rank ranges, its power is sufficient to penetrate tank armor without any issue. Its range can be extended, but its offensive power quickly dwindles the farther it is drawn out; at B rank range, it can no longer penetrate solid objects, instead scalding them upon impact.

Verdict of Heaven: For five seconds, Carroman channels energy in the Dragon Staff. He is then able to summon a beam of holy light from the sky to burn targets on the ground within 100 meters and is in line of sight. It has far less raw power and precision, but has a wide area of effect of around ten feet, setting combustible materials alight.

Kneel Before The Light!: Considered to be a last ditch ability, Carroman has demonstrated the capability of sending down a powerful conflagration of divine light from above, shielding all allies and immolating everything else within a 750 meter radius around himself. It drains so much energy that he becomes powerless for a while. Requires a channel time of 20 seconds and must be defended from enemy attack.

Misc Abilities:

Marksman: Being from the military, Carroman is a bit of a good shot, though he doesn't really like using it.

Fluency: He knows English and Tagalog in equal terms.

Personality: Carroman may initially come off as someone with a no nonsense attitude, perhaps because he carries this serious, implacable expression most of the time in camp. However, those who are at least acquainted with him know that while he may be a little grumpy during serious situations, especially to the younger folk, he is driven by a desire to see all of them live through the war. He is rather protective, and could be driven to a vengeful streak should he witness his allies being brutalized.

As for most things, though, Carroman takes them in stride. When in a relaxed situation, he doesn't seem to take anything too seriously; jokes and pranks may become a common occurrence.

His opinions on the Big Three are, unsurprisingly, often in the negative. Gunnar despises the Downward Spiral because of their chaotic nature; they are a great threat to the concept of order itself. The Paragons he sees as somewhat unrestrained and in need of regulation. The Virtues, in turn, are viewed by him with some skepticism, though they are potentially going to be the ones that lead humanity to greatness.
*Likes: Cats, pizza, dad jokes, convoluted schemes, showing the enemy how wrong they are, and donating to charity.

*Dislikes: Overly spicy food, things going not as planned, dark places, and heights.

Fears: Failing his allies, somehow.

Bio: Carroman Montenegro, named after the combination of the names of his father and grandfather, was born in the city of Manila, to an American mother and Filipino father. His was a rather unnotable, if not well off life, as his family constantly flew to and fro the two countries. That is, until he manifested his Noble Arm after he suffered a car accident during university. There, drawing both on his now less than stellar mobility and his fascination with the tunnel of light that he saw when he was knocked out, he manifested a cane that granted what looked like to be holy energies for his use. That, and he liked dragons since he was a wee lad, so it had a dragonhead. Bizarrely enough, the healing powers he had gained couldn’t heal his leg, so he walks with a limp to this day.

Ever the creative one, he named his Noble Arm the Dragon Staff, though he currently maintains that he is open to new options.

Either way, he would be in the United States Army as a chaplain after that, going on two tours in the Middle East. It isn’t clear what he saw or did there other than the fact that he ministered to the spiritual needs of the soldiers that he was assigned to. The notable incident, however, was when he fought an extremist Noble Arms user, taking them down with a powerful conflagration of explosive light. There, he wielded his last and greatest spell, and went to bedrest for two days straight after that.

Now, he has come to the Philippines, the land of his father, to aid in the conflict against China. He was told that the Noble Arms division sorely lacked chaplains, and so he joined. He didn’t care that they were concerned about his… movement speed, saying that he was very much capable of taking care of himself.

*Current Goal: See China defeated, return to a peaceful existence, and maybe finally get a wife

Military or Civilian Rank: Chaplain

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Name: Ayahime Rain Walters
Age: 21
Birthdate: May 21st, 2001 AD
Nationality: Japanese-American









Military or Civilian Rank:
Freelance Reporter, War Correspondent | Unregistered Noble Arms Master

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The Noble Arm Section

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Xorzin’s Wrath


There is a voice coming from Ayahime's Noble Arm, the Xorzin's Wrath. It is distorted and is more feminine and female in tone. Xorzin's Wrath frequently taunts Ayahime to be more like her.
Noble Arm Rank:


Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range:
Melee | Dual-Element (Dark and Fire) | Close to Mid-Ranged

Noble Arm Abilities:
Xorzin's Manifestation

Xorzin's Wrath is a Noble Arm that is both sentient and actively malicious. Identifying itself as "female," Xorzin holds enmity for all but its wielder, seeking to harm or kill anything and anyone that so much as slightly inconveniences Ayahime. Xorzin seeks to corrupt its wielder, to taunt and torment her until it can drag her down to its level, shaping her into its sister in self-serving, gleeful malice.

Xorzin is capable of using its powers entirely without its wielder's input and must be actively suppressed from doing so. Moreover, when Ayahime is emotionally compromised, Xorzin is able to manifest of its own will and take physical control of Ayahime's body to use as a puppet. Under normal circumstances, Xorzin's length is mostly white, but when acting of its own accord, the white bleeds into pitch black. During a self-summon, a dense, reddish-black fog rises around Ayahime's personal space (around a 1-2 meter radius). Causing Ayahime's hair to stand on end, the fog inflicts harsh, lingering rashes akin to Dermatitis on physical contact while it exists -on both Ayahime and others- and dissipates fully once the self-summon is complete. For as long as Xorzin remains manifested, it constantly emanates a seemingly indiscriminate aura of murderous wrath and gleeful malice.

Xorzin's Flaming Hell Slash

A burst of scorching-hot flames can be emitted from the blade, clocking in at temperatures of 707°F (375°C). The attack generally manifests as a rough wave of flame and heat, and Ayahime has some limited capacity to warp the orientation of that wave to avoid completely indiscriminate destruction, even in the case that it is Xorzin, itself, forcing the usage of this ability. The direct manifestation of flames cuts out at a maximum range of 75 yards from Ayahime's position. This ability tends to be highly straining on a mental and physical level, which usually leaves Ayahime stuck completely stationary for the duration of unleashing it.

Xorzin's Dark Doppelganger

Xorzin's trump card, when needs must, the Noble Arm can possess and separate Ayahime's shadow, forming it into an inverted "alter" version of its wielder named "Xorzia", a perfect physical clone aside from black eyes, purple hair, red clothes and blackish-red pentagrams for earrings. Xorzin's alter body possesses all of the powers the Noble Arm normally has, completely independent of Ayahime, even a copy of the weapon's blackened form. However, the copies of their powers are "flavored" accordingly. For example, the fog created by Foreboding Shroud. Ayahime is stuck with the relatively harmless version, while Xorzia is constantly being worn down by her harm-inducing version, leaving the latter more ferocity but less staying power in the long run.

