Fallenreaper

Natrelmon: Reckoning [Creature Capture]

▀▄▀▄▀▄ Mαʅʅσɾყ ▄▀▄▀▄▀

Time, IC Day: Late Morning, Day 1
Location: Toran, within the city

---

Mallory reached for her shoes the organizer. She slipped off her meu slippers then placed her feet into her shoes, tapping the toes against the wooden floor twice to ensure they were secure. The girl smiled when she thought about the Toran’s age-old superstition about tracking ‘bad luck’ into the house from your shoes. For years, it was still a tradition in some homes to remove them and wear slippers inside. Others no longer practiced it.

She just figured her mom enjoyed she could limit the mud to one room without being weird, unlike back in Lifan. Depression washed over Mallory at remembering her old life. The move had brought a lot of changes in the last few years, from adjusting to a new culture and home to now her voyage ahead of her.

The fear of leaving her family behind while confronting the unknown left her chest tight with her anxiety.

Abruptly a huge white shape pressed its cold body against her. The chill raced up Mallory’s skin as her eyes glanced to the side. There stood her mother’s Fureishund named Pupsicle. It turned out her mother preferred cute names during her teenage years.

The dog-like Natrelmon was almost two foot shorter than herself, with see-through ice coating the head, belly, back, and legs like armor. He leaned against her with what he thought to be a comforting gesture while his droopy muzzle panted out an icy mist. Mallory had to admit he was adorable. She also was surprised he didn’t jab her with the long, sharp icicles protruding from the back of his legs.

Gently Mallory scratched Pupsicle underneath his right floppy ear. His tail gave a hard smack against her hip when it wagged, nearly knocking her down from his excitement.

“Owww,” She complained causing Pupsicle to whine in apology.

The girl knew her mother kept the natrelmon out of his relic purely because they were close, the Fureishund being her mother’s starter during her own Rites. There wasn’t a single memory Mallory didn’t have as a child which didn’t include this monster of a natrelmon being around. Though like some well trained Natrelmon, Pupsicle put his trainer’s desires first.

After few more scratches behind the ear, Mallory decided to bid him farewell, “I’m going to miss you too boy. Keep mom safe and company until I get back, deal?”

Pupsicle just gave her a doggish grin before he trotted off toward the kitchen. Her eyes followed him until he disappeared from sight, the clanking of dishes slowly stopped. Deep inside, Mallory knew her mother had been busy distracting herself. It gave the tamer enough time to leave without seeing her mother's sorrow being masked with false happiness.

She paused long enough to rub some warmth into her side, hip and leg where Pupsicle had pressed against her. Hoping outside wasn’t too cool, Mallory glanced to check she still had her bag. Another memory filled her as she let out a soft chuckle and headed out.

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Mallory rushed down the stone steps and turned into the flowing crowds. Her unusual height allowed her to see over most of the people's heads. The activity was normal because she lived just outside one of the busiest areas in Toran: the marketplace. A few people, with the assistance of their various natrelmon, decorated the streets. Paper lanterns hung on strings and lucky tags were placed on the doors. Her peripheral vision spotted a small team of men practicing their routine. They used poles to wave a paper Seiryu, the legendary natrelmon, in the air as gracefully as they could.

She thought they did a fairly good job imitating a living breathing natrelmon, but it could never match the real thing.

Her eyes were peeled for Xander while her senses were immediately assaulted by the street vendors smells. They were busy preparing for tonight, from various spicy and rice noodles to skewered meat being charred. Her favorite was the deep-fried wheat snacks, coated with a light dusting of sugar. Her mouth began to water while she moved closer.

A clanking of a cart caused her to jerk to the side and turn down a semi-dark alleyway between two buildings, closing in on the busy scene at the other end. Behind her, the crowd parting for an old man and his Bovent.

Once in the alley, her finger tapped her bracelet and summoned out Gwisin. A dark, cloaked natrelmon with red stains oozed from the relic. A crown of spikes protruded from his shoulders to the back of his head, adding to his intimidating presence. Gwisin was only an inch taller than herself as he began to to follow her.

