Sniblet

Legion of Chaos: A World-Conquering Multidimensional Supervillain RP

Tyrant in Splendour

Name: OPHANIM (traditionally written in allcaps, think “the LORD”; not an acronym)

Epithets: Divine Beyond; Lord of Hosts; Shroud of Heaven; Beacon of Salvation; Perfector; Tyrant in Splendour; etc

Age: ~2000 years

Home-Plane: The plane of OPHANIM, once a medieval fantasy archetype, was conquered and utterly reshaped within mere centuries of its manifestation, and now lies permanently bathed in searing light. Its inhabitants, once human, orc, and elf, are now – better. Tall, crystalline, polygonal, featureless, identical humanoids populate land, sea, and sky, pursuing no purpose but their faith. Idolatry is a capital sin. Doubt is a capital sin. Freedom is a capital sin. Only the sinful know death in its eternal embrace.

Description: It may manifest as a large, symmetrically faced, androgynous humanoid in white, otherwise superficially resembling nearby mortals; a searing yellow or white glow with no source; or a wheel of perpetual flame laced with never-blinking, never-still, bloodshot eyes. When humanoid, its eyes are never visible. The stories say that they glow so brightly that they instantly incinerate the evil. Stories that are never told in OPHANIM’s realm debate the meaning of evil in this case.
OPHANIM is fierce, commanding, and fanatically stubborn, as if relentlessly following the commandments of a twisted holy book never written. It never raises its voice, but its voice is said to boom exactly as loudly as it needs to, even if that is loud enough to bring a forest to knee.

Backstory: OPHANIM may be recognized as an archetype that appears in stories across many shards, but its tale is true in only one. The stories follow similar basic premises: the road to hell, and you know the rest. Sometimes it is a king. Sometimes it is an adventurer. Rarely, it is an angel – perhaps you’ve heard of Lucifer. In no telling is it known as what it is: an utterly inhuman elder spirit obsessed by the trappings of divinity. There were never good intentions.
The Shard was taken like every sealed treasure of OPHANIM’s world; a vault was found, followers commanded to gather as a flock and retrieve it. Traps and enchantments were shoved aside with force of numbers. Only the sinful died in that crusade. Do not doubt this.

Shard: The Book of Perfect Light is kept in OPHANIM’s possession at all times. The Book of Perfect Light is said to contain the whole of OPHANIM’s doctrines, written plain. The contents of the Book of Perfect Light have never been read by any mortal being. The Book of Perfect Light is not full of often incoherent, wholly self-contradictory dictates writ tightly in a script only OPHANIM can comprehend. Do not doubt this.

Powers: OPHANIM’s power is broad, but relies universally on faith and followers. Its golden-tongued missionaries shout its truth from the mountains, and listeners are taken by the unnatural draw held by its arbitrary doctrine. Its faith is intransigent. Its followers worship madly and fervently in pursuit of mutually exclusive visions of paradise, and at the peak of their faith, when a village, city, continent shouts its name in unison, OPHANIM drinks of their love, and rebuilds them into something without it.
In those parts of Creation it has reached into and perfected, its power is like a god's. Shrieking streaks of light erupt from the temples built in its name to shatter the armies of the as-yet unfaithful. Its perfected followers are nearly as vicious, their form beyond pain, beyond fear and doubt, beyond hunger and thirst, and beyond what most beings would call morality.

OOC/TLDR

Eldritch thing with a Biblical(ly accurate)/divine light theme. Drastically more powerful and versatile in places where it is worshipped. Its religion is unnaturally alluring, compensating for the fact that a critical eye would realize it’s an insane totalitarian. It seizes absolute control of its most devoted followers down to shaping their body and soul into its uniform vision of perfection.

Misc: A playable entity in the superbly obscure indie game Shadows of Forbidden Gods. This iteration makes a lot of extrapolations from a character that had precious little actual character. I hope this counts as original.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

^{Right now I'm listening to: something to keep my head on straight. It doesn't feel appropriate at all.}
Jitters. Bad jitters. Really bad jitters. They were bad when she woke up. They got better when she went practice flying. Now they're back. And they're bad. But Indra's been taught to act against her feelings from time to time; she nods at the simple order, clings desperately to the directions, and looks to Myron... speaking of acting against her feelings. But, shit, she's one of the leads - she has to be seen volunteering herself to him fast. She doesn't wait to see if Noel moves. Should she?

"Let's go, then," she tells him, apparently calm and trusting. As she approaches her transport, she conjures Dís. She doesn't spread her wings wide like the photos, but those who know of the Valkyrie would recognize her now if ever. She sighs, and tries to keep it under her breath.

On the other side, what comes first? - assess the surroundings. Next? - find her team.

Hannie is watching. Hannie is a little nervous. Hannie is passing this turn, staying close to Kaitlyn and far from... you know, the other woman.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

A piece of writing from Thrasybulus

Iker meets with the Admiral

The admiral briefly nodded to Noel before casting off and coursing through the departing, conversing Arms Masters towards his present quarry. In anticipation, Iker arose from his seat. No military would accept Iker's posture for standing at attention or at-ease casual, but he nonetheless displayed no visible disrespect, merely a quiet patience.
Abasolo acknowledged this recruit with a curt nod. "You wanted to embark with the patrol boats?"
"Not that I want it; I figure it'd be convenient to station myself there, in case Myron has critical path issues and whatnot. I just arrived, so I'm not currently fatigued. Assign me wherever you desire me."
Willingness and obedience: two valuable commodities. "What's your name, soldier?"
"Iker Orozco, a volunteer from..." Brazil? Mexico? "Latin America, sir. I have no rank yet."
"Do you bear reservations with Myron, Iker?"
Iker watched Myron and Noel depart for more private settings. "Not particularly. Everyone's committed heinous acts of some nature in their lifetimes. I don't hold grudges; they depress me rather quickly."
"So if I commanded you to employ Myron to board the ships, you'd do it?"
"Without hesitation, sir."
A subordinate who followed unquestioningly could be trusted with a gentler hand. "It doesn't matter one way or other; you add no stress to Agent Makaraig's load. I believe Noel has an introductory meeting with Lieutenant Larsdottir. You ought to fraternize with your colleagues. I'll send you up to accompany them, and let Noel know. Does that suffice?"
"It does, sir," Iker responded. "And please, enjoy your morning."
"I plan to." The admiral's workload precluded any enjoyment, but well-wishes should be repaid in kind.
Of course, Iker's reassignment was not only a way to immerse him into the group. It was also a chance for Noel to redeem his composure, and a subtle reassurance of the admiral's endorsement. Hopefully Noel would recognize the opportunity and capitalize appropriately.

