Crimson Raven

Character Creation Competition #1

I might actually do this one.

Who am I kidding. I'll procrastinate for several days then forget all about it until the deadline.

Edit: Question: What is your policy with faceclaims? People who can draw their own art, or afford a commission are at a decent advantage.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

⚙️ Ferris Grey Solidor
Beacon, Courtyard ⚙️

^{Tuesday, 16:07}

Ferris sensed someone's approach, but only looked up when he heard his name called out. Before him was a girl he recognized from the information he received on his team, including a picture. Although the picture didn't do her justice. She was of medium height, built like a runner, and shapely in a way that the beacon-issued uniform completely failed to hide. She had long, dark windblown hair that might have been orderly once, before it's owner had been running around, framing a fairly pretty face with cheerful, bright blue eyes that matched the various shades of blue and white that seemed to make up her color scheme.

Her name was...uh...Su-Yeon. Su-Yeon Kang. What an interesting name.

His assessment of her made a brief but notable pause before he spoke. "Most of the time." He replied with a faint smile. He smoothly swung his legs down and stood up, simultaneously dog-earing the page he was on and tucking the slim paperback into a pocket on the inside of his white coat, which he wore over his uniform. (Frowned upon by the dress code, but no one had said anything yet.) Upon standing he found he was about a head taller than her. "I believe yours is Su-Yeon Kang?" He asked, stumbling a bit over the pronunciation. His mouth didn't quit like the shapes of the syllables he was forcing them to make.

@NaraK

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

⚙️ Ferris Grey Solidor
Beacon, After Class ⚙️

^{Tuesday, 16:00}

Well that was a blast. Ferris thought, indulging in some light irony. Practice consisted of little more than an obstacle course and random bits of exercises. Their 'teacher', the chameleon, spent the class in a one on one session with a student Ferris didn't recognize. As a result, the class deteriorated as they tend to do when nobody was keeping an eye on a bunch of bored teenagers.

Not that Ferris really minded too much. He was too deep in through to do more than go through the motions. Early on, he idly pulled out a coin, and repeatedly flipped then caught it, using a smidgen of his semblance to pull it back to him if he missed it or it flew out of easy reach.

He kept this up through the entire obstacle course. When he needed both hands, or as an extra challenge he'd flip it extra high and try to cross the obstacle before it hit the ground, Pulling it back to him regardless of the outcome. He clearly wasn't taking things seriously, and as a result his time was lackluster. (Although decently fast, considering.)

Remarkably, he kept up his coin flipping for almost the entire class. From long practice, he was good at catching it, and the aura used to retrieve a missed coin was miniscule amount.

Class let out after a grindingly slow hour, and not long after it did, Ferris felt his Scroll vibrate. Upon checking it, he found he had an old message from his half brother (which he immediately deleted) and a new one with the information on his team.

Ferris frowned at it. The team thing had been strange ever since he started here, people coming and going, delays and mistakes. But one thing had remained the same. He had been assigned as Captain.

That alone made Ferris wonder if Ozpin had gone senile. Jokingly wonder, mind. The few times Ferris had come across their headmaster, he had been impressed--no, awed by his mind. Ferris couldn't really explain it. If he had to guess, he would say that Ozpin's eyes were old.

Which didn't make sense. Of course they were, he was probably late in his sixties. Plenty of time to gain wisdom, especially since being a Hunter was an inherently dangerous job. Old Hunters were wise hunters. So why did Ferris get such a strange feeling from him?

Ferris shrugged off that line of thought. The man was a legend, after all. He could just be a little star-struck.

With one dexterous hand, he rapped out a quick message and sent it to all three members of his team:

Rendezvous at main courtyard by NE fountain in ten minutes. We need to meet up before missions.

And that was it. Short and to the point. That was him. Anything else generally was an act.

---

He cut through a few shortcuts, hopped a building with a few coins and his semblance, and made it to the designated spot in five minutes, easily the first one there. Good. Had to set an example.

That boring-ass class had only made him more restless and read for some real action. He was hoping that mission work would scratch that itch. But first, he needed to know who he would be working with. He had already met one of them. The loudly dressed girl, who's name escaped him. But the other two were unknown. He hoped to familiarities himself with their weapons, semblances, and skills, before he had to work together with them. Teamwork was critical.

Seeing as no one else was there yet, Ferris pulled out a small book, hopped up on the fountain's rim, and began to read.