In the meantime, for the duration of this ability, Ayahime is left free of Xorzin's direct influence while also lacking a shadow. While they still share a telepathic communication, Xorzia cannot influence Ayahime's control of her own copy of Xorzin's powers or vice-versa. As a result, both Ayahime and Xorzia gain a rank-up to Precision B for the purposes of unleashing and controlling their flames, due to not having to struggle against each-others' desires. Ayahime's Persistence ranks up to C due to no longer having to divert effort to restraining Xorxin, while Xorzia's Speed ranks up to B due to no longer being hampered by Ayahime's hesitance and good will.

Able to move up to 200 meters/658 feet away from her "benefactor" at any given time, the doppelganger remains manifested for as long as Xorzia can manage to hold out in the face of her own constant self-inflicted and accumulated outside damage and exhaustion. With the same physical "stats", she can be killed as easily as Ayahime. The ability also ends if Xorzia loses grip on her blackened copy of the Noble Arm or Ayahime is killed/utterly exhausted.

Xorzin's Foreboding Shroud (Passive)

Shortly after Xorzin finishes manifesting, whether by Ayahime's or its own will, it will begin emitting a reddish-black fog of darkness in a 6-10-foot radius of her position that will persist so long as the Noble Arm remains summoned. The fog's varying range is a result of Ayahime's movement, growing shorter in front of her the faster she runs in a given direction and spreading out to its fuller range if she takes a moment to move relatively little. As such, the outward assumption that she is always at the center is false, especially in a heated combat.

The fog greatly hinders sight. Aside from Ayahime, those inside are unable to visually perceive further than 3 feet in front of them. While within the fog, Ayahime's footsteps -but not other sounds- are completely silenced.

Normally, other than sensory inhibition, the fog is harmless. However, if Xorzin is presently in control, the fog gains the same rash-inducing quality as the self-summon fog, harming and rapidly draining Ayahime. Ayahime is dangerously ignorant of her mounting fog-induced damage/exhaustion until Xorzin dissipates.

Appearance: Due to World Manipulation, Verdict’s appearance can change rapidly in all aspects. Usually Verdict is 6’1” in height, has short brown hair, no facial hair to speak of, dark brown eyes, an overall thin but toned build, featuring a massive shit eating grin. Outside of combat he typically wears a blue short sleeve T and sweatpants. Inside of combat, he wears a custom made suit of armor. Said armor is lightweight, but is capable of withstanding small arms fire from modern weapons. While not impervious, it increases survivability by a significant margin. It also closely matches the full range of motion a human can do in melee combat. Said armor also covers his face, making it impossible to see his face clearly. He also carries a Beretta 92FS, attached to said armor, on the left leg.

Name: Solomon “Verdict” Aliyah

Age: 31

Nationality: Canadian

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Subterfuge - Subterfuge is a halberd, though notably is visually constructed purely out of a single material, appearing to be akin to steel. Despite this, Subterfuge remains light and comfortable to use. Upon Subterfuge’s shaft resides symbols representing concepts such as a divine being, the soul, and the Earth. The weapon’s blade is about as dangerous as a real combat ready halberd.

Noble Arm Rank:

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Ranged, Change/Unity/Soul, All

Noble Arm Abilities:

World Manipulation - The main ability of Subterfuge. This does offense, defense, and many things in between. In its core concept, Subterfuge can alter materials. It can strip one material of specific elements, reconstitute an object into a different form, or raise a pillar of rock and dirt into the sky. This works on almost everything, including living humans, albeit requiring a very increased amount of effort. What it does not work on is Noble Arms, anything too far away from Subterfuge, or not in some way connected to an object Subterfuge is touching. Interestingly, this ability works on Verdict as well. He frequently uses it to change his own appearance, making him incredibly hard to catch.

The better Verdict understands an object, what the goal is, and how to do it, the more efficient Subterfuge is at altering it. This can lead to extremely efficient construction of stone spikes that erupt from the ground, or a construction of a sword from something like a car. The second best way to weaken this ability is to catch Verdict off guard. If he expects one material, but is met with something else, he will use an excessive amount of energy to modify it. The best way to neutralize the ability is to prevent Verdict from knowing what he’s interacting with, or to prevent Subterfuge from touching anything. Typically, the maximum range of this ability is a dozen meters for simple interactions, such as creating a spike, shifting a material’s mass overall, or things like that. For complex interactions, such as separating materials from an alloy, it needs to be within a few meters.

As expected, the wider the scale of the task, the more energy is required to do it, and maintain it in some cases. World Manipulation can affect objects not directly being touched, but in contact with whatever is being touched by Subterfuge, though this does not apply to anything with a soul. Those with a soul require direct physical contact to be directly altered, though this doesn’t stop Verdict from driving a spike through someone.

Soul Capture - Subterfuge exhibits a trait that not many other Noble Arms have, the ability to directly interact with souls, an immaterial aspect. While many Noble Arms can only affect the physical, Subterfuge affects the incorporeal. If someone dies near Subterfuge, or by Verdict’s hand, Subterfuge can latch onto said soul, using it for energy to sustain itself. Effectively, by killing others, the cost of using abilities is offset from Verdict and instead put onto the energy it can harvest from a soul. Only human souls are compatible with this task, as only human souls are immortal, however a soul cannot be held forever, as they are pulled out of Subterfuge’s grasp. Any lesser soul is quickly crushed by this process and eradicated.

This allows Subterfuge to do several interesting things. The most notable is soul imprinting. Subterfuge, when in physical contact with a structure, can imprint the soul onto it. It will no longer be able to draw energy from that soul, but a mechanical object would bow to Verdict’s will, even if logically it cannot move. A tank with a broken turbine will function, and shoot at whatever Verdict desires. A locked door will unlock itself under its own will and open. Depending on the size of the structure, and the complexity of the mechanics, will determine how long the soul stays imprinted before vanishing from this world. A notable downfall of this is that computers cannot be imprinted onto, however mechanical constructs, like a servo, can be affected.

An interesting caveat of the imprinting process is that anything with a soul attached cannot be imprinted on, however a corpse could have a soul imprinted to it, and rise from being dead, effectively creating a zombie. Unlike a zombie, if the soul is imprinted, no form of damage to the head will stop it, the only way to stop it would be to physically disable it, say blowing off its joints, or wait for the soul to fade. However, as a corpse would have had a soul previously imprinted, it behaves erratically and cannot be directly controlled by Verdict, only given general suggestions on what to do which is ultimately followed. The same also applies to any mechanical structure with a soul attached to it in some form unless it was by Subterfuge before.

An important caveat of imprinting is that when the soul is pulled away from the world, the object typically reacts violently. Typically, the object will squirm and uncontrollably move as if it were alive, with claw marks appearing on surfaces of the object. In rare cases, the object itself twists and deforms, becoming an unrecognizable mass of material, though this is rare and only happens with smaller objects, like a small car or motorcycle. If a soul of an Arms Master is imprinted onto something, they do not gain the ability to use their Noble Arm, however they stay imprinted for longer than regular human souls. When Subterfuge is dispelled, or is otherwise forced into non-existence, any captured souls are immediately released.

