Xiro Zean

Where It Always Rains

---

April 8th, first day at boxing club.

---

“A-Ah. So the fights are relatively safe?” Himōri hesitantly asked the leader of the boxing club, hands clutched around the complimentary gloves she’d been given when she entered the building. Internally, she released a sigh, wondering how she got herself into this situation.

She had been locked in conversation with the club leader for a while, having went straight to the club as soon as the school day ended. While there was always things to be done at home, the brunette allowed herself a moment a selfishness to satisfy her curiosity, and so she had followed the directions on the pamphlet she found that morning to reach the sports gym in record time.

If she were to be perfectly honest, she was initially disappointed to find that there were only two people aside from herself, save for the history teacher who acted as an advisor for the club. Her enthusiasm spiked once again when their homeroom teacher appeared to speak to Shinsato-sensei, but as she was reminded of whom had left with the homeroom teacher beforehand, a sinking feeling began to settle in her gut just as quickly.

A few minutes had passed since then, leading to her current predicament. Himōri fumbled with the laces of the glove in her hands, her mind wandering as she felt the grainy texture of well-treated tanned leather. High quality stuff. Goatskin was usually reserved for designer handbags for their smoothness, yet the school seemed to have opened up their wallets for the sake of their rising star. Her mother would kill for a chance to have some to work with. Slowly, the brunette looked up from the gloves and toward said star.

Uemura Akihiko. She wasn’t sure what to say about him, but then again, that was her general consensus on most of the school’s body. Even before his newfound fame garnered by his athletic achievements, Himōri never really had a chance to speak with him. Or rather, she never really spoke to anyone, and Uemura just happened to be included in that general population.

Before she could get an answer to her earlier question, however, the doors to the gym had opened, and the weight in her stomach calcified into a lead ball. She’d seen the newspapers like everyone else, just as bored by life and wishing for excitement. That boredom was what brought her to the club in the first place, but she never wanted anywhere near the level of excitement that came from seeing the newly formed delinquent duo of the school entering the club room.

Himōri did her best imitation of a mouse when Uemura had her follow him, becoming as small as possible without bending her knees, keeping herself from making eye contact with the giant who she was brought to stand in front of. As long as she didn’t attempt any sudden movements, he probably wouldn’t even register her as a person on his radar.

…Wait. If he was going to be in the boxing club, didn’t that mean she was going to have to fight him at some point regardless?

”Shit,” Himōri mumbled absentmindedly, her hands flying up to her mouth a second later as her eyes widened with shock. Oh god, did she say that out loud?!

After making sure her stupid, impulsive brain didn’t make her say anything else without her permission, she slowly lowered her hands as she spoke in a quiet, downtrodden tone. ”I-I’m Hattori Himōri. I just joined, s-same as you. _{Please take care of me.}”

If Totsuka-san didn’t kill her during this first boxing club meeting, Himōri would make sure she finished the job. She couldn’t even attempt to hide the embarrassment on her face.

Where It Always Rains

Cloth girl

"We’re just getting started!"

N A M E
服部 紐織り
ＡＧＥ
16 | January 13th
ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ

• Height: 5'2"
• Weight: 175 lbs
• Hair: Accessorized
• Clothes: Oversized

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ
Hardworking

The first to start and the last to leave, Himōri is the type of person who never leaves a job unfinished, doing what needs to be done, and sometimes even more than what is asked of her. A good work ethic is something that had been drilled into her since the day she picked up a needle for the first time, and the countless days she'd worked at her mother's shop have trained her to do whatever job she's assigned thoroughly.

Trustworthy

If there's anything that you can count on Himōri for, it's the strength of her word. A promise given by Himōri will always be kept to the best of her ability. If it's ever broken, she's sure to bawl longer than the promisee is able to hold a grudge. It's a bit scary, really, to what lengths she's willing to go to keep her word, a value Himōri believes is necessary to become a person she can be proud of.