And a collab

”Sison Auditorium – Newbies Getting Caught Up”

Ft. Letter Bee, Thrasybulus, Sniblet as Noel, Myron, Iker, Indra
Noel had asked Indra and Iker to meet him in his office, which he had made sure was swept clean of bugs and checked for convenient holes in the walls. He was in his chair as he said, "I must apologize for my unprofessional behavior earlier. Now, Second Lieutenant Larsdottir, Volunteer Orozco, Myron will be with us in a moment; we need him for this discussion."

And just a second later, the man in question, Myron Makarig himself, went inside the room, saying, "First Lieutenant, Second Lieutenant, Volunteer; I presume you three need the latest situation reports from the front? Or perhaps a recap of the past mission?"

Indra tenses as the clearly labelled serial traitor pops in behind her with little warning. She steps well aside to give him the floor, looks around to see if anyone else wants to respond...
"Well - I'm looking to the future, mainly. This is naval, right? What do we know about the bad guy boats right now? What's their NA situation? And who's on our team? The only faces I knew from the brief were you - Alonso, sir - and the Snake, and I'm not really clear on either of your - well, on anyone's abilities. I can work with printed dossiers, anything's better than where I'm at."
She dips her head a bit and clears her throat. She'd spoken more than she meant to, but it's all out at least.

"Well, I'm on your team, I suppose. Perhaps you can take comfort in that." Iker smiled. "Iker Orozco. I can control certain materials from a distance. These powers seem to be somewhat unique, from what I've read, so I guess getting everyone's powers will require an hour to itself." He bowed briefly. "I live in the present. Past missions, future predictions: so long as it doesn't affect my duties, I'm satisfied without it. Though I am surprised you have access to this sort of stuff."
"Ah, and one more thing. Feel free to call me Iker. Or Mr. Orozco, as the professionalism demands. 'Volunteer' sounds funny on occasion."

"Mr. Orozco, then," Noel said before turning to Indra, "I'll hand you the dossiers, including the ones about my powers," Noel then took out the relevant documents and handed them over to the Swedish lady. "As for the enemy forces' strength, they have at least one Aircraft Carrier, several Missile Cruisers, and at least dozens of Destroyers, Corvettes, and Minesweepers. I've also heard that they have their own group of Non-Zodiac Arms Masters; the 'Foriegn Volunteers Battalion', who in turn..."
He faced Myron, who explained:

"They're former Disablers and Hammer of Masters members who were let out of Chinese Prison - They're led by a mercenary, also a former Disabler, Mei Yuanyuan, one of my mentors, and she has a flying ship that if it flies slow enough, can circcumvent Ren Zhao's Noble Arm and just drop napalm on Mischief Reef," he then continued, "They also have other members, such as Dr. Denial, yet another former Disabler who denies that he had grown a Noble Arm at all, and... Sorhab, who fought for the Hammers' 'Malikate' in Syria."

"A large force, then. Much appreciated!" Iker stated, hands finding their respective pants pockets. He hadn't the impetus to comment on how the strength assessment was both overloading and vague, but his attitude indicated that he wasn't responsive to the information. He smiled again. "How's the morning treating you?" The question was directed at anyone and everyone.

She raises her hand briefly, in a very casual or off-handed wave. "Indra," she tells Iker. She takes the documents with a smile that communicates none of the dread associated with cram-reading.
"So - fleet tactics aren't my thing. What I'm hearing is jets, artillery, and an NA flyer that'll be moving at a very vulnerable speed at some point? And at least two mystery abilities, wielded by hostiles with questionable loyalties. Is that all we have?"
She looks sidelong at Iker, with an expression that reads concern. "Uh. Busy, so far."

"I know what Sorhab's ability is," said the young man. "It's the power to turn invisible and intagible as long as he does not try and interact with any person or object. This can be guarded against with certain specialized NA Powers or... Occult Tech."
Myron was trying not to reveal any more state secrets; he had learned his lesson from last time.

Iker nodded. "Please inform me if I can make your busy day less stressful, then, Indra. I've read a little bit on WWII, for passing entertainment, so hopefully that can help." He threw up a finger, a signal for a small teaching moment. "Did you know that over half of Japanese naval tonnage losses came from American submarines?" He turned to Myron. "Speaking of, what is our situation with those submarines? How many should we expect from the Chinese?"

Indra briefly entertains the question of whether she can fly underwater. She wishes that she'd tried before.
"Right. Submarines are bad. An enemy ghost is also really bad, that'll be worth... accounting for." She glances down at her reading and flips through some pages, skimming names, then noticing a pattern in ages and wincing softly.
"If... you have the time, I don't know if we have any plan going into this, and anyone with any military interest looks like an improvement over, uh..." 19... 15... 14... 13 years old.
"...what we have?"

Noel was the one who answered, "The Chinese have at least 24 Attack Submarines and 4 Nuclear Submarines in the theatre in general; ASEAN's own Submarine Fleet is much less, but Australia and its own Nuclear Subs are with us too."