The Half Prime - This ability allows Subterfuge to temporarily create an image of a humanoid body. Said image is physically present, and can affect the world, however is not very resistant to physical damage. Verdict can see and hear with the Half Prime as if it were his own body, though vision is slightly worsened, as if it were a visualization in one’s mind. By default, the Half Prime appears as an inky black void, though with effort it can change to resemble any human desired by Verdict, taking their voice too.

There is one special trait to the Half Prime, though. It can have a soul imprinted onto it. When a soul is imprinted onto the Half Prime, it gains incredible strength and speed, but the raw power it obtains begins tearing its body apart, the power being enough to cleave through a bulkhead without much trouble. By doing this, Verdict has almost all of his energy drained, but he retains perfect control of the Half Prime up until it is either destroyed or destroys itself. This generally ends up being a last ditch move, as it leaves Verdict vulnerable, but can assuredly destroy most things threatening him. When in this state, anyone killed by the Half Prime does not result in Soul Capture being activated.

If the majority of the Half Prime’s body is destroyed or damaged, it will fade on its own as it cannot exist forever. This applies to both states, but being imprinted accelerates this process by a significant margin. When imprinted, sometimes the Half Prime speaks on its own will, usually speaking the dreams or wishes of the soul which currently inhabits its body, or the dreams or wishes of someone it’s about to kill. Typically, The Half Prime can exist 200 meters away from Verdict at maximum.

Soul Perception - Subterfuge allows Verdict to peer into what he coins as “soulspace”. Soulspace is a realm outside the material, where Verdict can see the basic flow of life and energy. This is most obviously useful at alerting him to the presence of a living creature nearby if he should be alone, or tracking down a specific person. If Verdict’s energy and focus is directed, he can slowly pick out individual people, and get a very rough sense of where they are, at the cost of giving them the feeling that there is someone pursuing them. This ability to pick out individual people becomes useless in crowded areas, as it becomes impossible to spot individual souls.

The more time Verdict spends with specific people and becomes friends (or enemies) with them, he can sometimes have an easier time figuring out where they are if they’re somewhat nearby. Alternatively, if Verdict stays in melee range with another person for an extended period of time, Subterfuge can “mark” their soul, effectively allowing Verdict to know if they stray close to him, though only one person can be marked at a time. This works in the opposite way too, as whoever is marked will get the feeling Verdict is close as well. Said marks last for a few months, unless significant changes happen to the marked soul or it is otherwise resisted.

Those aware of what’s happening to them can counter Subterfuge’s effects, such as preventing Verdict from figuring out where they are, at the cost of alerting Verdict that they’re being resisted, which can be very important info. This ability also allows those that can interact with souls to telepathically talk with Verdict, though it can be resisted. Typically, Soul Perception has a range of 200 meters.

Misc Abilities: Verdict is extremely talented at material sciences, as a result of him wanting to better his ability to use Subterfuge. He is capable of understanding a vast majority of materials around him at most times, making him an extremely dangerous threat in any urban or wild environment. He also can use this knowledge to make items with Subterfuge that push the limits of known material science, for instance, an incredibly tough but lightweight shield. Verdict also knows plenty about psychology, mainly to twist people to his will. In his own words, the soul is just as important as the material.

Personality: Verdict, to put it bluntly, is a shit person. He cheats, lies, and steals for his own goals. To Verdict, nobody is close to being comparable to himself other than his master. Verdict often ignores the advice of others unless it regards something important, due to his self-envisioned superiority. There is basically zero good quality to him, and he will pursue his goals at any costs, though he knows how valuable of a resource other people can be. He’ll work with some other people, if he thinks he can use them somehow.

Fears: Death, harm to his master, his work being all for naught.

Bio: Verdict had a relatively okay upbringing, born to a fairly regular family. Not much happened during his childhood, that was until his Noble Arm formed. Most interestingly, it formed before anything serious happened. One minute, Verdict was walking to the grocery store, the next a halberd appeared in his hand freaking him out, then soon after someone who intended to rob Verdict rounded a corner. Predictably, they were freaked out by a kid with a halberd and ran off. The following few months was spent by Verdict researching Noble Arms whenever possible, trying to learn about his. Something he noted was that his family acted more distant towards him after they learned about his Noble Arm. No matter, he knew what a Noble Arm could do, it could change the world.

How could he change the world? He could assist with the extraction of gold or other rare metals... No, he’d get shit pay for that. Maybe if this were medieval times he’d be able to buy out even kings. He could use Subterfuge’s power of twisting and changing things to make gold, but no, he’d get in trouble for that. There are laws limiting Arms Masters. Fuck the laws, then. He’s powerful, he could change the world. Subterfuge would let him remake the world. That’s when his master reached out, an awful, probing spindly needle clawing its way into Verdict’s mind. It eventually grabbed hold of him, and that needle spoke to him.

The master described Verdict as soul-sensitive. Someone who could see, and even interact with the immaterial realm. Something very few, even among Arms Masters, could perceive. The master was one of those people, in fact that’s the only thing his Arm could do, interact with the realm of souls. His master spoke to him, helped him learn, told him so many things. Some were lies, but Verdict was deluded by promises of power. The master learned about Verdict’s past, used that to convince him to work for him. After all, who could stop Verdict?

It started with simple things. Simple robberies, very clean ones too. As a reward, the master told Verdict many things. Especially about the Big Three. Nothing that only he was privy to, but things he knew in general about them. His crimes only escalated from there, getting more and more brazen and out there. Soon, he was wanted by the authorities, but no one knew him as Solomon. They only knew him by his alias, Verdict. He could become anyone, plus with the assistance of his master, go anywhere.

That anywhere led him to the Philippines, where the current war was soon to kick off. No one knew he was there, if they did they wouldn’t know where he is or how he got there. In the years before he managed to get there, he had become powerful with Subterfuge. His crimes became quite substantial, gaining an international following. Verdict is a wanted man almost everywhere. Being in close proximity with other Arms Masters would be quite troublesome, but he can thread the needle. Verdict is powerful and cunning. Plus he can look good too, that’s bound to win him a few things, no matter how small.

Current Goal: Create the Divine Being, dominate those who would threaten him. Remake the world in his image, his vision of a perfect world.

Military or Civilian Rank: Criminal, labeled as a terrorist.

Especially tall and muscular, standing just a hair under six and a half feet tall. Her cap sports a badge with the Canis Major symbol of the Laelaps-unit. She also has elaborate tattoos of the Aztec gods Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc on her left and right shoulders, respectively.

