Sylverblu

Seven Immortal Elements

"What? Is everything alright miss?" The disciple leaped out of his bed, grabbing the crossbow hidden underneath.

The woman waved her hand downwards, indicating for the man to sit down. "Yes, Jean, everything is fine. Go back to sleep." A pensive look sat on her face, as though she was bothered by something. She sat upright, legs buried underneath bedsheets as her head rested just above the headboard. The room was nearly pitch black, save for some moonlight which poured in through several windows.

"What do you dream about, Jean?" The woman's voice was calm and smooth, though held the smallest taste of bitterness to it.

"This and that. Surely nothing of interest to you, miss."

"If it wasn't of interest to me, I wouldn't be asking."

The man seemed vaguely uncomfortable. This was an odd exchange to be having with his god, particularly in the wee hour of, he checked a nearby grandfather clock, one and forty in the morning. "I dream of simple things. Some pleasures, some pains. Life. Why?" The woman's eyes focused, her brow furrowed. She was surrounded by broken plates, fallen paintings, various objects of the room which had fallen down as a result of the powerful forces which had shaken the room during her wakening.

"It has been quite some time since I have dreamt. Often, they are of things not so different from yours. Simple things. Not this night." A pause. "This night, I dream of death. A simple offer: become a god among gods at the cost of any balance which we swore to uphold. Unimaginable power at unimaginable cost."

"And... your response?" The man was nervous now, something which was not aided by the fact that the woman answered simply with a chuckle and a smirk.

"What do you think?" An uncomfortable silence swept over the two, with the disciple fearing for his own safety and that of his goddess, and the woman having simply nothing to say. "Be a dear and fetch me some tea, will you? I have quite a bit to think about." The man left the shattered room, coming back several minutes later with a cup of steaming water. The woman took it. "Thank you ever so much. Now, gather the others and head to the temple. Discuss with them the nature of our predicament." With a nod, the man left. Sylvia continued to sit in bed, contemplating the offer, sipping her tea, thinking.

* * *

It wasn't long before the inevitable happened. A message through the Earth, a broadcast as to the arrival of a certain guest. A certain unwanted guest, at that, and one whom she was not eager to fraternize with again. Alas, it would seem that she had to host a little get-together, the purpose of which was left to no doubt. Sylvia sighed.

I suppose it had to happen some time.

Alerting her disciples and gathering herself, Sylvia thought of the others. Light, as far as she knew, had already been contacted by her counterpart. There had been no mention of the others though, and Sylvia found it only right to contact the rest. Unfortunately, she had little way to contact Fire, so she simply gave a parcel of paper to one of the temple's courier birds and sent it on its way. Archaic, and slow, but effective. Unfortunately, having fallen out of contact with them, Sylvia had no idea where the others resided, so she had to use some of her more creative tools. Fortunately, these ones would be easier. Sensing the ever-shifting tectonic plates of the planet, she sent out an invitation to the Earth, letting them know where to be. Soon after, Sylvia found herself at the ocean, sending out the same message along the crashing waves. Finally, she told the protector of the air about the little meeting, sending it as a small voice in the wind. Satisfied, Sylvia rested, spending her remaining days of peace in relaxation.

* * *

"Miss Sylvia, we have a guest." A servant burst into the temple, rushing over to the Force elemental. "Paul-Henri says that a foreigner is approaching the city, radiating dark energies." Sylvia laughed.

"Well by all means, bring him here! We shall prepare food and drink and other wonderful superficialities so that we may welcome him." The immortal looked about to the rest of her servants. "Well, hop to it!" The man who had run in nodded and left nearly as quickly as he had come, rushing to the reported location of the incoming guest.

Seven Immortal Elements

Force

Name: Sylvia Floraison

Appearance: Sylvia is tall, slender, and generally dark. Tanned skin seems pale in comparison to her deep black, satin hair, an aesthetic which has been settled upon over centuries of deliberation. Pensive brown eyes sit calmly upon a face of sharp features, with only a freckle here and there to serve the purpose of accentuation. Aside from the aforementioned traits, there is nothing particularly noteworthy about her appearance for her area. By design, Sylvia hangs in the middle of a gradient. To one extent, she is undesirable in a society still dominated by segregated caucasians. To the other, she is too light to be regarded as suspicious, allowing her to function, if not somewhat awkwardly, in European society. Her body type is fair, though nothing to turn heads or be worthy of more than a moment's glance. Sylvia understands that she is here to keep the balance, and that requires hiding, not flaunting.