@NaraK@Caasicam@harinezumikouken

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

@Leslie Hall

Well, Ferrin would probably hit it off with Ignis. if he can stand the wiseassery Similar interests, complementarity magics with interesting parallels.

I can see interesting potential conversations between them.

My only concern is his power. I think Caits was against characters being that powerful straight out.

But, it fits thematically, and he has fairly limited combat power with clear weaknesses so I don't see it being an issue.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Ferrin Astra

_{@LightningMaiden@MarshiestMallow}

Ferrin nooded at Sasha’s response, slightly disappointed that she seemed take the wisecrack seriously.

Then Cecilia spoke up and Ferrin immediately stilled then smiled guilelessly at the cat. “Do I?” He asked, his mannerish suddenly starkly different. The fact that it was a cat talking barely registered as a blip on his weirdness scale. He went from low-key nervous to completely relaxed disturbingly quickly.

He shifted his smile, which also shifted to a more charming look, to Amaya as she hurriedly apologized. Althugh his smile faltered slightly at the mention of her being a dragonslayer, it recovered quickly. “It is quite all right, Amaya Van Isis.” He said, rolling her name around. “You have quite the lovely name.” He complemented her. “Although it is not half as lovely as you, yourself.” He paused the continued, still wearing that smile as a mask. “You said you are a dragonslayer yes? I admit, I am not fond of your kind. I have had bad experiences with them before. But I am curious to know more. What element do you specialize in? Did you actually learn it from a dragon? I’ve never seen one before, but I have always admired the power they reportedly wield.”

Bad memories came back. A laughing blood-stained figure. Death amd blood everywhere. It seemed like he just couldn’t escape that particular ghost. Which made sense, he supposed but he was getting sick of that insictive cringe he felt whenever the memory reared it’s ugly head. However Ferrin let none of his discomfort show. His control over himself was iron and this girl definitely didn’t deserve his suspicion and distrust.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

I really need to start doing random posts in the ooc... hm.

@MarshiestMallow

Probably post here if you're talking about posting or the RP? And then use the discord for chit chat?

Probably post here if you're talking about posting or the RP? And then use the discord for chit chat?

@CitrusArms

@CitrusArms

I can do random. :}

Fire Emblem: A Blinding Light

"No it can't be seven say eight dammit! Eight is better! It's physically impossible to cut the number seven in half and make it symmetrical! It has to be eight instead! Eight cut vertically or horizontally stays perfectly symmetrical! Take it back I beg of you! Please say eight! PLEASE!"

~~Death The Kid

Cloud Chasers | First Book: Casting Stones Upon the Glass Sky |[ Invite Only ]|

[Redacted]

Cloud Chasers | First Book: Casting Stones Upon the Glass Sky |[ Invite Only ]|

Character sheet ver 2, long overdue.

Amara Themis Solidor

Guild Membership Card

"A wise man once told me thus: 'Revenge is never a straight line. It is a forest, and like a forest, it's easy to lose your way, to get lost, to forget where you came in.' ...but what does he know?”

Personality

<sub>Amara is a odd girl. She seems reserved and quiet. She doesn't speak often and when she does, she speaks softly. But don't mistake this for shyness or lack of self-confidence. She is a strong willed, confident, and stubborn girl. She has guts. And spunk. She is a girl of iron, grit, and rawhide. Once resolved, anything in her way is merely an obstacle to be overcome.

Yet, this isn't immediately obvious. She is polite and kind to most people, even strangers. She carries herself with confidence and more bearing then one would expect from someone so young, and despite her youth she behaves mature beyond her years. She is slow to anger, endlessly patient, and carries an absolute calm even in the most stressful situations. She is a rational and level-headed person.

But, she has a dark side. A side that lacks mercy, compassion, or forgiveness. She holds grudges like a merchant holds debts, and she will never let the unfortunate target know. Instead, she will smile and be nice to them for weeks on end—-only to get her revenge long after they have completely forgotten the insult. Amara is the last person you would want to piss off.

