Username: Applemint
Spoiler
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Class: Dark Mage
Appearance: Kieran is around average height, standing at 5'5". He's rather effeminate, with a slight, skinny build. His shadowed eyes hold a sharp contrast to his pale skin, and he's almost never seen without his tome.
Kieran dons a ebony cloak with a silver trim, under which he wears a white collared shirt. He also wears dark-brown leather boots that rise to mid-calf. He has a single earring through his right ear, a small iron hoop that shines duly under sunlight. Since he's not an official dark mage, he doesn't wear the standard tights and cape of military sorcerers.
History: Born on a small farm specializing in raising sheep, Kieran grew up as a shepherd, spending his days watching the fluffy beasts grazing on his family's lush fields. The wool business made just enough money to support them; as such, Kieran rarely had any toys to play with. He passed the time by practicing with the dusty wind tome his parents had given him—aiming small gusts at the backsides of mutton, laughing as they whirled about in confusion.
So when he found the Flux tome lying innocently in the hayloft, he was understandably excited.
The first person he wanted to show his find to was his best friend, so Kieran invited him over to the farm. A small voice nagged him to practice first, but he ignored it—after all, how different could this be from the wind tome he was used to?
Very different, it turned out. A slight mispronounciation of the ancient speech caused the Flux tome to misfire, swerving away from the target and crashing straight into the chest of Kieran's companion.
Kieran fled. Looking back, it was the cowardly thing to do, but the shock of the moment was too much. He didn't even check if his friend was dead, but surely no one could survive such a blow...
He ran, ran until his legs gave out, and then he crawled. He didn't know how long he traveled—he followed a river upstream, using his only weapon, the tome, to catch food. Eventually, Kieran collapsed inside a village, where he was fed and given a bed by an old housewife. He remained in said village, doing odd jobs here and there, and has remained ever since.
Personality: Kieran joined the Steel Strikers because he wishes to redeem himself by using his "cursed powers" for good. He's scared of getting too close, yet yearns for someone he can depend on.
Kieran has a ridiculously high pain threshold, often fighting until either someone drags him off the battlefield, or he collapses from blood loss. He rarely even notices an injury, and if it's bad enough that he can feel it, he tries to hide it.
Kieran believes that his hands are eternally stained with the blood of his best friend, and thus has no qualms against massacring more people. But he does all he can to prevent people from killing for the first time—according to him, murder is a burden no one should willingly take on.
Orientation: Demisexual
Weapons: Flux
Other:
Gender: Male
Class: Dark Mage
Appearance: Kieran is around average height, standing at 5'5". He's rather effeminate, with a slight, skinny build. His shadowed eyes hold a sharp contrast to his pale skin, and he's almost never seen without his tome.
Kieran dons a ebony cloak with a silver trim, under which he wears a white collared shirt. He also wears dark-brown leather boots that rise to mid-calf. He has a single earring through his right ear, a small iron hoop that shines duly under sunlight. Since he's not an official dark mage, he doesn't wear the standard tights and cape of military sorcerers.
History: Born on a small farm specializing in raising sheep, Kieran grew up as a shepherd, spending his days watching the fluffy beasts grazing on his family's lush fields. The wool business made just enough money to support them; as such, Kieran rarely had any toys to play with. He passed the time by practicing with the dusty wind tome his parents had given him—aiming small gusts at the backsides of mutton, laughing as they whirled about in confusion.
So when he found the Flux tome lying innocently in the hayloft, he was understandably excited.
The first person he wanted to show his find to was his best friend, so Kieran invited him over to the farm. A small voice nagged him to practice first, but he ignored it—after all, how different could this be from the wind tome he was used to?
Very different, it turned out. A slight mispronounciation of the ancient speech caused the Flux tome to misfire, swerving away from the target and crashing straight into the chest of Kieran's companion.
Kieran fled. Looking back, it was the cowardly thing to do, but the shock of the moment was too much. He didn't even check if his friend was dead, but surely no one could survive such a blow...
He ran, ran until his legs gave out, and then he crawled. He didn't know how long he traveled—he followed a river upstream, using his only weapon, the tome, to catch food. Eventually, Kieran collapsed inside a village, where he was fed and given a bed by an old housewife. He remained in said village, doing odd jobs here and there, and has remained ever since.
Personality: Kieran joined the Steel Strikers because he wishes to redeem himself by using his "cursed powers" for good. He's scared of getting too close, yet yearns for someone he can depend on.