Unlike most people, she felt comfort in the darkness. When they exited out, Mallory’s eyes squinted and she raised a hand to shade them.

A voice caused her to stop abruptly.

“Yeah, kiddo. Heading to start your Rites?”

Her right leg literally stopped in midair, her head twisted toward the origins of voice. Her father, a fellow with the same height and willowy built stood behind a wooden stand. His pale blue eyes were warm in pride while his smile wrinkled his aged face, his front covered with an apron. Near the stand’s base laid Ajax, her father’s Panzer, basking in the few rays of direct sunlight. The panther-like natrelmon lazily glanced in Mallory’s direction before giving her the cold shoulder despite being a grass and light type.

“Actually,” Mallory started to form her thoughts into words, pausing a moment to calm her racing heart.

“I was heading to the wilds. I need to capture some natrelmon before I start, but I need to find Xander first. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

Though it sounded better in her head, her tongue tried to tangle itself and try to skip a few words. It forced her to slow down as she was speaking.

Her father nodded, then shrugged, “Nope, I’m sorry but I haven’t seen him. Have you eaten today or did you rush out of the house before your mom got you to wait another year?”

Mallory’s silence spoke louder than her words ever could. It screamed an obvious yes causing her father to sigh, then moved to a boiling stock pot. It shimmered over a small flame burning on top of cut stone. A small Emleaf sat nearby and watched it eagerly.

Mallory wasn’t surprised the little natrelmon might’ve been the source of the flames.

He stirred the chicken broth. She caught the scent of chicken, scallions, vegetables and various herbs she knew by heart after watching him for years. While both her parents could cook, Mallory’s only talent in cook was burning water. Not even her books could explain how that was possible.

After a few moments, her father scooped out two small bowls then placed them on the stand. He also passed her two sets of chopsticks to slurp the chicken and rice noodle soup. In addtion, he added two long strips of deep-fried dough.

“One of each is for you, the rest is for Xander. I’m pretty sure that boy will smell it and come right to you.”

“Thanks,” Mallory smiled as she hesitated in collecting her free meals.

“This is my way of wishing you good luck on your trip. While your mother might be overprotective, I’m pride you’re taking this first step.”

Careful not to spill the soup or the dough sticks, she leaned across the counter to hug her father. The old man tightly wrapped his arms about her and returned the embrace. Mallory retreated back as she juggled the food in her hands before seeking out Xander. In the back of her mind, she knew if he didn’t show up soon she had the okay eat it all herself. She couldn't let it go to waste after all.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

I have no idea how this topic got started or honestly want to know, but I think it's time for a topic change.

HEY, LOOK PUPPY!

Natrelmon: Reckoning [Creature Capture]

Name: Mallory Starr
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Appearance:

HT: 5’11”
WT: 185 lbs.
Mallory is often described as nerdy and plain in appearance. The only notable trait that she did inherit was her unusual height, even if her figure is willowy. Her face is a soft oval with smokey blue eyes hidden under large, rounded glasses. She braids her sandy blond hair into a single ponytail, her bangs allowed to run in rampant wisps at the sides. It seems she rarely gets enough sun because her skin is rather pale.

Her outfits lean on the practical side. She doesn’t really see how anyone could move in a dress and prefers slightly baggy cargo pants with tons of pockets. This is held up by a green and brown camouflage belt. Her tops are solid tee-shirts that fit her measurements pretty well without constricting her blood veins. It doesn’t help she’s a bit top heavy in her chest area but hides it underneath her large hiking coat.

When traveling, she carries a medium size backpack across her shoulder. It holds her numerous books like a ‘Basic Tamer’s Guide to Natrelmons’ and ‘Mage Magic 101’. From these short instructions, she decided her profession on. She also has a spare set of glasses if her first pair ever gets broken.

Hometown: Toran
Personality:

Mallory is responsible and mature for her age, usually using her head before she acts. Her nose is usually stuck in a book but doesn’t make her any less aware of her surroundings. She had trouble socially interaction since she prefers the security of her own head. Books bring her a special type of joy because she enjoys other people’s imaginations and ideas, feeling it easier to handle than social interactions. Camping and related activities are not her favorite past time.

