— Her color is Persimmon —Name: Pascale Isidora Buckley
Alias: Cally or Boots [And Whatever You Guys Can Come Up With]
Race: Fauna (Feline)
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Weapons/Equipment/Armor: — Lock —
— High-Velocity Minigun Rapier (HVMR) —An average looking rapier used for any weapon's intended purpose, edged in completely white steel with an intricate guard that envelops Pascale's whole hand. The rapier by itself is, when used by a skilled swordsman, a dangerously agile weapon. However, like most Beacon students, Pascale has incorporated a second function that makes the weapon quite the deadly force. When activated, the hand-guard shoots up Pascale's arm to cover its entirety in ivory layers, trimmed in vines of black that scatter up to the shoulder where the guard shoots up at an angle, as if magazine clips were embedded within, spouting steam from the layered armor to cue that the weapon is fully activated (all done within seconds). The purpose of the layer of tough armor is to protect Pascale's arm from the vicious recoil of the weapon when fired. It fires off like a mini gun, creating a mid to long range weapon by emitting bullets from within the rapier, hollowed out and reinforced to keep its melee ability strong. The bullets are extremely small, but are still as lethal, especially when fired in large bursts in a window of a second. Sluggish at the start, when it goes uninterrupted, Lock is, though extremely inaccurate, fires so fast it doesn't matter how terrible its aim is. Despite the small bullets and inaccuracy, Lock can cut through most objects through sheer force and number and it can be very difficult to direct, but concentrated fire can still be extremely deadly. In melee range, the speed of its attacks is nearly unmatched and can fire off rounds individually to accelerate the weapon at amazing speeds. Matched with Shock and Barrel, it effectively makes Pascale an extremely agile and decisive opponent. It relies purely on speed and force to bring opponents to their knees, sacrificing aim and accuracy for sheer spray and pray type firing. In melee range, its cuts and stabs may seem insignificant, but it makes up for it with its unmatched speed. A thousand pin-pricks in exchange for a few hard swipes is enough to bring even the toughest brute down. To Pascale, the bigger and slower, the better.
— Shock and Barrel —
— Dust Enhanced Boot Gun (DEBG) and Tactical Shotgun Boot (TSB) —High heeled, ordinary looking boots strapped tightly onto Pascale's legs and feet, edged in armor to protect Pascale's feet and legs when attacking. The heels of the soles are color coated, Shock being a dusty red and Barrel being a lighter vermilion, to keep Pascale from loosing track of which was which, at first, but is now more of a fashion sense. In further explanation, Shock, located on her left foot, contains multiple chambers on the thigh portion of the boot in which she can inject a multitude of dust, which she can switch to certain chambers by activating a switch/button on the tip of her boot. There's no way in which she can truly know what the effect is unless she memorizes the order she placed the containers in. The dust fires out effects through the bottom of her boot, emitting a shot through the heel. Shots can be fired without firing off the dust, though this is harmless and used to propel Pascale or accelerate kicks. Pascale can adjust the force of the shots her boots fire to increase the height of her jumps, etc.
Barrel, on the other hand is simply a tactical shotgun that can fire rounds off in quick bursts of three. The boot itself has chambers much like its counterpart, but visibly contains shotgun rounds instead of dust chambers. It works in the same effect as Shock, but is more of a mid-range weapon and is less versatile and flexible, but makes up for it by packing an incredibly powerful punch. It can also fire off on its own, without emitting a round to provide accelerated, powerful kicks or propel Pascale. Barrel also contains the holster for Lock, when the rapier becomes compact, that fires upward for Pascale to grab and use when enough pressure is applied to the boot, though there is a safety switch that she must first deactivate to use, so that it is not randomly fired off.
Semblance: — Savoir-Faire —A orangish hue, resembling a bright persimmon color, Pascale's aura is very out there and tends to be more than vibrant and visible to the naked eye. Pascale is rather skilled at confusing and tricking her foes in a number of ways, though it's very obvious to outside forces due to the bright orange enveloping a victim's head. To make use of this, Pascale must be within melee range of her foe and, through whatever fashion, transfers part of her aura to harm her foe. It effects the person in a number of ways, dictated by Pascale, but lasts, depending on how much stamina Pascale has, a few seconds to a few minutes. The effects range from temporary blindness, deafness, extreme confusion and bewilderment, to hypnosis (should the target be extremely lacking in willpower), and minor hallucinations. Once a person is affected once, it is generally difficult to initiate this effect a second time, unless the person is extremely weak minded. The mind usually adapts quickly, decreasing the effect should it knock through a target's mental defense a second time.
