π I like the look of this, and may create a faction with my character if possible.
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
Nope, still don't work. Might be an issue on Discord's end.
Gonna flip through through discord, see if I can find any of our old conversations, because it might work over the app.
She didnβt dwell on the thought for long as she made her way towards Alex, her footsteps light and quiet as she swiftly crept up behind him. She reached up on her toes and leaned in so she was inches from his ear before she whispered a, βBooβ A Cheshire grin played on her features as she manoeuvred herself from behind him to beside him, βMorning,β she greeted, as if sheβd arrived on time, her playful expression faded slightly as the new mentor approached the group once more, calling for volunteers. She eyed the man intently for a moment, trying to figure out who he was. She definitely recognised him, but he wasnβt as memorable as Flash or Cyborg. Tilting her head to the side, ever so slightly, she leaned towards Alex once more, βWhoβs the new Drill Sergeant?β she asked quietly. | ..................................................... ... |
Behind the police barricades and the news crews trying to get a shot of the costumed heroes stood a young man with a somewhat familar silhouette. Walking off with no real direction the guy looked down and to his surprise there was an odd looking zippo-style lighter with a rune etched onto the sides. "Who drops somethin' that looks this badass?! I bet it probably doesn't even..." the person began to say striking the lighter. Suddenly a faint echo of thousands of screams caught his attention and there was a large blonde man in a green business suit with creepy teeth that sort of just appeared on the edge of the parking lot. "Hello, young man. I see you've found what belongs to me. What can a demon lord with immeasurable power do for you in return?" Neron asked. | ..................................................... ... |
βThe hell?β her voice was void of anger, if anything slightly annoyed. Her hand reached for her right forearm, rubbing it ever so slightly - she felt no pain, however a ghost twinge reverberated through the two bones, as if they ached. βYou throw lamps at every man you come across?β she asked, folding her arms over her bare chest, she stood straight, as if she was not at all phased by her lack of clothes, her legs positioned so one partly crossed over the other, covering the majority of her lower area. βNo wonder youβre single.β her lips twitched upwards ever so slightly at her own quip. βI only throw lamps at rampaging villiansβ Chie was quick to correct as she nervously averted her eyes. She had remembered Apparitions powers but the finer details had alluded her in the heat of the moment. Still, she was relieved no one was hurt, save for a miserable clone, she felt a sting at The comment about her relationships though, and it took everything in her power not to snap back. βLook, just warn me before come up to us in a new bodyββ she clarified with a moan of frustration.. | ..................................................... ... |
βItβs so cute, donβt you think?β He didnβt have time to give her an answer when twoβ¦ no, one guy, split into twoβ¦ or twinsβ¦ entered the arcade, trashing it. Her expression dropped as she watched the scene with little amusement. She and Alex looked like civilians, and she silently wished they could just keep pretending, but she knew his personality wouldnβt allow for that. She was proven right as Alex immediately jumped to action, and with a sigh she watched as he attacked one of the adversaries. She stood back and folded her arms over her body, hugging the toy Alex had just given her, watching the two trouble makers intently. They appeared to be searching for something, and judging by the guy's obvious growing frustration, she grew interested as to what it was. | ..................................................... ... |
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Arina LΓ©cuyer _________________________________________________________ October 17th, 2003 | 19 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Single | β | Heterosexual _________________________________________________________ Full-Time | Six Years | Cyborg _________________________________________________________ New York | New York | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S P O W E R S & W E A K N E S S E S P O W E R S & W E A K N E S S E S | B R I E F B I O G R A P H Y B R I E F B I O G R A P H Y Indifferent β Perceptive β Unmotivated Birthed in New York, Arina had invested a lot of her lifestyle volunteering for the "greater cause" or so she was told. The LΓ©cuyer maintained a strong reputation, depicted as incredible wordsmiths; painting colourful lies in the blood of those sacrificed for "the cause". Torn from the womb of their lifeless Mother, she and her twin, Kenna led extremely different lifestyles as well as remote lifestyles - barely having anything to do with one aother, or even their older Brother, Christopher. Each of