Lawful Newtral

The Leviathan (Treasure Planet Fandom Roleplay)

Wow, where have I seen these GMs from?

Lemme try and make a CS. I love pirates and space, so Treasure Planet is a no-brainer.

Torn Realms (High-Fantasy) (Mid-High Casual) [ALWAYS OPEN]

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"And this mechanism has not fallen in Revenant hands in all this time how?"

In an unassuming Humani settlement, nestled deep in the Woods, there resided an elder who headed the settlement as a venerable voice of reason and a one-man governing body. Chaplain Maxwell was his name, a man of faith in the path of Raziel. Denied entry into the Nephilim for reasons unknown, he instead established a miniature version of the Institute, a place of holiness where all could find peace if they chose to seek it. It was christened Farshire Abbey and in time, enough people flocked to the abbey for a settlement to be built around it, named Farborough. This was a long time ago and the revered Chaplain now lived out his twilight years in a quiet peace, though evidently he was not object to extending hospitality to itinerant travelers seeking his audience, like this young man before him: Rowan Redpath, ex-Nephilim.

The two were in the Chaplain's humble residence, sitting round the extinguished hearth whilst examining...a certain mechanism of ancient origin that floated mysteriously between the two of them. A bronze spherical device that shone bright with both sheen and holy energy, it radiated a calming presence that more than compensated for the lack of fire. And like fire, when Rowan attempted to touch the mechanism, he found his fingers stung with extreme heat despite his hands being gloved. This action was met with a reprimanding look.

"It is pronounced Mekansm, young Redpath, and I strongly advise against touching it," the Elder said, his voice not losing an inch of command even after all these years. "Alithe and her Revenants have long suspected of the Mekansm's existence and have sent plenty of forces in seek of it. Their failure is only attributed to me getting better and better at hiding it." And that was a truly necessary skill. This humble bronze orb held great power to be used against the darkness, the last word in Nephilim weaponry. Should it fall into the wrong hands, the forces of Order could be overwhelmed by the turned tide. How a humble man of peace had managed to create such a magnificent weapon was lost to Rowan personally, but Chaplain Maxwell was full of surprises. That much he knew. That much the Nephilim knew.

"If I may, Lord Maxwell, how exactly did this thing come to be? This does not seem like something normal Humani craftsmanship is capable of creating, so how did you do it?" Rowan asked, still intently eyeing the Mekansm. The elder leaned back on his chair, rocking it slightly. "In my youth, I came across a set of scrolls containing advanced Dwarven techniques of engineering. They came with schematics to a weapon, potentially of mass destruction. With what I was allowed to learn from the Nephilim, I was able to-" Suddenly Chaplain stopped and looked out his window. Rowan did the same, rising to his feet.

"Do you sense something, my lord?" the knight inquired once more, hand gripping the hilt of his Braidh already.

"Yes, a dark force is approaching. We must act with haste and protect the Mekansm with our lives!" Such a commanding presence in so frail a man, Rowan could not disagree. Chaplain Maxwell placed the orb within a small chest and hid it in a special secret compartment on the floor. Meanwhile, Rowan headed out of the residence and scouted the immediate surroundings. The folk of Farborough, seemingly sensing that trouble was approaching, had stopped their activities and made for shelter in their homes. Soon, the bustling settlement was filled with an eerie calm and it was only the knight standing guard over the abbey in the middle of the woods.

Closed. Free Pass has been rebooted.

Location: The Hamasaki Residence down Whisper Drive -> Westworth High
Interacting with: The Door to English Class

---

Like all Monday mornings, Kieran woke up with a thumping head and a dry throat. Sunday gigs in Denver were among the best in his schedule, but the dread of the way back plus the morning after were just the absolute worst. With half-blind eyes, he looked around and to his bedside. The clock read 8:20 AM, which meant that as always, he was late for school. Fucking hell, why did he even bother? This year would most likely end badly for Kieran as with the previous three years. But the man has never been known for giving up, only persevering. That was his way.

Rising from the bed, Kieran stumbled over to the bathroom and made himself at least presentable and hygienic. He put on the so-called 'outfit of the day' being a black hoodie, his favorite pair of jeans and a pair of greenish military-style boots. He looked like a junkie, to be quite honest. After washing up, Key headed down for some breakfast. He checked the fridge for anything edible. Let's see here...Bruised bananas, last week's Chinese takeout, a block of drywall, a dead cockroach or two....ah, there was some OJ and a half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs. Dad must have left it for him before heading off for work. That man was too good for him.

By the time Kieran left house, it was with a relatively full stomach, an unrelenting headache and a desire to crash back to bed. Westworth High was in comfortable walking distance, though it might as well have been miles away. The cold air did his throat no favors and every step felt like drudging to molasses. Man, why did afterparties even exist if all it begot was biblical levels of hangover?