Hobbies: Pick-pocketing and Pranking
Bio: Born to faunus parents who were persecuted for crimes in which they did not commit, and sentenced to life in prison, Pascale was immediately thrust into a rundown foster home in which races were mixed simply for convenience. Technically an orphan, she has been through a multitude of situations that should normally break a person, but has effectively made her a strong individual with a knack for mischief. From the age of two to about ten, Pascale has found, immediately, that the faunus were considered an inferior and mistrusted race. She, like many of her brethren, have been subject to unwarranted abuse simply for the fact that she was different, though that is no longer new to her and Pascale tends to take whatever insults thrown at her with a grain of salt.
At the age of ten, she was forced through families that have done nothing but used her as a punching bag for their personal frustration, a kind of Cinderella story, if you will, but through multiple families of "evil stepmothers". But, Pascale's dream was never to attend a gala or ball and meet prince charming, in fact, she couldn't care less about romance. Like many others, her dreams were to help protect the people in danger, even her abusers, from the monsters that try to claw their way into the lives of every being. Of course, being a faunus, it is generally difficult to become anything more than a scullery maid, if people can help it, so that dream was a very distant goal, but not entirely impossible. She found a way to bring herself closer, through a family that adopted her the moment she turned fourteen and, that subsequent night, was caught stealing various supplies in which to make the prototype weapons—something she'd been making over the course of her stay through various families, in which she has been very successful in her very illegal actions. The father, who had caught her, was nearing his death and was not surprised by her actions, not because she was a faunus, but for another reason that Pascale has yet to determine. He kept her secret, but for a price.
When the father of the family died, inheritance was given to each child, three sons. It supposedly did not include Pascale, to her disappointment. In fact, she was given to the youngest son, and therefore giving her guardianship to him, very unwillingly. However, this was no mistake on the father's account, as the son was a budding huntsman and more than capable of taking care of his newly acquired child. Pascale had no idea of this arrangement, and was again caught stealing, but this time from a dust shop. Before she was harshly thrown into imprisonment, the huntsman successfully whisked her away and demanded her reasoning behind her actions. He had uncovered her weapons knowingly and questioned her motives, to which she truthfully answered. After her answer, he quietly slipped away with her prototypes, to her dismay, only to come back with a pair of boots, a hilt, and a smile. Her crude prototypes were actually rather volatile and after scrapping those, the huntsman helped Pascale create much better and safer to use weapons.
Grateful for his help, Pascale devised a complex scheme to pay the man back. Whilst he was away, Pascale found a the mayor of the town and his daughter out one day. Hiding her ears and tail, she closely followed the man until he approached a rather expensive looking car. Day after day, Pascale found an exact route in which the Mayor followed on a day-to-day basis. He went through town three times out of the week on the exact same days to do the exact same thing—the other four days were to variable for her to map his route. When the time was right, Pascale went according to her plan, jumping out of an alleyway as the man sped along the roads, and quickly timing it to where she could minimize the damage the car dealt to her as they both collided, the man having slowed considerably the moment he saw her. Luckily, she sustained only a large bruise on her arm and a few sprained joints. Rushing out, the woman in the passenger scooped her up without a word or thought and placed her in the backseat of the car. From there, Pascale quickly judged exactly what these two were like, a wealthy, but greedy man and his caring and generous daughter. They were both complete polar opposites.
As they neared her home and were assured that she was perfectly fine, it seemed Pascale had timed everything perfectly. It was a gamble, but one that she was quickly assured of as the huntsman who cared for her spotted the car and the passenger inside. By some miracle, the two fell in love instantly. A few years later, Pascale found herself the daughter of a very wealthy, married huntsman and his wife, the mayor's daughter. As exchange for setting something up, to which the huntsman caught on to, Pascale was trained and given what she wished, a free pass to Beacon. Kind of. She still had to worked extremely hard to get to where she was now.
