Eschatologist — Roleplayer Guild

1) Basic info:

    Name: Cecilia Thistle
    Team/occupation: CLRT
    Species: Human

    Age: 17
    Sex: Female

    Handedness: Right 

    Aura/Effects: Light green glow
    Symbol: Pair of stylized antelopes, rearing opposed
    Physical traits: As below.
    Misc traits: As below.
    Nickname(s): Her father called her Scout after a character in one of his favorite books, but she found the name, while acceptable and novel in a non-combat context, pretentious and strange sounding in a setting where she may very well end up being an actual scout. Has been called SiSi in the past, despises the appellation.

2) Appearence:

    Height: 5'4
    Weight: 140 pounds
    Eyes: Brown
    Skin color: Pale
    Face: Angular, more gaunt than average with prominent cheek bones. A small mouth with thin lips, and a wide smile. Small ears and an upturned nose bearing the evidence of being broken. High forehead, shallow chin. Wide eyes with long lashes.
    Hair: Cut just above the shoulder, in a perpetual tangle. Dark brown and dry, evidencing years of poor treatment.
    Physique: Short, lithe and spritely, she has little muscle mass. She has a dancer's build, with long legs and dexterous fingers. Poorly endowed, in her opinion, with little fat or excess weight. 
    Combat Outfit: Camouflaged trousers and long-sleeved shirt. A beret, colored a light green, when the mission is low intensity. The color patter of the camouflage changes depending on her deployment, being in possession of a wide index of surplus clothes. Plate carrier/helmet depending on mission parameters. Padded gloves and sturdy steel-toed boots. Additional gear worn depending on mission conditions.
    Casual Outfit:  Green and white striped dress, conservatively cut with short sleeves and a skirt that reaches her knees. Comfortable, well-worn running shoes. Little jewelry, what little she wears is of poor quality. Wears her green beret when outside. Winter wear includes thick trousers and a dark grey trench coat.

3) Characteristics:

    Background: Born to a common soldier, Cecilia had from a young age wanted to defend humanity from Grimm. More than half her life was spent without her father, him being on deployment hundreds of miles away from his family. Born to a working mother and without siblings, she spent her earliest years in uncomfortable community, constantly in the presence of other children at day-cares or other such services. She enrolled in school at a normal age, and her upbringing produced an outgoing young girl who found relative popularity among peers, and lived a happy early childhood exploring her myriad interests. When her father was home, she would hear [heavily embellished] stories from the front, and he imparted to her his human patriotism and strong desire to protect civilization. She became interested with her father's career, and after spending years foraging for information on soldiering and hunters enrolled in combat school, paid for by her grandparents, her family otherwise incapable of affording such advancement. She found some success at combat school, talented enough though cursed with a particularly weak aura and a marked incompetence at melee combat.

Three years ago, her father returned wounded, his legs broken beyond repair by Grimm, and through this grief and partially out of guilt for consuming her family's now limited funds in her education redoubled her efforts, shooting out into the top ranks of the school, high enough to be accepted into the most prestigious hunter academy in the world, Beacon.
    Personality: Brash. Curious. Well-organized and fastidious with [learned] military precision, Cecilia stands out from her peers. She has a very prominent dichotomy between her casual personality and her combat personality, learned again from time spent around the common soldier. She is work-shy and talkative when there is little work to do, listless and torpid when performing unimportant tasks. She is crass, occasionally offensive and largely irreverent, with a fondness for gallows humor and innuendo. She holds a small group of friends close, and sees no need to expand her social horizons beyond her score or so of close acquaintances. She loves to play games and entertain herself and others during any spare moment.

Her combat persona, as she labels it, appears when there is something she deems serious to do. Exacting. Precise. Absolutely serious. Rude, calm and entirely focused. She only has two speeds: quick time and dawdle, and the gulf between the two is vast. She has learned that slow is smooth and smooth is fast, and has learned to never rush herself, to take things at her maximum possible smooth speed whenever possible and to never overextend. 

She enjoys pressure, loves to face adversity and is proud and confident, swelling with patriotism and the high-minded values of freedom and safety, and holds her opinions and beliefs. She is pragmatic in her own endeavors, and highly idealistic when it comes to matters of grander importance. Her core values are freedom, success and rationality.
    Likes: Firearms. Firearms again. Victory. Iced Tea. Men in short shorts. The colors green and white. Horses. Large, wild, non-grimm animals. Competition 
    Dislikes: Swords. The delusional. Cats, dogs and rodents. Cowardice and betrayal. Incompetent commanders. Prejudice. Censorship. Buses. The color bright yellow.

