12-31-2014, 01:57 PM
Character Name: Caira Ayryn
(Kaī-rāh Eye-rīn)
Character source: Within the silhouette of a dying universe, there was a light..
Original
Character History
[spoiler]Here is a rendition of her past:
Destruction is Upon You..
Caira’s story really began, when a blade met her neck on the night of the twenty-fifth hour. To recount how all this came to be, there is a single witness, Arbis, an honorable monk whom serves his home community also known as the Core. A few days prior, while meditating, he received a warning that a brigade of meteors that would decimate the Core. Arbis went on a vigil for a week straight, seeking an answer to the question in which all of the council had pondered How are we to be saved?
A meeting would be held for the councilmen to gather, so they could discuss a means of evacuation and survival but it was a desperate fallacy in the place of inherent, forlorn hope. After all, if a civilization is unable to cope, defend, and let alone survive, an ineluctable threat tumbling toward them from space at a ravenous speed, how could they to continue to function as an elite society when imminent death is upon them?
Not twenty five hours before, the first meteorite (of many) had befallen the township, a strident wave of thunder reverberated in the sky whence suddenly, a collision that engendered a wincing impact upon the earth followed by a stentorian cry, at it’s source, an infant.
As Arbis neared the wreckage it became clear that what had apparently befallen in the shape of a star was alive. However the interloper, did not seem to be physically harmed, it was as though the child was perhaps sent on this path or had gone astray from its own. The only remnant of its past still extant, happened to be around her neck. With a name listed, Caira.
“Surely it is but a sign!” One monk proclaimed, all eyes fell on Arbis, expecting his jurisdiction to provide ultimate approval or inevitable condemnation.
Arbis however, offered no exposition, despite being slightly flummoxed as to how the child had been delivered to the exact temple he had just spent vigil in for seven days. He then ventured his way to the meeting of elders, the preceding council was to discuss the epidemic of destruction that would soon befall them.
As the meeting prolonged, the highest elder protested, “This child was sent to obliterate us all!” he was surely convinced that she was the harbinger of the Core’s undoing.
“Surely she represents the infinite potential of our community’s fate, in this form, as a child. . . Perhaps she is the sign we will survive and prosper, as a Phoenix regrows itself from ash.” Arbis announced.
“We must kill it! Destroy it,” he claimed to the other elders of the council.
“You are talking about an innocent child!” One chided.
“Or the fate of the Core!” Another provoked.
“Now now, there’s no proof this child has done anything to deserve execution...” Another of the council offered.
And so it went, the deliberation and debate over a single child’s life continued, while the time dwindled and the whole community was at stake. The decision was made, the council ruled 4-3 and allowed twenty- four hours before killing her, justified by becoming a sacrifice for the Core and for every-being’s protection. If the threat did not cease she would be sentenced to death. Meanwhile, there was no established plan to evacuate the Core, because there was no place to run to, this meant a nil chance of survival for all. It was on the twenty fifth hour the attack was expected, yet so much had been left unsaid. This timing left an hour to commit the execution before destruction became them all.
Arbis returned to the monastery which was all he had ever known but on this day, in his withered arms, he held an infant. His wrinkles showing his seniority contrasting with the youth’s smooth vitality. Doomsday had come, and the council representing millions of lives, had fought over the fate of a single child; even he had no way to know whether she would prove to be the bringer of destruction or if he was holding their savior.
As the twenty-fourth hour neared, citizens of the Core awaited their own destruction. To them, there was no escaping the sky. Their actions revolved between making peace and creating chaos. When the twenty third hour passed, Arbis was to choose between offering up the baby’s life to the council, or to abscond with her, perhaps becoming the Core’s inexorable destruction. He could no longer tell choice from fate, but he was persuaded by a particular connection, a bond he had made with the child, one that convinced him of the power of hope.
When the time came, he neither decamped nor forfeited her, while instead he ensconced Caira and therefore the council sent a mercenary willing to kill the child and havoc was wrought upon the monastery, but despite the esurient raid, there were no casualties. As the hunt protracted, time leaked and as one destiny was averted and fate itself seemed to be avenged. Was the child’s life truly saved if the world came to an end around her? What good would another death do? Arbis was inclined to provide the child with safety, despite its position as the community’s scapegoat or perhaps because of this; perhaps the child would survive to carry on the Core’s legacy (after it had survived a fall from the stars) and become the lone survivor.
Time dwindled and alas the hunter discovered the hidden child covered in the rubble that her own crash-landing had created. The moment his sword went to her neck, with intent to eviscerate the child, chimes marking the twenty-fifth hour swamped the township. The mercenary stopped, narrowing his eyes at the purple eyed humanoid, and at the end of the peal, the sky shook. The baby did not seem to be the cause, and yet, the sky began to fall, in the form of a great legion of meteorites.