Like how Moses eventually led the Jews from Egypt to Israel, Kieran eventually arrived in the halls of Westworth High. Aside from the odd student rushing for the bathroom, there was no one there besides him. Now should be the time for English class so that wwas his destination. Once there, he tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. No matter how much he pulled, it wouldn't open (never mind how it was supposed to be pulled to open)! Fucking piece of shit school and their piece of shit doors that couldn't even function properly. There was only one solution to this.

Kieran let loose a rough, draconic shout to pump himself up before boldly kicking open the door, making it hang precariously on the hinges. Barbaric of him, sure, but it worked. For an odd moment, he saw the classroom stunned in silence. How could they not be, kicking down a door was loud. And he himself must have looked some sort of monster- Vanderfield would likely compare him to a dragon or an Orc or some shit-, angrily barging in with a roar. He calmed down some, if so the class could go about as normal. See, Kieran cared!

"The, um, door was broken," Kieran muttered sheepishly, as if he didn't just break in like a SWAT team. "Sorry for the mess." With no other things to say, he didn't wait to be told to sit and sat down in one of the few remaining empty seats. He tried to see what he had missed. There was a set of group names being projected. Couldn't quite see it clearly, though he did see his name on the first group along with some others. 'Unrequited Love and Infatuation'? Not a wise choice of placement. Kieran neither understood love nor thought kindly of it.

Then again, he didn't actually know what he was supposed to do with the words Unrequited Love and Infatuation. Maybe he would be tasked with deconstructing it and talking shit about it. Yeah, he would pass that for sure.

Closed. Free Pass has been rebooted.

Kieran Hamasaki

Key or Mophead, interchangeable

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"People are more than their failures. People are more than their successes."

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For the Record

║ Name ║

Kieran Hamasaki

║ Birthday & Age ║

Seventh of May, 19 as of present day

║ Gender & Sexual Orientation ║

Male, heterosexual

║ Other Labels ║

The Music Maniac/Garage Band Kid, The Laziest One, The 19-Year-Old Junior ("This year will be the year, trust me!")

║ Occupation ║

Guitarist, musical director, leader and founder of local band 3+ (pronounced three-sum/threesome)

║ Appearance ║

Kieran is a tall kid (or man, rather), standing at a respectable 6 inches, with a scrawny build that hides a lot of strength. He has toned olive skin, brown and messy hair, which was once black but now dyed bleached blond and sometimes bright red. The entirety of his...'aesthetic' (God, he hates that word) speaks of a lazy, uncaring, detached man that looks ready to slap you at a moment's notice. He always stands slouched and his default face is a drooped bitch face as if he's either tired or pissed. Usually the former. The only time he ever shows energy is when you put a test in front of him or a guitar in his hands.

Key dresses as much as he needs to and normally buys the cheapest clothes possible. Though he is loath to wear the same thing over and over and over like an anime character, his personal favorites include a secondhand flannel shirt, a black parka and a pair of dark jeans with various logos stitched into them.

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"Never tell yourself 'you should be someone else'
Stand up tall and say 'I'm not afraid'"

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At First Glance

║ Personality ║

The Positive:

• Crafty
• Genuine
• Free-spirited
• Humble

The Negative:

• Lazy
• Bitter
• Lazy
• Insensitive
• Lazy
• Did I mention lazy?

What You See:
So say you've happened along the 19 year old junior. The dude who got held back not once, not twice, but three times. Three times. It's suffice to say that he's quite pissed about it. Kieran definitely acts pissed; bump into him on the hallwayu and nine times out of ten, he'll give you some colorful words and a shove for the trouble. It's...nothing personal, trust me. Manage to get a conversation going and you'll find he has quite some stories to tell. For a young adult, he seems to act more like an old war veteran; bitter, jaded and always giving you some stories of what it was in his day whether you actually like it or not. Key is notably warmer if you bring up music. That's always been his true passion and one of the few things he genuinely cares about in the world.

One does not simply get held back three times. Kieran is noticeably book-dumb, damn near every class he takes ends up in failure. He personally believes that it's because the system is broken, but it's really because he's lazy and unambitious. He cares very little in things like academics and as such, pours none of his enthusiasm into it. Lack of energy coupled with idiocy does not a star student make. Key isn't always lazy all the time, mind you. Put him on an instrument and he'll get crackalackin' like it's 1999. On the stage is where you get to see a fully passionate Kieran and it is beautiful.

What I Know:
Kieran doesn't exactly hide much. What you see is what you get, basically. To hide any part of himself from the world is a grave sin in his eyes. That said, there are some things that don't immediately stand out until you talk to him, and I mean really talk to him. For one, he despises romance, for his father's life was ruined by the ill hope brought upon by love. He also thinks very, very lowly of himself, perhaps stemming from three consecutive years of failure. Unintentional humility is what the guidance counselor calls it.