Relic Description: Attached to her wrist is a pendulum bracelet with a gem for each Natrelmon, more become added as she needs them. Those that aren’t in use are placed in a safe place in her backpack. Each one is assigned a color to enable easy identification.

Starting Natrelmon: [Gwisin] Olena - Dark/Ghost Type
Starting Spell Schools: Abjuration and Invocation

History:

Her parents moved to Toran from Lifan. That over two years ago, their reasoning was for a change of scenery and because she was a minor there little fighting it. Thankfully there was a magic school in Toran as she learned to adjust to the cultural differences. Due to her ignorance of Xander’s reputation, she didn’t really consider running the other way when they met on the first day at her new school. If she knew dealing with him would become a headache, she might’ve bolted to the other side of town.

She met her first Natrelmon after being curious about an abandoned alleyway in the city, a place that was rumored to be haunted. After being nearly scared to death, the culprit revealed itself to be nothing more than an Olena. She wasn’t sure if it approved of her fear or the fact she could see it, but it quickly took to following her around. This lead to a crazy idea. If she couldn’t bring out the best in herself, maybe as a tamer she could do that for the Natrelmon she caught.

Professions: Mage and Tamer
Noteworthy Skills:

+ [Mallory Starr] +

+ Party Natrelmon +
1) Gwisin [Elwis] - [M] - [15] - [3375] (Dark/Ghost/Poison type)
2) Bool [Flabara] - [F] - [10] - [1000] (Fire/Poison type)

Money: [17000] N
Spell Schools:
- Rank [III] [Abjuration] - [21600]
- Rank [III] [Invocation] - [21600]

Spells:

Abjurer

Innate Abilities:

Splendid Conjury
As advanced practitioners of protective magic, an Abjurer's Walls are naturally stronger than those of their non-abjurer counterparts. The Abjurer's Wall and Encompassing Wall spells get an additional [Rank / 2] uses.

Rebuke
The Abjurer is able to channel for one exchange while within [Rank] feet of a barrier, absorbing it into themselves. Then, the Abjurer's magic will naturally repair the barrier over the course of five exchanges. Then, after it is repaired, the Abjurer may instantly redeploy the wall anywhere within [Rank] feet of themselves or their Natrelmon, following the usual wall rules.

The Abjurer can choose to deploy the wall before it is repaired, causing it to retain the number of hits taken before it was absorbed.

All Abjuration spells are invoked verbally and Wall spells require a somatic (movement) component to indicate where they will be placed.

Spells

Rank I- Chant of Mending

details

The Abjurer chants, channeling a spell for up to ten exchanges that can target up to [Rank/2] (rounded up) Humans or Natrelmon, healing them for 1% of their maximum health at the beginning of each exchange. Whenever Chant of Mending heals a target, the healing on that target increases by an additional 2% of their maximum health, up to a maximum of [Rank]%. This channel concludes at the end of 10 exchanges. Chant of Mending has a cooldown of one exchange.

At Rank III, Chant of Mending can be adapted to remove stacks of Venom at a rate of [Rank] per exchange.

Rank II- Effulgent Burst

details

The Abjurer marks an area five feet in radius. At the beginning of the next exchange, the marked area is hit by a pillar of light that stuns all enemies within it for 1 second.

Rank III-Blinding Radiance

details

Blind creates an extremely intense burst of light within 10 feet of the Restoration Mage or their Natrelmon. The burst is 5 feet in radius and blinds all enemies hit for 1 second.

Invocation

Innate Abilities:

Prismatic Seal

Whenever an enemy trainer or Natrelmon is affected by an Invocation spell, they gain a stack of Prismatic Seal.

Once per battle, the Invoker may consume [X] stacks of Prismatic Seal when they affect an enemy with an Invocation spell, where [X] is the Rank of a chosen School of Magic. For the next [X] exchanges, the individual is unable to use that School of magic.

When an enemy Natrelmon reaches five stacks of Prismatic Seal, the next time they are affected by an Invocation spell they are rooted for two exchanges. Receiving any damage will break this root.