The light of the stars in the night could not be seen through the shadows cast by the boulders plunging toward the Core’s vast city and populace. At this moment, Caira reached her diminutive fingers to the sky, and as though directing a mighty force, a web of destruction pierced every mineral hanging above them, its beam lit up the night, with a striking flash it appeared and disappeared in the form of white lightning.
Crumbs of aftermath and disbelief were all that remained. Dust much like ash lightly sprinkled over the whole town, they marveled at the sight of the anomalous miracle that had occurred. But while the Core was saved, the child appeared lifeless, the hue of purple had faded from her eyes, and they became an exanimate gray. While she still breathed, the light of her being had dimmed, so much so, that her breath came once every five minutes. In response the mercenary, whose expression had changed from stricken awe as he observed the power in the sky, to despair seeing the child’s lifelessness, so much was he moved that he knelt and wept before all the monks and survivors.
“Your own man bears witness!” Arbis proclaimed to the council, the mercenary stood on Arbis’s right.
“Now we must, yet again, decide this child’s fate.” Discussion had moved to the council, while Caira, whom had passably recovered from the trauma, slept in front of the council, covered in ash and chilled embers.
“Recognizing she saved the Core, and more threats like this may occur, she shall be raised with you Arbis in your monastery, as her guardian, and in hope a greater sense of justice shall be instilled. You, who wanted her alive shall teach her of peace and You-highest Elder- who desired her death, shall teach her of war. This shall engender in the child a lesson of the true balance of justice.”
“The Mercenary too, voiced his desire to assist teaching her, to recompense the debt he feels is owed.”
“This shall be permitted, if he is willing to become a cenobite.” The mercenary had decided to give his own life to the child whom had saved their lives but whom his judgement of, had been a fallacy, the masquerade he had been tricked into believing, by the highest Elder himself. Over the years, resolute evolution in the Core progressed, and survival allowed the community to prosper marvelously.
And so the youth grew up with: the great knowledge of monks willing to maintain peace in times of indefinite war; the justice of a person who valued peace and prosperity of a community more than all else; the teachings of how to meditate and control her power, by one who had sacrificed all of his to exonerate his own honor, Caira was raised with the truth and as the orphan she was.[/spoiler]
[spoiler](... A continued backstory)
“But I don’t have a last name?” Caira inquired at the age of twelve, to her master Arbis. “If you like, you may create one for yourself,” he offered, hoping she would recognize she was unlike any other.
“What if I were to take your last name?” As the words left her lips she knew it was against monk teachings to take what was not her own and felt a flash of heat on her cheeks.
“Create one for yourself,” he commanded without a second thought.
“I think, I’ll help others like me create their own names,” Caira pondered with the thoughts still of a naive child, and began to build an orphanage. She had many tales to tell after this, adventures only increased with her age, and there seemed to be many more threats to protect the people from. Demons and dragons from the depths of destruction seemed to reign upon the land testing her abilities further. Once, Caira encountered a large egg and acquired a strange imprint after it had hatched. The cat-like creature that had been inside disappeared but it left a two inch circular mark on her right shoulder that was etched in ink but remained as though it were a tattoo. This disgruntled Caira, whom had already named the egg ‘Kenzu’ after the mercenary whom had lost his life to protect Caira during a quest. An honorably committed companion, she had wished the cat-like creature had remained, so that he would always be with her. Yet, perhaps symbolically, only the circle remained.
...
By age seventeen she had taught the orphans and recruited a whole staff for their care when she was away on commission. Every night she was able, she left the monastery to tell the children a story to help them sleep at night.
Caira pointed her index finger upward, and a small shaded orb protruded a shadowy light, in which fire-like pictures seemed to be etched, as she told the story the children marveled in awe at the motion of the picture on the sphere above her finger.
“What’s inside the sphere?” Inquired the youngest boy one night whom was fascinated by her abilities.
This was a question even she did not know the answer to, so she always offered one that was based on the child’s imagination.
“But you’re not like us,” he said in a serious tone, “Not an orphan in the same way we are, you have parents from another world, you have the monks and a purpose. . . We have our teachers and townsfolk, you aren’t of this world, doesn’t that scare you?”
“Fear is a funny thing,” She pat his head, “If you are afraid of the unknown, much like the dark, how can you say, when the lights go out, it won’t become you?”
The light flickered as he held out four fingers to create a dark shadow.
“I don’t think I get you?”
“Ah, well there isn’t knowledge about my world in this one, so I suppose, the unknown is infinite, as are the possibilities and circumstances of my past. That means I basically could range from the best of the best or the worst of the worst and never know the latter.”
“What’s to protect us from the unknown?”
“Ah, that’s my job. Aren’t I to become the town’s top guard?”