Iker performed a few calculations in his head. "That's quite a lot of submarines." Whether that was the full summation of his calculations or whether he kept some computations hidden was indeterminate.
He scratched the back of his head. "Still, technology must have progressed forward leaps and bounds since WWII. Perhaps I'm just as useless as the rest. Then again, who could ever be fully prepared for World War III?"
He furrowed his brow. "But yes, the crowd this morning did seem more like a daycare than a proper platoon." He smiled. "I guess the admiral really is desperate! Fair enough; tenets of war and all that."

She sighs out her nose. Look over the papers. Scan the room.
"My schedule's packing fast. All I've heard so far is numbers, and what the op is for. If there's a plan, I need to find out who has it and get in on it. Does anyone have a full picture of what... we're going to be expected to do? How we're gonna move? Alonso, uh- Makaraig? Or do I go to the admiral?"
She's talking faster now, and the smile's gone.

Noel sighed and said, "Noble Arms have made concepts such as 'The Rights of the Child' hazy; I've been a Child Soldier ever since my Noble Arm manifested four years ago when I was twelve."
There was a bitter edge to his voice as he said, "I honestly despise this; rank and cash and position isn't enough compensation."
Then he finally addressed Indra and said, "The plan is basically be flown through a transport plane or be emailed by Myron onto the BRP Jose Rizal, which will sail with the flotilla to relieve Mischief Reef. That relief has two phases, one where we engage the Chinese Fleet, relying on Callie and Myron to transport teams of Arms Masters into the Chinese Capital Ships to disable them, and another where we buy time for the cargo ships to sail to our allies in Mischief Reef. Both phases are in danger from submarine attack, but the Qing Restoration Society's leader, Jin Li, has the power to control large amounts of water, allowing them to foil submarine attacks and giving us our main advantage - Maybe our only one."

Indra is quiet for a while, processing slowly. She flips around, looking for Callie's page.
"Okay. This is workable, thank you. This, uh... these are two-way portals? With Miss Caroline?" She looks up. "Are we just evaccing personnel? How many are we moving? Have we looked at our ways to cheat this?"

Noel corrected Indra, saying, "Supplying; Mischief Reef and the QRS are too valuable to just abandon as it and Ren Zhao's NA help cover the Philippines from China's Ballistic Missiles and Jin Li has been hurling Tsunamis at Chinese Positions from the location. If they aren't there, it's as good as a near-total loss in the South China Sea/West Philippine Sea.

"Oh. Oh, shit. So we're... supposed to be repelling the..." As much of the People's Navy as China's willing to commit, to protect, literally, a reef...
19, 15, 14, 13... It's not her job to question whether the reef is worth whatever disaster comes of the PN and ASEAN fleets slugging for even a minute. Surely the Arms Masters are, but, shit...
"Okay. Okay, so we need top-form for this. Rrright."

"Ah, sixteen. Makes sense," Iker commented, his body language and vocal cords refusing to elaborate further. "Should suffice for a nice resting spot when we're done; the folks around me seemed exhausted." His ears perked up. "Is 'top-form' strictly metaphorical, or do you have a 'top-form' with regards to your powers? Mine is pretty much even all-around."

Indra blinks. "Uh- oh. No, I just mean, all in order, no slips. Seeing as... you know. I'm pretty much just what I am once I've grown the wings."

The boy said, "I don't like this any more than you do, Second Lieutenant Indra, if I'm permitted to use that name. But yes, the political objectives of the mission are one, demonstrate ASEAN defiance of Chna, two, deepen Indonesian-Filipino cooperation, and three, aid the QRS in destabilizing the Chinese position in the Spratlys. None of those require that we survive -"

Myron interupted, "Actually, the Arms Masters are required to survive and will probably do so; ordinary folk are expendable - That's what got people into my previous group in the first place, if I may be so bold."

Noel ignored Myron to answer Iker, "My own 'veiling' powers are almost completely nullified at 11:00 to 13:00, when the Sun is highest in the sky, my ability to duplicate other B-rank NAs' powers work only when the Moon is out in the sky, both night and daytime, and my most powerful ability, a war crime, works only in the New Moon. My supernatural evasion works all the time, though, Mr. Orozco."

"Fair enough," Iker replied. "If you don't mind, Indra, I'd appreciate it if you... breathed. Relaxed a tad. You'll make it through this, I'm certain. I'm sure you've practiced enough. I can even look out for you specifically, if it'll ease your mind." He smiled. "Besides, things tend to slip up under too much stress!"
He then turned to Myron. "I'm expendable. You're expendable. Everyone's expendable in some manner or other. All that matters is what those around us get in exchange for our lives. One dead soldier is a hefty price for a square meter of land. One dead Arms Master is a cheap price for an aircraft carrier. That's why missiles are so popular nowadays. Personally, I'd like to die for a bargain."
He then glanced at Noel, who had just finished describing his war-crimes powers. "Good for you, sport!"

Indra puffs her cheeks a bit and lets out another sigh. "Votes of confidence regarding the worth of my life aside... I know. I'm not worrying about losing, I'm thinking about how hard it's going to be to win. It's how I was taught. I've got a lot of work in the next..."
She glances around for a clock. "Eleven hours and forty minutes, or so. Most of that work is sleep. There's reading. There's making sure everybody's on the same page about what the op is. At some point I've got to brush up aerial evasion..."
She straightens her paper stack and nods. "So, no further questions for me."

"Far be it from me to interrupt someone's practices," Iker commented. "Enjoy the study! As for myself, I got plenty of sleep on the plane ride over. I'd be concerned about jetlag, but-" He looked up at the same clock. "I don't think sleeping midday is going to help much anyways. I'm going to double check with Admiral Whats-His-Name. If he doesn't need me, I suppose I'll check out a few things. You folks know of any historical landmarks I can check out while I'm in the area?"

"Plenty," Noel said. "Try Urudja House."