Prestidigitation

At Rank I, the Invoker can use minor illusions out of combat for various purposes.

The illusions can be detected by mages of an equal or higher rank than the Invoker (in any school), except at Rank X in which case they must also be an Invoker.

Spells

Rank I - Shimmering Bolt

details

The Invoker fires a bolt of arcane energy that deals minor damage but ignores resistances and weaknesses.

Shimmering Bolts that pass through an Invoker’s Veil at any point retain its effects even when they leave.

If Shimmering Bolt passes through an Entropic Seal, it is not directly affected, but will instead apply the effect of Entropic Seal to any projectile that it comes into contact with.

Rank II - Inundate

details

The Invoker channels for up to [Rank] exchanges, gathering arcane power and saturating both themselves and everything in a [5 + [Rank]] foot radius with it. The next spell (must be equal to or lower than the Rank of Invocation) the Invoker casts (from any School) deals 25% more damage for each exchange spent channeling it, and any persistent effects in the area (such as Celestial Curtain or Invoker's Veil) are maintained during and persist for an additional X exchanges, where X is the number of exchanges channeled. Each instance of magic can only benefit from Inundate once.

Rank III - Celestial Curtain

details

The Invoker chooses to Enhance or Diminish, and creates an Arcane Sigil in the form of a [Rank * 2] foot long line. The sigil creates a wall of energy that distorts the nature of magic that passes through it, depending on which mode was chosen.

Enhance allows the projectile to continue for an additional [5 + [Rank]] feet beyond its normal limits.

Diminish forces the projectile to simply cease to exist after traveling 10 feet beyond the sigil.

When an enemy's spells pass through Celestial Curtain, they gain a stack of Prismatic Seal.

Celestial Curtain lasts for three exchanges.

Gifts:
Medium- Can see ghosts, even when they are invisible.

Items:
6 F Relics
3 E Relics
3 D Relics
1 C Relics

Profession:
- Rank [I] [Mage] - [0]
- Rank [I] [Tamer] - [0]

Information:
None

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Holy Cow! A Hound post!

@Dedonus

Shh, you might scare him away!

Mass Effect: Sinless

Vellios Malkai

Name: Vellios Malkai
Race: Turian
Gender: Male
Class: Soldier
Age: 45 Earth years
Homeworld: Palaven (off the planet in a shuttle around obit)

Appearance:

Like most Turian, his carapace is dark in color. It’s almost a midnight dark because the surface greedily absorbs all light that touches it, diminishing any glossy shine. His stature is rather thin when compared to healthier specimens of his race. He suffered through malnutrition in his youth and favored speed rather than muscle building, retaining that reedy appearance. Those who believe he’s able to be snapped easily will find themselves sorely mistaken since he enjoys close combat.

His height is at 6’2“ enabling him to stand eye to eye with other turian males. His ice blue irises give off an aura of sharpness and chill, especially when he is in a darker mood. Along the outside are various scars. They break the perfection with their shades of greys, the older ones being lighter in color. A heavy one nearly severed his mandible when he took a close-range shot from a handgun. It has long since healed over the years.

The turian’s face has the traditional Palaven markings, consisting of a single stroke across the nose and cheeks, the tail on the cheeks followed partway to the mandible. Its ink is the same shade as his eyes, enabling it to be distinguished on the darker carapace. Its pristine shapes are also marred by minor facial scars. Around his neck area are numerous scar tissue where it appears something was inserted into his skin around the neck.

Psychological Profile:

Vellios has a way with words, using them to disarm or provoke individuals he meets. From their interactions, he can understand them a bit better. Usually, he will take the road with least resistance and get along with others. The main reason is that he has learned that surviving alone is very difficult and understand he can’t always do what he wants to. Not without making his life harder. Often he’s found with a cocky smile or subject to share with those willing to interact with him. He’s willing to roll with the sarcastic quips or insults, even teasing back.

With the fairer gender, he tends to flirt and tease. If anyone shows interest, he’s got no issues with one night stands and no strings attached. When he does cross a boundary, he will make a point never to cross it again. Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn. A lesson he’s learned a few times.