Personality: Sylvia experiences a bit of duality in her life. On one hand, she is deeply driven by purpose; she feels a powerful compulsion to fulfill her place in the universe as one of the ones to balance the world's fundamental forces elements. As a result, she has learned to value subtlety and, above all, respect. Not only for one's peers, but for the universe as a whole in its delicate glory. Of course, on the other hand, there's the party girl. The side of her which she tries as hard as she can to force into the shadow of the "refined," "sensible," "thinking" version of her. However, as with nearly all sapient life, Sylvia just wants to have fun. So, while she tries to stay calm and mind her own business, now and then she can be found being a bit irresponsible and well... less than inconspicuous.

Abilities

Forceful Nature: The user radiates raw kinetic energy, releasing waves of force which violently vibrate the air/water around them and force anything nearby away from them. Anything which stays in the field or comes closer to the user will begin to experience intense, destructive vibrations. Not available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

Force Wave: Perhaps the simplest ability at force-users' disposal, the user is able to produce an almost solid wave of energy in a direction, either broad and overpowering, or directed and sharp. Available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

Amplify: The user applies force to an object or entity, enhancing any kinetic actions which it takes. This increases its resilience to kinetic energies which are applied to it, and enhances any movement which it makes. This can also be used to simulate telekinesis. If done properly, this technique is capable of vibrating an object. Available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

Immovable Object: The user focuses their attention to a single object or entity, absorbing most all direct energy input and adding it to reserves, functioning as a defensive tactic. Non-kinetic energies are not absorbed, and will still affect the user. If more energy is applied to the user than can be handled, the stored energy will be released and backfire upon the user, sometimes with devastating effects. Weak versions available to advanced humans. (Medium energy consumption)

Unstoppable Force: The user applies their focus to a single object or entity, giving it a sudden increase in speed. Foreign kinetic forces which are applied to the object will be converted into energy in the direction of movement, adding to the speed. Non-kinetic energies will not be absorbed. If the amount of applied energy is too great, the object or entity will experience the destructive force of the applied force, magnified to the extent of the extra applied energy. Not available to humans. (Medium energy consumption)

Graviton Shift: The user upsets the gravity of an area, contorting it to their own will. On a rudimentary level, the user can change the direction of gravity, though with enhanced skill and focus they may change the strength of it as well. Not available to humans. (Variable energy consumption, medium to high)

Pseudomatter: The user creates an organization of kinetic energy such that the application of energy onto anything that touches the field has an equal amount of energy sent back, causing it to act like real matter. allowing for the construction of kinetic walls, tools, and armor. Each construct requires its own bit of focus, however, restricting the amount of potential constructs and their applications. Pseudomatter is seen as being similar to a heat wave in appearance, appearing more and more unstable as the construct becomes more solid. Usable on a small scale by advanced humans. (Variable energy consumption, medium to high)

Mute: The user absorbs nearby vibrations, silencing the area. Usable by advanced humans. (Medium-high energy consumption)

Shatter: The user apples chaotic forces to the environment, causing cracks and folds to form. Destruction ensues. If focused to an entity, a great tearing begins as forces are applied from every direction. Incredibly strong/cosmic entities are able to resist this to an extent, due to their more durable bodies. Requires immense concentration. Not available to humans. (High energy consumption)

Equipment: Sylvia typically carries about herself nothing more than an Italian stiletto and a large walking stick - though it has an odd little secret. The stick, which Sylvia never lets anyone else hold or even touch, was originally an entire tree, having been compressed by tons upon tons of force into the humble form in which it now resides. As a result, it is incredibly dense, making it at once too heavy for any mortal to lift, and stronger than a boulder.