"Much appreciated!" Iker replied, feigning the doffing of a cap he currently didn't wear before heading for the door. "Best of fortunes in tonight's endeavor! God bless us all!" The door didn't make a sound as it closed behind him.

Indra is close behind him, without a word.

END

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

^{Right now I'm listening to: something kinda tense.}

Indra nods to Noel's response to her, and catches a stranger's eyes as they send her a wave. She replies with a little bow of her fingers, a-
oh-
Is she...
The- that woman. Her surprise is probably showing. Noel had said Qingshe and all, but she'd kind of...
(holy shit that really is Lei Qingshe isn't it?)
No- she's the kind of woman who'll make her regret staring like that. She drops her hand and overwrites whatever limp expression she'd had with a friendly smile, before turning back to watch the questions. This is going to be something to think about later.

The questions turn out to be kind of wacky. Starting with some Greek boy saying the Seven Virtues want him to lead them (they have a hierarchy?) and Noel's prompt reveal that Alan Turing is - what, like - the father of magic? - and then some woman with what appears to be a preteen in her lap and a private's badge starts questioning Noel's (admittedly weird, but) command and-
And fuckingLeiQingshe stands up for about three minutes of sarcastic-sounding monologue?

Indra is feeling... um.
Yeah, that about sums it up. She's also feeling the beginnings of a headache. Half of these words have slipped right past her and she doesn't know where to begin with processing. What she's sure of is that if this team is always like this there's going to be a problem.
She's not the first in command right now and hardly the most experienced with this team or the circumstances out here, but she's got a brass badge and she's thinking about that fight 12 hours away, which might make her unique in this room.

Second Lieutenant Larsdottir stands up.
"With respect to everyone here - I think it would be most productive right now to discuss the mission that's right in front of us. I don't know... what all this Disabler-shit means, besides that Makaraig needs to sit some time before I'd put anyone's life in his hands, and I don't think that's up for debate."
She takes a breath. The swear kind of slipped out. Everybody at home said that Arms Master officers are even worse than the "real thing" when they didn't think she was listening...
"What I'm thinking is, do we have any command structure outside of this room, or any way to coordinate right now with the rest of the force that'll be at Mischief Reef? It sounds like we're going into this seriously underpowered and on very short notice, so every second spent not planning is very probably a lot of lost lives."
She glances back to Noel, and directly addresses him.
"First thing I want to say in terms of concrete strategizing - I'm not much of an air-to-air asset. I don't throw guided missiles, so I'm not likely to even scare an aircraft unless I get very close. I'm artillery first. Thank you, though, for the, ah... affable personality comment."

She watches her immediate superior's expression for any sign that she's spoken out of turn. Everybody's doing that anyway, but it feels like a time for bad first impressions, and she'd rather not be one of them.

Hannie is withdrawing again. This back-and-forth and here-and-there all feels very complicated and ultimately seems to be about nothing at all. Kaitlyn seems to have it handled, though, so she settles in on one of the only other people who appear to have no interest in this discussion.
Is Nil making a new friend?

Kaitlyn's chin drops onto her head. She blinks.
Well. She can't go see Nil like this. She just watches from a distance, and hopes the strange man talking to her is being nice. He looks Chinese, but like in a real way, not like whatever the snake is...

Oh, look. Another strange woman stands up and starts talking.
She huffs. She's kind of used to sitting through long silly talks, but they never got fun at home, and they aren't any better here.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

Hannie takes a moment to process the fact that she'd just been called "Private Calvert," and then quietly but visibly relaxes in her seat. While there's nothing fun about being here at all, what she's getting is that she's staying away from...
...
The images don't come to mind anymore when she calls for them. She's not sure why, but she's not mad.
This will be okay. It'll be like those shows, some tall guy in a mask says "scalpel" and she'll be right there with a scalpel. And she'll save people. Maybe give them lollipops after.
She follows Noel's attention to find Kaitlyn, and gives a little smile when she catches Kaitlyn's eyes already seeking her.

A few hours ago
A dark shape on the horizon soon proves not to be a bird, or a plane. Soldiers at their stations recoil and check their weapons as a woman dives from the sky, wings spread and spear in-hand. She flips herself and slows just short of the ground with a single, heavy wingbeat, and drops on her feet. She greets the men with a smile, going for a breast pocket on her tiny pink leather jacket.

"Halt," says one, stepping forward. "Identify yourself."

This proves a touch unnecessary, as the woman extracts and presents an ID card in the middle of his sentence.

"Indra Larsdottir, second lieutenant, B-B-A-B-C-C, just assigned to Obsidian, someone should've told you I was coming. I have no transportation and I'm alone, here's my bag."
She runs down her points quickly and matter-of-factly, in a somewhat dense Swedish accent that doesn't glaze the "i" in lieutenant.

Her wings quiver and wink out together with the spear, and she unstraps a duffelbag from her back. Weapons are lowered a bit. "Valkyrie" doesn't translate in Tagalog, so she knows what one of the men in the back says to the rest, and she flashes a brighter smile at him. Being recognized by strangers is... something she's getting used to, at least. But she didn't think it would happen away from home.

There hasn't been time to make friends yet. Indra, out of her favorite outfit and into something more standard-military - though she got her way with a custom pin depicting spread fluffy silver wings, just under the rank pin - sits anywhere for the briefing, tracking Noel as he addresses his audience, making mental notes of names and faces. After lingering a bit on Lotus Squadron to internalize all of them in one go, she raises an eyebrow at Noel, to find he's already moved on.

