Mercy Onidas

MERCY ONIDAS

Human

Hacker

Knight Haven

coming soon
Age: 19

King Skylar Callum Tempest

KING SKYLAR CALLUM TEMPEST

Elf

King of Amderarm

Amderarm

Age: 314

coming soon

Rhyme

RHYME

"The Golden King""The Hidden"

Wanderer

Servants

-

Ability Unknown

coming soon

Sinai / Everest / Nevada Olanga Negrev

SINAI / EVEREST / NEVADA OLANGA NEGREV

Sinai

- true self -

Everest

- true instinct -

Nevada

- true reason -

Earth Cerberus

Diplomat and Guard to the King

Ko-goro

age 27

Sinai- true self

Quieter and softer, her personality is less big and bold, more filled with lots of little quirks. She's less dramatic that Everest, but with a wider range of emotions than either of them.

Everest- instinct

Everest is beautiful, seductive, flirty and moody. She's easily irritated and easily pleased, but she's stubborn and passionate and will throw herself headlong into a cause or a person with regard for the world.

Nevada- reason

Cold, and impassive with logic on her side. Nevada always has as strategy, and she won't let moral qualms get in her way.   People don't interest her, she only cares if they can fit into her plans and she's not afraid to be cruel.

Ain Edasichea

AIN EDASICHEA

ame: Ain Edasichea
Race: Elf
Age: 48
Gender: female
City: Amderarm
Rank/Role/Occupation: TBD
Description/Personality/Histo

Cordellia

CORDELLIA

no title

no rank

Servants

_

Mental Influence

the ability to alter the way someone feels emotionally and physically or the way one thinks

Cordellia is not quite sure when she appeared, nor how long it has been since that time. The passage of time means little to her. Events that do not directly affect her mean nothing. She does not care about wars and very rarely takes sides in them. Intangible things such as countries and their borders do not register in her mind as anything but a name connected with a place. There are very few things that hold great importance for Cordellia, one of which being contracts. Any sort of contract is to be upheld. A promise is eternal. She has no sympathy for those who break their vows. They will either die a painful death, or live a painful life, depending on the degree of their crime. Cordellia is not merciful, nor particularly vengeful. The reason she will not let a contract breaker go unpunished is not because of personal revenge, but simply because that person is a criminal that has committed the worst sort of crime. Killing, theft, and the like are minor crimes in comparison. The only times she will act when these occur are when her most faithful servants request her to. Even then, her aid comes with a price. Cordellia rarely does anyone a favor for free. She will protect a Weaver, even one she does not know, in danger, but that is solely for the sake of upholding the old contract that was made between their two races. Whether or not that Weaver serves her or someone else, the contract was made as a race, and she will respect it as such. Otherwise, Cordellia treats weavers as she would any other 'lesser' race—indifferently. She, unlike most Royals, does not consider the Elves, as a race, enemies. The word 'enemy' is used rather loosely as someone she dislikes. It is quite the feat to get Cordellia to feel any way towards a person, so it is very rare that a Royal, not to mention an Elf, can be elevated to the title of 'enemy'. Enemies are hunted down and killed on sight. Cordellia respects other Royals, but hardly interacts with them. She has no known family, and so does not feel the need to stay with any Royal for a prolonged period of time. Cordellia's only companions are a few servants. She is rarely in the company of over a handful of people, not because she is uncomfortable around them, but simply because she does not recruit servants or try to find many companions. Those who follow her