Hello! I'm Yankee. I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc. I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic (for character) stories. I enjoy creating original characters for RP, but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games! On that note I like comic books, cartoons, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!
I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is once per week or less. I usually post on weekends. I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously. Remember: fiction =/= reality.
Feel free to PM me to chat! However I do not check PMs immediately. Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.
____________________________________________________ Level: 10 - Total EXP: 163/100 ------ Level: 7 - Total EXP: 214/70 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● Word Count: 703 (+2 exp) Location: The Under - Dirthmouth
Being above ground was going to do wonders for the group. They'd be able to get some fresh air, rest in relative safety, and recuperate their minds before delving back into the chasm tomorrow. They had the Dreamcatcher and all of the mask pieces, so there was only one task left to them: their confrontation with the area's Guardian.
In a way Therion was looking forward to that. Not because he wanted to fight whatever it was they'd find (the Red Eye had been crazy, he couldn't imagine what they'd have to contend with this time), but because it would mark the end of their mission in the Under. Hopefully they'd all be afforded a break after that, and then maybe the next location would actually be somewhere nice. A tropical island? A country with wide open plains and quaint villages? Hell, he might even take a desert again over being stuck with cliffs and tunnels.
But all of those thoughts could wait until the next day. For now, getting the hell out of there and above ground. The cheerfulness of Nadia's friend the Magikrab followed by the swift arrival of the horse-sized stag beetles lifted Primrose and Therion's spirits a little. Both of them, like many of the other Seekers, were running low on stamina. Today had been quite a lot, and it ended on a somber, unpleasant note. Hopefully the rest of the night was easier. The two Orsterrans shared the same beetle, with Therion hopping up into the back seat and reaching down to help Primrose up to the front.
The ride itself was about as nice as it could be given the steeds and the route. It wasn't too bumpy nor too long, so thankfully neither of the Travelers were left saddle sore. They disembarked easily, watching Ms. Fortune speed ahead as Primrose gave their beetle a few grateful pats. Though she and Therion took the lift themselves, they weren't slow about it. They both hurried over and practically jumped off of it once it took them up above ground.
The air was brisk and fresh, and the moon and starlight was a welcome change from a cavern's darkness. Primrose made her way over to where Ms. Fortune and the elder bug were speaking to overhear what the latter had to say. Therion was content to bask in the night for a little while, parking himself on a small boulder and looking out over the abandoned town and the chasm.
Wonder where Tingyun and the dwarves ended up? he thought. He squinted, surveying the landscape further away as best he could. If not for that map the Seekers had gotten early on, it would have been nearly impossible to tell where they were under ground - which made it all the harder to guess where the dwarves would have arrived after going straight up.
He gave up looking long before Primrose came to fetch him, letting him know that they were free to stay in any of the huts in the area that weren't already claimed by someone else.
"Sounds good," he said, hopping off of his perch. He stretched his arms out, giving the area one last look. It was basically devoid of life now, the few miners gone and little establishments dark. He had no want to explore, so he figured he might as well get some sleep while it was available. Hopefully without another weird nightmare.
After Therion swiped one of the remaining pizzas for himself and Primrose to share, the two of them wandered through the town as they ate. "We're quite spoiled for choice, hm?" the Dancer said facetiously. All of the huts looked the same on the outside, and the insides weren't much better. "I think Sectonia and Ms. Fortune went that way. We'd might as well keep nearby in case something happens."
With no arguments from Therion, the two picked out a pair of neighboring huts. They bid goodnight to each other, after which Therion entered his chosen sleeping place and closed the door. Primrose lingered outside of her own a little longer. She'd caught sight of a flickering flame in the distance as they were walking around, something she'd nearly forgotten about...
Primrose strode to the Confessor's home with purpose, but when she reached it she did not immediately enter. She stood at the door, her face cast in shadow. She only had her assumptions about how the Confessor's power worked, and she didn't even know if she had the right "food," but even so... whose spirit would she ask the bug to fetch?
Yusufa's? Did she remain dead as last Primrose knew her, or did she return to life in the World of Light? Did she meet an early end again, here?
Could she ask after her father's soul? If he was made to live again, the pursuit that Primrose had dedicated her life to would vanish. Her heart would be empty - would her father's presence after all of these years fill it?
Yet another terrible option came to her. What of the other six people she called friends? Alfyn, Olberic, Tressa, Ophilia, Cyrus, H'aanit... She wanted to know that they fared well, somewhere out there. Jiji would be able to tell if one of them had been reduced to a spirit if she asked, surely? ...but what would she do if they had died?
Primrose stood there and breathed. She reached for the dagger she always carried with her, caressing its hilt. She knew she was agonizing over a choice she didn’t have to make, with a crucial lack of information. She had to speak with Jiji.