Passionate

Any time she places her investment into anything, she'll always step up to show how much she's willing to show how much she cares, never allowing herself to be turned away by the opposition as she stands up for what she believes in. While it's an admirable trait to have, it's sometimes a double-edged sword when it's coaxed to life for the wrong reasons, becoming more of a detriment in some cases than it is a positive trait.

Impulsive

A good idea should always be acted upon as soon as you think of it. It's this mindset that fuels Himōri's frequency to act on her own accord, changing plans on a dime and working off of even the smallest of chances to reach her goals. It causes her to act rashly and without much prior thought when her emotions run high, and can very well get herself and others into danger because of her reckless actions.

ＬＩＫＥＳ

• Sweets
• Sukiyaki, and hotpots in general
• Fashion
• Sewing
• Housekeeping
• Quiet Places
• The Truth
• Exercise

ＤＩＳＬＩＫＥＳ

• Dieting
• Instant Food
• Ruining Clothes
• Fire
• Crowds
• Lies
• Exercise

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ
Himori was born to a struggling yet sufficiently happy family. Decently sized home, a lazy, homebody father with a problem with managing money and a strict working mother that kept him in check. Her mother worked as a seamstress, having a consistent yearly income from the uniforms she made for the local highschool and the occasional customer looking for a refit or a custom design. She taught the young Himori her craft in the scant moments they were able to share together, and her father doted over her with her mother's money when his wife wasn't looking. They were never truly financially stable, but squeezed by regardless of their circumstances, and were relatively happy for a family living in Utsubyo.

Until one day, her father, who had once been a terrible gambling addict before Himori was born, was one day found out to have never actually shaken off his fixation, and the debtors he'd been hiding from came to collect. Their home, confiscated, and her father, taken away kicking and screaming. It was a miracle that her mother was able to somehow keep the tailor shop after the dispute. And starting at the tender age of eight, Himori would be raised by her single mother in the back of an outfitter store for the rest of her childhood, weighed down by an incredible amount of debt the loan sharks had graciously allowed to be paid installments after the initial seize of assets.

Between the stress of raising a child on her own and being the sole provider in a dead end town, Himori’s mother was forced to take on multiple jobs in order to simply pay the bills, unable to even care for her daughter as her life consisted only of work and sleep. Forced to raise herself, Himori did what she could, helping around in the store as much as she was able and eating the cheapest food money could buy to shave off food costs. Said nourishment as a majority came from processed foods and candies, and while she was able to eat as much as a child needed for half the cost, it predictably came at a cost to her health and body image, no doubt exacerbated by the sedentary lifestyle caused from sitting at a store counter or sewing at a desk during her free time rather than playing outside with other children.

Her bad habits continued into her teenage years, curbed slightly as the family's situation slowly improved over time, and soon she was set to go into high school. Going purely out of obligation to her mother's wishes, Himori couldn't wish for the day of her graduation to come any sooner, bullied for her figure and lack of notable relationships within a town where everyone knew each other. Yet, as she returned for her second year, stressed beyond relief by the prospects of returning to a place she hated more than anything, the brunette couldn't help but notice a small flier for a club with a handful of members. The boxing club.

Where It Always Rains

Punching this in while I'm still awake, will finish tomorrow after working

WIP

"I'm just basic like that"

ＮＡＭＥ
服部 紐織り
ＡＧＥ
16 | January 13th
ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ

• Height: 5'2"
• Weight: 175 lbs
• Hair: Accessorized
• Clothes: Oversized

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ
Hardworking

The first to start and the last to leave, Himōri is the type of person who never leaves a job unfinished, doing what needs to be done, and sometimes even more than what is asked of her. A good work ethic is something that had been drilled into her since the day she picked up a needle for the first time, and the countless days she'd worked at her mother's shop have trained her to do whatever job she's assigned thoroughly.

Trustworthy

If there's anything that you can count on Himōri for, it's the strength of her word. A promise given by Himōri will always be kept to the best of her ability. If it's ever broken, she's sure to bawl longer than the promisee is able to hold a grudge. It's a bit scary, really, to what lengths she's willing to go to keep her word, a value Himōri believes is necessary to become a person she can be proud of.