Name: Marlena Dorn

Age: 22

Nationality: Austrian

Noble Arm Name & Appearance:


Noble Arm Rank:



Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee/Support, Storm, Close to Medium Range

Noble Arm Abilities:

Gray Skies: Marlena is able to passively manifest rain in her vicinity, approximately the size of a city block, when wielding Tlāloc's Tempest, up to a steady rainfall by default, and when focused up to a steady downpour with winds. The weather has all the effects normal rain would have on combatants (reduced visibility, less traction on items and surfaces, etc.). Marlena is herself immune to the detrimental effects of strong rain and winds, natural or generated, and can temporarily gift this ability to allies via physical contact for a few minutes.

Legion From the Torrent: Marlena's most notable ability is to create temporary clones of herself, emerging from her position as bodies made of water wielding a water-copy of her noble arm. She can manifest such copies at will or while moving, instilling them with a simple command (attack the enemy, defend me, protect this person) in the process. The clones are equivalent in strength to Marlena but temporary, only able to absorb a lethal attack or last fifteen seconds before dissolving into normal water. She is only able to manifest up to about five or six at a time with some effort; more are possible but at the risk of severely exhausting her. The clones also demanifest when moved beyond the distance of a city block.

Flash Flood: Marlena channels a torrent of water from a suitably sized source, powerful enough to knock enemies off their feet and tip over some vehicles. She has decent control over the shape and use of the water, but can't use fine manipulation on it. She requires a body of water or at least a suitable amount of water-based liquid to accomplish this, though her own water clones can be used for this purpose. She also can't pull water out of something that contains it like an animal or another human being.

Call Down the Thunder: With access to an unobstructed sky, Marlena summons a bolt of lightning that strikes her with the approximate force of a grenade, leaving her unharmed as she absorbs the electrical energy. The stored energy doubles her agility and reaction time, and will last for a few minutes before naturally dissipating, unless she discharges the lightning through an attack, with a strike powerful enough to launch a car across the street while discharging the lightning strike. She can theoretically call it down as much as she wants, but if she doesn't wait at least a few minutes before discharging she risks exhausting herself to maintain it or even unsummoning her own weapon. Notably, this strike can be channeled to dismiss an enemy's Noble Arm, but the effort would notably exhaust her. Marlena's water clones do not benefit from Call Down the Thunder's charge.

Fury of the Lord of Water: Marlena channels her powers for a moment or two to unleash her full power, enhancing Gray Skies to be able to produce storm force winds and rain equivalent to a Category 3 Hurricane with an area equivalent to a few buildings in width, as well as directly channeling lightning through herself and her weapons to direct at enemies, equivalent to normal lightning strikes in terms of damage and action. This ability can last up to fifteen minutes, and beyond that mark she risks exhausting her abilities or even losing consciousness. If cancelled earlier, she can still maintain use of her Noble Arm powers to a lesser degree until rested.

Misc Abilities:

Close Combat Expert: Exceptionally strong, and trained in a mixture of armed and unarmed combat. Especially skilled with the use of polearms, given her Noble Arm.

Scholar of Myth: Very well-read, especially with mythological and archeological studies. Fluent in German, English, Spanish, and Nahuatl.

Deaf: Born with congenital hearing loss and tends to have difficulty speaking, though she's very good at reading lips and can communicate with sign language.

Wealthy: She may not flaunt it, but Marlena has a sizeable multi-million dollar fortune to her name, thanks to what can be politely described as family drama.

Personality:
Marlena embodies the cliché of a gentle giant almost to a fault. Cool and collected in nearly every situation, she always has a smile on her face when times get tough and rarely gets rattled by unwanted surprises or situations. Sometimes she's a bit of a klutz, sometimes she gets lost in a fascinating book or her own thoughts, but she's always guaranteed to have your back, whether you want her to or not.

Her easygoing nature nevertheless hides a bundle of nerves and anxieties, driven by a determination to do better then the rotten stock that she came from. Easygoing as she is, she won't stand by what she thinks is wrong, and if the gloves come off and you push her just a bit too far, you might even get her angry.

That is a storm you'd be lucky to survive.

*Likes: Lazy rainy days, reading, lifting, seeing new places, food, Mesoamerican mythology (I know, so hard to tell right?)

*Dislikes: Driving, condescending dicks who talk to her like a five year old when they find out she's deaf, cherries, shoelaces, Guns, Germs, and Steel

Fears: Her family, agoraphobia.

Bio: Marlena Dorn was an accident. That's what her father would say if you asked him, anyway.

Born in Graz, Austria, the youngest daughter of successful construction mogul Lucas Dorn, Marlena appeared to live the life of a spoiled upper class girl, complete with an expensive education and standard of living. In truth though she was often neglected and emotionally isolated; born with congenital hearing loss, her father often dismissed her as 'inferior stock', an opinion which was sadly all too common among her family, and as a result she found herself in the company of books and stories of fantastic far off cultures to get away from her dismal home life, her bullying brothers, and most especially her sadistic grandfather, Reiner Dorn.

Reiner had been a young teen on track to join the SS before the Second World War ended when he manifested one of the first known Noble Arms in history. Naming it the Staff of Freyr, he participated in guerilla style brawls with the then victorious Allies before joining up with Die Spinne to help fellow Nazis escape justice. Becoming a close associate of Otto Skorzeny, Reiner would later found the paramilitary fascist organization Gespenst, working to spread its influence in political and financial circles while supporting far right causes throughout the world. While publicly the Dorn family has strongly condemned the actions of Reiner, in truth the entire family served as agents of Gespenst, spreading their influence via the family's political and business connections.

With a mighty Noble Arm in hand, Reiner Dorn saw his weapon as proof of his superiority, a living testament to his dominance over the subhuman. And it needled him to know end that the sniveling weasel he called a son could never get one of his own. Determined not to make the same "mistake" again, Reiner founded his own Spartan Training Program and put his loyal grandsons through brutal, often abusive training to try and summon one, if only to prove that Noble Arms were the purview of the master race. Anger grew with each and every failure, and soon that anger fell on the family's neglected and ignored granddaughter.

Marlena was never quite sure why it happened. Maybe her oldest brother thought she was a taint on the family bloodline stopping them from getting a Noble Arm. Maybe he was just taking out his anger on her and finally went to far. Or maybe he just snapped. Either way, it ended with her brother's hands clenched tightly around her throat, trying to strangle her, and in what could only be ascribed to the universal law of karma, her powers manifested, a violent rainstorm bursting from her and bringing down the Dorn family mansion on their heads. As the police came to investigate, they would find only one survivor of the freak storm; Marlena Dorn, soaked to the bone and clutching a strange polearm, its blade plunged through the chest of the brother who tried to kill her. Quickly removed from the scene, an officer recognizing the Noble Arm brought Marlena to the attention of the government and she was transferred to the agency Wachturm, a post-cold war agency in Central Europe that managed and protected Noble Arms users in the region.