Personality: A very mischievous gal, Pascale is, by nature, a very schemey and organized individual. If there's anything she loves more, it's complex planning, even if she won't ever get to do it in her lifetime. Coming up with a multitude of pranks and stockpiling them for later use, or to be forgotten, is a deep passion and hobby of hers. She's tricky and as decisive in public as she is in the battlefield, usually making herself as scarce as possible whenever possible. But, Pascale isn't at all a socially awkward or shy, in fact, she's as talkative as it gets and tends to talk in a very face, yet precise tones that, more or less, confuses whoever tries to keep up. Along with that, she's very passionate about protecting the weak and helping those in need, though she can tend to be very critical and cold when it comes to situations that call for choices that can make or break a community, opting for what's best over what's right sometimes. Those situations are very rare, but it brings a much darker side of Pascale to the foreground and it can sometimes completely run over her morals and beliefs.
When not faced with overly complex and complicated decisions, Pascale is a very happy go lucky gal and likes fun more than most things. Of course, her definition of fun can sometimes come at the cost of others, should that be their own enjoyment or their possessions, it all depends on the situation. Though she likes time alone, Pascale is very gregarious and can ache for social interaction should she be locked out of it for a number of hours. With a slightly off-putting sense of humor and a 'brush it off' attitude, Pascale is an individual who is very difficult to offend, especially since she sees herself as a person rather than a faunus or anything, really. Even though oppression of her kind is rampant, Pascale takes it all without much care to anything doing with racism or prejudice and more so looks for cases that actually call for action.
Post Sample:"'Scuse me, miss, but my boss doesn't want... faunus in his restaurant. I'm really sorry," a redhead, perky looking, with a deep, forced frown etched onto her pale features tapped the faunus' shoulder lightly, a tray in her hand.
The faunus, a bright and radiant Pascale, rose from her nook in the corner. Giving a nod, she passed by smiling as she responded, "No, no, I understand. I'm just passing through, anyways."
The waitress gave a nod before pausing in slight confusion. Passing through? In a restaurant? Her eyes slowly followed the girl as she entered the only bathroom in the building and exited a few second later. Her steps were giddy, confident and visibly exploding with energy as Pascale hopped away, a wink shot toward the redhead. If not for the gal's generally ditzy nature, she'd have immediately alerted her boss of any suspicions she encountered with the now retreating costumer. Of course, she didn't have much time to contemplate why the feline was now sprinting through an alleyway as a loud explosion caught her attention. Terror immediately choked her, as her first immediate reaction was that the long gone faunus was a terrorist and was now killing everyone inside the building. A screech ripped through her throat as she dove under the nearest table, splattering the contents of the tray on an unfortunate couple she was about to serve.
After the explosion, a series of shouts and cries filled the back of the building. Pascale, being the trickster she was born to be, had sneaked into every area that contained an orifice that lead to the facility's sewage and, in her mischievousness, piled a few mini-explosives into each, all hooked to a remote detonator, all of which she designed herself from stolen materials around the town. Every faucet that Pascale could stuff these explosives down erupted with a myriad of colors ranging from aqua blue to a very diarrhea brown or, for the lighthearted
COOKIE brown. Anyone caught in the radius of the spouts were coated in both water, feces, and whatever else they dumped down the drains. All because one faunus was feeling particularly giddy that day.
Arriving home, Pascale was immediately greeted with a pair of very stern looking faces. It seemed as if her news either traveled at FTL speeds or they personally saw her walk out of the restaurant before it exploded with nasty sewer water. Frowning, she gave looked down at her boots, clicking her heels together in a very guilty manner. After a moment of silence, Pascale turned her attention to her foster parents, doing her best to look at anything but their eyes.
"Was this because—"
Pascale jumped in, "No, I'd planned it months before the owner did that."
"You know we have to pay for this, right?"
"I mean, you don't
have to."
"You're right, we don't. You're paying for it."
"Crap..."
"Every bit of it."
"Punny..." Pascale sighed, scratching the back of her head, "You know I'm leaving in like four days, right?"
All she got was a nod, signaling that it was probably time to get packed so that she had enough time to repay the owner of the restaurant for the slightly less than harmless prank. Pascale shrugged as she made her way up the stairs and to her room, still giddy as she determined and weighed the costs of her actions. Opening her door with a smile, it was obvious that the look on the owner's face as he walked out of the kitchen was more than worth what she now had to do to repay the damages she caused. It was just one last bang before she left; a very loud farewell from a very eccentric gal.