Passionate

Any time she places her investment into anything, she'll always step up to show how much she's willing to show how much she cares, never allowing herself to be turned away by the opposition as she stands up for what she believes in. While it's an admirable trait to have, it's sometimes a double-edged sword when it's coaxed to life for the wrong reasons, becoming more of a detriment in some cases than it is a positive trait.

Impulsive

A good idea should always be acted upon as soon as you think of it. It's this mindset that fuels Himōri's frequency to act on her own accord, changing plans on a dime and working off of even the smallest of chances to reach her goals. It causes her to act rashly and without much prior thought when her emotions run high, and can very well get herself and others into danger because of her reckless actions.

ＬＩＫＥＳ

• Sweets
• Fashion
• Housekeeping
• Sukiyaki, and hotpots in general
• Sewing
• Exercise

ＤＩＳＬＩＫＥＳ

• Ruining Clothes
• Dieting
• Fire
• Instant Food
• Lies
• Exercise

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ
mom works as a tailor in the city who get most of her revenue from the local school that commissions uniforms
dad is a shitter who gambles money he doesnt have and made the parents lose their house and forced to live in the tailor shop
mom keeps him in check while nuturing Himori to be better and choose better than she did
Himori grows up malnourished yet still overweight due to bad food habits and stress
goes into high school out of obligation but hopes for a big break as a fashion designer in the future

Xiro's Children

Name:

Nicola Miles Sturgis

Age:

17

Place of Birth:

Seele, from where one would have seen a small speck in the distance where city of Sonnehall lies on the horizon

Division:

Vulkan

Background Check:

Nicola was only nine when a fateful morning started with a paltry sprinkle of rainfall, a light veil of moisture as miniature clouds formed overhead. Hardly anything to remember or even pay notice to. The teasing laugh of his father and the reassurance of his mother dissuaded any doubt in his young mind that there was anything to worry about before they left their home to restock for the winter. Only small beasts slightly bigger than his childish self had shown up in the city that day, and the people could only scoff as the unthreatening Regentier were chased off or subjugated with ease. A man who'd been leading the local militia, wearing an SNDP logo with pride, tipped his hat as Nicola and his father passed by.

No one had been prepared for the sudden explosion that rocked through the city's foundations, the screams of his neighbors reaching Miles just before a blinding light consumed both the smiling man and a chunk of their city block, a roar of power and the sounds of destruction filling his ears. Unable to see nor hear within the cacophony, all the young boy could sense was his father clutching him tightly until it finally died down.

When the dust settled and Nicola's eyes adjusted to his surroundings, a sea of devastation awaited him where there was once recognizable landmarks. The auntie's diner, his uncle's barber shop, the nice grandma's bakery, all glassed by the superheated blast and reduced to rubble. His father, covered in cement shrapnel from the aftermath, whispered for him to run away as bloody fingers slipped from around his arms down to the pavement.

Nicola's memories after that moment are hazy. He didn't remember if he had ran as his father had instructed, or if he had frozen in fear, or even if he'd reached into his father's coat for the blaster he always carried. He could only remember what happened afterwards, embraced by his mother while amongst the rest of the refugees of Seele as a cleanup crew from the SNDP explained the circumstances of the incident. An unidentified assailant had infiltrated the city, causing untold amount of damage to the city that may take several years or even decades to recover from.

He remembered that his mother had questioned what had caused the destruction, and where it went. He remembered their hesitation in responding, the looks the agents gave each other as they were unable to disclose such information to civilians.

Graft / Weapon Specialty:

Heavy Firearms/ Utility

Regenlied

Yo pog?

Midnight Sun: Last Song Over the Horizon

Eyrie Schemacloves

---

“And that will end our brief lecture on the role of mecha preceding the Valkyrie Project.”

Eyrie hadn't reacted to the professor's concluding statement as the rest of the class began to leave the classroom, eyes still locked to her datapad up until a fellow student brushed past her seat on their way to the door. Like waking from a dream, her head snapped upward from the desk, eyes blinking rapidly as she noticed the lack of people in the room aside from a couple of students slowly packing their things and a bored-looking boy still seated in his chair. Scrambling to collect her belongings, she was one of the last to rush out the door, sending the instructor a hurried "have a good day" as she passed him by.