Her eyes flickered to the doorknob, finding it was still unlocked since Therion had picked it a few days ago. Much too slowly for her own liking Primrose took hold of it and pushed the door open.
"...Jiji?" she called, stepping into the space. Her voice was harder than she would have liked, so Primrose quietly cleared her throat. "I came by the other day seeking your ability."
The rotund insect turned toward the newcomer, bright eyes peering out from a featureless, ink-black face. When she saw Primrose, the bottoms of her eyes rose in an expression of gladness. “Ah, hello again. How have you been faring? Have you come to me because of your regrets?”
Regrets… That was how she spoke of her ability last time too. The dancer wouldn’t have put it that way, but she supposed it was right all the same. Parting often led to regrets, via death or not. Primrose didn’t reply, instead she dropped her bag from her person and knelt to take out the container storing the rancid egg.
Soft, round, with a noticeable smell; that was the food Jiji had mentioned she needed to perform her spirit power. Therion had guessed that as an insect, Jiji might like berries - but bugs were attracted to these kinds of things too. The acrid stench of rot tingled Primrose’s nose in a bad way when she unscrewed the lid and took the egg out. She held one hand up to pinch her nostrils closed while the other offered the egg to the Confessor. It certainly fit the qualities Jiji described.
"Could this have been what you wanted?"
The moment she caught a whiff of the oozy, gelatinous globule, Jiji started wriggling her stubby little limbs with excitement. As gloomy and no-nonsense as the Confessor normally seemed to be, it was easy to imagine her salivating. “Ooh, yes! That sublime odor, the miracle of life gone delectably sour…there’s truly nothing better. If you will allow me to enjoy this morsel, then I promise you my services.”
The sight was amusing enough that it momentarily pulled Primrose out of the pit of heavy thoughts she’d been digging in her own mind. She smiled slightly, handing the egg to Jiji. She was all too eager to be rid of it anyway. "It’s all yours."
Jiji accepted the egg graciously, then delicately set it aside on a shelf against one of the walls, just far enough that the odor would be less intolerable for her client. Though the Confessor delighted in these uncommon delicacies, she was temperate -and considerate- enough to know that not everyone shared her unique tastes. Besides, there was no guarantee that Primrose possessed any lingering regrets. The meal could wait until after services had been rendered.
While she watched Jiji stow the egg, Primrose considered what else she’d heard from the Master of Masters so many days ago now. Different kinds of revival arts, procuring an empty vessel to rejuvenate a spirit’s “ka”... would she have to prepare that in tandem with Jiji bringing the spirit itself to her? When the bug was finished, Primrose spoke.
"Could you explain your powers to me?" she asked. Previously it had been a little hard to understand the Confessor, but whether she knowingly kept her words vague or was just addled from sleep and hunger, Primrose would soon find out. "How does the… procedure work?"
After sitting herself back down, Jiji faced her client with a solemn gaze. “It is not for me to question the workings of the masters. Only to practice the art that has been bestowed upon me, so that the weight of this world’s guilty might bear down a little less heavily. I can only tell you that my ritual will return to you what you’ve lost, giving you the chance to confront your regrets face to face. How you deal with them is up to you.” She paused for a moment, peering into Primrose’s eyes. “...Yes, I can see the regrets you’ve left behind. A dark stain hidden away in the darkness.”
The dancer held her gaze. So Jiji sensed something… and Primrose wasn’t about to walk away before finding out what, especially if it meant the possibility of bringing a loved one back.
"Bring it here," she breathed, "I have to know."
“Then as promised, we will begin the ritual,” Jiji said, her voice ominous. “Please stand back. And ready yourself. Our lingering regrets are not easily dealt with.”
After the dancer backed away, Jiji extended two of her limbs out from beneath her cloak and waved them like the legs of a swimmer. She began a wordless chant, her cry rising in pitch with each intonation. Almost immediately, the ground in front of her began to churn with some sort of black substance like oil or tar, but as it gathered it rose into the air, somewhere between ash and shadow. In streams the darkness coalesced around a central point, quickly growing outward as it accumulated to form a body, a head, arms, and legs. The whole process, bizarrely fast, came to a head within seconds. The dark mass solidified with a wave of displaced air that expanded throughout the Confessor’s home, instantly blowing out the dozens of candles and sending Jiji herself skittering into the shadows, panicked.
Only her eyes were visible, peering from a safe distance, as a woman landed on the ground. She possessed a captivating elegance, wearing a coy smile as easily as she donned crimson silks and jingling gold embellishments. Her sizeable ponytail was a rich dark brown, much like her eyes, but the light within had been snuffed out long ago. The dancer stared at the broken mirror before her with revulsion, maybe even indignation. Then, without a word, she attacked.
What happened was unlike anything Primrose had considered. So bewildered was she by the conjured reflection that she could only stare until she felt the sharp sting of a dagger start to sink to her stomach. Primrose backed away quickly, pressing a hand to her new wound. It wasn't deep enough to be deadly.
