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Chartreuse Tonnerre


Every Tonnerre Brave and Bold
Must Uphold Their Vows and Swear This Oath:
Purge the Vile Grimm and Smash the False Gods
By the Judgment of Thunder, Bring Down Flawed Laws
Know That Thine Sire Stands Upon Elysian Fields
For Tonerres May Die, But They Shall Never Yield.Chartreuse

Name
Chartreuse 'Char' Tonnerre

Age
17

Race
Human

Nationality
Mistrali

Physical Description
Chartreuse is a veritable mountain, and one that, if the youth himself is to be believed, is still growing. Standing at 7’2 and weighing just over 300 pounds, the man is an absolute beast of a beefcake, possessing a body that could put professional bodybuilders to shame. An aura of virility and authority exudes from him effortlessly, and every movement he makes has a gravity to it. Whether by the size of his body, the rugged handsomeness of his features, or the crushing intensity of his gaze, Chartreuse draws the gaze of others.

It’s a shame then, that the heroic silhouette he strikes is otherwise ruined by his more perverse predilections.

His Story
The lineage of Tonnerre was one that existed before the establishment of Mistral. Lead by the near-mythic individual now known to his descendants as the Sire, it was said that they were the ones that lead the charge down the high cliffs that humanity had been isolated to, tearing through hordes of Grimm in an era when Dust technology had not yet been refined. With force of will and hearts of steel, the Tonnerre served as shock troopers during the great pre-Mistral campaigns against the Grimm, and once the main roads connecting the pockets of humanity around the continent were established, were bequeathed titles and territory by the First King of Mistral. Noble heroes by nature and nurture, the warriors raised by the Tonnerre travelled far throughout the lands, ignoring the petty squabbles of the nobles and the vacuous machinations of the merchants. Was it their blood that infected them with a wanderlust and a desire to protect? Was it their inheritance and their training that pushed them towards it? Or was it the zeitgeist of the generations and the history that they were born into, that those of House Tonnerre risked their lives to protect the civilization they’ve helped create, even as they remained outside the politics that shaped such civilization.

It mattered not. Generations of errant knights lived and died, passing on their experiences and their martial arts unto the next. The Grimm continued to be pushed back, and the Kingdom continued to grow. And one day, centuries after they marched down those high cliffs and into the forests below, a wandering knight reached the sea.

Mistral, once a mere network of scattered communities, had become an empire whose lands could only be stopped by the oceans themselves.

And, knowing that his own country’s lands were secured, the knight made his vow and swore to defend not just the land of his birth, but the world in its entirety. Thus was the first Huntsman in Mistral born. Thus was the first Headmaster of Haven born.

Thus is the burden that rests upon Chartreuse’s broad shoulders; thus is the inheritance that he continues to struggle with. Like his cousins, like his siblings, like his father and mother and his extended family, there was no path for Chartreuse other than the path of Hunting, whether it be involved in the creation, maintenance, and improvement of weapons, the instruction and pedagogy of future warriors and guardians of humanity, or the bloody, violent, but well-reputed profession of a Huntsman. Training began at a young age, both physically and mentally, a curriculum of history, faith, and exercise prescribed by the current heads of House Tonnerre. He never minded it much, of course. The praise he received by doing his very best was comforting as a child, and the stories he heard of his ancestors and their feats were fascinating as well. Though the ceremonies performed and the prayers read had initially been boring, they too grounded Chartreuse as a kid, sharpened his understanding of the weight of the world and gave him greater appreciation for what he had now.

And really, as a child, isolated upon the great mountains bequeathed upon his family, with only his relatives as his playmates, Chartreuse wasn’t in any environment to think differently anyhow. He ate hearty meals, heard glorious stories, trained until his muscles tore, and slept ten hours a day, growing stronger and stronger, larger and larger.

Then, on his thirteenth birthday, Chartreuse was brought outside of his family grounds for the first time in his life, and encountered a world that blinded him with distractions and pleasures. Food that he had never even imagined was possible before. Games that could be played through black mirrors, guided by bottled lightning. And, above all, faunus! Humans who weren’t humans, and all the more interesting because of it! Certainly, he was not ignorant to the advances of the world, but he was certainly sheltered, and to experience it all firsthand colored his preconception of the world in an even more colorful manner.

By his fourteenth birthday, Chartreuse had acclimated to his Semblance, crafted his own weapon, and learned the schedule of every patroller within his family’s grounds. Then, after pilfering his parents’ wallets and digging up his own holiday savings, he ran away from home. Wanderlust was in the blood of the Tonnerre, after all, and though most sated their desires with their adventures after becoming Huntsmen, Mistral was too attractive of a jewel for Chartreuse to let go of.

Three years passed as he indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, drunk on the ecstasy of freedom. He traversed the great roads, delved into verdant abyss, and climbed to the tallest peaks. He slew the Grimm he had been primed to slay, he watched the movies he was never meant to watch, and he made friends and bed fellows out of travelling strangers. Whether in ramshackle villages or sprawling metropolises, Chartreuse enjoyed it all, until one day, he too came across the end of his world, the place where the land fell into the oceans.

The young man, scarred and sated by his pilgrimage, knelt to the shore, brought the saltwater to his face, and breathed deeply the myriad scents.

One month later, he returned to House Tonnerre’s territories, unkempt and impure, but with eyes as bright as the lightning’s flash. And after enduring his parents’ scoldings, pursued what he was always destined to pursue.

A Huntsman’s education at Haven Academy.

