Heavy, much too heavy, she wasn't built for this. While no one was perfect - not even the gods - brawn was undoubtedly where Eve was most imperfect, one could even argue she was defective considering even a Kirin of her size, the feline Red Mage, could noticeably better handle tasks requiring feats of strength. Was this a sign from the heavens that she should consider training with one of the martial-minded Kirins? A matter to ponder later, but right here, right now, she had to do something; with each second ticking by, her grip on the electrocuted, rattled, and exhausted blond was slipping.
Cast a spell? She is the group's premiere offensive spellcaster so might as well play to her talents. An aeromantic blast to propel his form toward the ship would be the most obvious solution.
However, Esben was nowhere in a good shape, how severe were his wounds? Did the Sollan already have one foot in the grave? If so, she needed to adjust the power of the spell, too little and he'd simply fall back into the sea, too much and what'd arrive at the deck would be a corpse.
So many calculations to make, factors to consider, all requiring time that she didn't have-!
-and then the Kirin's very own dragon slayer and dashing heroine made the decision for her as the former propelled them toward the latter, already swinging on a rope, ready to catch them... or to be more specific, one of them. "Tch...!" Now that the die had been cast, the last thing she should do was sabotage it. Fully believing that it'd work, Eve released her hold on Esben's arm, leaving him - somewhat literally - in Robin's arms.
And she made it, of course she would. Robin was a folk hero for a reason after all.
For her part, Eve landed back on the ship just as Valon returned to his. "..." As a dragoon, traitor or no, he should know what'd be coming next, aye? There was a reason why Edren employed his kind, not warships, to hunt dragons. If he had forgotten, then she'd gladly remind him.
Etherous power was already coursing through Eve's body as the tell-tale signs of the distinctive prismatic aura shimmered from her petite frame. Proudclad's Tragedy shall claim another!
...?! Then her gaze widened upon identifying just who was on the turncoat's armored shoulder.
What is the matter, Grayscale? She's already dead, go, do it! Vaporize them, unleash Megaflare!
If she was, then why would Valon bother going out of his way to rescue her? Could it be-...
Thinking does not suit you, you are a weapon, act like one. Simply imagine as you turn these arrogant fools into dust, imagine the pleasure. They're the enemy, they deserve no quarter, no mercy. Hesitate not, Grayscale, ...do it.
"I-..."
”I have to wonder if that would be honoring your mother’s wishes, to exterminate all the others like you. It would be a different matter if they were mindless weapons capable of nothing but mass destruction.”
”Wear it, break it, ponder upon it, throw it in the sea. Do something with it. What I need from you, is to be more than just a weapon.”
"That's right, I-..."
”Are you such an exception that giving such mercy to the others is unthinkable?”
”Don't swear to me. Swear it to yourself.”
"I swore."
"No, I will not."
--2 Days Later, Drana Asnaeu - Costa del Sol--
"Aaah..." Eve droned out an unamused, tired groan at the group of... what were they supposed to be anyway? Guards, mercenaries, random thugs? They dressed fancy and talked firmly, yet politely, so... guards...? Whatever they were, after what Valon, Siren, and their cronies tried to pull a few days ago, Eve had little patience left for people accosting the team.
She, amongst individuals such as Izayoi, knew very well how vexing being hounded was, though the subject being Neve out of all people did slightly take her by surprise. I suppose she's such a precious healer that they want her all to themselves, whoever these Grovemasters are.
Eve's red eyes shifted awkwardly when the head guard called for more of their numbers. Some part of her wanted to quip something along the lines of "I wouldn't do that if I were you", while subtly angling her head toward Izayoi, but another part of her realized that inhospitable as they were, they were still Neve's people.
Fortunately, the ever-reliable Esben had come up with a more... one could say, diplomatic approach than whatever Eve or Izayoi could come up with. After his introduction, one of the guards glanced at the black-clad mage amongst the Kirin and Eve simply just shrugged in response, "what he said" would be an apt phrase to illustrate the gesture.