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"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why." - Kurt Vonnegut

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Off the Record

║ My Dreams ║

Graduate and prove his teachers that they ain't shit.

And also to elevate his band to the level of greatness it surely deserves. He would not enjoy the fame and glory, but his bandmates would. Key owed them that much.

║ Fears ║

• Fire
• Losing the music

║ Likes ║

• Music of all shapes and sizes
• Sleeping
• Dad
• 5-buck ice tea from the convenience store
• Dogs
• Sushi

║ Dislikes ║

• School
• Homework
• Tests
• His good-for-nothing teachers
• Anarchy
• Cats
• Idiots that listen to only one genre of music
• The bitch (otherwise known as Mom)

║ Brief History ║

Most people in Westworth know of Kieran's father, Ethan, before they know Kieran himself. Ethan was, back in the day, the resident bad boy. He never failed to get himself into trouble and yet never failed to give back to the community in return. Everyone knew him and either thought fondly or ill of him. Quite a polarising figure for such a small town. One day, he made the decision to haul it to Los Angeles, to meet up with the 'love of his life', whoever that was. It was strangely easy for Ethan to leave it all; home, family, friends, enemies. He just hopped on a motorcycle and never looked back. For some, that was the last they saw of Ethan Hamasaki.

Twelve years later, however, he returned, but not alone. He was accompanied by a lovely baby boy and...depression. Ethan's time in LA came to a horrible end. The woman who had so lovingly corresponded with him and welcomed him into her abode with smiles had turned out to be his worst nightmare. She took from him everything and gave back a tremendous burden he was reluctant to bear, a child. Not knowing what else to do, but intent on giving his son Kieran a good life, Ethan did it all to make a journey back home to Westworth, where he settled in his parents' old home. They had, of course, passed away just two weeks prior to his arrival. Poor guy.

Kieran's childhood was...pretty run-of-the-mill, considering the circumstances that brought him here in the first place. He and his father didn't have much to go by, only inheritance money and what little his father's job at the gas station paid him. As such, he rarely had the opportunity to get the finer things in life. His only luxury for a good portion of his childhood was a guitar, bought from his neighbor for a small sum of $3. The boy's life changed the moment he got his hands on a guitar. Kieran turned out to be hella talented at music. When Dad came home, tired and suicidal, he'd play a song for him and seeing his boy so happily and skillfully making the musical magic happen, he knew that for this moment, life was alright. So began his love affair with the temptress known as music.

By the time Kieran got into middle school, enough people from his class noticed his aptitude for music. Turns out enough people was just two. Bryn Martin, the resident edgy punk tomboy, and Adrian Lewis, egghead extraordinaire. The two had little in common aside from a shared love of music and the desire to start their own band. Kieran, the (at the time) embodiment of energetic youth, was their missing link. They had a talk after school over popsicles and it was there that 3+ was born. Or rather, its prototype. With limited resources, they were stuck as just a normal garage band. Not that they complained. Betty took up the drums, Adrian vocals and Kieran obviously on the guitar. They had the vision for greatness and lacked the means for it, but were satisfied with the music made nonetheless.

High school was where another development in his life rose. For some reason, Kieran just could not grasp the lessons of the year and would regularly fail tests that should be easy for the normal student. Indeed, he found that he would be held back a year and at first thought nothing of it. He'd just try again harder. But his mind could not cooperate and he was held back another year. And then another until his bandmates graduated. Normally, kids fresh out of high school would head on to the big cities for college, but such was the loyalty of his bandmates. Bryn and Adrian chose to remain in Westworth, to accompany Kieran and help him graduate however possible. At this time, 3+ had grown enough that they now had the means to create more advanced types of music and branched out to different genres, from synth-pop to ragga metal. They regularly performed in small gigs around town and there Kieran poured in his true energy. School was a lost cause in his eyes, almost completely were it not for the determination to graduate.

And show the whole school who was boss.

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Academics

║ Extra Curricular Activities & Sports ║

On the suggestion from his father, Kieran does Theatre and Improv. Not particularly fond of it, but he does it for him because he's a good son. <3

║ Reputation ║

Widely known as the oldest junior and the dude that got held back for a long-ass three years. Take pity on him.Also comes late every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for unknown reasons. Kieran is also known for being in 3+, a fraction of the students's favorite local multi-genre band and for being an absolute animal on stage. There's a reason why 3+ isn't allowed to perform on school grounds and it's only because of him.

║ Best subjects, Worst subjects ║

Good at Music and English, Shit at literally everything else.

║ Extra information ║

I think I forgot to mention that he was lazy.

Closed. Free Pass has been rebooted.

Sort of WIP, almost done aside from backstory and polishing. Just let me know your impressions.

Oh, and uh, hi.

Kieran Hamasaki

Key or Mophead, interchangeable

---

---

"People are more than their failures. People are more than their successes."