The woman, the other Primrose, stood up straight and reset her battle posture... no, not quite - she looked like she was going to dance. She wasn't a copy of Primrose as she was now, but a reflection of the past. The "original" Primrose. It was hard to tell from when. As she'd awoken in this world? From a time before? By the look in her eyes, perhaps even before she'd started to travel Orsterra in earnest.
"What is this?" Primrose demanded. Her eyes searched for Jiji's in the darkness while her counterpart performed the familiar steps of the Peacock Strut. Recognizing that the other Primrose was about to go back on the offensive, this time with empowered magic, the Seeker began conjuring her own spell to counter. Two Moonlight Waltzes crashed together in the center of the room, engulfing it in total blackness for a moment as the shadow magic burst apart.
When the spells faded out, the other Primrose was already completing the last steps of another dance. She’d used the shadows as cover while the current Primrose had drawn her polearm. The two women clashed, one with a lance in hand and the other wielding a dagger in one hand and a fan in the other.
It had taken two rousing dances for the shade, but now both Primroses were about equal in terms of their magical and physical strengths. But if the conjured “regret” was from an earlier time in her life, then the other Primrose had much less battle experience.
The Vengeful Spirit blasted out of Primrose and through her counterpart. She was resilient, but she staggered long enough for a swipe of the ice lance to take her legs out from under her. The shade’s back hit the ground, and she stared up at Primrose in quiet fury. It was surreal.
"What is going on?" Primrose asked, her voice showing some anger that matched her double’s. The Confessor herself had always been vague, but had she been duped by the Master of Masters? Had her expectations just run wild, leading to this? Unfortunately the answers she sought didn’t come to her. Jiji was still hidden away, and the other Primrose surged up from the ground to engage her double once more. She swiped at her opponent with the fan, a chaotic blow that slapped Primrose about until she regained her senses and shoved the other woman away with the shaft of the lance. It was clear she would have to deal with this, whatever it was, before anything else.
Primrose spun the lance in her hand and then struck, slicing through the other dancer’s side as she twisted away and conjured another spell. Her own Dirge of Dusk swirled above her hand, dark and ominous. Three shadowy orbs shot out, though all were neatly punctured or deflected before they could reach their target. Jiji’s home shook slightly with the shocks of battle.
Both Primroses stared each other down, one desperate and angry and the other stubborn and contemptuous. The latter seemed to realize that in a drawn out battle, she would lose. She activated her Battle Boost, giving her body a shimmery glowing aura. Not to be outdone, the first Primrose did the same with a mirthless smile. The building’s interior lit up, light and shadow flickering and bouncing around the room.
Primrose stowed her fan and cast Moonlight Waltz before rushing forward with her dagger poised to strike. Primrose let the spell hit her and jammed her hand into the ground, conjuring the Black Serpent to wind its way toward her other self. Primrose tried to dodge, but the serpent followed, engulfing her for a moment in dark flames. Primrose used the superior reach of her lance to stab at Primrose, but Primrose twirled toward Primrose. Because she wasn’t strong enough to stop the stab completely, she held her dagger up to block and let her other self’s strength push her closer until she was in stabbing range herself, of herself. Primrose raised the dagger and thrust it down toward Primrose’s heart. With a huff Primrose dropped the lance and pulled out her own dagger, moving to let Primrose’s sink into her shoulder so she could line up her own attack against Primrose.
In the blink of an eye it was done, and the room fell into darkness again. The shade coughed, her mouth filling with blood. A lung had been punctured. Primrose didn’t let her guard down, expecting the reflection’s Encore to activate. When it didn’t, she laid her own body on the ground. The other Primrose was once again looking up at her, this time confused. The Seeker could practically hear her own thoughts; how could this happen? How could I die before getting my revenge? Primrose didn’t pity her other self. How could she?
Jiji slowly, carefully crept back out of the darkness. “Ah, you seem to have come to terms with your regrets in a most novel, and dare I say brutal, fashion.” The body of the second Primrose quickly disintegrated, even the ashes seeming to fade away. Their departure left behind one thing, familiar and yet subtly horrifying at the same time: a spirit. Primrose’s spirit. “...What a joy to behold. Farewell for now. I will think of you as I savor my meal.”
It took a few moments for Primrose’s mind to catch up to what she was seeing. The “lost spirit” that Confessor Jiji was able to summon… it was her own? After an already stressful day, both physically and mentally, she could hardly process what had happened.
"Ah, wait," she started to say. But Jiji had already mentioned that she couldn’t say how her own powers worked, in so many words. "..."
Primrose picked up spirit gently, cradling it in both of her hands and peering at the dancer inside. She was smiling coyly in a way that had covered up the misery she’d felt at the time.