Against all odds, Marlena's life seemed to turn around. Under the protection and care of her handler Agent Daria Gaster, a much kinder parental figure then she'd ever had before, Marlena was able to move past her traumas, growing into a better person while learning the ins and outs of controlling her new Noble Arm, which she gave a mesoamerican name to distance herself from the similar weapon her Grandfather wielded. More surprises came when the Austrian government finally finished untangling the web of influence that Marlena's father had built, a web that came crashing down with his mansion and brought Gespenst with it. With much of her family presumed dead or missing and their assets left in the open, Lucas Dorn's remaining millions would go to his closest living relative with an untarnished record, the daughter he considered inferior.

Coming back from the brink and living her best life, Marlena's confidence and ability led her to be a favorite for transfer to a new task force, the Laelaps Unit, where she would get the chance to bring the fight directly to her family's old allies, whom had been folded into the Dark Descent when Gespenst fell apart. En route to assist the ASEAN forces in their struggle against invasion, Marlena is not ready to face the oncoming storm.

She is the oncoming storm.

*Current Goal: Bring the fight to the Downward Descent, disappoint her shitty Nazi family a little more, and maybe make some friends along the way.

Military or Civilian Rank:
Seargent

Power: A
Speed: C (S)
Range: F (S)
Persistence: C
Precision: B
Potential: D

Power: (A) D
Speed: B
Range: B
Persistence: C
Precision: C
Potential: D

Name: Indra Larsdottir

Age: 21

Nationality: Swedish

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Dís, an ornate and impractically designed winged spear, twice her height in length. Indra has described it as “anime.” (Pictured in Appearance)

Noble Arm Rank:



Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Ranged, Pop Norse Mythology, Long-range



Misc Abilities:
Indra has a strong, if debatably “good,” sense of fashion. Humor too.
Having been slated to become an officer for almost five years now, Indra is starting to learn how to order soldiers around without resorting to magic. She can also shoot a gun straight.
Indra can smooth-talk. Or talk-and-talk. Indra’s a talker.
Only in Swedish, Icelandic, and English though. And she’s nearly fluent in German, Russian (especially the swearing), and Italian. She… knows a few languages. It’s a hobby. Looks like Tagalog is next.
Indra could teach almost anyone a thing or two about petty theft. She returns what she takes, it’s just a game.

Personality:
Yes.
Indra dresses tough, but doesn’t mean anything by it: she just loves the look. She loves strongly and broadly. She pets strangers’ dogs. She hugs her friends tightly without asking. At parties, she excuses herself to see whoever’s alone and ask if they’re okay.
She may drop bits of sarcasm or dark humor for the right audience, but never rudely.
It’s the same in war. She may kill. But never rudely.

Likes:
Food, friends, f… umm… anime. Older is better, usually. Oh, music. Lots of music. Sabaton? Yellow Card? Jackson Five? Terraria OST? Try all at once. Animals, flowers, lollipops, pretty much all people. Looking good, feeling good, doing good.

Dislikes:
…what she has to do.

Fears:
Jumping and flying bugs. Losing touch with herself.

Bio:
Indra was happy with her normal life. High school was going brilliantly. Grades were good, social circle was great, family was proud of her. She was well on her way to a job in, well, it could’ve been anything. Anything she’d put her mind to. Maybe.
Today, she could be fresh out of college, interviewing for that “anything” she was so looking forward to doing. Maybe she’d already be at work. Maybe she’d have proven herself by now and been respected in her field… though that’s a stretch. She’d at least be friends with the manager.
But then there’s what the Norns had in mind for her. What she really is.
Dís’s arrival was almost five years ago – it felt like it should’ve been embarrassing. It was the end of her junior year, the end of finals week, the end of a good movie at the end of a good movie night. She just kind of pumped her fist and… and then there was a spear there. And she'd grown wings. And that was the end of her life.
Or it felt like it was. For a while. She might have been cut out for a lot of things, but “national symbol” wasn’t one of them. Neither was… the military… like, at all. But she made do.
Or she’s making do.
Or – okay – she’ll make do.
…hopefully…

Current Goal: Make do?
Military or Civilian Rank: 2nd Lieutenant

Name: Sister Marta Rocha

Age: 17

Nationality: Portugal





Misc Abilities:

Oath to Order: As a (Self-Titled) Sister in service to the Lord, Marta has collected not only a fairly solid understanding of theology but a set of abilities suited to humanitarian aid. She's not exactly a UN paramedic, but she can provide first aid, forage for food, aid in disaster relief, and other emergency functions.

I *am* a Holy Woman, I *Will* Beat You Senseless: Marta is trying hard to get the hang of the whole "Turning the other cheek" affair, but at the end of the day, a mean left hook is a mean left hook. Years of Boxing classes don't vanish into thin air, and well, sometimes, the people with guns won't take "no" for an answer.

Praise Him with loud cymbals; Praise Him with resounding cymbals: Marta got into drums as part of her music classes in school and has since acquired a taste for percussion. She never quite hit the professional scene before taking her vows, but in these violent days, it serves as a more peaceful hobby than punching sandbags to ruin.

Personality:

Likes: Charity, Playing Music, Action Figures, Storms, Clocks

Dislikes: Deliberate Cruelty, Hot Temperatures (Humid or Otherwise), Religious Dogmatism, Amusement Parks

Fears: Losing control of her power, becoming close-minded as she ages, tight spaces

Bio:

Born and raised in Lisbon, the daughter of the Rocha Family had a solidly middle-class upbringing in a family of clerks and accountants. She spent much of her time running to and fro school, much less interested in formal education than her personal interests. A Latchkey kid with a heterodox approach to life, she spent much more time with a gaggle of fellows, pursuing many interests but with few sticking.

Her first passion was percussion, which she took up after a few music classes at school. The intensity of the rhythm and vibration pleased her on a profound level - it reminded her of the ticking of clockwork and the crashing booms of thunder. As her love of music developed, so did her attunement to the spiritual and abstract facets of nature. Repulsed by the dry nature of the family's work and burning desire to contribute something to the world, she moved to a religious institute but bounced off hard from the rigid hierarchies expected of her.

She's very quiet and private about this period of her life, but what is known is that she emerged sometime later as a self-avowed nun of no denomination, wielding the Hands of Might and Mercy. She's been on a veritable crusade against humanitarian crises, famines, natural disasters, civil wars, and refugee crises. Her Arms have healed victims of terrorism from certain death, blown paths through debris in the aftermath of earthquakes, and pulled truckloads of resources for isolated communities.

Current Goal:

The current conflict in SEA with China is extremely dangerous and has already extracted more than its toll in human life and misery. Even if she didn't have Noble Arms, she couldn't allow herself to stand by and do nothing... so she's decided to stick her nose into the ongoing affairs. She'd rather not hurt people if she can avoid it, but she's more than determined to do all she can to bring the war to an end.

Military or Civilian Rank: Sister (Self-Proclaimed)

Name: Jason Valenovich Etalin (Джейсон валенович эталин)
Age: 24
Appearance: 6’1”, 190 lbs and perpetually youthful. His black hair matches the permanent dark circles under his eyes. Wears a red plague doctor mask on field assignments to hide his facial expressions and make it harder to trace his identity, since both could potentially be used against him in accordance with his ongoing personality disorder.
Nationality: Russian

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Razlyubit, a black wedding band that Jason typically manifests on his index finger.