Kieran has a ridiculously high pain threshold, often fighting until either someone drags him off the battlefield, or he collapses from blood loss. He rarely even notices an injury, and if it's bad enough that he can feel it, he tries to hide it.
Kieran believes that his hands are eternally stained with the blood of his best friend, and thus has no qualms against massacring more people. But he does all he can to prevent people from killing for the first time—according to him, murder is a burden no one should willingly take on.
Orientation: Demisexual
Weapons: Flux
Other:
And here's the revised/complete version of Tsura:
Username: Applemint
Spoiler
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Class: Archer
Appearance: Tsura probably stands at about 5'3", but it's hard to tell because she's almost always sleeping. Her eyes are usually closed, but when she opens them, they're a bright teal. Her hair is a light, powdery blue--though whether that's because of a failed hair-dyeing scheme or the result of wacky fantasy genetics is impossible to tell.
She has a ridiculously impractical fashion taste, relishing in lace and ribbons and pink. She goes to great lengths to make sure her hair is impeccable each day, and it's rare to see her with a single strand loose—the same obsessive perfectionism goes for her clothes, as well.
History: Tsura was born into a merchant family, so they were relatively wealthy compared to the other villagers. She lived a life of comfort, learning how to sew and cook with her mother, and occasionally minding the store for her father.
For her birthday, she asked for a bow. Her mother made her a pretty hair bow, her father gave her an iron bow from the shop, and that one weird uncle got her a violin bow, minus the violin. She loved all of the gifts, including the solitary violin bow—it was good for shooing away the stray cats that sometimes gathered around the house. There was little to practice her iron bow on, but practice she did, until she could sorta-kinda-maybe hit the target most of the time. The hair bow was worn everyday, and eventually she made more. To this day, no one knows what she exactly wanted, when she asked for a bow.
Personality: Tsura is a kind, cheerful girl with a predisposition for falling asleep at random times. Like in the middle of a conversation, or even in the midst of battle—though the safety of that is very much debatable.
She's ditzy and innocent, joining the Striker group because "they seemed like nice people!". Trusting to a fault, she's easily taken advantage of or tricked.
Tsura's not that bad of an archer, though her strengths mostly lie in her uncanny ability to dodge most attacks thrown her way—a necessary skill for someone who often dozes on their feet. But once an attack lands, it's pretty much game over for her; her low defenses and inability to counterattack make her extremely vulnerable.
Orientation: Panromantic Asexual
Weapons: Iron Bow
Other:
Gender: Female
Class: Archer
Appearance: Tsura probably stands at about 5'3", but it's hard to tell because she's almost always sleeping. Her eyes are usually closed, but when she opens them, they're a bright teal. Her hair is a light, powdery blue--though whether that's because of a failed hair-dyeing scheme or the result of wacky fantasy genetics is impossible to tell.
She has a ridiculously impractical fashion taste, relishing in lace and ribbons and pink. She goes to great lengths to make sure her hair is impeccable each day, and it's rare to see her with a single strand loose—the same obsessive perfectionism goes for her clothes, as well.
History: Tsura was born into a merchant family, so they were relatively wealthy compared to the other villagers. She lived a life of comfort, learning how to sew and cook with her mother, and occasionally minding the store for her father.
For her birthday, she asked for a bow. Her mother made her a pretty hair bow, her father gave her an iron bow from the shop, and that one weird uncle got her a violin bow, minus the violin. She loved all of the gifts, including the solitary violin bow—it was good for shooing away the stray cats that sometimes gathered around the house. There was little to practice her iron bow on, but practice she did, until she could sorta-kinda-maybe hit the target most of the time. The hair bow was worn everyday, and eventually she made more. To this day, no one knows what she exactly wanted, when she asked for a bow.
Personality: Tsura is a kind, cheerful girl with a predisposition for falling asleep at random times. Like in the middle of a conversation, or even in the midst of battle—though the safety of that is very much debatable.
She's ditzy and innocent, joining the Striker group because "they seemed like nice people!". Trusting to a fault, she's easily taken advantage of or tricked.
Tsura's not that bad of an archer, though her strengths mostly lie in her uncanny ability to dodge most attacks thrown her way—a necessary skill for someone who often dozes on their feet. But once an attack lands, it's pretty much game over for her; her low defenses and inability to counterattack make her extremely vulnerable.
Orientation: Panromantic Asexual
Weapons: Iron Bow
Other:
Tell me if they're too Mary-Sue, and I'll change it!
Perhaps one of them could save Marth's healer guy? Unless you have other plans.
((If you want me to post these in the main thread, just tell me! I didn't want to clutter the thread up, haha.))