An then there is her rage. She burns with rage against the Librarium for what they did. A rage so hot, so, powerful, so bitter, it turned ice cold. If she could, she would single-handedly tear down the entire Librarium and slaughter anyone who gets in her way. And to her, this is logical. Like two and two make four, the Libraium. Must. Fall.</sub>

| Nａｍｅ: |

Solidor Themis Amara

| Alias|Nickames|Titles: |

N/A

| G e n d er: |

Female

| R a n k: |

C

| Ａｇｅ: |

16

| Guild : |

Cloud Chasers

| History: |

A Brief History Lesson

Centuries before the Lbrarium rose to power, a small splinter of mages split off from those that came from Fiore. They were mages who practiced an ancient, deep, and powerful magic: Summoners. They had come to find a place where they could practice and refine their magic in peace, unbeholden to king or country. Like the others, they made peace with the natives and learned to survive from them. They established a small village, which was creatively referred to as the Summoner’s Hamlet. Despite being in the depths of the jungle, it was a safe place to live due to being under the protection of the Summoner’s mighty eidolons.

Through the chaos that later plagued Pandora for centuries, the little haven was untouched by war. In fact, refugees and other sorts came from all over, seeking asylum. The Summoner’s Hamlet out grew it’s name, from a humble village to a small but beautiful city. It was eventually renamed to reflect the first thing many people called it when they first saw it: Arcadia. Paradise.

Part of the reason it was not visited by war was because of the stubbornly pacifistic nature of its many leaders. In their minds, protecting Arcadia’s people and magic was above all, in that order. The other part was the power the Summoner’s commanded. Whenever a new power came, they would establish a treaty with the conqueror, or simply surrender with only a few terms.

However when the Librarium came to power, they fought to preserve their freedom to practice magic.
Fought and lost. And their name was wiped from history, leaving behind nothing but ruins, a legend, and a book. That book was in the hands of one of few that escaped the fate the befell the city. It was then hidden and the secret of it’s location passed from parent to child for a century…

Amara Themis Solidor was born from a tryst between a nobleman and beautiful, but poor woman. While considered an illegitimate child, her parents were in love, her father brought her mother in and made her his wife officially. Her father was a very high-ranking officer in the Librarium, as had been his father and his grandfather back many generations, thus their noble title. He childhood was, for a time happy. She had an older half brother and a little full brother.

But it didn't last.

She was eight when things began to go wrong. Her father was suddenly arrested and charged with treason. Rebellion, they said. Her older brother disappeared as well. She was forced to watch her father hang in a public execution. She will never forget the face of the one who could have spared him, but instead condemned him to death.

After he passed, their wealth was slowly taken away from them. They were pressured, politically and personally. For what reason, she did not know or even understand.

In their decline, they were refused even the simplest of help. A sickness took her younger brother, and without the right medicine, he died. Slowly and painfully.

Not long after he died, they came for her mother. She, now a girl of fourteen and her mother were arrested and declared traitors. Official story went that the mother fought back with forbidden magic and she and her child were killed rather than captured. The truth was, her mother struck a deal, then their 'death' and disturbance it cause was faked. Amara was quietly taken, and then tossed into a dark cell. Beyond that, however, they did nothing to her. She was brought three meals a day of decent quality, and the cell had a second room that contained a working bathroom, she was also delivered water and things to bathe once a day, along with a change of clothing. The main room was small but it was clean and it had a bed with blankets and a pillow. Not exactly luxury but it could have been far worse. The worse part was boredom and anxiety. She had nothing to do, except wait.

An unknown amount of time passed before they came for her. They seized her firmly and marched her through endless hallways then pushed her into a different room. Her mother was there. She was beaten, thin, haggard and most of her hair was grey, but it was still her mother. They tearfully embraced. But their reunion was cut short.

An ominous masked figure demanded to know where The Book was. Her mother came back with a reminder that part of the deal of her coming peacefully was that Amara was unharmed. The figure laughed and pointed out that, as she could see, her child was unharmed. And if she wanted her to stay that way, she would reveal to location of The Book. All this mostly went over Amara's head, but she was frightened of the man in the mask. Cruelty and sadism oozed from his every word, every gesture. Her mom called him a monster, to which he merely laughed and gave her two minutes to decide. Amara's mother looked at her, her eyes filled with such tender love for her child and a deep, resolute sadness. Amara would always remember that look. It was clearly hard, but in the end, her mother chose her child over some forgotten legacy. She used magic to pull the book from where it was hidden in Amara’s body. The deal she had struck stipulated that Amara was not to be harmed and was to be cared for. Which, technically, the masked man pointed out with obvious cruelty, she had been. Her hope was to hide the book with Amara and then kill herself, foiling the Libraium’s search for the book.