Noble Arm Rank: A

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: A versatile Noble Arm whose main abilities necessitate close range and thus a Melee fighting style. Based on Blood, Life, Emotions, and Promises.

Noble Arm Abilities:

Superhuman - Jason possesses a heavily augmented physiology. He is mostly ageless, having stopped and even partially "undone" senescence, and possesses physical speed and strength beyond that of an olympian athlete. His top running speed is approximately 30 mph and he can deadlift a few thousand pounds without too much effort. Could lift several thousand pounds overhead with exertion.

• Thick Skin - Jason’s skin and flesh are relatively sturdy, able to stop most bullets and mundane weapons from causing deep wounds and/or heavy damage. Noble Arms with mostly mundane properties will similarly struggle to do significant damage.
• Pain Immunity - Jason feels absolutely no pain, able to sense the sensation and where it comes from, but not feeling it as pleasant nor unpleasant.
• Regeneration - The ability with the greatest power among Jason’s abilities, Jason’s healing factor is fast-acting and very difficult to counter even without his Thick Skin protecting him. It renders him immune to most forms of toxins and illnesses, including radiation and, surprisingly, cancer. He is capable of surviving otherwise fatal wounds to the heart and brain, as well as extreme loss of body mass via dismemberment. He can replenish his blood rapidly and regrow limbs and organs as if from nothing, though extended use of this ability without caloric intake will cause its effects to gradually slow down. That being said, even starving, his regeneration will never completely stop unless he is dead, and no wound or injury is permanent. It is capable of pushing bullets and other foreign objects out of the body, and could theoretically be directed to grow out Jason’s hair or nails on command. (It doesn’t by default as a sort of customizable parameter) With enough recovery time, (~6 hours under ideal circumstances) Jason could theoretically survive a beheading, his Noble Arms repositioning to the greatest remaining chunk of his body and working on autopilot as long as it has enough of a physical basis for his soul to cling to. Destruction of his body and severe damage to the disembodied head or vice versa would likely finish him off for good. The same goes for full-body burns to the fourth degree or being atomized, and tossing his body into a freezer after severe damage would slow the healing process enough that he’d never realistically become a problem again, assuming the damage is extensive enough and the freezer cold and reliable enough.

Hemokinesis - Jason can exert weak telekinetic force over blood in a short range. Despite being his longest-range ability, his blood control is limited to several dozen meters, and he can only move the blood around with speed and force if it’s within about ten meters. He is incapable of generating blood ex nihilo nor exerting significant force on blood in a foreign body without near touch range and concentration. He is incapable of shaping blood with particular precision, and without his other abilities, his ability to throw blood around is largely harmless. His ability to move around objects that are covered in blood is slightly more dangerous, but loses effectiveness at greater ranges.

• Universality - Jason can modify blood for compatibility and adaptability as well as clean and rejuvenate it, functioning much like a dialysis machine as well as a blood oxygenator. This makes Jason and any blood he gains control over viable for universal donation, even without knowledge of who the recipient is.
• Viral Blood - Jason’s blood, without modification, (as well as foreign blood modified to match) hosts a functionally autonomous supernatural virus that, upon entering into a foreign body, will quickly begin to accelerate their heart rate. Major symptoms begin to manifest approximately one minute after blood to skin contact, and can manifest in seconds if he gets blood into the mouth or mucus membranes. Secondary infection via body fluids (e.g. the sweat of the infected) can manifest after five to ten minutes through skin contact. By default, infection will inhibit the victim’s emotions and conscious thought processes, putting them into a dazed trance that puts greater emphasis on their baser instincts. (The infected seldom make use of their Noble Arms) The infection causes hallucinations and a chronic craving for raw meat, though, notably, the infected do not react aggressively towards each other. Left unchecked, the virus can spread into a typical zombie hoard. Jason has no fine control over the zombies, nor the virus, though the infected ignore him by default considering the virus is already in his blood. With concentration, Jason can cause those nearby to be excluded by the zombies, albeit only while they remain within a few dozen meters of him, and he requires line of sight to establish the exclusion. Infection typically lasts three days, petering out right as severe dehydration begins to set in, though it can last longer if Jason is able to manually refresh the virus through further exposure. The virus has no mundane cure, and its dynamic nature means one cannot realistically be developed, but it can nonetheless be countered by specialized Noble Arm abilities.
  
  • Emotion Control - By modifying the virus, Jason can alter its symptoms. The only unifying symptom is the initially accelerated heart rate. While the zombie virus iteration is generally the best for incapacitation and infectivity, he can instead make the virus induce:
    
    • Crippling fear, an effect compounded by hallucinations. This version robs the victim of the ability to distinguish friend from foe, and makes the victim a danger to themselves and others. This version often induces fight or flight reactions and involuntary crying. Infection from this version is largely limited to bodily fluids and their inability to distinguish friend from foe means that they are liable to attack Jason as well.
    • Crippling loneliness, accompanied by pervasive paranoia. Victims will typically exhibit uncharacteristically clingy behaviors, getting touchy with if not directly latching onto the nearest uninfected (not including Jason) in an attempt to soothe their symptoms. In the absence thereof, their symptoms gradually get worse, causing them to suffer panic attacks, mild hallucinations, and potentially cardiac arrest. Often more infectious than even the zombie virus, though it does not immediately incapacitate an enemy. Through concentration, Jason can make the infected identify him as uninfected. If left alone long enough, their symptoms will gradually become bad enough to mistake Jason for an ally, though Jason personally hates dealing with victims afterwards, since pushing them away can snap them out of it.
    • Crippling apathy, often in the form of catatonia. Victims will generally give up on whatever they were doing immediately, and may struggle to respond to basic questions or even stand under their own power.
    • Seething anger, an all-consuming need for immediate violence against anything and everything within reach. While infected, victims become rash and beyond reasoning. Although the victim is still able to prioritize the direction of their anger, their ability to do so deteriorates as time goes on, and even the smallest non-justifications become worth spilling blood over while in this state. Tends to burn out quicker than the other variants, lasting only one or two days, though it also tends to have a greater toll on the body.
• Panacea - Jason is capable of modifying his blood into a cure for the virus as well as certain minor illnesses such as colds or hangovers. It can maintain its potency away from him for much the same duration ordinary blood would - eight hours at room temperature, a week in cold storage.

Knife Manifestation - Jason can materialize mundane knives made of Iron, to his specifications, albeit they must conform to his conception of what a knife is. He is only capable of materializing them stabbed somewhere into his back.

Miscellaneous Abilities: In addition to his extensive medical knowledge and largely abandoned capabilities as an OPL practitioner, Jason is an excellent cook, a force to be reckoned with at Darts and Billiards, and fancies himself a master tactician based solely on his prowess in games of online chess.

