Here's the sheet if you'd like to begin work on a character.
Any field marked with an asterisk is optional.
Name: Callsign: Every character will have a single-word callsign, should be short and easily pronounced. Age: Mid-twenties at minimum, fifty at maximum. Appearance: Image or description, doesn't matter. No anime-style images. Height: In feet Weight: In pounds Personality: Give some character traits and a quick summary. Include an important character flaw. Biography: The past life of your character, why they joined Javelin, and what they bring to the table. *Armament: Your character's default equipment. Every Javelineer will bear an assault rifle, pistol, knife, and grenades by default, but any other equipment should be listed here. *Powers: If your character has any superpowers include them here, keep in mind superhumans are rare, and one managing to get into Javelin would be very difficult. It should probably be something easy to hide and weak if you're going to have it. *Other:
I encourage PMs for any secrets that you'd like me to utilize in the future.
The girl's response was helpful at least, even if it took her a while to get it out. She was clearly a bit socially inept, so Souta wasn't going to follow after her when she took off. He wasn't going to force himself on anyone, he just wanted directions, that's the long and short of it.
Her eyes were still weird though. Oh well, it wasn't important, if it had anything to do with her quirk, he'd find out soon enough.
The group over there seemed to be getting loud, real loud. One voice in specific actually. Souta didn't know any of the other students' names, but that one over there, the blue one, he didn't need a name to stick in Souta's mind the instant he saw him, roaring arrogantly and only being quelled by a teacher's intervention.
Souta hated him already.
Some UA wannabe who thought he was better than everyone else. Souta immediately felt the warmth of anger fill the vacuum that had taken hold of him ever since the breaking of his arm. He was shocked. Somehow he felt... passionate again. Just from seeing some asshole being an asshole. Huh. He'd have to think on that more, but right now he'd rather dwell on how he'd knock the blue kid down a peg rather than be happy that he felt alive again.
He had managed to antagonize a good portion of the class already, so the lot of them probably wouldn't mind if he tried to deal some sweet justice.
Wait, okay, so the teacher that just intervened was apparently their homeroom teacher, and he had said that they needed to head to the assembly hall, which another of the teachers had repeated. Okay. Souta had lost himself a bit there. He should probably start heading in, he didn't wanna be the one guy who didn't show.
He started walking in, but the path that he was taking didn't seem right, it wasn't close enough. He needed to move over just a bit, juuuust a bit.
In the effort of doing so, he bumbled into the bulky fellow, and it felt like he'd knocked his elbow off of a rock. People were usually soft, not solid stone as this guy seemed to be. He probably would have fallen if not for his quirk balancing him.
"Oh uh, sorry," he said simply, offering a slightly softened scowl to the larger boy, before continuing on his way.
As he passed by the blue-skinned student, he slowed to a stop and rubbed the back of his neck in faux-introspection. He loudly sighed.
"All these students, and none of them impress me," he said. Another sigh came out of his mouth. "Guess I'm just gonna be the stand-out. I thought I'd at least have to try. How disappointing."
He offered a pointed look at the boy with the turbines for arms.
This was going to be fun.
Souta overhears an argument and this sets fire to his beating heart. He bumps into Kenji before beginning to softly antagonize Hiroki.
Around ten years ago, an incident in a small town on the outskirts of Jakarta, Indonesia, was brought to international attention. A home in the very middle of the town had suddenly been consumed by ice. First responders entered the -50 degree building, discovering the frozen corpses of the family within.
And the infant who had caused it.
Superhumans are a dangerous breed. A superhuman body drives men to madness with overuse of their abilities. Those that choose their humanity suppress their abilities, keeping the beast that dwells within themselves at bay, but those who desire power or cannot handle their power choose to let it harm the innocents around them.
What of those people who can't defend themselves? Do they rely on the government to aid them? Do they hide and fear for their lives?
We here at Javelin believe that they should rely on neither of those options. So welcome, those who wish to protect their friends, their family, welcome to those who have fought and lost. The world needs a protector, and we at Javelin will provide a bulwark for decades to come.
"Uncommon Strength, for the Common Man" -Javelin company slogan
The introduction video sure makes it seem glorious, doesn't it? Defending the defenseless and all that, but working for Javelin is not easy. You've never felt fear until you've been chased by a pissed off skeleton that is swiftly regenerating all of its musculature in mere seconds. A Javelineer, as ground-level employees are known, is an expendable creature. Very few make it to their third mission, but if you survive that long, you're likely to keep surviving. At least, that's what the statistics say. So hey, there's a target to work towards.
Crazed superhumans are no easy target, even for a whole company of insane mercenaries, but usually you only have to deal with the one incredibly powerful freak of nature. That's comforting isn't it? Just remember that withdrawing and applying what you learned the first time to come back with a better plan is always an option.