What am I to do with her? Primrose wondered. She recalled something else the Master of Masters had said; that a spirit was like a bookmark. She could treat this spirit like a bundle of data, knowing it would have the same effect on her self as any other spirit. Armed with the knowledge she had now, she could guess at what itemizing it or spirit binding it would do. Summoning her old self as a Striker… that would be a little too vain, even for her. But the thought made Primrose puff out a half-hearted giggle. She really needed some sleep.
Since Jiji had already dismissed her, Primrose made her way to the door, chased out by the sound of wet munching. She was disappointed, but that feeling was nothing new. It would have been too easy if things had turned out the way she assumed they would, and the gods had done everything in their power to make sure her life was anything but easy. Before leaving the Confessor’s home, she had to deal with the spirit. She didn’t want to tell anyone else about this, let alone see the “Primrose spirit”, and leaving it behind felt wrong. There was really only one thing to do, then. As she left and headed to the hut she'd picked out for a well deserved night's sleep, she took the spirit and pressed it to her heart with both hands. The gesture was reminiscent of an embrace.
The host has gotten shorter, now standing at 5'10'', still above her original height. She's lost more of her bulkiness and her bust has shrunk back to a manageable size, leaving her with a pleasing hourglass shape and toned stomach and thighs. Her hair has returned to brown for the most part, with only her ponytail bleeding from red to blonde ombre. Her dress has become two pieces again, the top regaining short sleeves. The hem of the top is fashioned with a leather band and the same pale gold ornaments as the rest of her outfit. Her gloves have gotten shorter, now reaching to her elbow, and the silver talons on her fingers have turned gold to match the other metals she wears. The black fishnets on her legs have disappeared, leaving her with sheer maroon tights. The host's personality has become more like her original, so she is less egotistical, boisterous, and vain with a stronger sense of justice. This spirit confers the power Rondo of Dawn, automatically giving her one extra BP when she hits an enemy with a dark element spell once per battle. As a Recursive Fusion, this spirit confers no Weakness.
Word Count: 1200 (+2 exp) Level: 5 - Total EXP: 183/50 Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar
It was nice to see the whole team come back together, not that Pit doubted any of them. By the time everyone reconvened and swapped information about what they'd all run into, the angel was still raring to go. The administration was throwing everything they had at the Seekers, and they were coming out on top every time. It wasn't baseless optimism that kept the pep in Pit's step, it was the confidence that they were going to succeed and free the hundreds of thousands of people that lived in Midgar. He could only hope that everyone could work together after that. With all of their leaders gone, including president Shinra as recently discovered, the citizens would have no choice but to come together if they wanted to have any chance at protecting each other.
He didn't spare any words for Karen when they ran into him - didn't really seem like the right vibe. But he didn't share the suspicion that some of the others held for the man. Like he'd told Luka the night before, if the psychic trusted his brother then Pit would trust him too. And since he opened the way for the Seekers, that was another point in the trustworthy book. No one wasted any time in continuing on.
"Jeez, how big is this place?" Pit asked when they were on their second elevator going down. Did it reach all the way to the Earth's core or something? He couldn't see how far down the structure went, even after getting to what had to be the final stop. Passing through the red-lined hall and out onto a walkway, the only thing he could see was green, green, and more green. Pit had been idly spinning the two halves of his bow in hands as the group moved, unable to just stand or walk still with so much tension and the promise of action ahead; but when the Consul and Master Hand suddenly appeared, he immediately snapped the bow back together and held it up to draw the ethereal string back.
"You!" he shouted, shocked to see the Master Hand here. Or "a" Master Hand. Somehow, Galeem had made a bunch of copies of him. Instinctively he searched the area for the left hand counterpart, though it didn't appear to be around. Pit hadn't seen Master Hand at all since awakening, but he knew that the Seekers in general had seen him a few times already... or seen a few different ones. So he really was enthralled by Galeem, protecting its Guardians!
The various shouts around him confirmed that a few of the current group had run into the hand before. Had they tried fighting him? Freeing him? Pit couldn't truthfully say that Master Hand was a good guy, but he was the kind of antagonist that preferred some amusement over destroying the world. He'd fought together with the Smashers before, and probably would again - if he had his free will.
Of course it wouldn't be easy fighting him. Pit knew from first hand experience that Master Hand was strong. More than that though, the Consul was right there - and his words triggered a flood of enemies at the Seekers' back. Pit whirled around to see the red pods opening up and the Neuron officers climbing out of them. Wait... are these all copies too?! Pit thought, vaguely recognizing one of the women that had pulled him and a few other Seekers out of the Astral Plane a couple days ago - then recognizing another, and another as the same person.
Well they were in for it now. Pit could tell the clones had their chimeras, or legions, or whatever with them because he could vaguely sense the beings - enough to know they were there, but not enough to tell where they were. This was going to be tough.