Though she wasn't sure if picking Rudolf as his "chaperone" was the right move, maybe someone more native to his homeland would do better, such as Elian-... hmm, nevermind, Rudolf would do.
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Eve's weapon (or lack thereof) takes the form of her own body, or at least, the Eidolon half of herself, which essentially functions similarly to a mage's staff. By simply tapping into the arcane circuits inside her, Eve is able to amplify her spells as if she's wielding an arcane focus. Furthermore, while she can technically use any part of her body, Eve most commonly employs her horns, arms, and tail for her spellcasting.
INVENTORY:
❖ Potions, tonics, and salves ❖ Adventurer's kit ❖ Assorted preserved food and rations ❖ Spare clothes ❖ Blue Dragon Scale: Gifted to her by Galahad, the scale taken from the blue dragon that marked the dragoon's first kill.
MATERIA:
❖ MP Turbo: When activated, amplify the effects of offensive spells at the cost of increased mana consumption.
LIMIT BREAKS:
❖ Ira Draconis: A Trance-type limit break power. By tapping further into her Eidolon nature, Eve flexes her arcane muscles beyond their limits, causing her to transform into a draconic creature resembling the King of Dragons himself. In this state, Eve's magical output and mana consumption are doubled, she gains free flight, and becomes completely numb to pain. Lasts for a few minutes or until she's incapacitated, whichever happens first. In the aftermath, the sheer exertion demanded by this ability will render Eve unable to cast any spells until she recovers her mana reserves back to full. ❖ Mega Flare: The Dragon King's signature breath attack. Though but a pale imitation of the real deal, Eve's Mega Flare still carries enough power to destroy an air battleship or vaporize a city block in one fell sweep. Only usable in Ira Draconis state and using it will immediately incapacitate Eve in addition to the consequences of using her Trance.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Standing at a mere 139cm (4'7"), one will be completely justified to assume that Eve is a young girl barely on the cusp of adolescence. However, her unusual looks usually take center stage over her meager height; deep crimson eyes, bleached gray hair, and an albino pale complexion will already be enough to make her stand out as unusual, then once her ivory white draconic horns, tail, and patches of scales are factored in, then height is undoubtedly made irrelevant. Her visage is bizarre, that much is certain, leading to wary and/or distrustful stares from others, which are made doubly worse once they discover that she's a black mage, one of those scum who stole the Divine Mother's Light for their own nefarious purposes, no wonder she's cursed to look like the monster her kind truly are.
However, if one manages to look past her anomalous traits, they'll be able to see that Eve is actually quite pretty, like a girl that'll one day blossom into a fair maiden, but alas, there are simply too many things about her that'll unnerve the common populace.
Quiet, taciturn, and unassuming, Eve is the kind of person who prefers to not attract unnecessary attention to herself. Her looks and magical abilities alone are plenty enough reasons for her to avoid the figurative spotlight, prompting her to wear apparel such as hoods and trenchcoats to hide her inhuman traits. She rarely speaks unless it's absolutely necessary or when around trusted comrades. Due to her upbringing as a test subject, it's rather difficult for Eve to truly trust someone, always wary of any ulterior motives, but when someone does gain her trust, then she'll risk life and limb to ensure they'll come to no harm.
On the other hand, behind the demure veil lies the scion of Bahamut, with the ferocity and ambition one should expect from a spawn of the King of Dragons. Fueled by an insatiable thirst to right wrongs and save others from experiencing the same fate as herself. When riled up, the black mage is deceptively quick to resort to violence for someone so seemingly docile. She especially despises tyrants and oppressors; people who coerce, bully, and intimidate those weaker than them, as they remind her of the very scum who made her life hell from her birth up until she escaped.
In her 'Ira Draconis' Trance form, the aloof part of her persona sheds away completely, leaving only the Dragon in all of her righteous fury.
Most individuals were born from the union of two, through a loving marriage, a brief fling, or something else entirely. Even if one or both parents were absent in someone's life, it's an established certainty that there was once a connection between a pair of individuals; the father who conceived them and the mother who gave birth to them...