She raises her hand. When she gets her turn...
"First Lieutenant, right? Second Lieutenant Larsdottir. We should step aside later to get to know each other, and perhaps discuss where I'm best used."
She lets her hand drop, casting quickly over the audience around her before settling to watch for the reply.
Very stiff. Very professional. Maybe she can be more herself in private.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

The Valkyrie

Appearance:

Tall Scandinavian.
Also, Punk Valkyrie. Long blonde hair, partially dyed in whatever bright color is on her mind. Garters, ripped jeans, leather boots, tiny jackets. The shades stay on. Is this a JoJo reference?
The Valkyrie part is reserved to wing motifs on her clothes, until her Noble Arm comes out. The shield is not part of any regular ensemble.
5’11” / 181cm
161 lbs / 73kg

Name: Indra Larsdottir

Age: 21

Nationality: Swedish

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Dís, an ornate and impractically designed winged spear, twice her height in length. Indra has described it as “anime.” (Pictured in Appearance)

Noble Arm Rank:

B

Power: B
Speed: B
Range: A
Persistence: B
Precision: C
Potential: C

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Ranged, Pop Norse Mythology, Long-range

Noble Arm Abilities

Soul of Asgard: While Dís is manifested, Indra sprouts a pair of wings, made from a materialized form of her own soul - their texture has been described in many ways, including a lot of synonyms of "perplexing."
They are impenetrable and indestructible to any mundane force, as well as most known supernatural forces, and allow her to fly with near perfect maneuverability up to narrowly subsonic speed, ignorant of otherwise deadly G-forces.
She can grow them larger to shield herself or others, at a deadly sharp spike in stamina-over-time cost. She cannot safely manage a wingspan of over 6 meters.
If Indra's wings are severed (this would require digging into her back), the separation from her soul has... many interesting consequences, beginning with a Survivability coma. Dís is forcibly demanifested and Indra is left unconscious for 10 minutes. She should be all better when she wakes up.

Voice of Asgard: While Dís is manifested, Indra reverts to speaking in Old Norse, a language that she normally does not know. Anyone listening can understand her perfectly, and anyone that she chooses to address can hear her regardless of distance or interference, as long as she knows where they are. This ability extends to all conscious forms of life, though most animals can't reply, and hardly have to listen.

Valr: Indra is uncannily adept at using Dís as a weapon. She is undefeated in melee dueling (though she's only tried herself in training fights, the feat stands), and for long ranges, she can throw Dís in such a way that it rapidly accelerates through air up to Mach 6 and flies with negligible drop-off or deviation up to 60 kilometers, before sharply decelerating.
Any impact with a solid material that would normally halt or dramatically slow an object flying at such speed, will end this acceleration.
She can recall Dís back to her hand from any location using the same mechanics, sans the distance restriction, and catch it reliably with speed and reflexes otherwise inaccessible to her. This is slower, but often more convenient, than de- and re-manifesting it, especially midflight.
Due to the period of acceleration, her throw’s destructive power scales with distance, from that of a normal thrown spear at point-blank range, to that of a shoulder-launched rocket at 20 meters, to that of - though this isn’t really a comparison so much as a description - a hypersonic kinetic missile, past ten kilometers.

Glasir: A partially-developed healing ability, discovered very recently. By closing their eyes with her fingers, Indra can put a consenting person into a deathlike sleep. After exactly 27 hours, they rise in perfect health - better than they've ever felt - regardless of what happened to them in the meantime. Beginning and ending this process both take an enormous amount of energy from her, making this only conditionally worthwhile, especially for aiding Arms Masters.
“Consenting” doesn’t mean she has to ask and get a yes - after their eyes close, the patient will feel the tug of deep sleep, and must choose to give in, or else the feeling will simply pass. Getting legally recognized informed consent may help a patient choose to give in, but it isn’t needed to fully trigger Glasir.
If a patient dies while in the sleep of Glasir, Indra's stamina begins to take a sharp dive, and she goes into a Survivability coma within one minute. The 27-hour period is restarted, and both she and her patient remain disabled and dead for the duration. If Indra survives this period, the patient is resurrected, even from total obliteration... but Indra does not wake up. She will remain permanently comatose without extraordinarily intensive medical intervention.

Into Valhalla: When allies choose to follow Indra’s orders or lead - they must be following or obeying, not simply accompanying - in doing something mortally dangerous, all fear of the risks is dramatically mitigated, enabling cool heads or suicidal courage that might otherwise be unrealistic. This effect is weakened, but not absent, in Arms Masters. She will typically, but not necessarily, scream “Valhalla!” when she is invoking this - being more of the suicidal courage type herself.

Misc Abilities:
Indra has a strong, if debatably “good,” sense of fashion. Humor too.
Having been slated to become an officer for almost five years now, Indra is starting to learn how to order soldiers around without resorting to magic. She can also shoot a gun straight.
Indra can smooth-talk. Or talk-and-talk. Indra’s a talker.
Only in Swedish, Icelandic, and English though. And she’s nearly fluent in German, Russian (especially the swearing), and Italian. She… knows a few languages. It’s a hobby. Looks like Tagalog is next.
Indra could teach almost anyone a thing or two about petty theft. She returns what she takes, it’s just a game.

Personality:
Yes.
Indra dresses tough, but doesn’t mean anything by it: she just loves the look. She loves strongly and broadly. She pets strangers’ dogs. She hugs her friends tightly without asking. At parties, she excuses herself to see whoever’s alone and ask if they’re okay.
She may drop bits of sarcasm or dark humor for the right audience, but never rudely.
It’s the same in war. She may kill. But never rudely.

Likes:
Food, friends, f… umm… anime. Older is better, usually. Oh, music. Lots of music. Sabaton? Yellow Card? Jackson Five? Terraria OST? Try all at once. Animals, flowers, lollipops, pretty much all people. Looking good, feeling good, doing good.

Dislikes:
…what she has to do.

Fears:
Jumping and flying bugs. Losing touch with herself.