But, it had all gone wrong.

Now that they had no further use for the mother and daughter, they cast some magic on them. Not knowing what it was, Amara’s mother pushed her out of the way and out of the radius of the spell. When it vanished, she seemed unharmed, so Amara approached, calling out for her.

“W-who are you?” Amara’s mother asked.

Amara, frightened, her world crumbling around her and her mind breaking, called out again and crawled closer. They repeated the exchange. And then again. But suddenly, something broke in her mother’s mind. With sudden, feral ferocity, she leapt on Amara and tried to strangle her, screaming “Not my daughter!” Over and over. Her screams attracted the attention of the masked figures, who had been intent on the book. Even they were shocked at what they saw. One of them, out of kindness, or cruelty, drew a sword and rammed it into Amara’s mother, covering her with her blood.

“Not my daughter…but her ghost.” Were her last words, whispered in Amara’s ear.

That was the final blow that shattered the mind of the young girl.

She screamed. And Her magic awoke. She sent out a summon, seeking something to fill the sudden void in her. And someone did. Her screams stopped.

She stood calmly. "I am the First Summoner, Solomon." She proclaimed, the words falling like hammer blows. The being speaking through her with her mouth. "You who have hurt my daughter," He glared death at the masked figures. "Pick your god and pray that he lets you in."

The First Summoner proceeded to summon a trio: a dark-haired, golden-eyed man with a metal arm, a dark-haired girl with grey eyes and a masked pushed to one side, and a tall, inhumanly beautiful woman with a similar set of features to the girl. The man seemed to object to being summoned, but The First Summoner talked him down and pointed out he had better things to do, like chasing the fleeing masked men. He unwillingly did so, along with the woman. The girl, he commanded to stay with him.

Now that he had a moment, the Summoner wondered how this girl had managed to summon him. Then he saw the book on the table and it became clear. She had, on pure instinct, accomplished the impossible. She had used both her own blood and the book as catalysts and somehow summoned him.

He tucked the book away and walked over to the woman with sadness in his eyes. “Such a brave daughter. It wasn’t your fault. Rest now.” He reached down and close her eyes. When he stood up, he staggered. The girl didn’t have enough power to sustain her conjuring for long. He had to get her to safety. He realized calmly.

With unexpected help from one of the masked Librarians, The First Summoner managed to escape with Amara. A contact the traitor Librarian knew was able to get them on board the Cloud Chaser’s ship and the next thing Amara knew is that she was waking up in a bed on the ship. With the last remnants of his borrowed power, The First Summoner explained to her what had transpired, what she was, and gave her advice on what to do. He also transferred two summons contracts to her in hopes they were protect her in his stead. With that, his sprit vanished

Now, two years have passed…

In that time, Amara seemed to undergo a miraculous, incredible recovery. Almost too incredible to believe…

---

| Magic: |
Summoning

Summoning is a very broad term for a type of magic that contains many disciplines. The magic of Summoning has long been studied by the Solidor clan, passed down through generations which each spending their lives to study the art. Despite this, much is still not understood about the mystical art of Summoning.

More information

Summoning is simply put, the ability to call upon and dismiss something at will. These can be living or non-living objects, however for reasons not understood, it is much easier to call living things then non-living things. Non-living things summoned are usually the result of a failed or flawed summoning, but not always. Requip magic is a subtype of summoning, using the same principals to move inanimate objects in an out of storage. Summons are mainly accomplished by a combination of chanting, gestures, force of will, and of course, magical power. More advanced summons might need a catalyst, which helps guide the summon to a target, a sacrifice or payment, which play a number of different roles, or a focus, that helps prevent interference and protects the summoner. All or some of these can be combined into a ritual or done on the fly. The difference being the necessary focus and power of the summoner, with the amount of risk they are willing to take. Rule number one: "Do not call up that which you cannot put down."

One of the most important safety measures taken by any summoner are contracts. Contracts are an agreement by two or more parties to abide by certain conditions, contracts between summoner and summonee are very common to the point that there is a standardized and detailed basic contract that has been drafted by the Solidor family that covers most of the basics and is integrated into their summon formula. Exact terms, however, are vary between summons. A contract can be made any number of ways some examples are through the summons's formula, which the summonee can (sometimes) accept or ignore, or, more traditionally, through written word and signed with blood.