---

---

For the Record

║ Name ║

Kieran Hamasaki

║ Birthday & Age ║

Seventh of May, 19 as of present day

║ Gender & Sexual Orientation ║

Male, heterosexual

║ Other Labels ║

The Music Maniac/Garage Band Kid, The Laziest One, The 19-Year-Old Junior ("This year will be the year, trust me!")

║ Occupation ║

Guitarist, musical director, leader and founder of local band 3+ (pronounced three-sum/threesome)

║ Appearance ║

Kieran is a tall kid (or man, rather), standing at a respectable 6 inches, with a scrawny build that hides a lot of strength. He has toned olive skin, brown and messy hair, which was once black but now dyed bleached blond and sometimes bright red. The entirety of his...'aesthetic' (God, he hates that word) speaks of a lazy, uncaring, detached man. He always stands slouched and his default face is a drooped bitch face as if he's either tired or pissed. Usually the former. The only time he ever shows energy is when you put a test in front of him or a guitar in his hands.

Key dresses as much as he needs to and normally buys the cheapest clothes possible. Though he is loath to wear the same thing over and over and over like an anime character, his personal favorites include a secondhand flannel shirt, a black parka and a pair of dark jeans with various logos stitched into them.

---

---

"Never tell yourself 'you should be someone else'
Stand up tall and say 'I'm not afraid'"

---

---

At First Glance

║ Personality ║

The Positive:

• Crafty
• Genuine
• Free-spirited
• Humble

The Negative:

• Lazy
• Bitter
• Lazy
• Insensitive
• Lazy
• Did I mention lazy?

What You See:
So say you've happened along the 19 year old junior. The dude who got held back not once, not twice, but three times. Three times. It's suffice to say that he's quite pissed about it. Kieran definitely acts pissed; bump into him on the hallwayu and nine times out of ten, he'll give you some colorful words and a shove for the trouble. It's...nothing personal, trust me. Manage to get a conversation going and you'll find he has quite some stories to tell. For a young adult, he seems to act more like an old war veteran; bitter, jaded and always giving you some stories of what it was in his day whether you actually like it or not. Key is notably warmer if you bring up music. That's always been his true passion and one of the few things he genuinely cares about in the world.

One does not simply get held back three times. Kieran is noticeably book-dumb, damn near every class he takes ends up in failure. He personally believes that it's because the system is broken, but it's really because he's lazy and unambitious. He cares very little in things like academics and as such, pours none of his enthusiasm into it. Lack of energy coupled with idiocy does not a star student make. Key isn't always lazy all the time, mind you. Put him on an instrument and he'll get crackalackin' like it's 1999. On the stage is where you get to see a fully passionate Kieran and it is beautiful.

What I Know:
Kieran doesn't exactly hide much. What you see is what you get, basically. To hide any part of himself from the world is a grave sin in his eyes. That said, there are some things that don't immediately stand out until you talk to him, and I mean really talk to him. For one, he despises romance, for his father's life was ruined by the ill hope brought upon by love. He also thinks very, very lowly of himself, perhaps stemming from three consecutive years of failure. Unintentional humility is what the guidance counselor calls it.

---

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"ere we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why." - Kurt Vonnegut

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Off the Record

║ My Dreams ║

Graduate and prove his teachers that they ain't shit.

And also to elevate his band to the level of greatness it surely deserves. He would not enjoy the fame and glory, but his bandmates would. Key owed them that much.

║ Fears ║

• Fire
• Losing the music

║ Likes ║

• Music of all shapes and sizes
• Sleeping
• Dad
• 5-buck ice tea from the convenience store
• Dogs
• Sushi

║ Dislikes ║

• School
• Homework
• Tests
• His good-for-nothing teachers
• Anarchy
• Cats
• Idiots that listen to only one genre of music
• The bitch (otherwise known as Mom)

║ Brief History ║

Umm, later.

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---

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Academics

║ Extra Curricular Activities & Sports ║

On the suggestion from his father, Kieran does Theatre and Improv. Not particularly fond of it, but he does it for him because he's a good son. <3

║ Reputation ║

Widely known as the oldest junior and the dude that got held back for a long-ass three years. Take pity on him.Also comes late every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for unknown reasons. Kieran is also known for being in 3+, a fraction of the students's favorite local multi-genre band and for being an absolute animal on stage. There's a reason why 3+ isn't allowed to perform on school grounds and it's only because of him.

║ Best subjects, Worst subjects ║

Good at Music and English, Shit at literally everything else.

║ Extra information ║

I think I forgot to mention that he was lazy.

Torn Realms (High-Fantasy) (Mid-High Casual) [ALWAYS OPEN]

@Jeyma MEMES

Saisei: Another Dynamic Naruto AU Roleplay!

I am interested. Why am I interested, though? I hate Naruto ironically.

Does starting as genin mean all of our characters will be pre-teens? The only old genin I know of is that really old one and Guy's dad who was played for laughs.