Bio:
Indra was happy with her normal life. High school was going brilliantly. Grades were good, social circle was great, family was proud of her. She was well on her way to a job in, well, it could’ve been anything. Anything she’d put her mind to. Maybe.
Today, she could be fresh out of college, interviewing for that “anything” she was so looking forward to doing. Maybe she’d already be at work. Maybe she’d have proven herself by now and been respected in her field… though that’s a stretch. She’d at least be friends with the manager.
But then there’s what the Norns had in mind for her. What she really is.
Dís’s arrival was almost five years ago – it felt like it should’ve been embarrassing. It was the end of her junior year, the end of finals week, the end of a good movie at the end of a good movie night. She just kind of pumped her fist and… and then there was a spear there. And she'd grown wings. And that was the end of her life.
Or it felt like it was. For a while. She might have been cut out for a lot of things, but “national symbol” wasn’t one of them. Neither was… the military… like, at all. But she made do.
Or she’s making do.
Or – okay – she’ll make do.
…hopefully…

Current Goal: Make do?
Military or Civilian Rank: 2nd Lieutenant

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

A while back before I died, I pitched the idea of promoting The Valkyrie into a played character in the GM server. She was reviewed and accepted privately for use in the second mission. To make sure that opinions haven't changed (especially considering there's a new GM set and I'm not one of them), here she is again.
If you've reviewed her before, there have been changes to her powers as of today - flavor, mostly, and a nerf to Valr's acceleration.
@Letter Bee @Gerlando @QJT @SkyHresvelg

The Valkyrie

Appearance:

Tall Scandinavian.
Also, Punk Valkyrie. Long blonde hair, partially dyed in whatever bright color is on her mind. Garters, ripped jeans, leather boots, tiny jackets. The shades stay on. Is this a JoJo reference?
The Valkyrie part is reserved to wing motifs on her clothes, until her Noble Arm comes out. The shield is not part of any regular ensemble.
5’11” / 181cm
161 lbs / 73kg

Name: Indra Larsdottir

Age: 21

Nationality: Swedish

Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Dís, an ornate and impractically designed winged spear, twice her height in length. Indra has described it as “anime.” (Pictured in Appearance)

Noble Arm Rank:

B

Power: B
Speed: B
Range: A
Persistence: B
Precision: C
Potential: C

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Ranged, Pop Norse Mythology, Long-range

Noble Arm Abilities

Soul of Asgard: While Dís is manifested, Indra sprouts a pair of wings, made from a materialized form of her own soul - their texture has been described in many ways, including a lot of synonyms of "perplexing."
They are impenetrable and indestructible to any mundane force, as well as most known supernatural forces, and allow her to fly with near perfect maneuverability up to narrowly subsonic speed, ignorant of otherwise deadly G-forces.
She can grow them larger to shield herself or others, at a deadly sharp spike in stamina-over-time cost. She cannot safely manage a wingspan of over 6 meters.
If Indra's wings are severed (this would require digging into her back), the separation from her soul has... many interesting consequences, beginning with a Survivability coma. Dís is forcibly demanifested and Indra is left unconscious for 10 minutes. She should be all better when she wakes up.

Voice of Asgard: While Dís is manifested, Indra reverts to speaking in Old Norse, a language that she normally does not know. Anyone listening can understand her perfectly, and anyone that she chooses to address can hear her regardless of distance or interference, as long as she knows where they are. This ability extends to all conscious forms of life, though most animals can't reply, and hardly have to listen.

Valr: Indra is uncannily adept at using Dís as a weapon. She is undefeated in melee dueling (though she's only tried herself in training fights, the feat stands), and for long ranges, she can throw Dís in such a way that it rapidly accelerates through air up to Mach 6 and flies with negligible drop-off or deviation up to 60 kilometers, before sharply decelerating.
Any impact with a solid material that would normally halt or dramatically slow an object flying at such speed, will end this acceleration.
She can recall Dís back to her hand from any location using the same mechanics, sans the distance restriction, and catch it reliably with speed and reflexes otherwise inaccessible to her. This is slower, but often more convenient, than de- and re-manifesting it, especially midflight.
Due to the period of acceleration, her throw’s destructive power scales with distance, from that of a normal thrown spear at point-blank range, to that of a shoulder-launched rocket at 20 meters, to that of - though this isn’t really a comparison so much as a description - a hypersonic kinetic missile, past ten kilometers.

Glasir: A partially-developed healing ability, discovered very recently. By closing their eyes with her fingers, Indra can put a consenting person into a deathlike sleep. After exactly 27 hours, they rise in perfect health - better than they've ever felt - regardless of what happened to them in the meantime. Beginning and ending this process both take an enormous amount of energy from her, making this only conditionally worthwhile, especially for aiding Arms Masters.
“Consenting” doesn’t mean she has to ask and get a yes - after their eyes close, the patient will feel the tug of deep sleep, and must choose to give in, or else the feeling will simply pass. Getting legally recognized informed consent may help a patient choose to give in, but it isn’t needed to fully trigger Glasir.
If a patient dies while in the sleep of Glasir, Indra's stamina begins to take a sharp dive, and she goes into a Survivability coma within one minute. The 27-hour period is restarted, and both she and her patient remain disabled and dead for the duration. If Indra survives this period, the patient is resurrected, even from total obliteration... but Indra does not wake up. She will remain permanently comatose without extraordinarily intensive medical intervention.

Into Valhalla: When allies choose to follow Indra’s orders or lead - they must be following or obeying, not simply accompanying - in doing something mortally dangerous, all fear of the risks is dramatically mitigated, enabling cool heads or suicidal courage that might otherwise be unrealistic. This effect is weakened, but not absent, in Arms Masters. She will typically, but not necessarily, scream “Valhalla!” when she is invoking this - being more of the suicidal courage type herself.