Chartreuse Tonnerre, scion of House Tonnerre, is a pious hedonist who protects the world so he may enjoy it.


Semblance
Heliocentrism
The Semblance of orbit and gravitational pull, Chartreuse’s Heliocentrism places him in the center of the universe and forces all else to either orbit around him or be pulled into his fiery form. Within a maximum range of two hundred meters, he can imbue anything with his Aura, impressing upon them a ‘pulling’ or ‘swinging’ effect that causes them to be drawn towards him or spin around him. The smaller and closer the imbued subject, the more potent the effect, with a range of twenty meters being the distance where such forced movements become sudden enough and powerful enough to jolt Ursas around like ragdolls.

And of course, there are more than a few creative ways to utilize such Semblance.

Weapon
One Last Dance
Twinned weapons crafted of silvery steel embossed with gold, One Last Dance is a three-form weapon that takes full advantage of Chartreuse’s Semblance to serve as both close-range and long-range threats. In Cross Form, One Last Dance can be used as massive, one-meter long throwing stars, hunks of metal propelled by Aura-boosted strength and augmented with a variety of Dust cartridges to produce elemental effects. Greatsword Form, activated by pressing a special trigger and swinging both Crosses outwards, converts One Last Dance into a set of zweihanders instead, capable of delivering massive, arcing strikes that could slice clean through Grimm even without the explosive force generated from Combustion Dust. Finally, Judgement Form is realized through connecting both zweihanders together, creating a double-sided blade that, through Chartreuse’s Heliocentrism, becomes a four-meter long whirling saw of death.

Impractical in most cases, but the perfect solution to threats in those very specific cases.

Fighting Style
Supremely confident in his close combat prowess, he charges head-long into battle, utilizing his Semblance to displace smallfry that only serve to slow him down while using his weapon to tear through immediate threats in his vicinity. The combination of his brute strength, the design of his weapon, and his Semblance grants Chartreuse a maximum murder-range of two hundred meters, more than enough to deal with most flying Grimm, and when he hits his stride, the young lion becomes a tornado of death, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

In other words? Stand in the path of the tempest and he will fuck you up.

Intangibles
Chartreuse is a Huntsman suited for war and open spaces. Though he looks the part of a noble barbarian and can crush a Beowolf's skull between his thighs, to restrain himself to only close combat is to seal away his most terrifying attacks. In that same vein, especially due to his years of isolation and solo training, there is not a single speck of teamwork in Chartreuse's mind, and he adhere's to a very simple rule whenever he needs to work with someone else: he will take care of one portion, so his team can take care of the other portions.

Laws and rules to Chartreuse are suggestions and recommendations, rather than things that absolutely must be upheld. Just as how his ancestors ignored human conflicts to focus solely on the extermination of Grimm, he too upholds his own vows and remains true to his own oaths. If there is something that he sees is wrong, he will strike it down, bureaucracy be damned. And if that means becoming an outlaw? He had already spent three years on the road, and found that life quite pleasant.

Chartreuse is a very virile individual, filled with hormones and possessing a paradoxically saintly and savage charm. His views on relationships and sex are a good more open than others, and when it comes to those he's attracted to...well, there's no reason to not go for it. Thankfully, he practices safe sex.

Some Mood Music: [x][x][x]

@Rune_Alchemist

Coinage: 8 Silver, 5 Copper
The (shredded) clothing on his back.
A fur cloak.
Untanned boar skin.
Leather Belt
Knight's Shield
Knight's Dagger
Knight's Longsword
Dwarf's Polearm
Rope
Some preserved food
    Enough for two people to last a few days.
Roll of what seemed to be a mat of thick fur, likely for sleeping on
    Comfortable, but only one.
A heavy looking fur/cloth blanket.
    Cozy, warm and heavy. Good for sleeping in colder climates.
Communication horn
    Made from bone, hollow and likely used for communication.
A small pot and a ladle
Frozen canteen of water
Map of the Under roads.
    A map detailing some routes used by the Dwarves and Shadow Elves to travel in their subterranean homes. Its not entirely complete, but it at least shows the routes to the two most notable settlements and several other places of note. Unless you travel off the paths, you probably won’t get lost.

Sorcha’s murmured assessment of the blades made sense for Isidore. Certainly a better material than Dirithen steel for Augusta then, if such weapons were able to be attuned more easily with magic too. The man took one of the blades himself, pinching the edge and slowly applying more and more strength to it, just to see how well they flexed. Soft as they were, he could expect to cleave through them in a single swing, perhaps. In which case, how could he maneuver an Urutha swordsman into such a position, when their combat style will doubtlessly focus on evasion and footwork to make up for the deficiencies in their material?

He tabled such simulations in the same movement that saw the blade returned to the rack, turning his attentions to Sorcha directly.

“I would love to collect.” Isidore responded, stepping closer to the lady knight. “And as for my payment, it’ll be you.” His eyes slid from one corner of the dimly-lit armory to another, before returning his gaze back upon her. “But a private dinner and an evening without obligations would be more appropriate for that.” He unslung his halberd from his shoulder, one hand massaging, loosening the muscles of his neck.

“So, for now, fight me.”

It was one thing to witness it from a distance, but quite another to experience it himself. If Rullphana were one of the strongest mages across the realm, then Sorcha may very likely be one of the strongest blademages too, possessing monstrous physical capability without looking the part.

“And don’t hold back." A thin smile to hide the rising anxiety that threatened to seep out from the cracks of his outward calm. "I won’t die so long as you don’t strike to kill twice.”

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