Patience is a quality he has trained himself to master. It has helped him to remain calm and safe in dire times of his life, striking when it’s best. He doesn’t have unlimited patience, but it’s still better than most.

Vellios is attracted to danger and violence, it’s something he finds familiarity in. In times of calm, he finds himself restless and sometimes on edge. His mind sometimes trying to lock him inside. During these times, he will seek out any distractions to avoid it. It's a big motivation to become rather social with others.

By nature, Vellios’ motivations are self-centered. Interesting enough, it usually brings more positive aftermath than negative. When he helps someone, it’s because there’s something he gains from it. Either an ally, knowledge or purely to see them smile. Usually, when he breaks the rules, it’s because he doesn’t give a shit about the fallout.

When he forges a bond with an individual, he can be overprotective. With so much loss in his history, he fears losing those he becomes close to. He will never admit it and even after the loss, he will heal from it. However, it usually takes alcohol to numb it first.

Equipment:

Since his time with mercs, he has learned a few could have some sticky fingers. In order to be able to retrieve his stuff and discourage theft, he has set up some precautions. He has deep knowledge of each gun, from how it feels in his talons to its settings at a glance. A small pattern is scratched into the bottom of the handles that could be found through touch. This is all of his stuff, but it will not always be on his person.

Weapons:

Weapons

• Shotgun- Scimitar (Elkoss Combine)
• Pistol- Karpov (Rosenkov Materials)
• Assault Rifle- M8 Avenger (Elkoss Combine)
• Sniper Rifle- Volkov (Rosenkov Materials)
  Omni Tool: Logic Arrest Tool produced by Ariake Technologies
• Flashlight
• Scanner
• Repairing items
• Dispensing medi-gel
• Programming and hacking- (he knows how to apply them but Serena often has to instruct his sorry ass.)
• Camera
• Video, audio, and holographic communication
• Downloading and playing video games
• Converting items into omni-gel
• Manufacturing objects in real time
• Omni-blade
  Ammo Types
• Cryo
• Disruptor
• Shredder
• Grenades
• Smoke Grenades- has about 4 currently on him, and about 7 in storage.
  Armor
• Light Armor- Survivor Armor produced by Delvon Industries (military issued and paid for by service)
• Heavy Armor- Colossus Armor produced by Kassa Fabrication (saved up for 2-3 years)

Additional Items

• 2 Short range knives for melee combat

Skills:

• Fitness
• Marksmanship
• Fortitude
• Military training: Ability to delay shock from wounds with adrenaline, keep calm in extreme conditions, increased reflexes and speed dominate, etc.

Abilities:

• Adrenaline Rush
• Ballistic Blades (with Explosion function optional)
• Concussion Shot
• Defense Matrix (Given and programmed by Serena)
• Cain Trip Mines

Bio:

Liana Malkai, a former military soldier, left her homeworld. Vellios was born on a turian frigate going from a colony planet to Palaven. During much of his life, all he could remember is being a nomad. Their daily lives hopped from one ship to the next, following his mother’s freelancing career. Most of her jobs connected to the Hierarchy because they paid the best.

In his youth, he grew up on his mother’s tales about his father. The turian was an idol in Vellios’ childish eyes. These ideas would be short-lived when he learned the truth.

It was a month before his 11th birthday when the ship they were on came under siege by pirates. His mother and several crewmates were taken prisoner while he stowed away. After an hour or two, his concern for his mother caused him to go against his best judgment. When he found them, they were held at gunpoint and his mother being first on the execution list. Like many strong headed children his age, common sense flew out the window when Vellios attempted to interfere.

In a recruitment trial, the turian pirate captain, Syberus, ordered him to kill his mother. When he refused, his mother impaled herself on his blade and ended her life in order to spare him. It left Vellios shaken as Syberus ordered him taken onboard the Haides.

For four years, Haides showed him a world where only the strong survived. Those who failed to become cold, kill without guilt or be quick on their feet often found themselves becoming victims of older crew members. Usually dying shortly afterward. The captain seemed to single him out for lessons on how to progress in the ship’s rank.