As she moved through the hallways, Eyrie pulled out her datapad once more, reopening it to reveal multiple windows, each of them for every single one of the subjects in her curriculum. Eyes darted across the screen and ignored their surroundings, relying entirely on muscle memory to take her to the cafeteria as she attempted to absorb as much information as possible with what little time she had. A month was a short time for most, but to Eyrie it had been the longest month of her life.

She knew better than anyone else that the only reason she was at Taiyōtawa at all was through her parents' efforts and not her own. Unlike the naturally gifted elite who come to Taiyōtawa because it was the best the galaxy could offer, Eyrie had to work hard for every single inch she could take on the mile-long trek to graduation. Every second she didn't spend studying was a second she was wasting.

When Eyrie entered the cafeteria, she didn't even look to see what sort of paste they had for the day as she momentarily put away her datapad to take the offered tray. All of it tasted the same to her, no matter what sort of artificial flavoring they put in it. Goop was goop. But in all honesty, it was better than the sand-encrusted leftovers that were normal on her planet, so she didn't much care what it was.

Though she looked for a place to sit, she couldn't find an open spot. Sure, there were seats left unoccupied, but most of them were either next to tables with friend groups, reserved, or just a single spot surrounded by crowded seats. She knew, no matter how hard she tried, she wasn't going to be getting anything done with all those people around. Too much noise. Too little privacy.

So she left, tray in hand, headed for the bathroom. Seated in a locked cubicle, she picked at her daily dose of food paste with one hand while the other interacted with her datapad, propped up to the wall on top of the toilet roll holder. It was a sad sight, and she would most certainly die of embarrassment if anyone ever saw her, but it was a necessity. She couldn't let any of her classes suffer just because she wanted to have a comfortable lunch rather than sitting cramped on a toilet with her food in her lap.

A loud bang of something hitting the metal of a neighboring cubicle startled her, nearly causing her to squeak with surprise. Only a hand covering her mouth kept her from making her presence known as she began to hear the sounds of girly gossip. Though she couldn't see them, she guessed it was a group of four or so standing by the sink. Silently, as she began to move her spoon slowly and gently as to not make a sound that would draw their notice, Eyrie internally sighed.

She hoped they left soon. She didn't want to miss her next class.

Midnight Sun: Last Song Over the Horizon

Midnight Sun: Last Song Over the Horizon

Eyrie Schemacloves

“I believe in the good within you. One day, everyone else will see it too.”

Eyrie, towards her partner

Personal Dossier

---

_Name

Eyrie Schemacloves

_Age

18

_Gender

Female

_Origin

Boletus, Kepler System

_Appearance

Usually, Eyrie's clothes consist of long-sleeved shirts that hide the skin up to her wrists, yet she doesn't attempt to conceal her legs in a similar manner, donning skirts when she's able to instead. Though her outfits commonly exhibit desaturated colors, mostly shades of grey and dark blues, the brightly red-framed glasses that sit upon her nose draw attention to her snow white hair and dull green eyes. The only significant features of her appearance.

_Personality

Eyrie is an optimist. A gross overestimation, but the closest word to how she sees the world. It isn't confidence that drives her thinking, as her ability to argue is next to non-existent, nor is it an overestimation of the future, which would've been a symptom of pride. Rather, Eyrie merely believes that things will eventually sort themselves out, a baseless hope that allows her to get through each day. No matter what happens, no matter the struggles, the future is always capable of bringing light into her world. Any victory, no matter how small, is a victory, and she will treasure every single one.

_{Background Information}

On Boletus, a world where a bigger population than most results in bigger problems, The Schemacloves family barely scraped by. Living day by day, paycheck to paycheck, the young Eyrie was merely happy to be alive. To her, they had everything they ever needed, no matter if she would sometimes have birthdays go by uncelebrated or merely acknowledged with a cupcake and a single candle. Her parents worked hard, she could understand that, and the discomfort of a usually empty household was worth the happy moments that lightly sprinkled her life.