While the Seekers and the clones spread out to engage each other, Pit turned back ahead. He fired not on Master Hand, but the Consul beside him. If he hoped that a surprise attack could make it through the man's defense, he was left disappointed. Consul Y created a vortex that sucked in the light arrows headed for him, utterly destroying them in the process.
"Gahh!" Pit yelled in frustration. So that wasn't going to work, and with the Akira clones numbers overwhelming the Seekers, he had to switch gears and actually focus on the problem at hand. He turned again and rushed into the thick of the current battle, exchanging his bow for orbitars. Properly equipped like this, they'd move autonomously to block attacks - it was what he'd done last time they were facing these invisible things too.
He took control of one of the floating shields, using it to shoot at the clones around him while the other was left free-flying. As with its namesake the shield kept orbit around Pit and zipped through the air to block incoming damage. Most of the time this was the melee strikes from a clone, as it was a little slow to react to the legions. It could prevent multiple attacks in a row at least, relieving Pit of most of the danger of combos and follow ups while he kept himself mobile.
What was the play here? he thought to himself. Maybe there was some kind of self destruct button they could find to stop all of the clones at once?
An Akira came at him, bringing her baton down onto one of his arms. The strike sent a jolt through Pit's whole body and he let out a hiss of pain. He grabbed her before she followed up, dropping down to roll onto his back while dragging Akira with him, then tucking his knees and kicking up into her stomach. The clone went flying, dragging her legion with her. As Pit jumped to his feet he brought the orbitars together above him to pelt the airborne officer with a flurry of energy shots.
He didn't check to see where she landed since he was immediately under attack again by another clone. He felt something slash his side so he whirled around to face it, but as expected seeing nothing but the Akira the legion was chained to. The orbitars were back to neutral now, spinning around Pit to fend off unseen claws as blades.
It wasn't just Pit struggling; most everyone was having a hard time fending off the clones while they had their invisible legions on hand.
"Here!" Pit suffered a few blows as he disengaged, hopping back to the edge of the fighting and charging up the orbitars. "Stay back!"
When the charge shot was released it came in the form of that giant, pearlescent winged shield. With only the bridge and the hall for footing, it would be hard for the clones to dodge - and it would shoved them all backwards, doing some damage the giving the Seekers a little breathing room until it faded in just a few short seconds. Whether the legions could make it through unscathed he didn't know, since he couldn't see them. The worst would be if they were totally unaffected, so Pit had to assume that was the case.
Appearance: The way Eli looks isn't all that remarkable. The only things that stand out are the odd bandages or scrapes on his face or arms - but for the people that know him well, it's not an uncommon sight. He has small almond shaped brown eyes and his hair is a muddy reddish brown in color, usually with a comb hastily run through it to no avail. He stands a 5'11'' (182cm), and his body frame is boxy. He is by no means an athlete but keeps in decent shape. His personal style favors function over form, but also includes a lot of comfortable clothing.
Personality: Even as a kid, Eli has always been described as down-to-earth. He is a straight forward kind of guy, prone to taking the path of least resistance. He isn't easily stirred to intense emotion, though like anyone he is capable of displaying it if really pushed. Despite the easygoing nature, Eli also has an adventurous heart. His hobbies are hiking and urban exploration, as well as trying out new things. He chips away at projects gradually, prone to dropping things for a new adventure and then coming back to them with a new approach. Basically, Eli goes with the flow of both his own heart and those of the people around him. He doesn't usually sweat the small stuff.
With both friends and strangers he is casual and direct. He is an extrovert that feeds off of positive energy, so he does best in a group and usually seeks out companionship whenever he's alone. He is both trusting and trustworthy, accepting everyone as they are. One major thing about Eli is that he is clumsy or otherwise seems to have bad luck, which is why he's always covered in little nicks and bruises. He's also not particularly good with his hands, so dexterous tasks are beyond him. He has gotten pretty good with first aid though.
History: Eli's life had been pretty average up until the camping trip with his friends. He grew up in a rinky-dink little house with just his mom - single parent, no siblings. They didn't have a lot of money, but they also didn't want for much either.
It was a happy household for the most part, but with his mom working nights and himself in school during the day, Eli was left to his own devices for a lot of the time. He had to find something to do when he was alone, but instead of studying (he gets by fine with his grades as is, only really struggling with some maths and sciences) he took to trying to insert himself into as many different social circles as possible. The more friends, the more stuff he'd have to do so the less bored he would be! It was good in a lot of ways, he learned a lot and got used to talking with people of all stripes. He was hardly ever lonely either. But it also meant a lot of double booking, hurt feelings, peer pressure, and some close calls with more dangerous "friends." The only time he ever remembered his mom yelling at him was one day a police officer had dragged him back home with only a warning.