And this was indeed to be her fate, as any adversary that came to purloin the riches of the Core, was met with Caira (as she was growing up), which only enhanced her training regime and allowed her to adequately hone her skills. That is, until something came that she perhaps, could not protect them from.
“Again? Just like the ones from just under two decades ago?” The aged highest elder proclaimed with a snide glance to his predecessor, Caira.
“It was foreseen three nigh’ ago.” One of the monks said.
“When will this happen?”
“We weren’t given a time.” The monk shook his head. As soon as he said that, the sky once again shook just as it had all those years ago many ran outside to assess the threat.
“We still may be helpless against this threat.” Arbis admitted to Caira, knowing the extent of her power, and its limits.
Caira had met his gaze with an insistent frown, “You know that I will do what it takes, no matter the consequence.” Her tone expounded the seriousness of her maturity.
It was only when Caira was in the air, darting from objects and gliding upward, did she notice the rocks had a purple hue, it was as though they were bewitched and were invulnerable to her power. Within seconds she felt the greatest despair of powerlessness. With great agility she dodged and bounced from one astroid to the next, climbing in altitude. Her eyes glinted with determination under the moonlight, she would protect the kids no matter what.
Suddenly, Caira was struck with something, a bolt of tremendous energy that left her body with a strange and distant warmth, she was rendered unconscious, but before she began to fall, through the closing of her eyes she saw her hand reach out and a dark sphere of power absorb the fleet of meteors that threatened all that she had grown to love. The space rock seemed to be absorbed in the sky, and she too, seemed to fall into the darkness.[/spoiler]
Physical Description: Unlike native humanoids in her adopted home-verse, Caira has a incongruous shade of purple eyes, that shine under particular light, or the iris’s hue can sometimes protrude in darkness, or glow intensely within a shadow. They are a barometer of her strength as they fade from the utmost of color when her energy has expired, into a shade of dimmed yet luminous silver.
Her figure, at 5’7’’, is tall and slender, and her black hair rolls past her shoulders. She has very pale skin and somewhat pronounced cheekbones. She conveys herself in such a fashion that alludes to an inner untapped maturity. Despite any grimace she may put on during battle, her expression is usually soft and rests in a glow of emanated peace. Caira is in her late teens. With what appears to be an ectomorphic build as her lost humanoid race is identified with, it hides the capacity of detectable strength or potential and acts as a camouflage to mask any potential strength as an adversary.
Her style is a WIP because of plot reasons (STC).
Personality: She is a perspicacious individual, whom never lacks courage, and usually has an optimistic comportment. Some downsides: she is cynical to an extent, and has congenial tendencies. This can limit the amount of trust she shares with others. And effect team missions or perhaps even the most fundamental and rudimentary reliability.
Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 3
SPD:1
TEC:2
Starting Proficiencies:
Ranged Proficiency (1000 om)
Physical Proficiency (1,000 om)
Basic Jump (300)
Starting Moves:
Eclipse (Energy Blast) (300 OM)
Imagine an eclipse, now imagine it being held in a person’s hand. Holdable, tangible, dominant energy that can grow when charged. Surrounding the dark sphere of energy is a faint glimmer of pale light.
The energy blast acts as a sort of cannon, with a rupture of impact. As the size of the orb is around 6” and is a strong condensed form of energy that takes a minute to a minute and a half to fully charge. While charging the user can move but throughout the duration of the charge, must hold their breath. While aiming, in order to be precise, the user is unable to make a rapid movement or else the energy can become off-balanced or askew and basically blow up in her face before it has a chance to deploy.
The user has a balanced and square stance as the blast is launched, the ball of energy departs from her palms held out in front of her and blasts with an ecstatic speed(throughout the duration she aims and concentrates fully despite when her lungs scream for air). The sphere of energy itself appears to revolve, propelling itself forward and perpetuating its own momentum. Upon impact with a foe, the energy blast does crushing and lethal damage as it detonates with an impaling strength.
The user takes a grateful breath and feels a sense of fatigue instill upon her joints, a tiring process, but while the effects remain, so does the damage done. (300 OM)
_Used om 2,600_
I confirm that I have knowingly read and agreed to the rules of conduct
(Kaī-rāh Eye-rīn)
Character source: Within the silhouette of a dying universe, there was a light..
Original
Character History
[spoiler]Here is a rendition of her past:
Destruction is Upon You..
Caira’s story really began, when a blade met her neck on the night of the twenty-fifth hour. To recount how all this came to be, there is a single witness, Arbis, an honorable monk whom serves his home community also known as the Core. A few days prior, while meditating, he received a warning that a brigade of meteors that would decimate the Core. Arbis went on a vigil for a week straight, seeking an answer to the question in which all of the council had pondered How are we to be saved?