...Eve wasn't one such person, or ‘Grayscale' as she once was known. As the titular subject of 'Project Grayscale', Eve was "born" in a test tube, the result of an artificial insemination as part of the Valheimr project to harness the power of Bahamut the King of All Dragons. In doing so, Eve - as an embryo - was continuously infused with the distilled essence of the draconic eidolon, she among several other of her 'sisters', but over the course of the following months, only she survived the process leading to her "birth". As the most stable and promising specimen, the staff dubbed her 'Grayscale' and the project could move into the next stage: Cultivating the Pseudo-Eidolon to be the empire's ultimate weapon, possessing the terrible might of Bahamut and the obedience of a well-trained hound.
Unsurprisingly, life as a test subject was anything but easy, nor even humane, Grayscale was given all the attention in the world, except as an invaluable tool instead of a living, breathing child. Everyone in the facility knew her, she was the reason why they were all here, but she never received any love, nor kindness, nor warmth, well, except from one, Dr. Evangelina Zhidkova, or 'Eve' as she was commonly referred as. Among the endless sea of uncaring darkness, Dr. Eve stood as the sole beacon of warm light, the one who read her stories, comforted her after a particularly grueling experiment, told her that she'd grow up to be a hero for the proud Valheim Empire, and that one day, this would all be worth it, for a greater purpose that no one else but her could achieve.
So Grayscale soldiered on, day after day, year after year, no matter how painful, how agonizing the things she had to go through, it'd one day be worth it...
...that was until she was suddenly awakened from her stasis pod to find a bleeding, dying Dr. Eve smiling at her even as blood dripped from between her teeth, "Go, live!" was all she could say before a facility guard put a bullet through her back, murdering Grayscale's surrogate mother right before her eyes.
At that exact moment, a mighty roar violently reverberated throughout the complex, it was as if Bahamut himself had descended upon the arrogant fools, to make them pay for their hubris. Screams, gunshots, and a whole cacophony of bloody chaos soon followed, and then, silence... nothing but sweet, sweet silence... .......... ..... ...
Emerging from the ruined remains of the facility, her feet set upon fresh soil for the very first time, and though she now hated the empire for what they did to her, for murdering her mother, the Blighted world was proof enough that mother wasn't lying, she did have a greater purpose. Thus, with flames burning in her heart, Grayscale-... no, Eve left her smoldering nest into the whole wide world, a world that might fear or hate her for who she was, but one that's worth saving nonetheless.
❖ Quite older than she looks. Unlike normal people, Eve was rapidly developed from embryo stage to look how she's now and shall remain forever, physically unchanging just like the Eidolons she emulates. ❖ Eve's physiology is notably different in that she only requires ether to survive, though she still can enjoy food and drinks for pleasure. Furthermore, she doesn't have a set circadian rhythm, she only feels drowsy when exhausted. ❖ Speaking of food, meat is her favorite; fresh, grilled, stewed, you can rarely go wrong with meat. ❖ Has an innate ability to learn and replicate black magic spells just by observing them in action, the arcane equivalent of a pitch perfect musician. ❖ Almost always wears baggy and concealing clothing with muted colors to avoid unnecessary attention due to her appearance; a hood to hide her horns, a trench coat that she can tuck her tail into, and gloves and long boots to cover as much of her scale-patched skin as possible.
❖ Dr. Evangelina 'Eve' Zhidkova: The person whose name Eve adopted as her own. The only personnel in the facility that actually cared for the test subject and decided to go rogue due to said care. KIA by security personnel after she released 'Subject Grayscale' from containment, sacrificing her own life so the Pseudolon can live free. ❖ Project Grayscale Team: Assorted research, security, and support staff who worked in the research facility, all presumed either KIA or MIA after Grayscale's rampage.
TRIVIA:
❖ Color Code: d3d3d3 ❖ Eve has spent the years following her escape working as an adventurer, mainly in Ibros to avoid dealing with the empire, but then Valheim invaded Osprey, prompting her to head there to help the locals banish those tyrants back to their own continent.