4) Weapon

    Name: Selous
    Maker/Smith: Rhodes Armamanets produced the original design, but Cecilia has worked long hours improving the weapon and diversifying its combat applications/
    Type: Anti-Material-Bayonetted-Rifle, AMBR, she pronounces it Aim-Bar.
    Weapon Derivation: The Hecate II, mixed with older elephant guns
    Holstered/Sheathed Appearance: The barrel, thanks to leaps forward in transforming technology, telescopes, and the stock collapses. Is easily [if heavily] backpack-portable.
    Form 1: A 54.3 inch bolt-action rifle, with a semi-grip stock and a muzzle break. Equipped with a top-mounted, variable scope and optional bipod. Bayonet lug, long grip and collapsible stock lead to easy [if difficult-to-learn] short spear usage, though incorporation of the barrel as the haft leads to a strong incentive to point-parry, restricting options somewhat.
    Form 2: (if applicable)
    Form 3: (if applicable)
    Features/Capabilities: Chambered in .700 Perseus, capable of being loaded with a wide variety of rounds for a wide variety of uses. Extraordinarily large round with frightening kitetic force, designed to penetrate tough armor or thick auras at incredible ranges. Has difficulty with smaller targets with standard loads, contact-fuzed rounds or canister shot optional to ensure transmission of energy. Has a recoil-spreading function which limits firerate but allows for firing from the shoulder without damaging aura in the process.
    Planned/Possible Upgrades: Is currently being modified to take APFSD rounds or gyroject projectiles, but progress is slow without compromising other functionality. If she ever had the funds to procure additional barrels, they could be fitted to perform different combat roles.
    Notes: I wonder if people will get the naming trend...

5) Semblance:

    Name: Current working title is 'Doubletime', but Cecilia is trying to figure out a replacement due to the inaccuracy and possible operational confusion such a name imparts.
    Type: Psychic
    General description: Slows down perception of time by a variable factor, between 4 and 9 times. 14 was recorded once, but is a dangerous outlier.
    General limitations: Variable depending on conditions, only some of which are known to Cecelia. She has identified the slowdown increasing during periods of high stress, and the slowdown decreasing when she is fatigued or otherwise not at peak condition. Aura control is helping her combat this variability, but progress is slow.
    Visual effect: Her eyes shift from brown to striped on a green-white-green pattern
    Passive ability(x):  
    Active ability(x): It is an active ability, turned on and off entirely voluntarily. 

6) Combat info:

    Position/Class: Marksman/Reconnaissance
    Landing strategy: Slowing down her perception enough to be able to make a controlled landing, using handholds and knife-assisted slowdown
    Fighting style: Keeps her distance at all costs. Fires on the move when she has to, finds a hiding place or a vantage point when she can. When closed with, she uses her considerable speed afoot to disengage, assisted by a variety of lethal and non-lethal grenades to prevent pursuit or facilitate a quick elimination. Is at her best supporting close-combatants from afar.

7) Trivia:

    Relationships: Wounded father, working mother. Had a painful break up with her ex-boyfriend after she was accepted into beacon. Has several close friends with whom she keeps in regular online contact. Is allergic to strawberries, though does not know. Is strangely good at checkers. Voracious reader of military fiction, though as her knowledge of actual military operations increases her tolerance for inaccuracies in her light reading is dropping quickly. Enjoys camping.
    Notes:

Laurence wasn’t sure about his assignment. Or, at least, he wasn’t sure what he thought of it. He’d guarded folks before, that was sure, but never a prince. He wasn’t sure how it would work, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same as guarding some mayor or standing outside some noble’s tent. He was relieved when he was told that he’d be allowed to keep the sword, but was not looking forward to using it in the relative tightness of the castle. He made a mental note to procure an arming sword from a smith when he had the chance.

Laurence appreciated the quick pace leading up to the prince. He’d spent more of his life in castles than he wanted to think about [and less than he’d have wanted, being honest]. He’d seen the Hoffburgt a few times, though never been posted within its walls, and despite the fast pace his eyes darted around in a time-trained fashion burning pertinent geography into his mind. The location and slope of stairs, the number of wells, the number of troops, the slope of the thatch roofs and a hundred other small details. Halfway through his inspection he noted that such observations would likely be completely unnecessary, but he figured there was no harm in it, and took in what he could before he entered the keep proper. He turned a more keen eye on the hall, but didn’t manage to make any important observations: he could count the number of times he’d been in any feast hall on both hands, and he hadn’t been in one so large in the better part of a decade. He’d take a closer look later, memorize the ways in and out and other such precautions.

He found himself growing more and more nervous as he approached the prince’s door. His mind filled with possible outcomes, with a particular fixation on a gallows after some slight or incourtesy.  His nerves kept him silent and straight [an unfamiliar sensation: he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt nervous, but he supposed odd times bring odd sensations]. He remembered to bow a second after Terryn, and flushed with chagrin.

He listened eagerly to what Warren had to say. Laurence was eager to know more about such an accomplished fighter, curiosity mixing with respect and not a small amount of jealousy. He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with the man, and was looking forward to learning more about the man [and specifically about his swordsmanship] over the coming days. What Laurence heard was not what he expected: top courtesy, an answer that felt rehearsed and no doubt everything that was expected of an honest servant of the realm. Laurence was disappointed, though the bow and inklings of displeasure remedied the feeling, rekindling the curiosity at the apparently feigned performance.

Assuming it was his turn to speak, he began, forgetting to bow or remove his helmet or any other such courtesy, trying to determine how much of his foolhardy motivation he should tell. “My reasons are less patriotic, my Prince, though I’m happy ter be workin’ for the crown, so I am. Every man has to eat, and soldiering’s the only thing I know how ter do, so I see it. Not sure if that’s greed, but I reckon I ain’t one to say, considering.”.  Remembering to bow at the end, he did so, his head coming about level with the heads of his companions, as he stepped back into line, shifting the shield uncomfortably on his back.

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