Torn Realms (High-Fantasy) (Mid-High Casual) [ALWAYS OPEN]

Rowan Redpath

Basic Information

Full Name: Rowan Redpath 'the Betrayer'
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Birth Date: 14/04
Race: Humani
Alignment: Neutral, formerly Nephilim, now branded a being of chaos

Appearance

Hair Colour: An odd mix of brown and blond
Eye Colour: Green
Face Shape: Oblong
Skin Tone: Tanned
Height: 6'2" / 190 cm
Weight: 185 lb / 84 kg
Body Type: Toned, muscular
Natural Markings: Runes of Raziel on his chest, most have been forcibly removed
Scar(s): A straight gash on his left forehead, several scratch marks on the back of his shoulders
Tattoo(s): None

Personality

3 Words: Reckless, Jaded, Commanding
Like(s): Valorous combat (in his words, 'a good fight'), courtesy, simplicity, younger women
Dislike(s): Things that waste his time, arrogance, the Nephilim and their self-righteousness, annoying kids

Want(s): A family and a quiet life
Fear(s): Dying without purpose

Favourite...

Colour(s): Mahogany
Time of Day: High noon
Food: Smoked veal
Animal: Horse
Place in Terra: None

Skills and Attributes

Skills

Special Abilities: Though he has since been purged of his Nephilim powers, Rowan remains as one of the finest combatants to grace the Nephilim ranks in recent years. A nimble sword-and-board fighter, he can overpower lesser opponents by the time they get one hit on him. His Braidh strangely still answers to him also, though remaining static as a burning blade to scorch his enemies, be they defiled or holy. Rowan names it 'Glengarrion', after a knight from his childhood stories.
Good at...: Combat, persuasion and seduction, empathy
Bad at...: Holding a drink, magic, following orders

Traits

Good Habit(s): Shows at least the bare minimum of respect for his fellow living beings, no matter how deep into Alithe's teaching they might be.
Bad Habit(s): Has a bad tendency to act rashly and without care of the consequences.

History

The Past

Rowan Redpath, born of nobility to the wealthy and powerful Redpath family, grew up with tales of fancy concerning valiant knights slaying horrifying beasts with utmost bravery. When he heard that such heroes existed in real life in the form of Raziel's Nephilim, it seemed certain that he would do anything in his power to become one of them. Playing with the maids and studying under the snooty governesses were soon replaced with practicing swordplay and cool one-liners, at his own behest. His father did not exactly approve of this sudden aspiration (he wanted for his son to start a business one day just like he had done in his youth, after all), but as he saw Rowan to be happy in this path, what could a father really do at that point? Soon enough, the juvenile became the only warrior in a family full of merchants and artisans. Not that they were complaining. His 'knightly' antics at the dining table was amusing, if not inspiring.

The years rolled on until Rowan finally found himself steeled up and prepared to present himself to the Nephilim. This was the most intense moment of his young life; never before had he been tested and having to prove himself of worth to the Avenging Angel, Guardian of Life and Order. He rode to the Institute and, like most aspirants, was well-received, but warned of the dangers in undertaking this burden. With zeal, he declared himself ready and sought the audience of Raziel himself. Much to his elation (and pain), the Angel infused his energies into the boy and deemed him worthy. In the ranks of the Nephilim, Rowan proved to be a magnificent slayer of evil. Some would dare say that he was the best swordfighter in recent Nephilim memory. Many beings of chaos would fall to the burning edge of Glengarrion, his sacred blade and badge of office.

However, like many, Rowan came into the Nephilim expecting an organization of pure good and upstanding guardians of order, fighting against an unstoppable wave of evil. The world, of course, was much grayer than that. There were many instances where he was forced to slay seemingly normal people, who had surrendered and laid down their arms. The screams they made from the pain of consecration was a different pain in itself. Doubts were not uncommon among the Nephilim, but for Rowan, it was especially severe. So wide-eyed and naive he was at the start and yet, now it felt like everything he knew was wrong.

It all came to a head when he was tasked to investigate a recent string of brutal murders in a small out-of-the-way village. Based on the condition of the found bodies, it was heavily suspected that a being of chaos was behind the killings and Rowan was naturally given a kill order on the culprit. Further scrutiny revealed, however, that these victims were all vile men and women in life. Robbers, murderers, rapists and vandals had been the portfolios of the fallen. In Rowan's mind and indeed a majority of the villagers, this particular killer seemed to be doing a service and didn't deserve punishment.