do so because they choose to. Cordellia could care less if she had two followers or ten thousand. All the races other than her own are the same to her, and all of them are accepted equally. The only exception is the Jesters, whose existence is not acknowledged by Cordellia. She avoids conflict for two reasons, one is that it is simplest that way, and the other because blood disgusts her. There is no particular reason for this, but an excess of blood strikes her as vulgar and distasteful. Therefore, if anyone needs to be killed or tortured, she usually entrusts it to her servants. Very rarely will Cordellia call for assistance from anyone she is not contracted with. She does not like being indebted---debt being another thing she takes very seriously. Those indebted to her, though, have more leniencies. The debtor is expected to repay his debts at some point, but that is not specified unless she calls upon him to repay it with a task she chooses. It is quite often, though, that she does not call, and instead the debtors repay her with other, more material things. Those that refuse to pay their debts when called upon are given the same treatment as those who break vows. Cordellia never strays from her values. Her emotional climate almost never changes and she thinks things through rationally, intelligently, and patiently. Her patience was once described by a former servant as 'tranquil', though that is not so. Cordellia can wait for years, for decades, seeming to do nothing but wander the world. But there is a tension inside her. There is something off. Her mind is calm, but not peaceful. There is dissatisfaction that Cordellia barely recognizes and cannot explain. Something is missing. But she will wait, and she will find it without needing to look. Everything eventually passes her by. Cordellia wanders, travelling with no real destination in mind. Only some people notice her presence. She doesn't stand out as much as many of her kindred. With a passing glance, from a passing stranger, she could be mistaken for any one of the races. Cordellia lacks horns, strange ears, or anything that usually distinguished Royals from other humanoid races. She has a strange sort of beauty that vaguely resembles Elf. However, it doesn't take too much before her heritage makes itself apparent. Cordellia has fairly long ebony hair that has a soft, strangely feathery texture and a fair complexion that seems to glow in dusky lighting. Her eyes are an unnatural shade of watery aquamarine, but her gaze is sharp and clear like cutting diamonds. Cordellia's voice is soft, but has a clear, almost haunting quality. Her voice is so unique that she does not need to speak loudly—most people just stop to listen. Cordellia is tall, but not imposingly so. She stands like a noble, but delicately so. She moves liltingly, like a feather in the breeze. She has a cold, ethereal grace. Despite her outer delicacy, Cordellia can move startlingly quickly when she wants to. Cordellia's gift is nothing obvious, nothing imposing, but it is as powerful as any other Royals'. She can influence people's minds. She can dull hunger, sorrow, and pain for an indefinite amount of time. She can sense and amplify emotions, redirect them, and make them vanish altogether. Of course, emotions never really go away, but they can be well sealed, well hidden. Cordellia can even alter memory, changing how people felt at certain times in their life or how they saw things. She can make them forget. She does not read thoughts, but can look into people's minds and sense the emotions as well as see images connected to those emotions. It is rare that she hears words with the images. Cordellia can use her power on a single person or hundreds people at a time. If she ever were to raise an army, it would be fearless, painless, and nearly unstoppable.