Misc Abilities:
Indra has a strong, if debatably “good,” sense of fashion. Humor too.
Having been slated to become an officer for almost five years now, Indra is starting to learn how to order soldiers around without resorting to magic. She can also shoot a gun straight.
Indra can smooth-talk. Or talk-and-talk. Indra’s a talker.
Only in Swedish, Icelandic, and English though. And she’s nearly fluent in German, Russian (especially the swearing), and Italian. She… knows a few languages. It’s a hobby. Looks like Tagalog is next.
Indra could teach almost anyone a thing or two about petty theft. She returns what she takes, it’s just a game.

Personality:
Yes.
Indra dresses tough, but doesn’t mean anything by it: she just loves the look. She loves strongly and broadly. She pets strangers’ dogs. She hugs her friends tightly without asking. At parties, she excuses herself to see whoever’s alone and ask if they’re okay.
She may drop bits of sarcasm or dark humor for the right audience, but never rudely.
It’s the same in war. She may kill. But never rudely.

Likes:
Food, friends, f… umm… anime. Older is better, usually. Oh, music. Lots of music. Sabaton? Yellow Card? Jackson Five? Terraria OST? Try all at once. Animals, flowers, lollipops, pretty much all people. Looking good, feeling good, doing good.

Dislikes:
…what she has to do.

Fears:
Jumping and flying bugs. Losing touch with herself.

Bio:
Indra was happy with her normal life. High school was going brilliantly. Grades were good, social circle was great, family was proud of her. She was well on her way to a job in, well, it could’ve been anything. Anything she’d put her mind to. Maybe.
Today, she could be fresh out of college, interviewing for that “anything” she was so looking forward to doing. Maybe she’d already be at work. Maybe she’d have proven herself by now and been respected in her field… though that’s a stretch. She’d at least be friends with the manager.
But then there’s what the Norns had in mind for her. What she really is.
Dís’s arrival was almost five years ago – it felt like it should’ve been embarrassing. It was the end of her junior year, the end of finals week, the end of a good movie at the end of a good movie night. She just kind of pumped her fist and… and then there was a spear there. And she'd grown wings. And that was the end of her life.
Or it felt like it was. For a while. She might have been cut out for a lot of things, but “national symbol” wasn’t one of them. Neither was… the military… like, at all. But she made do.
Or she’s making do.
Or – okay – she’ll make do.
…hopefully…

Current Goal: Make do?
Military or Civilian Rank: 2nd Lieutenant

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

Hannie/Kaitlyn Collab

Hannie is not on the battlefield and not at the auditorium, which means she's lost. There are a few obvious ways to track her: finding and asking the few soldiers who've seen her leave, asking Qingshe, or correctly guessing that Hannie would be going exactly away from where the fighting is.

Kaitlyn Price

Kaitlyn had assumed Hannie would be at the Auditorium - the one 'safe' place she could think of in this God forsaken place.

And she wasn't there.

To say this news threw her into a panic was an understatement. She was practically pulling her hair out, asking every poor soul she came across if they'd seen a little girl. It should have been easy, how many little girls would be out and about during this chaos? Not to mention, the entire area had become a semi-militant zone, so it's not like there'd be many of those just walking around.

By the time she'd found her, she'd already run half a dozen horrific scenarios through her mind.

"Hannie?"

She's alive. Thank God, she's alive! The one good thing in this city is still alive!

Standing a short distance away from the tiny Arms Master would be Kaitlyn Price, the most sorry looking girl to ever disgrace the face of the earth. Dried tear streaks stained her cheeks, and detritus from the battle with the Chinese still covered her. She hadn't exactly taken the time to collect herself since... All of this.

Hannie Cavalet

Kaitlyn's position as most sorry-looking girl ever is heavily contested. Hannie has had a Day.
She's sitting upright in the middle of the street, but she slouches deeply, and it looks like a firm wind would be enough to fold her. She's wearing one of Qingshe's protection outfits, and what can be seen of her face is far out of it.
Her eyes take a few seconds to climb up to Kaitlyn. She takes her in for another few seconds. She lets out a long breath, echoing in her helmet.
"hhhhhI don't know how to get this off," she says. Her voice is scratchy.

Kaitlyn Price

Tears threatened to resurface, and she wasn't sure why.

Instead of bursting into frantic tears, or finally just collapsing... She sniffles, wipes her nose, and calmly closes the distance between them.

"Here," she says quietly, kneeling down next to her. "Let me help you out of that."

And that's exactly what she does, if allowed. She can't think of anything to say, so she just... Doesn't.

Hannie Cavalet

In the fashion of its designer, the unsealing mechanism seems like it must be awfully complex on the backend, but is easy to operate. A few latches and levers stand in the way of getting the helmet off, and the whole suit loosens and deflates with quiet hisses all over. Was it pressurized? Like... spaceworthy?
Whatever it was, now it looks suspiciously like a discarded snakeskin. Hannie starts to scoot out of it with some difficulty, only because she can barely muster the strength to move herself, before Kaitlyn inevitably helps her out of this too, pulling her free and to her feet.
Hannie doesn't let go once she's out. She leans heavily on Kaitlyn and says nothing.

Kaitlyn Price

Kaitlyn holds her, and just... Breathes.

She's safe. She's okay. We're both okay...

"... Whenever you're ready."

Whenever you're ready, we can talk, or go, or whatever. I'm here for you.

Hannie Cavalet

Minutes pass. Hannie's breathing matches to Kaitlyn's. It's beginning to look like she's going to try falling asleep standing up when she finally speaks again.

"It's over?"

She doesn't look now, opting instead to keep her face buried in Kaitlyn, but she saw the volcano collapse. Anyone's guess why there was a volcano to begin with - or a second sun - or a war - but there had sure been one, and now there's not.

Well. Maybe there's still a war. Just, not here. Not now. Please?

Kaitlyn Price

"It's over," she whispers.

She shudders.

I took a life today. Several.

She'd watched people swallowed into the ground. The gravity Arms Master was probably dead, and Ari...

"It's over," she repeats, mostly just to reassure herself.

The tears come anyway.