One event stuck with him for a long time. He connected with a younger, fragile Batarian boy about two years aboard the ship. He had stopped the Batarian’s near death by tossing himself into an aggressor then leading the short-fused Turian away. When Vellios’ actions were discovered, they were both tossed into the brig for punishment. They would be given food on the condition one of them killed the other. His friend was the weaker of the pair, forcing Vellios to end his friend’s life.

“The weak have no place in the world save for reminding us of our strength.” The Captain’s words echoed in his head when Vellios’ punishment was finally over.

After being stuck in the lifestyle for four years, Vellios began to absorb it into his attitude and personality. Fueled by the desire to kill the Captain, he gradually rose up the ranks. He killed numerous times on the ships they plundered. He developed a taste for blood, but he still held his own morals. His reputation grew despite this even when he fought against larger foes.

It was only a matter of time before someone caught up to the pirates.

One night they left port and sailed into space, a lazy drift. In the silence, a mercenary ship descended on them. Fire, blood, and chaos erupted on the decks when the first gunshot was fired. Vellios rushed through the mayhem in his search for a way out, only to stumble onto Syberus wounded during a gunfight. Vellios couldn't help but take advantage of the situation. With Syberus’ dying breath, he revealed a horrible truth.

As the words rattled in his brain, Vellios fled to one part of the ship he knew well. There was a small shuttle inside that he only learned the basics on, but gave him a chance to survive. As he ducked into the pilot’s seat, his eyes glimpsed a familiar Krogan rush into the hallway leading to the Captain Quarters.

Hours passed into days when his shuttle ran out of power and food, leaving Vellios to conserve his energy with sleep. A scavenger ship ended up finding the stranded shuttle. They hauled him in, examined him and returned to Palaven for better medical attention. He was placed into therapy then the orphanage shortly afterward.

He was 18 when he joined the military after his therapist cleared him for service. Vellios adjusted well to the harsh training, putting his lessons from Haides to better use. When his training ended, he was assigned to the 6th Legion and became involved in the Relay 314 Incident. They were forced to retreat when the Second Alliance Fleet arrived.

Over the next 14 years, he ended up building a career within the military. He met his wife through the communications department and eventually they were engaged and married at 21. A few years later his children, Tiberian and Kilia, were born about a year apart from each other. They all settled on Gothis, a turian colony.

He was on military leave for his son’s 7th birthday when his past came knocking. A bloody message was printed on the wall: You killed Syberus. He rushed up the housing unit’s stairs to find his family dead, murdered in a single room. A part of him shattered that night.

He turned 33 when he tossed himself back into the military in order to distract himself from the pain. Vellios’ accomplishments drew his superior’s attention who placed him into the Spectre program. He was one among numerous candidates from other Legions, Fleets and Marine Divisions.

After the few initiation tests, Vellios was assigned to a Spectre, Trominus Yinso, for observation during a mission. While the actual events are classified, it was clear he had the potential to become a Spectre. However, there were issues when it came to putting his personal agenda aside. This flaw disqualified him instantly.

After that mission, Vellios felt his nightmares edge away. He was unsure if he was healing or simply moving on. His failure at the Spectre program pushed him to withdraw from the military and find a more suitable career.

For the next three years, he spent his time as a mercenary where he met and became a protective figure towards Selena Mathews. She was the closest he had to family. They later joined the Borealis, a rag-tag group of merc in a broken down disaster of a ship. Three good years passed before Vellios got a holovid informing him of a friend in trouble and a threat to his new family.

That’s when he simply vanished off the radar.

It took him years to dug up the courage to connect with Serena again. It was after he discovered that the Borealis crew had disbanded and scattered to their own devices. The reunion resulted in her smacking him a few times then relieved he was alive. She went home to San Pedro Sula, Honduras to help her community. He couldn't follow her. They parted on good terms. He knew she wanted to fix him, but Vellios knew he was broken too long to ever be fully fixed.

For the remaining years, he freelanced doing odd jobs around Omega. This place felt more like home than any place he had been in. Maybe it was because of the violence and criminals roaming on it or it reminded him of better times.