"..." When Kalina fished out what was inside the box Gerard gave her, the motivation behind Ivan's actions was no longer a matter of speculation. Amongst the Barghests and even the WARDEN corps as a whole, it could be said that Valerie was one of the more empathetic ones; her vow to not let her mutations define her certainly played a major part in her personal mission to not end up like... well, Morden, and WARDENs like him.
However, even the Nephilim had her limits, while she'd rather die than turning into an unfeeling weapon of mass destruction, she wouldn't call herself a compassionate pacifist either. In the end, she was a soldier and her job would inevitably involve deaths, both suffering and causing them. This... Ivan, this two-faced conman was attempting to pilfer essential war assets for his own gain. Even disregarding Mylo's gift for his daughter, the man was a parasitic vermin; he was an enemy of the state and the people, and while he technically wasn't a combatant, Valerie couldn't shake off the thought that a leech like him would be better off dead.
...and it seemed Kalina had the exact same idea.
"Good riddance."
Should she feel bad? ...no, no she shouldn't, parasites like Ivan were like gut worms, the world could only be better off without them in it.
With Kalina handling the "evidence", Valerie decided to assist Gerard and the others with recovering the stolen supplies. Meanwhile, she heard something about Collette producing her own mist? Now that was unheard of; nature produced mist and people manipulated what was already there, that's how it usually goes, but Rassvet was but a small country in a big, big world, a world full of wondrous and terrible things both, her... self being a good example. In other words, Valerie was intrigued, yet unsurprised.
"Maybe the little spatial anomaly you endured in that ship did something to your genes, who knows, but I won't be surprised if it's the case. Mist storms don't exactly obey the "rules" of nature." The white-haired WARDEN gave her two-cents with a shrug before turning at Gerard, "I mean... don't get me wrong, I'm not being pessimistic for the hell of it, but I do expect we'll encounter more problems later, when that time comes, we do as we usually do: adapt, improvise, and overcome. We're WARDENs, squad, not politicians."
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Standing at a meager 145cm (4'9") with a petite, waifish build, one will be wholly justified to assume that Valerie is a young girl who's only a few summers into her adolescence period. Indeed, it may be true depending on one's perspective as it's an established fact that Valerie's growth began to stagnate at around half a decade into her WARDEN education, until eventually, she simply ceased to physically develop, leaving her a grown woman in the body of an adolescent with below-average height, an unfortunate tragedy that she has never quite gotten over.
Furthermore, if someone already knew Valerie from before her enrollment into the Citadel, then they'll be hard-pressed to recognize her current self. Once, she possessed silky hair as dark as a raven's feather, now only bleached gray locks hung from her scalp. Once, the young girl's visage hosted a pair of bright baby blue eyes, now they had mutated into eerie violet irises housing pupils so narrow, they may as well be serpentine slits. All these without even mentioning the "horns" growing from the sides of her skull, in actuality a mutated mass of keratin with horn-like shapes, though they're fortunately benign... so far at least.
In addition, when Valerie engages her mist-fueled personal barrier - with or without the presence of an Aegis device - her body will manifest bio-projections bearing the shape of a halo of thorns above her head and a pair of devilish wings sprouting from her lower back. All of these traits, when combined, gives off the image of a demonic angel (or an angelic demon), earning her the epithet "Nephilim", the offspring born from an unholy union of the divine and the profane. Considering her history, Gaia must've had a twisted sense of humor.
Lastly, when examined under close scrutiny, an observer will be able to see veins with purplish hue underneath Valerie's skin, spread all across her body, including her 'horns'. These very same veins will begin to glow when she uses her Mist-based abilities, the intensity being directly proportional to how far she's exerting herself. On the flipside, they become completely imperceptible in a mistless environment.