Hannie Cavalet

Hannie feels Kaitlyn shaking and looks up. Watching her cry feels... bad. Should she cry too? She doesn't feel like she can anymore.

"'s okay," she mumbles, still scratchy-voiced. Thirsty, she realizes. Funny how that happens after fighting for her life, being shot twice, and maintaining a Noble Arm that kills her for about an hour and a half.

"It's over," she says, again.

Kaitlyn Price

she just nods.

Get yourself together, Kaitlyn! Don't do this. Not in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she sobs, unsure of who was leaning on who now.

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from this. You're just a child...

But she couldn't say it. She couldn't say anything for a good while, just pouring her soul out on a girl she barely even knows.

By the time she was done, she barely felt like she could even stand up. She felt hollow, and so... So tired.

Get up.

Sighing, she gets up, wiping off her face.

What a pathetic mess you are.

Yeah, maybe Kaity is a mess, but that's no excuse to fall apart right in front of Hannie.

Taking a moment longer to collect herself, she offers Hannie a smile that would make Spock raise a brow, and extends her hand.

"Come on, let's get you back and under some covers... Unless you need me to carry you?"

God knows I could use some carrying right about now.

Hannie Cavalet

Hannie turns to look the way Kaitlyn came from. The road looks daunting now. Kaitlyn, even though she doesn't act like it, doesn't look like she can take much more than a few steps supporting herself.

Child...

Hannie sighs. She forms her hand to hold its grip. She tries to reach for that thing inside her. She feels its texture... the beginning of its chill... but not its weight. And then it's gone.

She has nothing left.

Fine.

"We can walk together," she croaks.

Kaitlyn Price

she nods, again, unable to really summon up a stronger response.

And then they're on their way.

Kaitlyn sways, occasionally, as the adrenaline that fueled her search rapidly wears off. She was exhausted.

But she forced herself to keep going, one foot in front of the other.

A few minutes in... Or steps... However long- she gets a little lost.

"Which... Which way is the Auditorium?"

She slumps down onto her knees.

Get up.

She can't get up.

You need to get up.

"I'm sorry... Hannie... I need to take a short rest."

Hannie Cavalet

Hannie keeps going another few steps before the tug of Kaitlyn's hand stops her. She turns, and sees Kaitlyn on her knees. She looks back to the empty streets ahead, little different from when they started moving.

She... shouldn't stop. She lightly bites her lip, forming her hand for the grip again. She reaches for it... and can't even find it this time. She feels it whisper, but it's so far away - like it was before today, before it ever spoke.

She turns to Kaitlyn again, and goes to kneel down beside her. She digs into her pockets and pulls out some of the candy. She'd bought way too much, and Hannie wanted to give some back from the start.

"Okay. Let's rest. Want some?"

Kaitlyn Price

Kaitlyn smiles weakly and accepts one, but just kind of... Holds onto it. She'd probably choke on anything she put in her mouth right now.

She bought all of this junk food with that allowance I gave her.

The thought makes her giggle, and she reaches out to wrap her arms around the little girl.

"Thank you..."

She ends up dragging both of them to the ground, curling up around her as the exhaustion really settles in. She can't even keep her eyes open anymore.

...

Hannie Cavalet

"Mmh..."

Hannie blinks, then the surge of warmth from being wrapped entirely hits her hard. Her eyes... open... and then close again.

...

9/25/2022, 18:41 UTC+8

"That's, uh... miss Cavalet, I think. C-rank."
"One of the masters? What's she doing all the way out here?"
"Blocking the road."
"...buddy. Are they even alive?"
"Sure, I can hear the girl trying to breathe from here. Maybe I can write up the private for crushing her."
"Put your MP-brain to bed just for a sec, please. I'm gonna try and wake 'em up."
"Be gentle. Don't wanna spook an arms master."

Hannie Cavalet

...Hannie? Is that her name?
Hannie Cavalet, right.
Hannie? Can you hear me? Anybody home here?

Unhappily, she opens her eyes again, and meets a strange young man's toothy grin.

"Theeere you are. What's up? You two alright?"

She shifts and looks over at Kaitlyn, still covering her, more like an inordinately heavy blanket than a conscious human being for the moment.

"...sleepy."

The young man leans over to look at the front of Kaitlyn's uniform.

"Price? Private Price? Can you run that for me, she's more likely to listen to her first name."

"...don' wake her up."

"Oh, that's Kaitlyn, then. She goes by Kait sometimes."

"Kait, you awake too?"

Kaitlyn Price

'Kait' is out like a fuckin light. There's a little bit of drool, even.

She doesn't so much as stir.

Hannie Cavalet

"That's a negative. Could be that I'm getting her mixed up with Kate. You tried Kaitlyn, right?"

"Forget it. Hannie, you two can't just lay in the road like this, so we're gonna pick you up. We're headed to the auditorium. Is that where you were going?"

Hannie just shuts her eyes again...

...

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

Hannie will remember the next events in flashes, flickers, like a dark and terrible stormy night.

Qingshe, that awful(?) smooth shadowy snake-woman, gave out some kind of warning...
It's in her hand again.
That buzzing senseless textureless sensation of touching the shadow, being covered in it...
Running. Running again and looking back. Fire. The hills are burning. A partial vision of a huge monster, poking out over and between the buildings.
Everything is numb. It isn't scary. She can't be scared. Her heart isn't beating.
There are soldiers around. Most are running, to or fro. Some are staying in place and staring. Some are shouting - at her? She doesn't check. She weaves. She jumps. Farther. Farther. No more soldiers. The buildings get taller. Can she run all the way home?
She will remember realizing, for exactly an instant, that she is tired now.
Not yet, child-

It certainly isn't normal to see a 14-year-old girl in a dark, shimmering-green volcanologist's outfit lying motionless on the empty streets of downtown Lingayen, but there are more important anomalies to attend to today.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

@KaiserElectric Approval 2/3