Strengths:

Close-Combat: Vellios thrives on getting up close and personal with his targets using his speed to limit the taken damage. Unless you use a gun or have similar talent in combat, it can be difficult to keep up with him.

Adapting to a situation- Vellios’ life has been filled with the need to adapt. From fixing himself up to following instructions over how to fix the engine, he is able to learn a wide range of basic skills to help him to survive. This also means while he’s a Jack of Trades, he is a limited master of those he focuses on.

Determined- Vellios will do whatever it takes to accomplish a goal he’s set for himself or given to him. Even if it means risking his life.

Charismatic- He’s known to be both persuasive and intimating, but either way he’s very social. Some don’t realize he suffers from mental scars as he hides them well. At least until he trusts the others wouldn’t leave him to out dry. When he feels it’s necessary, he can talk himself out of a rough spot most the time.

Understanding dark things- Vellios isn’t a saint. He doesn’t even pretend to be one when it comes to his past, a fact he will be blunt about it when he is asked. This allows him to understand others with similar issues and he uses it to prove there are bigger monsters out there than them. It doesn’t always work.

Weaknesses:

Strength- Vellios isn’t the strongest around. He prefers speed and stamina, so don’t expect him to try to outmuscle the classic brick wall known as a Krogan. It’s just not happening. Instead, he will use less fair means to outwit his opponent.

Traumatic Past- Vellios’ history is filled with loss and pain, leaving scars that never fully heal. While he has learned to coop better, there are situations where his trauma could bring his survival instincts into the surface. Most wonder why he would still choose a life of violence and pain, but it's something he finds comfort in. It's all he knows will never change.

Alcohol- Vellios has an addiction to drinking. He gets a bit moody when he's been off the stuff for a long time, like weeks at a time.

Risk Taker- It’s pretty obvious from those that have encountered him that Vellios doesn’t value his own safety. If there’s a risky job short of guarantee suicide, he’ll be among the first to volunteer for it. This is likely to feed his adrenaline needs.


Misc:

Vellios keeps a chess piece, with a combat VI for his suit, as a memento from Selena. It is mostly cosmetic with her voice replacing the original VI's, including one feature designed to shut him down should his PSTD become out of control. If he ever finds anyone that is able to play chess, he will end up dragging them into a game whenever he gets a chance.

Vellios’ things hold a moving picture of his family as a memory of his loss. In the past, he used to believe anything he became attached to would wither and die. Selena’s connection has proven to him otherwise.

He does not like living and breathing Varren, purely due to the fact the first mate bred war Varren then let them run rampant throughout the ship. Ever since Vellios becomes tense around them with his blade on hand. It's best not to leave a cherished Varren alone with him.

Dialogue Color: RosyBrown

Mass Effect: Sinless

I don’t think Amaranth plopped up a Discord server yet, so here’s a link:

discord.gg/TMyx5jh

I’ll tell her to add it onto the OOC.

@Scrub Mage

Do we need to wait until we're accepted to join it? I'm asking since I personally like checking things over a character through Discord rather than pms or over the OC. It gets things done faster, but I also don't want to invade if I'm not allowed. XD

Mass Effect: Sinless

I just hope we get a nice spread of species and classes and personalities!

@Amaranth

I'm sure we will. ^-^ I spotted a lot of old friends I've played with looking on this thread and they always put out some quality and interesting characters.

Mass Effect: Sinless

I am honestly very, very tempted to bring Hazan back. Also tempted to make someone else that shares his traits of being almost annoyingly apologetic to everyone, a tremendous drunkard and a crack shot with a sniper rifle.

@DJAtomika

I might bring Vellios or Ryria, though the latter would be harder.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Hunting with Wolves: Part 2

Location: Zion National Park, Utah. Nearly 2 hours and a half outside of Nevada.
Time: Evening, month after the HoH attack.

---

The sun lowered itself beyond the horizon. Benjamin’s eyes caught the landscape drastically change into a dimmer doppelganger of itself, the blood-red rays faded to purple. The shrubbery and wispy trees dotted the valley between the towering cliffs, their sides naturally cradled the earth between them. Dark shadows rose into their assigned place when the sun finally vanished.