Human Persona: To the non-divine eye, Sylvia is, well, nobody. Every day, she wakes up in the early morning and heads to work in the farm which she lives at. A few hours will pass, spent doing nothing particularly noteworthy, and she will spend the rest of her afternoon disappeared into the local alchemical laboratory. Given that alchemy is a rather archaic belief and practice, few bother to step into the building which many assume to be simply a bunch of madmen attempting to turn stones into gold. This is where many will divide on what they claim Sylvia does with her life. Some will say that she returns home, where she stays with her brother, and spends the rest of the evening in inactivity. Some say that she roams the town, shopping for food, supplies, and interesting bits. Rarely, you'll find the person who remembers seeing her at a formal event, a dance, perhaps, or a wine tasting. Many will simply say that she disappears. There are two notable truths which should be exposed here. First, Sylvia does not have a brother. Rather, she has a favorite disciple who she permits to guard her home and live with her. Second, all of the tales are true. Most any bit of gossip which you'll hear, be it dull or improbably exciting, has a spark of truth to it. Sylvia does, sometimes, return home after a day of harvesting and work at the temple. Other days, she heads into the city to observe and experience the saturation of the culture. On occasion, she will treat herself to something dangerous or irresponsible. And some days, well, some days nobody can tell you where she goes.

Temple Description: Located in the denser section of early Paris, an innocent enough looking laboratory sits on the corner of city block. Inside this, "alchemical and physical studies," lab however, is a collection of the devout followers of the Immortal currently known as Sylvia Marquet. They're a quiet, studious bunch who value progression above all else, believing that it will allow them to become the strongest of the seven groups. Their doctrine? Become greater. Their only purpose, beyond serving their god that is, is to advance themselves as much as they are able, both scientifically and economically. Of course, this must all be done from the shadows, though at times the group has been known to stray from their commands a bit in the name of progress, typically with consequences falling along the lines of witch prosecutions and executions. Local technology is what might be expected for Renaissance Paris, though the disciples have access to slightly more advanced technologies such as experimental microscopes and other scientific equipment.

Seven Immortal Elements

Brasslazer should have his character finished by the end of the day.

Escape the Tempest[Closed]

Ignore this. I messed up.

You Die At the End

Dr. Memminger

Name: Lars Memminger

Age: 47

Gender: Male

Appearance: One can tell that Lars used to be something impressive - key phrase being "used to be". He's a moderately tall fellow at around 6'1", with stretch marks adorning his torso like trophies. Formerly handsome muscles are atrophying all about his body. On top of a wide set of shoulders sits a face. This face is old, dying. Wrinkles have already begun to set, and the dull green eyes are almost always set with tiredness, a look of some incomprehensible, quiet despair. Dirty blonde hair is fading to a dull grey, a fate which Lars' stubbly beard has already met. His body is well built, being slightly healthier than most American bodies. His skin is tanned, with faint wrinkles appearing here and there. Overall, Lars is exactly the type who you'd expect to see sitting along and hunched over in a bar, which incidentally, is how he spends many of his nights.

Occupation: Lars is retired, having made a large sum of money in his early life and never having to spend it on children or a partner. He used to be a biochemist working for a pharmaceutical company, but decided to leave this in his mid-thirties in order to move, "somewhere boring and quiet," as he put it.

Personality: Lars is grumpy. There isn't much more to be said for his surface personality, he's simply a grumpy old man. This is how he chooses to portray himself, as it minimizes the contact that he has to endure with "the filthy plebeians". At heart, Lars is a different type of grumpy than what he puts forth. Rather than being a perpetually annoyed, though without much reason, he has learned over the course of his life a simple truth: people are terrible. This does not exclude anyone, and it certainly does not exclude himself. Even the people who he considered friends are somehow tainted by this thought, and he frequently points out even the most superficial of flaws in a person simply because he can. This has also led to a bit of a superiority complex, in that between his belief that everyone is terrible and with his great scientific knowledge, he speaks to everyone in a manner that frequently doesn't make sense, and becomes irritated when they don't understand. Much of this stems from the hyperactive multitasker that Lars had been, and the consequences of disillusioning something so fragile. All in all, Lars is best defined by his frustration. Frustration for not being understood. Frustration with the folly of man. And now, frustration that the world is going to end before the next weekly happy-hour.

