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    1. BR8K 10 yrs ago

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Awesome! I've got a class soon but I'll have a character sheet up by this evening

--EDIT-- CS Finished and ready for inspection

Name: Ciel Wolshaw

Age: 17

Race: Human

Appearance: Nothing particularly impressive about him when he’s not all done-up. Fairly feminine form, average height, with not a single tattoo or piercing on him. Undyed (which is a rarity) his hair is a lackluster black that falls to the base of his neck. However, more often than not it’s colored varying shades of blue, as well as being flared and styled with a practiced hand.
His eyes are like ice, pale and glassy, reflecting just enough blue to avoid being blanch white. They are, perhaps, the only notable natural thing about him.
As for clothing, he usually prefers style to practicality. Whether this is due to confidence in his abilities or the fact that he just likes grabbing people’s attentions is up to speculation. It’s hard to miss him when he’s in a room, as there’s hardly a dark article of clothing in his wardrobe.

Color: A vibrant Cyan

Personality: Many people who have only met him once or twice might call him friendly, suave even, if not a bit eccentric. But after the initial contact, one might begin to find that Ciel is, above all else, a liar. He’s self-absorbed, manipulative, and none-too-keen on the faunus race. When he thinks someone might benefit him, he’s generally very polite and friendly with them, but that act can drop off very quickly the moment he’s faced with any resistance.
Given his personality, some might be surprised to find that he absolutely despises being alone. He prefers being in the company of those he hates, or those who hate him, to solitude.
Maybe once he wasn’t so volatile, but if ever that was the case, those days are long gone.

Weapon: Evelyn

(Image is more for an idea of the weapon than an actual representation)
The Evelyn is a blade that has been in the Wolshaw family for many generations. It’s always passed down to the child of the previous bearer, and when there is more than one child, they must compete for the right to wield it. It is renamed with each passing, to the liking of the new bearer.
The weapon itself consists of three parts: the actual sword and two sheathes attached to rotators. This is because the sheathes are equipped to propel the blade, giving it a devastatingly fast draw. As well, the sheathes can be equipped with dust coat the blade as its drawn for an elemental attack, but due to the speed behind it, the dust is shirked off after the initial draw and must be resheathed to do it again.
The fighting style of the blade has varied slightly from user to user, but the general idea is to resheathe the blade as often as possible to continuously rain high-velocity attacks on an opponent. It was Ciel’s father who implemented the dual-rotating-sheathes, so as to allow redraws nearly every time.
Ciel however, has much left to learn.

Semblance: Stutter – Ciel phases out of the material world and reappears a short distance away. The process is instantaneous in addition to combative uses the ability helps to aid with speedy travel. Ciel is incredibly hesitant to use the power, and unless prompted beyond the ability to lie, will avoid even mentioning what it is.

Backstory: Raised in a very close-knit family of huntsman and women, Ciel always had his eyes on the fame and glory of hunting Grimm. His sister however, was his leash when it came to keeping his priorities in line. She wanted the same as he did, but for different reasons, and between them she was far more experienced with combat than he was. By the time he as well as the rest of the family were fairly aware that his sister would be the one to take up the blade and carry on its legacy. He didn’t mind, she’d always wanted it more, and he’d convinced himself that he wanted to forge his own legacy with his own weapon anyway.
Their seventeenth birthday came, no contest was held. Ciel received the blade and was shipped off to Beacon shortly after.
Hey I was wondering if this still had openings to it? I'd love to join if so!
ImfuckingdyingjesuschristIlovethis
Thanks for the heads up on that, completely forgot
DECK

Moss was about to begin her search for the Engine room when the sudden, ear-splitting shriek of the freak rose above the sounds of the brewing storm, and damn near scared the life out of her. Teeth grit together, she whirled around, summoned up all the breath she had, and yelled back.

"Shut the fok up! Stop for christ's-sake, ya fine, ya alive!" she held angry eyes on the freak-boy, but there wasn't any more fear left in them. "I don't know if ya can even fok'n understand me, but pay attention, aye?"

She jabbed a finger at him, and then jutted the thumb back at herself. "Stay with me. Before shite gets absolutely fok'd, we have to start gatherin' folks together, or we're all gonna sink, ya understand me?" She made the same motions with her fingers once again. "Stay with me, got it? Stay. With. Me."

A mental note for her was made then to never have kids. At least no weird, moon-man-language-speaking freak kids.

That settled, she heard the shouting of another voice, familiar and no longer uttering sobbing words. The strange girl, Tam-Something, seemed to be in a hurry of her own. Well, they had to gather, and though all of this sudden buddy-buddy shite was way out of Moss's own comfort zone for interactions, she much preferred the awkward bout of courage to swimming in brine.

"Fine, aye, good," she said quickly, giving the strange girl her attention. "Do ya know where we can find this damn Engine Room?"
Yeah, adventuring time! \o/
Moss jolted at the sounds and sight of the side-wings extending out. She scurried over to the railing, looking down at them with skeptical fascination. That wasn't where sails went, boats didn't have bloody wings, and they sure as hell didn't have trees in them either. Part of her wanted to hop down onto them and see what sort of bits they were attached to, but then something else caught her attention.