As for clothing, Valerie may be many things, but being fussy about fashion isn't one of them. Due to the nature of her powers, the gray-haired WARDEN will wear almost anything as long as it's not harmful to her; a full combat uniform? Sure, casual day-to-day clothes? Fine, a dirty brown rag that'll fit the empire's forced laborers more than a WARDEN? No problem. Really, for Valerie, being rendered Mistless is far more debilitating than a lack of adequate apparel.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Calm and stoic even under great pressure, Valerie is in someways similar to her fellow WARDEN 2nd Class, Justice, yet distinctly different in other aspects. Unlike the sardonic and rabble-rousing WARDEN, Valerie gives off the image of a maternal figure, preferring to guide with a firm but gentle hand. She's the type to lace her words with some form of sugarcoating if she thinks it'll deliver her message better and consider white lies aren't necessarily always bad, sometimes it's simply not the right time to tell someone the whole truth. Perhaps it's the Maiden in her that never quite left even after all the grueling training, perhaps she has always been predisposed to be this way, regardless, Valerie believes that her methods are as valid as Justice's. After all, one correct answer doesn't always mean all others are wrong.
Often acting as the gentler, more soft-spoken counterpart to the group's de facto squad leader, Valerie serves as the other side of the coin to Justice's drill sergeant-esque approach to leadership. Together, the two serve as the glue that keeps the squad from falling apart, due to petty squabbles or otherwise.
Deep inside, even though Valerie may not even realize it herself, a part of her is motivated by pure, undiluted spite. Spite against the parents who abandoned her, spite against the warmongering empire that forced her homeland to take desperate measures, and most of all, spite against herself and her existence as a whole, a mockery of who she once was, a 'demonic monster' masquerading as a person. Even against everything that life has thrown at her, she'll rise above it all, for the sake of her loved ones. And if she must perish one day, then she'll be sure to unleash the dark divine fury of the Nephilim upon the empire first.
B A C K G R O U N D
An orphan of unknown circumstances, little is known about Valerie's early life other than she was left at the doorstep of a local Maidens of the Mother nunnery at rural Rassvet, the very same cloister that a certain bombastic white-haired girl would find herself in the next few years. As for Valerie, it was rather common for infants unwanted by their parents to be handed over into the care of the church, the lesser of two evils compared to... other alternatives, as such, as far as the brunette knew, the Maidens were her family and the Order her home.
Growing up, Valerie was a child who could be described as a 'good girl'; obedient, diligent, and compassionate, she was a model maiden-to-be, a great contrast to the cloister's resident troublemaker, an explosive - in both figurative and literal sense - girl named Silje. In fact, during their years in the monastery, Valerie would often be assigned to keep watch over the older girl when the nuns were busy. A task that she did without protest, however, despite her best attempts, Silje could never be tamed, even managing to escape after multiple attempts. Such a pair of polar opposites, the notion of the two having a career together was unthinkable, surely a delinquent like Silje would never qualify as a Maiden, unlike herself.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans, one that unraveled when Valerie and Silje were ten and twelve summers old respectively.
As it turned out, the two girls were amongst the hundreds of children qualified to be inducted into the Citadel to temper and shape them into the Rassvet's finest warriors, to become WARDENs. Taken away from what Valerie considered to be her family, she was reluctant at first, but one of the sisters asked her to take care of Silje and told her that after a 'mere' decade, she could return. It was enough to convince the brunette to bear with it, she was doing a good cause, to protect the innocent from the warmongering, genocidal empire. It was her solemn duty...
...only she never truly expected what becoming a WARDEN would demand from her. After several tests, it was discovered that Valerie too held considerable yet unpolished talent at wielding the Mist. Whereas Silje's arcane might projected outward in the form of unleashing elemental barrages like a magical cannon, the opposite was true for Valerie, the brunette's had a knack for using Mist to empower herself and her 'domain', the latter consisting of anything she physically touched via her mist, which manifested in the form of creeping purple vein-like growth.
In practical terms, aside from enhancing her own body well into superhuman territory, she could extend this mist-fueled augmentation to any object she was currently holding, and in most cases, it'd be some form of weapon. Through this ability, she could turn the mundane into magical, pushing them to break their limits; a run-of-the-mill pistol could now fire arcane projectiles, a common steel combat knife into a razor-sharp magical blade capable of cutting through steel with ease, etc. Valerie was ecstatic to discover an aspect of herself that she never knew she had, but over the next half a decade of continuously being subjected to mist-related experiments and exercises, she'd learn that there was a price, there was always a price...