She did not expect the sudden bomb dropped upon her a certain night, that she would be shipped to a different system to study in the most prestegious school in the known universe. Eyrie couldn't imagine a world outside of the city she lived in her entire life, yet she knew any sort of disagreement would be met with indignation, merely by the unsettling light within her parent's eyes. A desperate air that rolled around their home, an atmosphere she purposely ignored every time she heard the shouting in the middle of the night about bills and impossible future plans. Something she understood, deep down, was somehow her fault.

So when they asked, no, commanded her to excell at Taiyōtawa Academy, all Eyrie could do was bow her head in defference, no matter the emotions that swirled within her gut.

Attributes & Other Information

---

_{Coordinator Type}

Tactical Coordinator

_{Coordination Profile}

Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■■■■□
Endurance | ■■□□□
Instinct | ■■■■□
Intellect | ■■□□

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

Fake Dog

Huntsman Sheet

Personality

<sub>If one could taste a personality, Tawny's would be sweet. Sickeningly sweet. A type of sweetness that rots the teeth and dulls the tongue, churning the stomach until one is forced to vomit. Her apparent attitude is one of incessant cheer, a wide smile stretched across her face, and eyes curled with laughter. Open to all, and closed to none, she'll jump from person to person like a fly, chattering along without a care in the world.

Even as barbed taunts and vicious expletives roll off of her tongue, her joy still persists, grinning ear to ear all the while.

On the other hand, if the facade she holds before the animal-eared population is one of sickening sweetness, then her true self is one of a light sourness. Like an apple. Tart, sometimes sweet, sometimes acidic. To those of her own race, she is significantly calmer. Colder. Her words ring more true rather than sweet falsehoods, yet there was little to none of that happy nature to weather the harsher retorts. Yet, that disgusting sweetness, that bright, poisonous taste is always prepared for the unfortunate Faunus that cross paths with her.</sub>

Appearance

_{Tawny is always found sporting a pair of surprisingly realistic, but ultimately fake, animal appendages upon her head, whether they be ears, horns, or other similar appendages. Her usual attire consists of bright colors that garner attention, favoring yellow and white hues. If they just so happen to be blindingly bright within direct sunlight to certain individuals with enhanced senses, then all the better for her. A hairpin keeps Towny's hair out of her hair, a cute little bauble reminiscent of a desert flower, the only constant in her appearance.}

“You're supposed to be a cat, right? 'Quack' for me.”

| N a m e: |

Tawny Brown

| Alias|Nickames|Titles: |

Brownie

| G e n d e r: |

Female

| A g e: |

16

| Kingdom of Origin: |

Vacuo

| Race: |

Human

| History: |

Tawny's story is a simple one. There were no princesses in castles, or fairy tale creatures, or heroes on horseback coming to save the world from evil. No, there was only a village, humbly existing within the sands of Vacuo, that disappeared violently with anguished screams and cries of fear.

A young girl, only six years of age, was forced to hide in the closet while her father left to figure out why it was so loud outside the house. Shaking, holding herself, when she heard her mother's voice suddenly stop mid-sentence, a wet 'thump' of a body hitting the wooden floor as something moved to where her mother was last before dragging something heavy out of their home.

Gathering what little courage she had, the young girl was able to peek out of the closet, only to see a strange mask and a pair of animal ears atop the head of a man standing at the doorway. It was only luck that kept her alive as the man was looking away, commanding others with similar masks just before a massive, otherworldly creature passed by. The sight of the monster, with its many eyes and coloration mirrored by those masked intruders, was enough to finally cause her to crack, fainting from mental exhaustion.

In time, the young girl grew, keeping the features of the person that had stolen not only her family, but her entire village from her. Grew to hate those features, and those who possessed similar ones, training her body to kill those terrifying beings she would later learn were called 'Grimm'. Soon, she would become old enough to enroll into an Academy, and become someone strong enough to travel the world on her own to search for those responsible for the atrocities committed that night.

| Semblance: |

Tawny's Semblance, Overdrive, is usually unuseable outside of combat situations, dormant until certain conditions are met. Overdrive passively siphons the energy residue left behind by Aura spendage, charging itself for future use. At certain 'levels' of charge, the energy can be released by Tawny in the form of special techniques.