The sky was furious, she'd never seen clouds like those that had begun to rage above them. The deck and in fact the whole ship was rocking, their great vessel at the mercy of the waves and the gales. This was going to get very bad very fast if they didn't get a grip on this ship. Before she could move to the odd girl and the priest-looking guy, a sudden, panicked voice nearly jumped her out of her skin.

--"Hey, is anyone there? There is something down here. Get us out of here!"--

Well, at least whoever that was seemed to be on the same level as everyone else. She made her way back to the speaker, giving it a tap before leaning in close. The metal gave her lips a static tinge at first, but she ignored it.

"Aye, I hear ya," she said back. "Just sit uh...sit tight, where are ya?"
MAP ROOM/DECK

Texas? He didn't look like any Texans she'd ever seen. Then again, she hadn't seen many, not so far out in the country. So she was willing to buy that, Chris from Texas it was. It didn't at all help to describe their situation, however, in fact, it only made it more confusing. How had she ended up on a boat with a Texan, and wherever the hell the rest of these people -and cat freak- were from.

"Aye," she nodded. "Fell asleep there, woke up here. Didn't have any enemies really."

That was a lie, that was one hundred percent a lie. She'd conned so many miners out of their hard-earned gold that she was almost convinced this had nothing to do with them. If they'd have caught her, she wouldn't have woken up on a ship in god-knows-where. She wouldn't have woken up at all, in fact.

She walked back to the map, blinking away a sudden sting that accompanied her passage through a dustier portion of the room. She however chalked it off as nothing more than the salty air. When she looked down to the large paper, she paid more attention to the little things. Not the map itself per say, lord knew she couldn't read a map, let alone this map, but blood was identifiable fairly easily. Licking a finger, she touched the coffee stain and brought it back to her tongue cautiously. Blood and coffee, someone had poured effort into this table, whether it was the map or not.

The interesting thing she saw was the pendulum's direction, and how it seemed to view the map with a particular interest to a certain direction. The ship's sway seemed to have no effect on it, but she didn't trust the thing to withstand a major pitch. So, she scanned it over and committed the place the pendulum pointed to to memory, and then put it on its side. A monopoly on information did her good everywhere else, why not here?

Reaching down, she meant to roll up the map and take it with her, but the sides caught her palm at an odd angle, and gave her a thin slit beneath her fingers. Ugh, paper cuts, as if she didn't get enough of that in cards. She rolled it up properly then, and folded it to fit under her shirt.

"If those two ain't dead, we oughta go an' find the wheel, see if we can't turn this big lug around," she said. "Might take us a bit t'get back, but that big foker with the beard -you see that guy?- that one, I'll bet he knows how to captain a-"

The last of her words drifted from her lips, and while at first she was speaking to Chris, by the end she was just staring forward. Moss could not, for the life of her, feel her head. When she tried to step, the odd balance had her stumbling back into the table, free hand scrambling for a grasp, but all she found was the pendulum and the remaining bone dust. By chance her footing stabilize and she leaned against the table. There were voices coming from somewhere -no, not somewhere, up. They were coming from above.

"Someone's...there's a...fok..." her composure was only coming back slowly, but the lightheaded feeling would just not go away. She shut her eyes, waiting for a moment, taking a deep breath only to choke on the god damned dust she'd kicked up. As if the wind wasn't bad enough at that already. Really, screw the ship, screw the sea.

When her eyes opened, she gasped, for she was not one to often scream when startled. For the sliver of a moment, before her head rocketed around to try and see it fully, she caught a glimpse of...something. Something terrifying, or at least when whole, terrifying, for she only caught a ghost of a glance at it.

The hammer was clutched tighter. Never mind, screw this room first of all things. "We should go outside, out o' here. I'm goin' outside. I'm gonna walk. What's the worst that could happen?" her words were breathed and shaky, and the first couple steps she took were hardly stable. But by the time she reached the door her conviction to be absolutely anywhere but in there overcame her induced imbalance, and she was outside in the thick air. It took her a good couple moments to get her bearings, but she did see the big fellow and the jumpy girl, at least until the jumpy girl took a little tumble out of sight.
*Excited noises*
Hallucinations! :D
@t2wave
MAP ROOM

She quirked a brow at him. People not understanding her was common enough, she supposed, but it never failed to make her a tad indignant. She leaned against the center pillar, mulling over how to rephrase her question.

"Aye, ya voice. Ya talk like one o' the suit-and-tie-folks, y'know, the businessmen. Not a lot o' them around San Francisco anymore, so where ya from?"

It was perhaps the first question she ever asked people. Even when she was set up behind a small table, playing them in rigged games of blackjack or find-the-lady, she'd always lead with some form or another of "where are you from?". Mostly because she was curious about that sort of thing, but also because she'd vowed never to con a Spaniard or another Irish. Seemed like bad blood, really.
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