After that Eli remained friendly with pretty much anyway, but he chose his actual friends a little more seriously. He filled his free time with other random hobbies and a lot of exploration. He'd pretty much memorized the routes of the city's few nature walks. He still never took his schooling seriously though.
Eventually he met a real interesting bunch that all bonded well together despite their differences, a group that he seemed to really click with. He'd pretty much never been happier, but now with graduation and everyone talking about going their separate ways for college, Eli was left questioning what his own plans were. He couldn't exactly tag along with someone... or could he? He had no idea what he wanted to do with himself. The one thing he does know is that he wants to spend as much time with his friends as possible while they're all still together.
Magic
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Element: Fire
Magical Form: Eli transforms when a burst of colorful flames engulf him. When the fire stops he appears with his wounds and body fat burned away, in peak physical condition. His hair becomes slightly longer, spikier, and more deeply red while his eyes glow orange. The outfit he wears comes across as something a fictional, sensationalized martial artist would wear: dogi pants, slippers with a hard sole, a waist cloth, half vest over a bare chest, and impractically long scarf all in varying light and dark shades of red. The look is accented with bronze and gold bangles, belt cord, and stud earrings.
Weapon: A pair of tight leather-like finger-less gloves, deep mahogany in color. There are studs on the knuckles matching the bronze-gold accessories of his outfit, and the palms of each glove feature two different curious rich red symbols.
Abilities: Eli can conjure flames in a variety of colors, temperatures, and sizes, and wreath himself in them without being harmed. The bigger the fire the more fuel it needs, using his stamina and breath. If he can't breathe, he can't burn. He can control existing fires of a non-magical nature, extinguishing them or making them dance. He can heat up his body in general, including on a cellular level to power up and move faster. Finally, Eli's abilities give him robust regenerative properties. As long as he doesn't take a fatal wound, he can burn energy to heal himself from even the most grievous of injuries. Like all his other abilities, the more severe the wound, the more energy the fire needs to heal it over by making it anew. Unknown if he can extend use of this healing factor on others.
Companion
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Name: Fenghuang
Appearance: She takes the form of a small bird, more like a chick than anything, less than a foot tall. Her plumage is vibrantly colored in reds and oranges, with some feathery spots appearing iridescent. Though she is lacking in tail feathers, she still looks very regal.
Personality: Fenghuang wasn't surprised about being trapped in her current body, but seeing that it is a great inconvenience to her she is eager to get the boys to hurry up and finish their quest so she can get back to normal. On top of being pushy, she is stubborn and convinced that she is always right. Fenghuang was revered as one of the oldest and wisest sorceresses in the land, and she is not above throwing her experience and rank around to convince others that her way is best. Even if she's proven wrong, she will rarely ever admit it. She is quite a proud bird, and once she gets to know others she grows extremely protective of them.
When you make a fancy table for the CS and realize after it's completely done that it looks horrible on mobile "orz
Anyway, here is my non-tabled application, finally!
Human
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Name: Elijah “Eli” Phlogiston
Age: 18
Appearance: The way Eli looks isn't all that remarkable. The only things that stand out are the odd bandages or scrapes on his face or arms - but for the people that know him well, it's not an uncommon sight. He has small almond shaped brown eyes and his hair is a muddy reddish brown in color, usually with a comb hastily run through it to no avail. He stands a 5'11'' (182cm), and his body frame is boxy. He is by no means an athlete but keeps in decent shape. His personal style favors function over form, but also includes a lot of comfortable clothing.
Personality: Even as a kid, Eli has always been described as down-to-earth. He is a straight forward kind of guy, prone to taking the path of least resistance. He isn't easily stirred to intense emotion, but is capable of displaying it if really pushed. Despite the easygoing nature, Eli does have an adventurous heart. His hobbies are hiking and urban exploration, as well as trying out new things. He isn't stubborn, but neither is he a quitter. He is just as likely to gradually chip away at something if he can't get it the first time as he is to drop it for a new approach or a new adventure. For the most part, Eli goes with the flow. He doesn't usually sweat the small stuff.
With both friends and strangers he is casual and direct. He is an extrovert that feeds off of positive energy, so he does best in a group and usually seeks out companionship whenever he's alone. He is both trusting and trustworthy, accepting everyone as they are. One major thing about Eli is that he is clumsy or otherwise seems to have bad luck, which is why he's always covered in little nicks and bruises. He's also not particularly good with his hands, so dexterous tasks are beyond him. He has gotten pretty good with first aid though.
History: Eli's life had been pretty average up until the camping trip with his friends. He grew up in a rinky-dink little house with just his mom - single parent, no siblings. They didn't have a lot of money, but they also didn't want for much either.