Alice Kingsley

ALICE KINGSLEY

Strength: 76

Speed: 42

Agility: 88

Accuracy: 54

Flexibility: 64

Stamina: 34

Luck: 22

Intellect: 75

Charisma: 43

Durability: 55

Stealth: 34

Alice Kingsley (Rebecca) was born in the Knight's Haven. Her mother's name was Karen. She had no last name. Her name was given to her by Alice's father, Aaron Kingsley. Karen had lived in one of the Elves' factories when Aaron let himself be captured and put in as well. He wasn't a Hacker, but a subordinate of a Hacker. Aaron was sent to figure out the workings of that factory and escape to report back a few months later. The entire factory's electricity was supposed to have been shut down with that information. But Aaron met Alice's mother. He fell in love. When she got pregnant was going to be sent to Amderarm, he knew he had to get her out. Aaron aborted the plan, risking everything to free Karen. He succeeded in helping her escape, but was caught. Alice's mother followed his directions to the rendez vous. The Hacker got his information and sent her to Knight Haven. A couple days later, the plan succeeded (sort of). Many humans managed to escape, but Aaron was not one of them. When Alice was young, her mother told her this story often. As she was growing up, Alice and her mother were treated fairly normally, with the exception of the few people who considered her father a failure who nearly compromised a mission for the sake of one woman and died of his stupidity, and those who considered her father a hero who helped a Hacker free many humans from captivity. But Alice didn't like either of those types of people. After all, other than her blood, she had nothing to do with her father. Her Aaron Kingsley may not have even been her blood father. Why should she, Alice, her own person, have to deal with her father's reputation? She had never met him! Alice grew up to be a stubborn girl, who preferred tinkering with mechanical toys and metals to shopping and hanging out with friends. Of course, if her friends wanted to try out her new jewelry or toys or build with her, they were welcome. She had a thing for colors—all her jewelry was beautiful and her friends loved the vibrancy of the colors. They wondered how she did it. To be honest, Alice wasn't quite sure. She just tried things out and kept going until they turned out how she wanted them to. If she had to pick a color for that time of her life, it would be a bright, sunshine yellow. Alice was a very happy child. That is, until her mother died when she was twelve. It was some sort of illness, and it wasn't just her mother. A few others in the Haven died that season as well, of the same illness. One of them was the adult she was closest to—the man that had taught her the basics of making and altering. That was when her hobby of making jewelry and altering mechanical toys turned into something… a little more dangerous. She started messing with weapons and continumerous. A couple of her friends tried to get her to stop, but Alice wouldn't. Not a month after her mother's death, she was trying to make continumerous bullets with her friend Rebecca—something she hadn't heard of. It exploded. Her neighbors managed to drag her out of the flaming wreckage of her home, but she was badly injured. Rebecca burned. To this day, she has scars, all over her body. After that incident, Alice was sent to learn more about the art of creating and changing. They did not try to stop her—after all, she had potential to be a real asset—but she was warned that if it happened again, she would not get off as easily. If she had to pick a color for her mother's death, it would be a dusky blue, dark and almost drained of its color. But upon her apprenticeship to a mechanic, it turned to an orange the color of a burnt sunset, if sunsets could burn. Alice thought, why not? Now she could create as she pleased. Her sadness turned to anger. She could immerse herself in her work. She was so filled with anger and hatred, she would sometimes work for days without sleep. She lost touch with her friends. At times, Alice wondered what she hated so much, why she was so angry, but thinking about it too much just hurt. So she stopped thinking. Alice became irritable and short tempered. When she wasn't working, her hands moved impatiently. She could never stop moving. Her mentor tried to convince her to take therapy, but she didn't want to. She couldn't. Her weapons and computers were all that mattered. Her mentor kicked her out of his workshop, confiscating all her materials, everything she had worked on for the past two years. She snapped. The world was red. She set the workplace on fire. Alice left. She ran. She ran until her legs felt like led and her lungs shook and screamed with each breath. Then she ran some more. She travelled alone for months, not sure where she was going. She didn't care. Alice simply survived. Everything was white, blank. Her anger was drained by fatigue and cold sucked away the heat of her hatred. Then she stumbled upon the Sao Haven. Alice called herself Rebecca. She started a new life. Now, at 16 years old, she still struggles with her identity. Traces of her anger remain, but most of it was exhausted. She now makes jewelry for a living. She doesn't touch weapons, afraid her anger will return. The people at Sao Haven can tell something is off about her. The hard look in her eyes does not match her seemingly quiet nature. Alice hides her ability to do more than set stones and make bracelets. Gradually, her personality is returning. Her determination and stubbornness is showing itself. She is becoming more willing to talk. Her fire is starting to return. Robin's egg blue. She is becoming more comfortable. She is healing. But she still has her walls up. After all, it won't be long before someone she knew from Knight's Haven comes to Sao Haven and finds out about her. What will happen then? She was an arsonist. She was insane. Wasn't she? It wouldn't take much for them to figure out that "Alice Kingsley" was "Rebecca Frost". She wants to find herself again, but is afraid to turn into what she was before. What if it happened again? Alice is defensive and refuses any sort of help. Robin's egg blue, stained with streaks of dark crimson. Alice has sometimes wondered why she thought of colors like that. Maybe it was born into her with her heterochromatic eyes. After all, it wasn't common to have one eye the color of the summer sky and another a deep shade of forest green. Her hair was another vibrant color, like a river of gold that flowed down to her shoulder. It was pinned over half her forehead, covering the thin web of shrapnel scars. Her skin was fairly blemish free, if her scars aren't included. Alice had protected most of her face with her arms, but everywhere else on the front of her body was marred. Most people couldn't tell because she always wore long clothing and gloves. Alice is fairly short, an inch or two from 5 feet, made worse by her months not finding enough food and the years of overwork making her seem scrawny. Despite this, her years of work have also made her fairly strong, if not average. Alice does not have a dream. She is afraid of losing herself again, but he has come to the realization that you can't lose something you don't have. So she waits. She waits for herself to return.