It started subtly at first, an odd lock of white hair here and there, a few tiny specks of violet in her eyes, a minor dull ache on her head, and the strange trend of being physically outgrown by most of her peers, surely all in due course due to the grueling training she had to endure, surely they were nothing more than minor side-effects, nothing that a good night's rest and some medicine wouldn't cure. Oh, how wrong she was.
Before she knew it, years passed, and the... thing facing her from beyond the mirror was supposed to be her reflection. Violet eyes with inhuman pupils, a crown of thorns sprouting from her skull, and locks of bleached gray as if she was a woman well into her senior years, yet juxtaposed against the body of a-... Going by the calendar, she was supposed to be nearing the end of her growth spurt, yet she looked no different than a child in the middle of adolescence, no, not a child, a demon, a monster bearing the facsimile of a person.
Horrified at what she had become, Valerie fell into depression for close to a year, until she decided that enough was enough, she might look like a monster, but it didn't mean she had to act like one. She could still use her powers for good. Fueled by newfound determination, the now-white-haired girl pushed herself to be the very best that she could be, resulting in excellent grades across the board. Even though her body appeared to be stuck from developing further, she found out that she could easily compensate for such mortal limitations with her powers, even surpassing what even the best, but otherwise mundane soldiers could do. As such, when graduation came, being christened as a WARDEN 2nd Class came to no surprise for her.
Now a full-fledged WARDEN after a decade of relentless training, the Nephilim figured she and her peers deserved some respite before they'd be deployed to the frontlines. When the idea came for a short vacation, she wholeheartedly accepted, besides, someone still had to watch over Silje, especially now that the excitable girl could turn a whole block into a smoldering crater, literally.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard / Combat Support (Walking Arsenal)
Combat Style:
Taking the form of an HMG-esque weapon longer than she's tall, Haylel is a custom-made armament specifically designed and manufactured to be used by the Nephilim. Unlike normal weapons, Haylel can't function without being infused by Valerie's mistborne power (perhaps aside from using it as a crude bludgeoning stick), but when it is, its true potential is revealed to all. Practically, it's a multi-role magical ranged weapon that can be used for indiscriminate widespread destruction all the way to precision marksmanship. It's as much a mounted machinegun as it is an anti-materiel rifle. Regardless of its current usage, several things remain constant: Haylel fires arcane beam-esque projectiles instead of mundane ballistics and it never needs to be reloaded since it directly feeds off mist infused into it by Valerie to form said projectiles within its meticulously-crafted mechanisms.
Meaning "Lightbringer", Haylel is indeed the bringer of light to all, now whether it's the light of shining hope or divine retribution depends on whether one is on the receiving end of its spinning barrel or not.
Imagine a mighty suit of power armor, everything from its array of weapons to its sturdy armor, then visualize putting all of those properties - weapons, armor, and all - into the figure of a four-foot-something girl. It sounds quite ridiculous at first glance, a hilarious joke even, but no one would be laughing when they found themselves at the receiving end of the Nephilim's unholy wrath. Tis' Valerie in a nutshell, a veritable living, breathing arsenal holding enough firepower to level a city block, with the durability to match. Despite what her diminutive size may suggest, she's no glass cannon, nay, she's a mighty avalanche who’ll roll over her foes in an unstoppable mist-fueled onslaught.
Valerie's mistborne abilities take the form of glowing purple veins that she can command to cover either herself or other objects within her arm's reach. Upon being swarmed, the object is considered to be in her 'domain', within her sphere of influence, these objects can then be subjected to enhancements and modifications, the degree in which is limited by the object's original form.
Offensively, she can turn a kitchen knife into a magical blade capable of slicing through steel or a standard-issue assault rifle into an arcane carbine able to launch photonic projectiles strong enough to penetrate through light combat vehicles.