Personality: Silent, serious, pragmatic, and almost robotic in nature. He obeys orders, keeps to himself, and at times seems as if he has the patience of a saint. He's unflappably stoic, calm and detached, except sometimes he can't seem to help but break character, as if without thinking. An illogically friendly gesture, a snarky comeback that accomplishes nothing. It's there one moment and gone the next, and he'll either pretend it didn't happen or apologize for it and expect everyone to move on. He wears no facades, yet his control over himself isn't always the best, and he seldom understands the way he acts at those times himself.

Strong emotional stimulus tends to cause his higher thought processes to stall until he calms down, entering a state of fight or flight, without the flight, acting like a cornered animal regardless of whether he's trapped or not. If left alone, he'll likely snap out of it soon enough, though his ability to accurately gauge threats becomes exceptionally poor while in this state.

His personality disorders are theorized to be due to conflicts between his OPL code and Noble Arm functionality, possibly each defining different ideal states for his regeneration to leave his brain chemistry in. Since the two have apparently become part of the same whole, the accuracy of this theory is debatable.

Likes: Peace and quiet
Dislikes: Lies, cigarettes
Fears: That there is no solution. No cure, no way of coping, this is his life now.

Bio: When Jason was born, it was unto a single mother who, for all her life, never once fully understood Jason, right up until her death four years ago. Jason, in turn, never fully understood all her quirks and logically inconsistent behaviors, just as he seldom understood those of seemingly everyone else. Lying is wrong, except when it isn’t. Duress justifies anything, except when it doesn’t. Killing animals is wrong, except when you eat them, and even then, arbitrary lines in the sand are drawn about which animals and why. Jason was surrounded on all sides by rules upon rules that seem to bend and twist based on convenience, culture, or irrational cowardice. If his absentee mother, overworked and underpaid, ever noticed the ways in which he was different from other kids, she never made mention of it, much less did anything to address it.

Jason, growing up, had always been an intelligent child. Even without the support of his mother, once he found out that skipping a grade was less about personal capability and more about learning the next year’s lessons in advance, he began climbing an extra grade every other year through nothing but personal study, give or take adjustments to new schools. His only regret lay in how long it took him to realize that, but he still managed to graduate at the young age of 15 wherein he immediately began his college studies majoring in Biology. He slowed down a bit compared to his previous schooling in an attempt to learn Occult Programming Language at the same time through illegal channels. Both seemed necessary for his long-term goals.

There at college, he went on to meet the woman who would later become his wife, Lena. His relationship with Lena was like his relationship with any other person who decided to insert themselves into his life: complicated. She cared for him, for some inane reason he could never fathom and she could never explain, in ways not even his mother had, and yet, she was wrapped in all the frustrations that seemed to follow that mother and everyone else. It was not all pleasant for either of them - they almost broke up when Lena found out that Jason was younger than her, for despite being larger than her since the day that they met, he was still only 17 then, a fact he did not feel pertinent to mention the night they decided to get intimate. Perhaps it was his reaction to her confrontation that made it an issue rather than the act itself - after all, why would he mention it? She never asked, and there would never be any benefit to turning her over to the police. For some reason, such reassurances only seemed to make her angry, even though it was one of his most blatant declarations of affection; an admission that nothing would be worth losing her. If she couldn’t understand him, then it wasn’t his fault… right?

After graduation, Jason was scouted for Government Occult Research and Development thanks to his, at the time, frankly pitiful grasp of OPL and useful degree in Biology. For the first few years, he did nothing but learn from them, which, top-secret facilities aside, made it not particularly unlike his regular schooling, which he pursued in parallel. It was there at medical school that he met up with Lena again. They ignored each other at first, but seeing each other day in and day out, they eventually had to acknowledge each others’ presence again and it… wasn’t awful. They gradually fell back into familiar patterns. When Lena had trouble with something, she’d come to Jason, and when Jason had to miss a class, he went to Lena. Eventually they made up one afternoon, mending their relationship through a series of back-and-forth blunt admissions that only spurred on more and more of them. Just like that, they were a couple again.

On his 22nd birthday, Lena took him out for drinks after hearing him mention that he's never had alcohol before. After not 'getting it' after the first two glasses and Lena suggesting that he try drinking more, Jason ended up drunk off his ass and offhandedly proposed to her. She didn’t take it seriously, but after coming back to his senses, Jason didn’t forget, and he did take it seriously, at least after the fact. No matter what, he never wanted to lie to her, to confuse the one person who knew what kind of person he was and accepted him anyway. Thus, only days afterward, he presented her with a modest engagement ring, and she answered his question with a yes.

The wedding itself was a small, intimate affair. His mother had died the year before, and the only person on his side of the family to attend had been his aunt, a woman he had barely interacted with up until that point. She was friendly enough, he supposed. Lena’s family on the other hand, were a whirlwind he could never fully grasp, from her brother’s strange threats to her mother’s suspicious flirting. When he brought it up with Lena, she would just laugh it off, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do when your family makes death threats to and tries to seduce your husband.

It didn’t really matter in the end. Lena became his, and they were both better off for it. She even got him to admit it, out loud. He never did use the L word. He refused to willingly lie to her, even if he had no way of knowing if it was a lie. He had to be sure, even if he never thought he would be.

They both graduated from medical school around the same time Jason graduated from his position as an intern in OPL R&D. By then, Jason was 23, and he soon began to work on occult bioaugmentation research proper, funded by the Russian military. Lena had always pursued her career as a doctor out of her desire to save lives, but Jason never had the same inexplicable passion about philanthropy that she did.

From the start, Jason had pursued such a career path because of his fascination with the rules underlying life, death, and reality itself. From many angles, it seemed orderly, but once you peeled away the skin and dug deep into the flesh and viscera, you could catch a glimpse of the roiling chaos below. Occult Programming Language was much the same, operating on specific, predictable rules, yet the irreconcilable deficiencies compared to Noble Arms and glaring flaws that led to the latter’s existence in the first place begs the question of how much any of it could be trusted. The Noble Arms themselves were the worst of all, each individually finding new, unique ways of spitting in the face of comprehension just for the sake of doing so. Through Noble Arms, death could become a triviality, and thus the basis underpinning so many rules of society would crumble to dust with the wave of a hand.

Don’t even get him started on the concept of love. He’s pretty sure that bullshit’s somewhere in the OPL code too.

In order to get more answers, above all, what Jason needed was time. Time that he didn’t have. Time that no one he knew of had. He needed immortality, or at least some functional approximation of it. It wasn't for some grand ideal like advancing human progress, but rather for simple and selfish reasons. Life is short, and nothing short of government funding with minimal ethical oversight would suffice for the progress he needed. Now that all the distractions and obstructions were finally out of the way, he doggedly pursued a proverbial elixir of life, because every year he spent approaching entropy was a year he may never get back. Lena wasn’t pleased with her husband growing more and more distant with her, but Jason knew that her youth if not her life was on the line too.