It was a happy household for the most part, but with his mom working nights and himself in school during the day, Eli was left to his own devices for a lot of the time. He had to find something to do when he was alone, but instead of studying (he gets by fine with his grades as is, only really struggling with some maths and sciences) he took to trying to insert himself into as many different social circles as possible. The more friends, the more stuff he'd have to do so the less bored he would be! It was good in a lot of ways, he learned a lot and got used to talking with people of all stripes. He was hardly ever lonely either. But it also meant a lot of double booking, hurt feelings, peer pressure, and some close calls with more dangerous "friends." The only time he ever remembered his mom yelling at him was one day a police officer had dragged him back home with only a warning.
After that Eli remained friendly with pretty much anyway, but he chose his actual friends a little more seriously. He filled his free time with other random hobbies and a lot of exploration. He'd pretty much memorized the routes of the city's few nature walks. He still never took his schooling seriously though.
Eventually he met a real interesting bunch that all bonded well together despite their differences, a group that he seemed to really click with. He'd pretty much never been happier, but now with graduation and everyone talking about going their separate ways for college, Eli was left questioning what his own plans were. He couldn't exactly tag along with someone... or could he? He had no idea what he wanted to do with himself. The one thing he does know is that he wants to spend as much time with his friends as possible while they're all still together.
Magic
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Element: Fire
Magical Form: Eli transforms when a burst of colorful flames engulf him. When the fire stops he appears with his wounds and body fat burned away, in peak physical condition. His hair becomes slightly longer, spikier, and more deeply red while his eyes glow orange. He outfit he wears comes across as something a fictional, sensationalized martial would wear: dogi pants, slippers with a hard sole, a waist cloth, half vest, and impractically long scarf all in varying light and dark shades of red. The look is accented with bronze and gold bangles, belt cord, and stud earrings.
Weapon: A pair of tight leather-like finger-less gloves, deep mahogany in color. There are studs on the knuckles matching the bronze-gold accessories of his outfit, and the palms of each glove feature two different curious rich red symbols.
Abilities: Eli can conjure flames in a variety of colors, temperatures, and sizes, and wreath himself in them without being harmed. The bigger the fire the more fuel it needs, using his stamina and breath. If he can't breathe, he can't burn. He can control existing fires of a non-magical nature, extinguishing them or making them dance. He can heat up his body in general, including on a cellular level to power up and move faster. Finally, Eli's abilities give him robust regenerative properties. As long as he doesn't take a fatal wound, he can burn energy to heal himself from even the most grievous of injuries. Like all his other abilities, the more severe the wound, the more energy the fire needs to heal it over by making it anew. Unknown if he can extend use of this healing factor on others.
Companion
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Name: Fenghuang
Appearance: She takes the form of a small bird, more like a chick than anything, less than a foot tall. Her plumage is vibrantly colored in reds and oranges, with some feathery spots appearing iridescent. Though she is lacking in tail feathers, she still looks very regal.
Personality: Fenghuang wasn't surprised about being trapped in her current body, but seeing that it is a great inconvenience to her she is eager to get the boys to hurry up and finish their quest so she can get back to normal. On top of being pushy, she is stubborn and convinced that she is always right. Fenghuang was revered as one of the oldest and wisest sorceresses in the land, and she is not above throwing her experience and rank around to convince others that her way is best. Even if she's proven wrong, she will rarely ever admit it. She is quite a proud bird, and once she gets to know others she grows extremely protective of them.
The remainder of the ride (or this portion of it anyway, there was a lot more to go in general) was full of the squad's "normal" antics. It was kind of nice that they all could remain their usual selves - even the most unusual of them. After spending so long together, this being their last hurrah... no, bettering not to bring that up even just to himself. Like he'd said, this was a vacation. It was still much too early in to worry about things like that.
La𝚗ce hopped out of the back of the truck, glad to be able to stretch his legs. He raised his arms over his head and laced his fingers together, making a pleased noise when he finished unfolding himself. He fit right in alongside his peers in dusty jeans and a black tank top beneath a gray hoodie so threadbare that it was comfortable even in the heat. The slightly garish scarf he usually kept with him was pulled through the belt loops of his pants, and his orange hair was thoroughly windblown.
As they were speeding down the road, La𝚗ce could see Sapple Springs in all its by-gone glory. Actually being in it, well... "What do they call this kinda place again? ...'quaint'?"
That was probably a good word for it. Too good of a word maybe. La𝚗ce couldn't really hate places like this, stubbornly clinging to life while the world passed them by. That didn't mean he particularly liked them either though. He did roll his eyes at Gerard when he made the comment about it not being good for his shoes, making an exaggerated show out of it.
It had, in fact, been just he and Justice that had come up with their travel plans. No one else was interested, and so the route was focused more on efficiency than comfort. He had a feeling their squad leader might have slipped in one or two pit stops solely as a joke, but he hadn't called her on it.