Being a good detective and all, Rowan discovered the bestial killer, a woman with sickly wings on her back and sharp teeth, like a gargoyle manifest. He knew that this...thing was a thing of chaos, but one that had done some measure of good for the world at large. In a bold move, he unsheathed his blade and approached the woman. They had a bit of a chat, believe it or not. A chat spanning order and chaos. She introduced herself as Rayu, a Fleshspinner, apparently monks that alter their body through rituals that confused him. Rowan told her that he'd make sure she would not be subject to punishment from the Nephilim as long as she continued to feed on the scum of society and not to the well meaning people he was meant to protect. Rayu agreed to those terms, confirming his assumptions that she had a noble heart underneath it all. Eventually, they had to part ways, but promised to keep in touch however possible. She also asked to him a favor: to deliver a message to her fellow Fleshspinner friend, Shertul, that she was alive and well. He saw no problem in doing that and the two polar opposites went their separate ways, Rowan back to report and Rayu to wherever.

But before anyone got far enough, two of his Nephilim superiors arrived to 'aid' Rowan in his quest. They moved to slay Rayu with extreme prejudice. Not forgetting his promise to her, Rowan charged at his would-be comrades and fought them, much to their confusion. This gave her time to slip away unharmed and undetected. Giving her time to gain fair distance, Rowan kept them locked in combat. In rank, they were greater, but not in skill they weren't compared to him. Once he was certain she would be safe, he surrendered and Rowan was brought before Raziel to be judged.

Rowan could've easily lied, easily concealed the truth of the events, but he did not believe it to be knightly to hide the truth. He told the angel what had transpired, the identity of the killer and the victims and how he made the decision to spare the killer for she was doing the village a service. Obviously, the zealous Nephilim did not think the same way and reprimanded him heavily for this grievous transgression. Raziel admired his courage and honesty, but the word of the Nephilim was law which had to be upheld. And so Rowan Redpath was punished with...exile. An unprecedented penalty, he was expelled from Raziel's servitude and his powers ripped away (the process was even more painful than infusion). Never would he contact the Nephilim again lest he would be treated as a simple monster: to be ridiculed and slain if provoked. His Braidh Glengarrion refused to leave his side for some reason, so they opted to let him keep it, but only as a blade. Rowan left the Institute that day, his dream crushed, but his honor intact.

The Present

Like most men whose life revolves their sword arm, Rowan wanders the land to lend his fighting skills for whoever's willing to pay. His family would like him to settle back with them, but he fears that he can only bring them misfortune so stays far away. Even though he has since ended his watch with the Nephilim, he has never forgotten what his duty means. Any chance he gets to stick a middle finger to Alithe and her forces, he'll take it. Occasionally, he'll cross paths and, eventually, blades with a Nephilim on his way, but makes sure to spare them. He was usually the one to claim victory: few Nephilim knew how to effectively fight one of their own.

To this day, Rowan has not forgotten the promise he made to Rayu. He has not crossed paths with her again, but will make sure the fresh corpse of a criminal for her to feast on. His query, Shertul, remains as elusive as she is and he begins to wonder whether he did the right thing in sparing her. Seeing as she is probably somewhere doing good work, Rowan thinks so.

Memories

• His first spar (also his first loss)
• That time he avoided punishment by winning a spar
• His first kiss and soon after, loss of virginity
• The day he stood before Raziel
• His first mission (also his first failed mission)
• His encounter with Rayu and facing off against friends to save her
• Being ripped of his powers

Torn Realms (High-Fantasy) (Mid-High Casual) [ALWAYS OPEN]

Behold, my idea manifest. This was the shortest time between the making of two unrelated characters I've done.

Hider

Basic Information

Full Name: Rowan Redpath 'the Betrayer'
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Birth Date: 14/04
Race: Humani
Alignment: Neutral, formerly Nephilim, now branded a being of chaos

Appearance

Hair Colour: An odd mix of brown and blond
Eye Colour: Green
Face Shape: Oblong
Skin Tone: Tanned
Height: 6'2" / 190 cm
Weight: 185 lb / 84 kg
Body Type: Toned, muscular
Natural Markings: Runes of Raziel on his chest, most have been forcibly removed
Scar(s): A straight gash on his left forehead, several scratch marks on the back of his shoulders
Tattoo(s): None

Personality

3 Words: Reckless, Jaded, Commanding
Like(s): Valorous combat (in his words, 'a good fight'), courtesy, simplicity, younger women
Dislike(s): Things that waste his time, arrogance, the Nephilim and their self-righteousness, annoying kids

Want(s): A family and a quiet life
Fear(s): Dying without purpose

Favourite...

Colour(s): Mahogany
Time of Day: High noon
Food: Smoked veal
Animal: Horse
Place in Terra: None

Skills and Attributes

Skills

Special Abilities: Though he has since been purged of his Nephilim powers, Rowan remains as one of the finest combatants to grace the Nephilim ranks in recent years. A nimble sword-and-board fighter, he can overpower lesser opponents by the time they get one hit on him. His Braidh strangely still answers to him also, though remaining static as a burning blade to scorch his enemies, be they defiled or holy. Rowan names it 'Glengarrion', after a knight from his childhood stories.
Good at...: Combat, persuasion and seduction, empathy
Bad at...: Holding a drink, magic, following orders

Traits

Good Habit(s): Shows at least the bare minimum of respect for his fellow living beings, no matter how deep into Alithe's teaching they might be.
Bad Habit(s): Has a bad tendency to act rashly and without care of the consequences.