With all of his drive and intelligence fully leveraged, he thought it could take him his whole life to barely complete something usable. Instead, barely a year after he started working under the government, he had a working prototype of OPL code that could render lab rats mostly immortal, capable of regenerating towards an idealized form regardless of whether it had the physical means to do so or not. Not wanting to waste a second more, he broke protocol, lying about the code in order to get the necessary collective use of OPL running. It was supposedly just another experiment, but the caged rat they brought along was never the designated target.

Just as he began to feel the OPL influence his body, his magnum opus made manifest, his life’s work coming to fruition, Jason began to form a Noble Arm that blended and mixed with his hitherto human-untested code. A simple black wedding band had appeared over his ring finger, next to his actual wedding band, and from then on, Jason was never the same.

He remembers having a splitting headache thereafter, like two sets of instructions were competing over which way to rewrite his brain. He felt things he had never felt before; anger, fear, and a bizarrely painful fluttering in his heart that reminded him of Lena. He was delirious, barely cognizant, and so it took him until he was shown a video feed of the test chamber to realize he had killed all the other OPL practitioners there using nothing but his bare hands.

Afterward, he had stumbled towards his lab space, destroying all traces of his utter failure, desperately hoping that ridding the world of the source would make the pounding in his head stop. His coworkers were alarmed, but he fought them off, leaving trails on the walls as he steadied himself on them by his bloodied hands.

He… he needed to see her, to know if what he was feeling was what he had been trying so desperately to understand. He drove like a madman, getting tailed by the police almost immediately, but he ignored them, going straight home and bursting through the doors, only to find Lena in bed with another man.

After that, all he can remember is seeing red and feeling no pain.

His body count that day had nearly reached the triple digits before he was apprehended by a Noble Arms user. He was tied up and sedated, more animal than man at that point, and taken in for containment and confinement by the Russian government.

When he next woke up, he didn’t feel quite the same, like a mixture of the new and old. He could feel the sensation of his head aching, but not the ache itself, and his memories felt fuzzy and unclear. He was restrained, and, upon waking, quickly taken around to interrogation. Not comprehending his current situation, he stuck by his policy of honesty, though his inability to remember crucial details frustrated his interrogators. It didn’t particularly bother him, since he couldn’t feel the torture in the slightest. It was kind of funny seeing some of their tools fail to break his skin. They wanted him to surrender the OPL code he had destroyed, but he couldn’t remember most of it. They wanted him to explain how the code worked, but he only remembered the broad strokes. They discussed the events that led up to his arrest, from his psychotic break at the research facility to his mad drive home and the eventual murder of his wife, Lena. Lena… Lena, Lena, Lena…

His breathing quickened, and the words the interrogators spoke didn’t mean anything to him anymore. He could feel the sensation of a headache, and very pointedly noticed the way it kept him from thinking clearly. He decided to wait it out, until someone - an enemy, tried to zap him again for insubordination. He lunged forward within his restraints, biting the man, and there was just so much blood. It spilled out, floating around him in circles like a protective blanket. That’s right, he had a Noble Arms now, right? He should…

…He couldn’t finish that thought. It was like being underwater, hearing but deaf, even to his own thoughts. The interrogators left, and he just sat there within his restraints and breathed, in and out, as the imaginary pain in his head gradually faded away.

Why was he circling blood around himself exactly?

He tried using the blood to get out of his restraints, but he didn’t have very good fine control over it, just feeling like he was making a mess. It was rather annoying, so when a Noble Arms user entered the room, he greeted them amiably. They demanded he put down the blood, so he asked them where he should put it, since it was likely to leave stains. When they just told him to drop it again, he somehow found himself inexplicably understanding, apologizing to them out of politeness and complying.

It took the Russian Government a while to determine the extent of his abilities and the quirks of his condition. His powers seemed to remain on permanently, even while asleep. When Razlyubit is pried off his unconscious fingers, it simply returns there as if nothing happened. They had always known about his sociopathy, but he was showing signs to the contrary now, and strong emotions seemed to cause his higher thought processes to stall until he calmed down, becoming a creature of nothing but instincts and aggressive self-defense measures. It was, in his opinion, dreadful, and he’s come to hate the new emotions he’s been saddled with. The new humanity he’s forced to feel. The OPL code that started this whole mess, the idea of such a cursed form of immortality. Even after his memories came back, only lost in the first place because of a bullet wound to the brain apparently, he feigned ignorance on the matter, refusing to let anyone else suffer through his own personal hell. It was cold comfort, since, from the start, he’s the only one he knows to have ever been outside of that hell. The human condition was maddening, but at least the few others like him would be safe from it.

Even after discovery, or rather, development, of his Viral Blood ability, and despite his usefulness as a willing soldier deployed against Ukraine, (After all, it's not like he could go back to his old life) Jason remained a problem child; a thorn in Russia’s side. What good was a soldier that would just go unresponsive for minutes at a time in the heat of battle? What good was his zombie virus when it was so easy to end up with friendly fire? Although he was a known quantity and proved himself a loyal soldier, rising up the ranks in spite of his shortcomings, he was eventually traded off with China, since they claimed they could make better use of him. There, he was assigned Ai Chen as his handler. She would tell him where to go and what to do, and in turn when her hands wandered down his chest he would simply remind her of his chronic inability to respond to compromising situations appropriately. Didn’t stop her from trying, and the resulting fight earned her a reprimand from Ren Huo, so despite taking one of her plasma arrows to the gut and gaining a temporary hole in his stomach, it took her longer to recover from the punch he gave her to the same spot, and in the end their working relationship ended up pretty cordial.

Current Goal: Find or develop a cure or improvement to his current condition, with the development of his Noble Arm being viewed as the most promising avenue.

Military Rank: Lieutenant General

Power: C
Speed: A
Range: C
Persistence: C
Precision: C
Potential: C

Power: C
Speed: A
Range: C
Persistence: B
Precision: E
Potential: C

A mature woman with long, curly blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a fashionable taste in clothing. Height-5'2" weight-115lbs

Name: Mira Logan

Age: 24

Nationality: Australian

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Durandal (The Enduring), Serrated Sickle

Noble Arm Rank:


Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee, Lightning/electricity, Close range.
Noble Arm Abilities:
Smite: Imbues Durandal with electricity, which releases upon contact with any surface. Can be dodged.
Thundercrack: Creates a loud crack when a dangerous entity is within striking distance. Earmuffs will weaken the noise.

Misc Abilities: None

Personality:

Likes: Technology, Personal appearance.

Dislikes: Water, Repeating herself.

Fears: The Ocean, Spiders.

Bio: A kindhearted woman with a knack for technology and swordplay, Mira is a complex individual and first impressions vary depending on personal preference.

Military or Civilian Rank: Civilian.