There are six classified branches of Summoning: Physical, Imaginary, Mythos, Soul, Object, and Conjuring. There is one more that is little more than a rumour: Celestial. The classifications are, for the most part, an artificial creation, and as such, some overlap might exist. There are always exceptions.

Physical Summons

Physical summons are people, plants, objects, animals or even concepts that exist within the same dimension as the summoner. These summons are less taxing and have a low chance of a spell gone astray, and a relatively low risk of conjuring up something beyond the summoner's ability to handle. However, the summoner must have a magical affinity with whatever they are summoning. This severely limits any summoner and is a difficult limitation to get around. Contracts can help, though and they can be made with anything that has some form of intelligence. However, these contracts are far less binding than any other form. Humans, theoretically be summoned this way, but no one has found a way to do it safely.

Imaginary Summons

Imaginary summons are a curious case, and probably the least well known. Summons that fall under this category are beings and objects that don't exist in reality, but inside the imaginations of humans. Scholars theorize that they come from a dreamscape, plane composed of human dreams which contains many things that simply defy explanation. Anything that has been dreamt up, but does not actually exist, is (theoretically) there. The more prevalent the dream, the stronger the manifestation. A summoner reaches into this plan and gives form and substance to the dream and calls it into the real world. This includes personifications of ideals and emotions. Most summoners dip into this realm to call up familiars and then bond with them. These familiars start as insubstantial wisps and gradually take shape, power, and personality based on their bond. More experiences summoners can call up beings of their own designed, made right out of dreams. These are of medium power, but easy to maintain and unlikely to turn on summoners. Their power directly correlates to the power of the summoner, meaning that they are unable to create anything more powerful than themselves.

However, dipping into the realm of dreams is dangerous for the sanity of the summoner, for there, there are found reflections of their innermost dreams, good and bad. The eldritch horrors that stalk the plane are merely an afterthought. It is said that if one can master the realm of dreams, they will master themselves and gain god-like power. Pity the fools who believe this and have tried, for the Dreamers do not like their sleep disturbed...

Mythos

Generally the most powerful of all forms of summoning, but also the most dangerous and difficult. Mythos summons include monsters, djinns, horrors, powerful creatures of myth and legend, demons, angels, gods, and things that do not have a name, abominations that would destroy all of reality simply because they can. Summoning Mythos is truly dangerous in the extreme. No novice is ever allowed even the knowledge of the existence of this branch of summoning. Summoning mythos is unlike other forms of summoning. These are beings of unimaginable power and have been around for millennia, which they have spent getting the better of mortals. The only way to safety deal with mythos summons are vast and detailed contracts, along with every advantage the summoner can get a hand on. Most of them will offer deals for, knowledge, power, wealth, ect in exchange for something equally precious. Successfully summoning one is rare, and surviving the experience is even rarer. Wise summoners stay far away from attempting to summon Mythos.

Souls

Soul summoning is the most reliable form of summoning. Similar to necromancy in many ways, it calls up the souls of the dead to serve the summoner. But that is where the similarities end. Soul summoneing calls up powerful beings, called Einherjar, who accomplished great things in life. Einherjar are not precisely undead, but rather the recording of the souls of beings who were great in life. These things do not have to be human, only dead or destroyed. All attempts to create one intentionally has failed; the exact details of the creation of an Einherjar is unknown. Einherjar usually need a catalyst, something with a strong connection to them, for the initial summons and the creating of a pact. The conditions are up to the Einherjar, it could be steep or it could be nothing. It is possible for a sufficiently powerful summoner to disregard a pact and completely overpower an Einherjar, in combat or otherwise, rending them little more than unwilling puppets. The opposite holds true, though if the Einherjar wins, then can choose to dismiss themselves or stick around. But, they will eventually vanish if they don't have a supply of magic. Once a contract is made, Einherjar can be passed from person to person or bound to places or objects. Einherjar's power and skill varies greatly, but all of them excelled at something, making even one a powerful ally and a dangerous enemy. They can fight to the death, and even if they are killed, they can be re-summoned after some time has passed.

Object Summons

Though difficult and of limited use, Object summons are possible. The most widespread form of this is requip magic, which stores objects in pocket dimensions. Other forms of this include using inscribed runes to summon objects, or summoning random objects from a distance, usually as the result of a failed summon. The magic requirement increases exponentially with size and mass. Also, enchanted objects are much harder to transport because the enchantments interfere with the summoning spell. However, there is a discipline of Object summoning that focuses not on summoning objects, but on drawing out the spirit of an object.