Defensively, she can augment her own body or any gear she currently wears in the same vein as her weapons, boosting their capabilities beyond their original scope. As such, it doesn't matter whether Valerie is wearing a full combat uniform or tattered rags, as long as she has access to mist, a wise enemy should regard her as if she's wearing a suit of power armor. If Valerie currently has access to an Aegis device, then she can perform a symbiosis with the gadget, conjuring a mighty barrier with robustness that's more than the sum of its parts.
Supportively, Valerie can - technically - exert her influence over a whole vehicle, enhancing them much like her weapons and armor, although it's ill-advised due to the massive constraint the feat will put on her body. If it must be done, the (barely) safe limit is a sports bike or a small car, anything beyond that will most certainly push her into mistburn territory, the degree of which is directly proportional to the size of the affected vehicle.
No matter how Valerie uses her power, one principle remains true, she essentially turns the objects under her mist's influence into an extension of her own body, allowing her to be proficient in using them, regardless of her original proficiency (or lack thereof). For example, though unlikely due to her extensive weapons training as a WARDEN, on the off chance that Valerie encounters a weapon she has no experience in, she can circumvent her lack of skill by exerting her influence upon said weapon.
On the flipside, as with all mistborne powers, caution is always advised. The longer she has to maintain her influence and the larger the object, the more mist she has to manipulate and thus, the more strain she'll have to endure. Mistburn is always a risk even among the best of Wardens and underestimating its dangers is a gross negligence that should never be tolerated.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
❖ Gerard: A spoiled child in the body of a grown man with hubris so deep, it can fill a whole ocean. That much is fact about the noble socialite-turned-WARDEN, but it's also a fact that behind all that arrogance is a well-meaning loyal friend with a heart of gold... except that gold is covered in many layers of snark. Although Valerie is able to see through the muck for the glimmering pearl within, it'll be many years before Gerard can truly learn to no longer hide his feelings behind a mask of ego, if he ever does. Nevertheless, he's still a WARDEN and an invaluable member of the team. She'll attempt to guide him, but ultimately, the decision to change for the better lies with Gerard himself.
❖ Kalina: In a peculiar way, Kalina reminds her of Silje despite the two being polar opposites on the surface level. Beneath the superficial quirks, Valerie can see that both of them are socially-awkward individuals who're not quite adept at expressing themselves. However, whereas Silje expresses that awkwardness by just pressing every button and hoping for the best, Kalina prefers to not even try pressing any. Still, as long as the golden-eyed woman is content with herself and capable of following orders when the time comes, then there's no reason for her to be something that she's not. Having self-contentment at being who you are, that's a boon that many take for granted, Valerie can definitely say that.
❖ Lance: If Gerard is someone who hides his gentler side behind a self-imposed 'tough' mask to not appear weak, then Lance feels like someone who has several masks of lies nailed onto his face. He tries to be a model soldier; hard-working, loyal, agreeable, and brave, and while all of these traits may be who he actually is, Valerie can't help but feel that there's a certain air of impostor syndrome with the ginger, he desperately tries to prove himself to others because he can't do it to himself. As a former nun trainee (who took her duties seriously, unlike Silje), Valerie often volunteered to assist with Order-related tasks in the Citadel, and several times on a regular basis, she saw Lance in deep prayer. She didn't eavesdrop for obvious reasons, but it'd be a lie to say that she never wondered just what deep, dark secrets this 'model soldier' keeps inside.
❖ Justice: A fellow 2nd Class and the group's de facto leader. Valerie respects Justice for her no-nonsense attitude when the situation calls for it, as she knows that it's actually harder to be at the top of the pecking order than otherwise, still, no one's perfect and as good as Justice is, her quirks might rub some of her subordinates the wrong way, and a weak chain of command is a literal death sentence in combat situations. Therefore, as Justice's 'vice-commander', Valerie tries her best to cover for the dark-haired woman's shortcomings; together, they'll amount to more than the sum of their parts.