History

The Past

Rowan Redpath, born of nobility to the wealthy and powerful Redpath family, grew up with tales of fancy concerning valiant knights slaying horrifying beasts with utmost bravery. When he heard that such heroes existed in real life in the form of Raziel's Nephilim, it seemed certain that he would do anything in his power to become one of them. Playing with the maids and studying under the snooty governesses were soon replaced with practicing swordplay and cool one-liners, at his own behest. His father did not exactly approve of this sudden aspiration (he wanted for his son to start a business one day just like he had done in his youth, after all), but as he saw Rowan to be happy in this path, what could a father really do at that point? Soon enough, the juvenile became the only warrior in a family full of merchants and artisans. Not that they were complaining. His 'knightly' antics at the dining table was amusing, if not inspiring.

The years rolled on until Rowan finally found himself steeled up and prepared to present himself to the Nephilim. This was the most intense moment of his young life; never before had he been tested and having to prove himself of worth to the Avenging Angel, Guardian of Life and Order. He rode to the Institute and, like most aspirants, was well-received, but warned of the dangers in undertaking this burden. With zeal, he declared himself ready and sought the audience of Raziel himself. Much to his elation (and pain), the Angel infused his energies into the boy and deemed him worthy. In the ranks of the Nephilim, Rowan proved to be a magnificent slayer of evil. Some would dare say that he was the best swordfighter in recent Nephilim memory. Many beings of chaos would fall to the burning edge of Glengarrion, his sacred blade and badge of office.

However, like many, Rowan came into the Nephilim expecting an organization of pure good and upstanding guardians of order, fighting against an unstoppable wave of evil. The world, of course, was much grayer than that. There were many instances where he was forced to slay seemingly normal people, who had surrendered and laid down their arms. The screams they made from the pain of consecration was a different pain in itself. Doubts were not uncommon among the Nephilim, but for Rowan, it was especially severe. So wide-eyed and naive he was at the start and yet, now it felt like everything he knew was wrong.

It all came to a head when he was tasked to investigate a recent string of brutal murders in a small out-of-the-way village. Based on the condition of the found bodies, it was heavily suspected that a being of chaos was behind the killings and Rowan was naturally given a kill order on the culprit. Further scrutiny revealed, however, that these victims were all vile men and women in life. Robbers, murderers, rapists and vandals had been the portfolios of the fallen. In Rowan's mind and indeed a majority of the villagers, this particular killer seemed to be doing a service and didn't deserve punishment.

Being a good detective and all, Rowan discovered the bestial killer, an abomination of a woman with twisted features and sickly limbs. Clearly, this...thing was a thing of chaos, but one that had done some measure of good for the world at large. In a bold move, he unsheathed his blade and approached the creature, no, woman. They had a bit of a chat, believe it or not. A chat spanning order and chaos. She introduced herself as Rayu, a Fleshspinner, apparently monks that alter their body through rituals that confused him. Rowan told her that he'd make sure she would not be subject to punishment from the Nephilim as long as she continued to feed on the scum of society and not to the well meaning people he was meant to protect. Rayu agreed to those terms, confirming his assumptions that she had a noble heart underneath all those misshapen limbs. Eventually, they had to part ways, but promised to keep in touch however possible. She also asked to him a favor: to deliver a message to her fellow Fleshspinner friend, Shertul, that she was alive and well. He saw no problem in doing that and the two polar opposites went their separate ways, Rowan back to report and Rayu to wherever.

But before anyone got far enough, two of his Nephilim superiors arrived to 'aid' Rowan in his quest. They moved to slay Rayu with extreme prejudice. Not forgetting his promise to her, Rowan charged at his would-be comrades and fought them, much to their confusion. This gave her time to slip away unharmed and undetected. Giving her time to gain fair distance, Rowan kept them locked in combat. In rank, they were greater, but not in skill they weren't compared to him. Once he was certain she would be safe, he surrendered and Rowan was brought before Raziel to be judged.

Rowan could've easily lied, easily concealed the truth of the events, but he did not believe it to be knightly to hide the truth. He told the angel what had transpired, the identity of the killer and the victims and how he made the decision to spare the killer for she was doing the village a service. Obviously, the zealous Nephilim did not think the same way and reprimanded him heavily for this grievous transgression. Raziel admired his courage and honesty, but the word of the Nephilim was law which had to be upheld. And so Rowan Redpath was punished with...exile. An unprecedented penalty, he was expelled from Raziel's servitude and his powers ripped away (the process was even more painful than infusion). Never would he contact the Nephilim again lest he would be treated as a simple monster: to be ridiculed and slain if provoked. His Braidh Glengarrion refused to leave his side for some reason, so they opted to let him keep it, but only as a blade. Rowan left the Institute that day, his dream crushed, but his honor intact.