Their prey was not built to be nocturnal.

In a wicked motion, Benjamin’s black lips curled into a wolfish smile. His nostrils flared to catch the fear staining the breeze blowing past him. Another adrenaline bolted into his head, leaving a buzzing and encouraging rush at his skull’s back. His paws found the ground then pushed himself forward with the energy at a faster pace. Instinctively his eyes glanced to find Duff. The older wolf seemed nearly as drunk as he felt, a show of eagerness in his canine teeth glistened in the night.

His golden eyes returned to the front once more. He loved this moment in the hunt. The sensation of his tongue rolled at the corner of his snout, wind pulled past his fur and his muscles coiled underneath his fur. Energy rippled off each muscle as he became a golden blur among the scenery.

A few meters out, their gait slowed. This noses pointed to the air for their prey’s location. Among the rock structures stood the big horned sheep, their figures huddle close and pawed nervously at the ground. Nostrils filtered the air for hidden predators.

Benjamin snickered inwardly. They wouldn’t find any because the wolf pair were downwind. Duff snorted then jerked his head to the side, indicating Benjamin’s part in driving the sheep. Seriousness edged into his lax body language as he slinked off to the high ground. Duff trotted into out of sight behind a formation.

Meanwhile, Benjamin climbed higher. He was the aggravator. His job was simple: he scattered the sheep and drove them toward Duff, who would kill the weakest. It entitled the grisly old wolf to eat first, but Benjamin figured the old ass needed it more.

Slowly the younger werewolf scaled into the higher ground where the narrow breeze caught his smell and dragged to the prey. It worked like a charm.

The moment they scented him, their ears perked up and noses inhaled the information. Fear purged their common sense causing them to huddle closer. The younger males began to retreat slightly while they bleated in warning. Older rams lowered their head threateningly, their spindly legs braced their bulky body against the threat. They weren’t scared enough.

Benjamin growled in frustration. He paced from right then back to the left, eyeballing the distance from the group’s edge. The sheep’s sounds echoed off the canyon’s sides and threatened to deafen him. His fur bristled before he mock-charged at the nearest young male. It shoved backward in panic. The emotion spread through the sheep causing them to scatter down the only escape route available: right into Duff’s path.

With a happy and proud yip, he rushed after them. His figure entered the wide space just in time to see Duff’s jaws locked onto an elder ram’s hind leg. The pair struggled. As the sheep’s eyes widen in panic, it jerked a hooven foot back and kicked backward. On impact with Duff’s eye socket, the bone cracked.

Duff yelped as he released the ram’s foot. While the wolf hastily pawed away the blood, the prey hobbled to its feet then bolted away. Benjamin watched it a moment before he checked in on his companion.

‘Well, don’t stand there like a daff arse. Yer letting it get away!’ Duff mentally growled.

‘I wouldn’t be chasing it if you hadn’t dropped the ball.’

Benjamin paused to pick up the sheep’s scent more. His nose dug into the gravel where droplets of blood lead off into the section called a slot canyon. The tourists called it the ‘Subway’. Cautiously, he edged into the smoothed out tunnel where the Northern and Southern Guardian Angel came together. His steps echoed back at him as he casually moved deeper.

Eventually, his sharp vision caught the heavily breathing ram, its form on its side and breathing heavily. Blood stained the rocky floor where it stumbled then rose back up. It bleated in terror upon seeing him approach causing Benjamin’s lips to curl into a growl.

Something else was here. The moment he thought it, a large four-fingered hand emerged from the shadows farthest from him. It hovered over the ram before it slammed down to stun it. The creature never knew what hit it as the hand dragged it back into the shadows. A loud crunch vibrated the very walls with its sound.

Slowly, the young werewolf began to retreat. His hind paw touched something hard and rough, the cylinder shape rolled from under his footing. He stumbled.

A low rumbled indicated the predator in the shadows heard him. The crunching ceased as it shifted out of the shadows into the dim light.

‘Oh shit… Benjamin cursed.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

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