At the first level, indicated by Tawny's hands taking on a brown glow, the energy can be released in a single, compressed burst. The force exerted by the blast is strong enough to knock Tawny back should she not possess stable footing, allowing her to use it as a sort of impromptu method of movement along with its designated use as a projectile. Even at higher levels, Tawny can choose to use this ability instead for a weaker yet less energy-intensive option.

At the second level, indicated by the brown glow reaching Tawny's eyes and aforementioned areas, the energy burst can instead be fired as a concentrated stream, dealing heavy damage. The knockback is also increased, enabling pseudo flight if aimed correctly, which would be easier said than done. Tawny cannot disrupt the flow of energy until it is entirely spent, should she activate her semblance at this level.

At the third and final level, the brown glow covers each of her limbs as well as the aforementioned areas. In this state, the energy has reached a point that can be used to directly alter her body. Unlike normal Aura enhancement, the physical capabilities given by expelling the energy at this stage are tremendous, far surpassing normal limits. However, this state can only be maintained for a total of thirty seconds, after which Tawny's Aura will immediately break and will need to be recharged fully for her Semblance to begin accumulating energy once more.

Overdrive is only capable of storing energy for a certain period of time, ten minutes after the most recent absorption, after which it will begin to quickly dissipate. The area in which it is capable of absorbing expended energy is also small, usually only large enough for Overdrive to begin charging within melee range of an opponent or a few inches away from the landing zone of an Aura-infused projectile.

| Weapon and Fighting Style: |

Sepia's primary weapon is Justicar's Lament, a metal briefcase that can quickly deploy a savage chainsaw blade through the front. A smaller, secondary opening on the back posses an outlet that reveals the end of a sawed-off shotgun's barrel for heavy, close-range firepower that the chain can't chew through. A compartment that can be opened on the top is used to feed dust into the machine, which can either be used to grant the chainsaw a devastating elemental effect with fire or stone, or give the shotgun portion a bigger 'oomph' with water or ice.

Tawny doesn't intentionally take upon any specific style of combat, rather taking on a method of combat in relation to her opponent's. Patient, she waits and observes until she figures out their tells and habits before systematically shaving away at their resolve and bodies while using the incredible noise and aggressive nature of her weapon to psyche out the weaker willed.

| Strengths and Weakness: |

From her experiences of antagonizing the other half of Vacuo's population on a near-daily basis, Tawny's physical capabilities are fairly high for her age group, as well as her ability to recognize and understand the emotions of others. Leaving her personal biases aside, her general awareness and judgment skills are outstanding, capable of overseeing a situation and coming up with several solutions within a short time frame. If one were to stop there, she would seem like a perfectly adequate would-be-Huntress.

That was where her upsides end, however, as her emotions are what take her best traits and make them detriments. Tawny's sadistic streak is a mile wide, and more often than not, takes her time enjoying the moment rather than finishing things quickly and succinctly. Any attempt of pairing her up with a Faunus would only result in physical and emotional pain suffered by both sides, ruining any level of teamplay she would normally be capable of utilizing. As a nice cherry on top, even without her annoying facade in the way, knowing how others feel doesn't exactly equal empathizing, which is something she has trouble with aside from the most extreme ends of positive and negative emotions.

| Greatest Fear/Fatal Flaw: |

That night, when everything was taken from her, she wasn't able to watch her parents' death. Which made sense, for a child barely old enough to hold a knife. The worst part, however, was when everything settled into a dead calm and she finally left her hiding place, their bodies were gone. Whenever she has nightmares, she would imagine what exactly happened to those corpses. Each and every possibility terrified her. Even the ones where they were alive.

Because that would mean they had left her. Alone. In that ruined, bloody village where the dead now rest where the living once lived.

| Miscs : |

The ears are probably fake and not made from actual Faunus fur. Probably.

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

Imagine posting a WIP