❖ Silje: The closest thing to a childhood friend that Valerie has amongst the group, amongst the whole Citadel even. Though Valerie technically arrived first in the monastery, she could barely remember a period in her early life where Silje wasn't in it. Between her arrival only a mere few years later, her attention-grabbing antics, and the fact that Valerie was the (un)fortunate acolyte often assigned to look after the hyperactive girl, despite the latter being older by two years. Valerie has to admit that she at times muse about an alternate timeline where they fail the aptitude test, or barring that, the war and the WARDEN program not existing in the first place. Where would life take them? So many possibilities, but out of those endless paths, reality picked the one where both of them must be soldiers, to fight for the greater good of all, yes, but no one in their right mind would prefer this life over a peaceful one.
❖ Morden: While Valerie respects the Mist-powered Juggernaut's loyalty to his comrades and devotion to his country's cause, she can't help but feel... conflicted. There are no tusks without cracks, nothing is perfect, and while she can look at herself for the price the WARDENs had to pay for their superhuman prowess, she'd mostly be referring to physical effects, while Morden's case is an example of the toll imposed on their minds. All WARDENs received mental conditioning as part of the program, to make them fearless and loyal soldiers, but it might have gone horribly right for Morden. The giant soldier's utter devotion to Rassvet's cause borders on blind loyalty, and Valerie's concerned that if he's ordered to massacre a group of imperial citizens - innocent civilians by all rights - he'll still do so without a shred of hesitation.
M I S C / T R I V I A
❖ Though she tries her best to ignore it nowadays, the fact remains that Valerie has a complex regarding her mutations, and seeing fully-grown men and women (leaning more into the latter), especially those with well-developed physique, always reminds her of what could've been had she never qualified for the WARDEN program in the first place. A keen observer will be able to notice the tell-tale signs of subtle envious stares, especially in situations where people are expected to wear revealing clothing, such as a beach party.
❖ Along with the initial signs of physical mutations, Valerie also began to develop an addiction to Mistburn-suppressant drugs, one that steadily got worse over the years up until she fully "transformed" into her current state. As of now, she can be classified as a high-functioning addict, able to function day-to-day with little to no issues as long as she receives a dose of Astral Reducer every few days. Ignoring this will result in withdrawal symptoms that'll gradually progress from mild annoyances to life-threatening. There’s no permanent cure, only temporary control measures. Valerie is very self-conscious of this affliction, more so than her stagnated growth and 'demonic' traits, and mocking her about it is a foolproof method of burning bridges with her.
❖ During her life in the monastery, the nuns discovered that Valerie has latent musical talents, particularly in singing and playing the piano, though they're never developed further after her recruitment into the WARDEN program.
❖ She has a sweet tooth and her favorite dessert is a slice of mille crepe layered cake.
Well, what area of high-school would your character be in (junior, senior, etc.)? I wouldn't think that you wouldn't necessarily need to use the formulas of advanced mathematics like calculus for your character's backstories or for practice of using lucidity, in fact, Lucids would be forbidden from expanding their knowledge past what they already have, let alone practice it.
If you feel like working with me, I'm positive we can work something out.
Whatever it is (Read: undecided), it'll be below the theoretical IC age range that you've set, and I'd rather not push my luck again to another GM. If the RP isn't designed to accommodate younger characters, then it isn't.
Well, then the char would lack that flair if they're supposedly a super-genius math prodigy yet the narrative doesn't showcase it, show don't tell, kind of thing. This was the part where I realized I wasn't prepared to take on such task, self-imposed it might be.
Mmm... at this point, I prefer to not just force it and admit that I'm no longer interested.
Regardless, thank you for indulging me and I wish you the best of luck.
I'm a fuckin' weeb, but one of my great-grandparents was Japanese and a Japanese can't be a weeb by definition so...
[h3]7/8 Weeb[/h3]
...[s]kill me.[/s]
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<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">I'm a fuckin' weeb, but one of my great-grandparents was Japanese and a Japanese can't be a weeb by definition so... <br><div class="bb-h3">7/8 Weeb</div><br>...<span class="bb-s">kill me.</span><br><br><sub><span class="bb-i">Avatar drawn by <a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="https://www.patreon.com/vayreceane">Vayreceane</a></span></sub></div>
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