Conjuring

Conjuring is an advanced form of Summoning that allows the caster to call upon their summon internally. A through conjuring, a mage can access the powers, skills, physical abilities, and even memories of the target. Take-Over magic is one form of this. Conjurers can also cast spells by channeling the power of the summons and using it as their own. The inherent risks are fairly obvious, conjurers run the risk of being possessed or influenced by their summons or killing themselves by channeling more power then they can control, but at the same time, it could be considered safer then summoning, due to the mage having conscious control over their power. People have long believed that by using this, they could channel the power of gods, but none have ever attained this level of power.

As a side note, physical appearance changes are common among conjurers. Things like hair color and eye color changes, both temporary and permanent are among the many side effects of hosting beings in their bodies. Others like scales, fur, even extra limbs, and personality changes happen. The ultimate change is a dramatic shift in their magic specialization. Things like drawing upon large amounts of power or hosting for a long time increases the chance of these changes happening and or becoming permanent.

Celestial

Considered an old wives tale, if not an outright myth. But, old books indicate the existence of celestial keys that can summon spirits of awesome power. Little else is known, no key has ever been seen, and no reliable evidence exists.

The way a summoner acquirers summons varies depending on what they are trying to obtain. In general, it is done in three ways, performing very specific steps in a ritual, with the details differing depending on what is being called up, using a catalyst, or defeating creatures in combat.

Amara has talent in both Soul summoning and Conjuring, but little to no experience in them. She has a great amount of potential magic stores and power, but she has been unable to harness them properly so far. As of now, she only can pull out two or three medium summons or one big one before she gets completely exhausted. She can summon a great number of little critters easily, though. As for contracted summons, she has four, a Chimera, a minor Mythos monster, and two Einherjar; an easy-going sylvan swordsman named Quaid, and a honorable but bloodthirsty demon-sword-wielding samurai named Mifune.

Contracted Summons

Chimera: A minor mythos monster with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail, it also breaths fire. Strong and surprisingly fast for it's size, and those wings are not for show. It is capable of flight. However, it isn't the brightest creature. Instead, it relays on its primal, savage instincts, tearing apart whatever is unfortunate enough to be in its way. Amara acquired this beast during her time with the Cloud Chasers after a misadventure that ended with her accidentally braining the creature with a kitchen sink out of a failed summon. That stunned it long enough so that, with help, she managed to capture and claim it

Sylvan Excalibur Quaid: An Einherjar. He started out as a simple sellsword who traveled from place to place, but his life changed when, with the dying words of his father, he was given a sacred position. He, along with even others held these positions, as guardians of their country. He was given a divine, sylvan sword and trained in magic and combat. Over time, his kindness and strong sense of justice made him a leader figure in the group.

In those days, demons threatened their country, so the twelve, each powerful in their own right, were sent on a mission to eradicate the threat. But after they left none of the twelve were ever heard from again. Curiously, neither were the demons.

Quaid has power over the wind, and he is a fine swordsman. He can be described as well balanced, a jack of all trades but master of none. While not the most powerful spirit, he makes up for what he lacks in power with cunning and a solid grasp of tactics.

Heavenless Bushi Mifune: Einherjar. A samurai warrior, who wields a cursed demoniac blade. His demonic blade is said to be the sharpest sword in existence. He can behead a man, and that man not know it until a gust of wind comes by to finish the job. But in return, it desired blood. It's will worked on Mifune's, stoking his will to fight. So, he traveled everywhere he could, fighting the strongest fighters he could find, also fighting in many wars along the way. With his incredible swordsmanship and powerful blade, it seemed like he would never be beaten. However, he met his match when he challenged a powerful dragon. During the epic struggled, he was dealt a fatal wound. But such was his skill that he returned the favor with a single mighty blow that split the dragon in two. He died soon after, blade in hand, satified. However, even in death, his demon-blade would not let him rest. It pulled him from the underworld and returned him to a sort of unlife to continue to do battle. Dying only sharpened his skills further, and his will and the will of his blade were entwined. At the very height of his power, it is said he slew a god with a single blow. Only time could dull his might. He continued to fight until his body and Blade crumbled to dust.