the LΓ©cuyer siblinngs were subject to their own specialised training, often kept totally isolated, even their interactions with the maids kept to a minimum. An incredibly old and noble family, the LΓ©cuyer had a well established and successful mercenary group. Her Father, head of the family, was a cold soldier with the highest expectations for all of his children. According to her order in birth and the LΓ©cuyer family customs, Arinaβs role (outside of becoming a soldier to fight in their army) was assist her Brother in fulfilling his duties as the heir to the LΓ©cuyer line. As fist born daughter, she was expected to expand the familyβs fortune, influence and wealth through marriage. Groomed and primed to be the perfect wife, she was put through relentless and grim training sessions, learning the art of desire, manipulation and receiving the best education money could buy. Until such time as she was sold off to some arranged political deal, it was her duty to ensure smooth alliances and serve as the pillar of support for her Brother, in and out of field. With values and traditions so antiquated, Arina often questioned whether or not her Father and the Elders realised it was no longer fifteenth century France. While other young children played in the field, with sticks or dolls, she spent her hours in a room of mirrors; she spent her hours in a space of glass, surrounded by mirrors, getting to know each and every muscle in her face, and how to manipulate it. For years, she refined the artwork of emotion and expression. She was only permitted to graduate to the next stage in her curriculum, adding combat into the mix, when she was able to maintain a cheerful expression without falter while being beaten within an inch of her life. All whilst she accelerated her skills, she was subject to merciless and brtutal methods of training. full of life and nearly merciless strategies of education. In her early teens, she made her debut among the socialites of New York and the upper class of both national and international connections. She need to be versed in most subjects, she needed to be a fluent diplomat; and when being questioned in regards to even the most remote village in the world, it was imperative that she knew it so well, that when she answered the question, it would sound almost as if she were reading it from a book in her hands. It is a well known fact, the LΓ©cuyer Family gained so much success and power due to the fact they hailed from a repeating line of Meta-Humans. With this in mind, their main goal was to ensure the security and longevity of the Family and the Organisation. When a LΓ©cuyer child reached the age of Thirteen, they would undergo the Familys "Coming of Age" ritual. An event where the Meta-Human gene was force activated through a series of incredibly dangerous and grueling experiences that put them through high levels of physical and mental trauma. She barely made it through the ritual alive, and with no time to mentally process what had just taken place or understand her new abilities she was sent to join her siblings in the field. Any independent thought or disobedience for the LΓ©cuyer was to be slighted out at the first gesture of defiance. Techniques crafted by the Mercenary Faction for the sole use of destroying the spirit of those dared to defy the LΓ©cuyer were eployed by her Father and exercised as correctional styles for Arina and her siblings. This would crush any fabrication of "dreams" and liberated ideals. In the same way a puppet was delicately handcrafted to the creator's desire, Arina was meticulously manufactured to serve the Family's goal, and there was no place for even the slightest derailment. After the demise of her Father - assassinated by her Brother, Arina was suddenly thrown into what sould have been her Brother's place, as head of her Family and subsequently the next Commander of the Mercenary Faction; two titles she didnβt much care for. She had spent her entire life being moulded into a specific person who was suited for a specific function, only to find herself no longer relevant to that role with ten times the responsibility thrust upon her. She had never envied her Brother, always believing the future mapped out for him was even far more bleak than hers. And now she was in his shoes, with her Sister now set to fulfill a Arina had been primed for, she felt slightly ill. The one thing she had hated she was now free of; it was slightly sardonic, she thought, that escaping the future she dreaded, she landed herself in an even darker one. It took her less than two months to throw in the towel, taking a good portion of the Family fortune and riches, she vanished. She grew weary appeasing the Board and the LΓ©cuyer Elders, weary of living a life of murder and waging wars on behalf of the highest bidder and of appeasing the elders. And after a year of living independently and enjoying the luxuries of freedom, what was later labelled "The LΓ©cuyer Incident" shattered her newfound peace. In short, her twin Sister had sought her help, and while being pursued by their