"I'm sure there's all kinds of excitement here, like... playing is there a scorpion in my shoe? in the morning, and is a hillbilly gonna break into my room? at night." He said, glacing to Silje. He wiggled his fingers ominously as he spoke, but after a moment he seemed to realize that at least one of those things might happen for real. "Okay but actually, do check your shoes later."
While the others wandered away from the truck for the most part, La𝚗ce got to work unloading it. The WARDENs hadn't brought much in the first place - food and drink for the road, maybe a duffel filled with a couple changes of clothes (or more than a couple in Gerard's case). Still, wild animals or nosy humans could get into anything left in the bed overnight. Maybe one of the others could cast a barrier to keep them out now that he thought about it, but he'd already tossed a few bags over the side so might as well keep going.
When Silje had first called out to Kalina, La𝚗ce had just laughed and left them to it. He very much doubted Tony was actually making friends in there, but hopefully the thing about the buffalo didn't set anyone off. Then everyone had more or less made their way to the store and weren't coming back out of it.
Seeing as whatever situation was developing wasn't dying down, La𝚗ce jogged over to see what exactly was going on. He didn't enter the rundown store, instead coming up to stand by Gerard where they could see what was happening through the windows and run in if they were needed.
"Is this a new record?" he asked off-handedly, rubbing at his ear when Gerard's spell went off. He didn't actually think any of Barghest were going to kill these guys if a fight did break out. They were a ragtag bunch, yeah, but they were disciplined. La𝚗ce didn't know what set Tony off, or if Tony had set one of the locals off, but he was going to side with his friend and fellow squadmate even if it was the latter. Especially if it was the latter.
Then Justice stepped in to de-escalate... actually, that hardly sounded like de-escalating.
"I hate when she says shit like that," La𝚗ce sighed. Maybe "is a hillbilly gonna break into my room?" would actually be a real thing they'd have to worry about, along with the scorpions.
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8fb8f456-882a-426c-a680-b47401f20c22.png[/img]
[b]If you're on my page, check out the RP [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193061-world-of-light-the-endless-now-the-ultimate-vg-crossover-rp/ooc]World of Light[/url]![/b]
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[h3][sub][color=gray]♤[/color] 21+ [color=gray]|[/color] UTC-5 [color=gray]|[/color] Casual Roleplayer [color=gray]|[/color] 1x1's: [b]Closed[/b] [color=gray]♤[/color][/sub][/h3]
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Hello! I'm [color=springgreen]Yankee[/color].
I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc.
I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic (for character) stories. I enjoy creating original characters for RP,
but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games!
On that note I like comic books, cartoons, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!
I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is [color=springgreen]once per week[/color] or less. I usually post on [color=springgreen]weekends[/color].
I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously.
[b]Remember[/b]: fiction =/= reality.
Feel free to PM me to chat!
However [color=tomato]I do not check PMs immediately.[/color] Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.
[img]https://i.ibb.co/P4wPy1C/st-small-507x507-pad-600x600-f8f8f8.png[/img]
Forward all complaints to [@stone]
and remember,
[img]https://i.imgur.com/fOFItBP.png[/img][/center]
[right][sub][sub][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/179862-yankees-characters-past-present/ooc]Character Storage Locker.[/url][/sub][/sub][/right]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8fb8f456-882a-426c-a680-b47401f20c22.png" /><br><br><span class="bb-b">If you're on my page, check out the RP <a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193061-world-of-light-the-endless-now-the-ultimate-vg-crossover-rp/ooc">World of Light</a>!</span><br><font color="gray">___________________________________________________________________</font><br><div class="bb-h3"><sub><font color="gray">♤</font> 21+ <font color="gray">|</font> UTC-5 <font color="gray">|</font> Casual Roleplayer <font color="gray">|</font> 1x1's: <span class="bb-b">Closed</span> <font color="gray">♤</font></sub></div><br><font color="gray">___________________________________________________________________</font><br><br>Hello! I'm <font color="springgreen">Yankee</font>. <br>I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc.<br>I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic (for character) stories. I enjoy creating original characters for RP, <br>but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games!<br>On that note I like comic books, cartoons, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!<br><br>I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is <font color="springgreen">once per week</font> or less. I usually post on <font color="springgreen">weekends</font>. <br>I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously.<br><span class="bb-b">Remember</span>: fiction =/= reality.<br><br>Feel free to PM me to chat! <br>However <font color="tomato">I do not check PMs immediately.</font> Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.<br><br><img src="https://i.ibb.co/P4wPy1C/st-small-507x507-pad-600x600-f8f8f8.png" /><br><br>Forward all complaints to <a class="bb-mention" href="/users/stone">@stone</a><br><br>and remember,<br><br><img src="https://i.imgur.com/fOFItBP.png" /></div><br><br><div class="bb-right"><sub><sub><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/179862-yankees-characters-past-present/ooc">Character Storage Locker.</a></sub></sub></div></div>