The Present

Like most men whose life revolves their sword arm, Rowan wanders the land to lend his fighting skills for whoever's willing to pay. His family would like him to settle back with them, but he fears that he can only bring them misfortune so stays far away. Even though he has since ended his watch with the Nephilim, he has never forgotten what his duty means. Any chance he gets to stick a middle finger to Alithe and her forces, he'll take it. Occasionally, he'll cross paths and, eventually, blades with a Nephilim on his way, but makes sure to spare them. He was usually the one to claim victory: few Nephilim knew how to effectively fight one of their own.

To this day, Rowan has not forgotten the promise he made to Rayu. He has not crossed paths with her again, but will make sure the fresh corpse of a criminal for her to feast on. His query, Shertul, remains as elusive as she is and he begins to wonder whether he did the right thing in sparing her. Seeing as she is probably somewhere doing good work, Rowan thinks so.

Memories

• His first spar (also his first loss)
• That time he avoided punishment by winning a spar
• His first kiss and soon after, loss of virginity
• The day he stood before Raziel
• His first mission (also his first failed mission)
• His encounter with Rayu and facing off against friends to save her
• Being ripped of his powers

Grand Theft Auto: The Syndicate

A good counterpart to ex-Military, ex-Terrorist! Placing this idea here for a later time in the storyline. Maybe he could be tasked with wiping out the Syndicate if they cause too much trouble.

Mikhail Kamarov

His Car

Technically it's a company car, registered under Agent Sally Whitman.

Type: Declasse Premier
License Plate: 7AJN247

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IAAPDB

3KAB04G

^{P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N}

SURNAME

【 KAMAROV 】

FIRST NAME

【 MIKHAIL 】

ALIAS (ES)

Misha (presumably)

DATE OF BIRTH

08/19/1980

CLASSIFICATION

CONSIDERED DANGEROUS

AFFILIATIONS

[color=lightgray][/color] IAA

STATUS

ALIVE

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^{P H Y S I C A L A P P E A R A N C E}

RACE Chechen
SEX Male
APPARENT AGE 36
HEIGHT Approx: 5'11"
WEIGHT Approx: 165 lb
HAIR LENGTH Short, barely ear-length
HAIR COLOR Dirty blond
EYE COLOR Bronze
SKIN TONE Fair

ADDITIONAL NOTES

• On his left and right wrists respectively, he has henna tattoos of the following words in Arabic script: الأنصار (Al Ansar or The Helpers) and أم مكتوم (Umm Maktum or Mother of the Concealed).

^{P S Y C H E V A L}

DESTRUCTIVE? N
DANGEROUS? Y
UNDER SURVEILLANCE? Y
PRIORITY? Orange

ADDITIONAL NOTES

A trained counter-terrorist who is hard to break and has faith even tougher. Cooperative to a fault, but extremely difficult to interrogate. Didn't even need to train him. He's a devout Muslim, which naturally influences his behavior. For one, multiple tests have proven that he has never consumed anything pertaining to alcohol in his 36 years of life and doubtful that he will start anytime soon. Markedly remorseless and does not regret any of the brutal killings he has committed. He doesn't really make small talk, but polite to our agents nonetheless. Fluent in Russian, English, Arabic, Chechen and Urdu. Has a thing for professional tennis and Princess Robot Bubblegum.

^{H I S T O R Y}

KNOWN FAMILY

Family unknown

KNOWN RESIDENCE 0325 South Rockford Drive, Apartment 201, Little Seoul

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Even if he is our weapon, what we know of him is limited since he doesn't appear in regular Los Santos records. He was born in Chechnya and at some point was recruited into the separatist movement. He got extensive training in combat and the actions of his faction would have a hand in forcing a ceasefire from the Russian side. For a long time, he was off the grid, but suddenly appeared in Los Santos in 2003, with a Russian Mob entourage. Our agents were tasked with getting in touch with him due to his extensive skills in terror tactics and soon he was quietly recruited as a special agent, our little trump card against the terrorists. Aside from giving him leads to terrorist cells for him to exterminate, he has pretty much free reign.

^{C R I M I N A L R E C O R D A N D K N O W N I M A G E S}

05/02/2015, Chumash, twenty one counts of first degree murder, two counts of arson, would be given the death penalty were it not for us pulling some important strings.

Pictures Gathered from Various Sources

^{O F F T H E R E C O R D}

CHARACTER'S DIALOGUE COLOR WHATEVER COLOR THIS IS
FACE CLAIM'S NAME Joel Kinnaman
CHARACTER'S RANK IN ORGANIZATION Unknown