Some of you may have personal vendettas against superhumans, some of you may be ex-soldiers with nowhere else to go, hell, some of you may just be psychopaths looking for a way to get your fix. No matter why you joined Javelin, there's a place for you and a gun on your back.
Try your best, that's all you can do. Well, that and hope to leave a pretty corpse.
He arrived at the top only to watch as almost everyone else joined into a blob of humanity, completely ignoring him. It was exactly what he had wanted when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't help being slightly offended. What, was he ugly? He didn't much think so, but maybe he wasn't the best person to judge his own attractiveness. Maybe it was because he had been awake all night and probably had bags under his eyes. He didn't know, he hadn't seen a mirror all day, but he could assume.
Or maybe they just knew each-other and he was over-analyzing. That could be it too.
He couldn't shake that feeling no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was wrong. Why did he care so much anyway? He never cared this much about anything before, not ever since baseball.
Well, whatever, he was here for his license, right? In however many years that took to get. He didn't want to make friends, right? He'd be cordial, but he didn't care enough to be friendly. Maybe that would change, it was doubtful, but maybe... right?
Ergh, why'd he have to go and screw it all up, he was good at baseball, when he played, his team-mates loved him, he didn't need to prove a goddamn thing. Now he had to work to get a job that he didn't care about so he could work at that until he died.
Well, whining about it to himself wasn't going to do anything, he needed to prioritize, and then let things fall where they may. Souta could eventually find at least contentment if he just calmed down. Let the past lie.
Like that was gonna happen.
Right, goals, okay, now he needed to figure out where the hell he needed to be. Maybe the girl that just got dropped off could help him figure it out, it wasn't that she looked like she had her stuff in order, she was just alone, so he didn't have to deal with anyone else. He sighed, and trudged his way over to her, putting on his least-frowny face.
"Hey, do you know where we're supposed to go?" Souta asked simply. He sounded more gravelly than he intended, maybe an after-effect of the sleep deprivation. Oh well, he didn't much care what this girl thought of him. He was more focused on just figuring this whole situation out and-
Her eyes are different colors.
The realization immediately brought his eyes from a lazy scan into a focused glare. Those eyes were definitely different from each-other. Was this a quirk mutation like his hands? Maybe, though he recalled this being one of the mutations that occurred even before quirks showed up, if his history teacher was telling the truth. Well it drew one's eye, he couldn't tear his own eyes away. The realization that he was staring caused him to let a sneer cross his face, directed internally of course, she'd understand that. Not that he cared. He never cared, never.
Why did he feel that he was trying to convince himself rather than stating facts?
Souta bitches about being ignored by everyone else because they actually have friends, Souta bitches to himself about fucking up, Souta calms the fuck down. Souta approaches Umi for directions and stares weirdly because her eyes are different colors. What a creeper
Tachibana Souta woke up at five AM. He remained in bed, wrapped in the covers and with his eyes closed until eventually he realized that he wasn't going to get back to sleep. He growled and tossed his covers off, standing up with a slouch in his back.
Well, he'd passed the entrance exam. That was good. He had no idea what he would have done if he failed. Not that he exactly wanted to be a professional hero. It was a career he supposed.
Souta wandered over to the window and pulled the blinds open, watching over the dark city. Chima prefecture was a strange place, especially for someone from Shikoku. He'd spent the last day getting called a hick, and to be honest, he was rather sick of it.
Hopefully tomorrow would be okay.
Well, he just hoped he woke up happy at some point.
Well, he guessed that he fell back asleep. It was a good assumption to make considering it was ten minutes to school starting and he was currently somewhere between the bed and wall with his alarm impotently screeching at him.
Souta didn't move any faster despite this, he was going to be late no matter what he did, so why stress about it.
He put on his shoes, ate a granola bar, and tossed a few ball-bearings onto the ground. He stuck them into the purposefully drilled holes in the soles, and used his feet to make them spin.
Souta remained motionless as his quirk carried him into the hotel elevator, suitcase in hand. He thanked the receptionist, then rolled out onto the road ahead. Ten minutes had gone to five. He was definitely going to be late. Well, he probably wasn't going to be the only one, hopefully. He didn't know what to expect of the other students, he hadn't spoken to them much during the entrance exam. Hopefully they weren't dicks. He'd prefer not to get into any fights on his first day.
Climbing up was a boring hell. His ball-bearings kept him going, but there wasn't much he could do but keep using his quirk. Around halfway up he began to feel dizzy, and had to stop for half a minute before continuing on his way.
Finally he came within sight of the school. He moved his weight to his heels, sending the ballbearings scattering across the ground. He spent a minute or so picking them off the ground before continuing on his way towards the doors.
He sighed as activity began to build up.
"Let's see how this goes."
Souta wakes up and heads to school reaaaaal late. Hopefully nobody yells at him.