A very taxing summons, Amara dislikes him and will only call on him if she is in true danger. She obtained him from the mysterious stranger who saved her life.

Mifune is a master swordsman, wielding a powerful demonic blade. His lightning-fast movements combined with a supernaturally sharp sword makes him a dangerous foe that can end a fight in mere seconds. However, he is a relatively fragile spirit, a few solid hits will cause enough damage to kill or dispel him.

| Miscs : |

Amara's guildmark is white and located on her left shoulder.

Is left handed.

Secretly feeds the small animals and birds on board the airship, much to dismay of her crew mates.

Reads just about anything she can get her hands on.

Prized possessions:

- a large, old plain looking book

She is sensitive about her body. Calling her short or small or any comment about her size is a sure and quick way to piss her off.

Theme: This will be the day.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Ferrin Astra

The cabin was lit by half light of the sun streaming through a small porthole. It's stale and musty air was tinged with the omnipotent taste of salt. Wood staves creaked and groaned with the gentle rocking of the ship, providing a discordant chorus. A lone figure, standing straight and tall, interrupted the light's path, sending his shadow sprawling across the floor. A silent tension lay over him. His breath was steady, a gentle, rhythmic ebb and flow. Around him, a gentle silver mist swirled in time with his inhale and exhalation. The amount of magic gathered in the room was visible to the naked eye in the form of that mist. Fractured images, like shards of a mirror, danced within the roiling mist, reflecting the inside of the cabin and it's occupant.

Tenrou Island was near.
Ferrin could feel it.

He felt a blanketing calm cover him, fill him. A stillness broken only by gentle sounds of life and the creaking chorus of the ship.

He discarded unnecessary thoughts.
He discarded unwanted feelings.

He discarded sight.
He discarded hearing.
He discarded taste, touch, and smell.

Only the magic remained. Seething and surging. Life itself. He focused his mind solely on his control. He held the trance-like state as he opened his eyes and with slow, dream-like motions, readied himself. Pants, Shirt, socks, shoes, and finally, his donned his Armament, the enchanted coat that had seen him through many battles and had preserved his life on numerous occasions. A flash of requip magic brought Shiden, his trusty sword, to his hand. he inspected it's glimmering length and razor-sharp edge. He gave it an experiential flourish, listening to it rend the air. Satisfied, he dismissed it, sending it back to it's magical storage dimension.

He was ready.

With a relaxed exhale, he also dismissed the gathered magic mist, which quickly dispersed into nothing. Wrapping his blanket of calm around his shoulders, like a mantle. With purposeful motions, he opened the door, passed through the hall and strode out into the sunlight.

And promptly collapsed on the deck. "It is...so hot." Ferrin gasped. The air was still and humid and the sun's heat mercilessly beat down on the ship. And in the thousand degree heat, he was wearing a heavy coat and a metal arm. "Nopenopenope." Ferrin muttered, dragging himself back into the relative coolness of the shade. He stood up and swung off his coat. Out of a pocket, he produced a felt pen and then used it to draw a rune on the inside of his coat. He stuck the pen behind his ear and placed his metal palm on the rune. "Rune magic," He chanted. "Regulare Cauma." The was a quick rush of magic and when he removed his palm, the activated rune gently glowed silver. Ferrin slipped his coat back on and sighed in relief. "Ahh, much better." He sighed. The rune regulated heat, which meant that he could stay cool even in the hot sun while wearing a heavy coat.

He spotted Sasha, the driving force behind this expedition, in conversation with another girl and what appeared to be a strange cat. He raised an eyebrow and meandered over, catching the last part of what Sasha was saying.

"With the caliber of wizards gathered here, I would be more worried about making sure the island is safe. If it is still there by the end of this, I will be quite surprised." He called, opting for his signature wisecracks. The magus stopped beside her, giving the two females a nod. He folded his hands behind his back and greeted then. "Good morning." He said to them with unusual friendly cheer. Then his expression turned almost comically puzzled. "I think it is morning. Is it still morning? ...yeah it's morning, jury is still out on the good part though. Good morning." He repeated, flashing both of them a genteel smile. It looked a little strange and out of place. A careful observer might notice the tension in his stance and the restless energy that his imposed calm failed to hide.

He was also gently tapping his right heel and rubbing the thumb and forefinger of his metal hand together behind his back.

@MarshiestMallow@LightningMaiden