History: Lars was born unto a set of wealthy, loving parents. It was these two, charismatic individuals that over and over told him that he could do anything with his life if he just tried hard enough, that inevitably drove him to success. A drive was built inside of him, one which pushed him to discover new things, to seek more knowledge than anybody else. He succeeded, and for a while, it was good. Oxyenterothyline. Some anti... something drug. He doesn't even remember. All that matters is that people liked it, and it got him a good bit of money. It was around this time that Lars' mother began to develop cancer. He worked night and day, attempting to help in the development of some sort of... anything which would be able to help. In doing so, he ended up being at work when his mother died. At first, naturally, he was distraught. However, over time, he has begun to laugh, seeing "the beauty of irony" in it. His father has since fallen prey to a similar strain of cancer, but by this time Lars had lost any semblance of compassion for the man. He attended the funeral only so as to take advantage of the free food and wine. He's since stopped working and moved to a small town on the outskirts of society, where he enjoys relatively uninterrupted peace in a simple life. Upon discovering the end of the world, at first, he scoffed. "Nonsense". But, as evidence began to mount against him, he simply started grunting, fairly nonchalant about the whole affair.

"Maybe this is just the universe's way of giving me an easy way to die. I've lived a full life, got to hit all the milestones. Made some money. Retired. Saw good people die. And now, I'm out of ideas. So alright, universe, let's go. Hit me."

Seven Immortal Elements

I'm content either way.

Destiny: The Exclusion Zone

Kazik let out a soft, pensive growling sound. There was no menace to it, but rather it was a deep groan of thought. Looking around, he saw all of these Guardians that would have to work together, and yet none of them knew each other. Here, already one thought it silly that the soldiers who would have to risk their lives together against an unknown threat get to know each other. Like gears grinding against each other, Kazik could feel just the tiniest twinge of potential tension.

"You do not know each other, from what I have seen. I do not see issue with the prospect of rectifying this." Kazik spoke slowly, though not lethargically - methodically. Historically, he had noted these Guardians to be sensitive, at least more sensitive than he. He wanted to succeed as quickly as possible and as efficiently as possible, facilitating a quick return home and less time spent with these drains on his patience. Sitting down next to the one who called himself Spectre, Kazik rested two arms on his knees and two under his chin.

"For those of you who have not already been informed, you will call me Kazik. Where I come from is of little importance, but know that I am not here to cause trouble. I am your ally, and you are all mine. I am here for my knowledge of the Fallen and their tactics, and I hope to serve you all... adequately." Looking about, Kazik scanned all parties in the room, eyes falling upon a particularly odd sight - a Titan clad in what was clearly advanced armor, wielding the most rudimentary weapon he had every seen. The weapon, appearing to be a pre-Golden Age assault rifle, looked shockingly similar to someone who Kazik had encountered before. Remembering his days with his house, Kazik nearly grinned beneath his helmet as he recalled stomping the Light out of a newly revived Guardian, stumbling his way towards the City with nothing but a set of rudimentary Lightmail and a primitive weapon from a forgotten past.

However, those days were behind him, and Kazik refocused to the task at hand. Briefly contemplating the next course of social action, Kazik reached into a plated pouch in his armor and produced six Strange Coins.

"Gambling is foolish and wasteful. No matter what, the chances of your victory are always against your favor." Kazik placed the coins on the table and leaned back, moving his top two arms to a reclining position behind his head.

"It also happens to be one of my favorite past-times."

Taking pause for a moment, Kazik recalled the comment regarding the Fallen made by Spectre. He turned his head to the one next to him.

"One more thought. You say that the Fallen will pose no trouble to you." Purple arcs of Void Light whirred around Kazik for a brief moment as the small, hidden Servitor began to turn on long disused defense protocols in his armor, briefly triggering a Void shield projection. "I assure you, friend, that pride will not be of any use to you here. Note our numbers. Note my presence. And, if you are as great as you say you are, note your own. We would not all be here if this was a simple patrol, or a task to be handled by any Guardian. The Fallen are greater creatures than you credit them with, a fact which I can attest to. First, annihilate the House. Afterwards, you have my blessing to go forth and speak of their weakness as much as it pleases you."

Destiny: The Exclusion Zone

Do we have any word from Nallore?

Seven Immortal Elements

@TheUnknowablein that event I quite like the design so far, and look forward to seeing more of him. Thanks for clearing that up.

Seven Immortal Elements

@Sylverbluyours and Lemons' are, but brass hasn't finished his yet.

What do you think of mine? Is it balanced compared to the others? I don't want to risk being OP.

@TheUnknowable

I like it, the only thing I think is a bit weird is that your humans can do everything that the Immortal can. Everything is balanced, it just seems like the Immortal should be a bit more elevated than their servants.