Brother, she led them straight to Arina. After her refusal to join Christopher in his new faction, a three way sibling argument, the complete annihilation of her new home and a three day hunt, in which she was the prey, her lack of control over her abilities had racked up a seven person body count. In the course of being pursued by their brother, her sister sought her help and she led them straight to Arina. After she refused to join Christopher in his new group, a three way sibling argument, a three day hunt and her inability to control her abilities, fatigue and stress had caused a seven person body count, most of whom were innocent civilans. She'd never say it, but she was immensely fortunate that Cyborg and Co. arrived at the right time; they drove her Brother and his crew back, forcing a withdwael, before turning on her to make her pay for the unwarranted hurt and destruction she'd caused. It was then she was dealt the biggest insult sheβd ever received: Cyborg gave her an ultimatum, both be a part of the Titans and examine to manipulate her lethal abilities in order to help her to control them; or face the law, taking most of the blame for βThe Incidentβ. Everything in her screamed no, and her pride nearly precipitated her to take delivery of her Brotherβs invitation out of pure spite. He gave her a deadline and an address. She had four months to decide, and she considered at length how long she could run while being hunted by the Titans. The notion of joining a new Faction no better than her Family was no more pleasant. Addtionally, if she were caught, she'd spend the rest of her life locked away with different Meta-Humans with an affinity closer to the darker underworld. So, it was with relctance she appeared at Titans tower at the literal last second of the deadline with an unbelievable amount of suitcases, oil and polish for Cyclops and a book titled "How to Slow Down in Bed" for Flash. S A M P L E P O S T S A M P L E P O S T "Sorry, not sorry." When he witnessed the death of NicΓ©phore LΓ©cuyer and his only male heir, Pachid couldnβt say he hadnβt felt slightly relieved. NicΓ©phore had ruled over the LΓ©cuyer with such an iron fist, it was often hard to breathe. With the mercenary army at his disposal, it was a widely known fact that the walls within the LΓ©cuyerβs ground had eyes, and there wasnβt a single action that went unknown to him. As the future advisor to the next heir, one thing that often unsettled Pachid (NicΓ©phoreβs cruel and sinister leadership aside) was the knowledge that when the LΓ©cuyer Tyrant did eventually step downβ¦ or dieβ¦ his rebellious, hot shot son would take his place. And while Pachid loved Christopher as if he were his own brother, the idea of a life spent narrowly avoiding major political fallouts because of his arrogant and fearless attitude had always felt like fuel to the already exhausting sickness that coursed through his bloodstream. Simply serving as the right hand to the LΓ©cuyer Familyβs heir was tiring enough, and the knowledge that the rest of his days would be spent cleaning up the messes that had the potential to destroy one of the oldest and most revered Meta-Human Families in existence had often made him wonder if death were an easier choice. Thus it was, on the night that NicΓ©phore LΓ©cuyer, head of his Family and Leader of the The Sacred Entente along with his only Son (and first born, next heir and second in command to The Sacred Entente) disappeared in exile, a strange feeling of relief flooded through him as he watched Arina, the Princess of the LΓ©cuyer Family, and his new charge, stand over her Fatherβs body, in a visible state of unease. She was stained in his blood, the only sign of emotion on her features, the trembling of her fists. In that moment, Pachid felt a sense of hope. Hope that after an era of ironfisted brutality and darkness, some form of normality and peace could take hold within the Family. His moment of hope, however, quickly turned to bitter taste on his lips, accompanied by a heavy blow to the confidence he held in his own intelligence. As he attempted to help the young LΓ©cuyer Princess navigate her way through the ocean of paperwork, research and revision in order for her to take over, he was slightly dismayed to realise just how alike she and her Brother really were. In fact, the only member in the main branch of the LΓ©cuyer who could be deemed even close to what heβd consider βnormalβ (at the very least, not unpredictably insane) was not Arina, but her twin Kenna. The youngest of the twins, much to the misfortune of all who stood under the umbrella of the LΓ©cuyer (along with those affiliated), had the terrible sense to finish the race from her mother's womb moments after Arina; effectively dooming them all to hell and placing a mark on the beginning of The Sacred Ententeβs steady decline into complete destruction (in Pachidβs humble opinion). It hadnβt even been a fortnight and it was an almost daily occurrence that he was met with either a feeling of dismay, disbelief or irritation; sometimes (or often), he was full of all three. As he took the seat in front of her late Fatherββs desk, observing the thin Princess before him, his mood was just that. Although, he felt a new emotion that had been added to the cauldron in stomach, bubbling to the surface: anxiety... or panic - he was having trouble trying to figure out which it was. Yet, as he watched Arina fill out a form to transfer an enormous fortune into a personal account, he figured heβd soon find out as each stroke of her pen caused the pit in his stomach to deepen. "When you said you wanted out, Arina, I didn't think you were serious." His tone was blunt and void of emotion and he lazily leaned back, settling into the arms and allowing his body to slide down and she paused for a moment. Her vibrant light sapphire irises flickered up to his royal blue ones and her brow slightly furrowed with confusion as she almost pouted, gazing at Pachid as if he was unable to keep up. "I donβt know what gave you that idea considering, I said, thereβs no way Iβm going to spend the rest of my days being dictated to by a board of directors who want nothing but power and wealth, and are willing to force me to sacrifice any values or freedom in order to give to them; Iβd rather dieβ¦ so the best course of action for all is my departure.β Pachid raised an eyebrow at the girl, as her over dramatic and seemingly innocent gaze found his own indifferent one, and he noticed it somehow made her eyes look even larger; however, almost as soon as their eyes locked, her entire expression dropped into a blunt deadpan - her eyes losing all the life and vibrancy they had just held, "If you interpreted that as sarcasm, that is entirely your fault - and you have no one to blame other than yourself." She nonchalantly turned her attention back to the task at hand and he blinked twice in confusion at her matter of fact tone before his face scrunching a little as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A silence filled the room as he tried to process the rambling and utter ridiculousness of what he'd just heard. He continued to stare at the paradox of a girl as if it would help him to further understand what was going on in her mind. He felt frustration flash through his body, putting him on edge, and he inwardly tried to push it back down into the cauldron of uneasiness it had come from. This girl. She was on the brink of becoming one of the most powerful political figures in the defence industry. She was Leader of one of the most respected and oldest Families in France and now the States, a role she had only held for a day. Hand in hand with her position in the Family, the highest rank in The Sacred Entente was to be bestowed upon her. The only thing to do in order to attain said power, was be sworn in during the upcoming Ceremony and it would all be official. However, after reading a travel magazine, she was now about to throw it all away. She hadnβt even taken a moment to stop and think about her actions and the effect they would have on the Family, as well as her. Within the hour of said magazine, she had been in the process of signing away her rank. And she was doing this all on a whim. He felt slightly ill as his irises followed the pen which looped around, forming the main section of her signature and a small part of him that hoped this was all some sort of elaborate prank; however, he felt as if he were coming to a dead end. A thought crossed his mind as he rested his chin in his palm, closing his eyes for a moment. She was less hot headed than her Brother and didnβt carry herself with the same arrogance that Christopher did. Despite this, however, she was equally as defiant to the βchainsβ which bound her to the duties expected of her by the Family. It was painstakingly clear she had absolutely no interest in her new position, nor did she even pretend to care about making it appear as if she was taking her responsibilities the slightest bit seriously. Pachid opened his eyes, his serious gaze now fixed on Arina. It was those traits that made her far more dangerous and unruly than her brother. Chris was a hot head, when he felt trapped, he would grow frustrated and rattle his βcageβ in anger - metaphorically, and physically. However, at the end of the day, like a bratty child, he could always be talked into the correct course of action, or, be simply and sternly told βNoβ. Arina, on the other hand, did not have her brother's short temper. On a larger scale than her Brother, didnβt respond well to being dedicated to, by her own Board Members. When it all bubbled down down, her instinctual reaction whenever she felt the chains of Nobility begin to tighten, she would quickly and calmly come up with a solution that not only resulted in her getting exactly what she wanted, but doing so in a way that publicly boosted her popularity and severely impared the other Official Members of her Family and Army, out of pure spite. That realisation caused him to seriously consider bowing out of nobility with a sword to the abdomen and accepting the sweet embrace of death while he could, with his dignity still intact. |