A meeting would be held for the councilmen to gather, so they could discuss a means of evacuation and survival but it was a desperate fallacy in the place of inherent, forlorn hope. After all, if a civilization is unable to cope, defend, and let alone survive, an ineluctable threat tumbling toward them from space at a ravenous speed, how could they to continue to function as an elite society when imminent death is upon them?
Not twenty five hours before, the first meteorite (of many) had befallen the township, a strident wave of thunder reverberated in the sky whence suddenly, a collision that engendered a wincing impact upon the earth followed by a stentorian cry, at it’s source, an infant.
As Arbis neared the wreckage it became clear that what had apparently befallen in the shape of a star was alive. However the interloper, did not seem to be physically harmed, it was as though the child was perhaps sent on this path or had gone astray from its own. The only remnant of its past still extant, happened to be around her neck. With a name listed, Caira.
“Surely it is but a sign!” One monk proclaimed, all eyes fell on Arbis, expecting his jurisdiction to provide ultimate approval or inevitable condemnation.
Arbis however, offered no exposition, despite being slightly flummoxed as to how the child had been delivered to the exact temple he had just spent vigil in for seven days. He then ventured his way to the meeting of elders, the preceding council was to discuss the epidemic of destruction that would soon befall them.
As the meeting prolonged, the highest elder protested, “This child was sent to obliterate us all!” he was surely convinced that she was the harbinger of the Core’s undoing.
“Surely she represents the infinite potential of our community’s fate, in this form, as a child. . . Perhaps she is the sign we will survive and prosper, as a Phoenix regrows itself from ash.” Arbis announced.
“We must kill it! Destroy it,” he claimed to the other elders of the council.
“You are talking about an innocent child!” One chided.
“Or the fate of the Core!” Another provoked.
“Now now, there’s no proof this child has done anything to deserve execution...” Another of the council offered.
And so it went, the deliberation and debate over a single child’s life continued, while the time dwindled and the whole community was at stake. The decision was made, the council ruled 4-3 and allowed twenty- four hours before killing her, justified by becoming a sacrifice for the Core and for every-being’s protection. If the threat did not cease she would be sentenced to death. Meanwhile, there was no established plan to evacuate the Core, because there was no place to run to, this meant a nil chance of survival for all. It was on the twenty fifth hour the attack was expected, yet so much had been left unsaid. This timing left an hour to commit the execution before destruction became them all.
Arbis returned to the monastery which was all he had ever known but on this day, in his withered arms, he held an infant. His wrinkles showing his seniority contrasting with the youth’s smooth vitality. Doomsday had come, and the council representing millions of lives, had fought over the fate of a single child; even he had no way to know whether she would prove to be the bringer of destruction or if he was holding their savior.
As the twenty-fourth hour neared, citizens of the Core awaited their own destruction. To them, there was no escaping the sky. Their actions revolved between making peace and creating chaos. When the twenty third hour passed, Arbis was to choose between offering up the baby’s life to the council, or to abscond with her, perhaps becoming the Core’s inexorable destruction. He could no longer tell choice from fate, but he was persuaded by a particular connection, a bond he had made with the child, one that convinced him of the power of hope.
When the time came, he neither decamped nor forfeited her, while instead he ensconced Caira and therefore the council sent a mercenary willing to kill the child and havoc was wrought upon the monastery, but despite the esurient raid, there were no casualties. As the hunt protracted, time leaked and as one destiny was averted and fate itself seemed to be avenged. Was the child’s life truly saved if the world came to an end around her? What good would another death do? Arbis was inclined to provide the child with safety, despite its position as the community’s scapegoat or perhaps because of this; perhaps the child would survive to carry on the Core’s legacy (after it had survived a fall from the stars) and become the lone survivor.
Time dwindled and alas the hunter discovered the hidden child covered in the rubble that her own crash-landing had created. The moment his sword went to her neck, with intent to eviscerate the child, chimes marking the twenty-fifth hour swamped the township. The mercenary stopped, narrowing his eyes at the purple eyed humanoid, and at the end of the peal, the sky shook. The baby did not seem to be the cause, and yet, the sky began to fall, in the form of a great legion of meteorites.
The light of the stars in the night could not be seen through the shadows cast by the boulders plunging toward the Core’s vast city and populace. At this moment, Caira reached her diminutive fingers to the sky, and as though directing a mighty force, a web of destruction pierced every mineral hanging above them, its beam lit up the night, with a striking flash it appeared and disappeared in the form of white lightning.
Crumbs of aftermath and disbelief were all that remained. Dust much like ash lightly sprinkled over the whole town, they marveled at the sight of the anomalous miracle that had occurred. But while the Core was saved, the child appeared lifeless, the hue of purple had faded from her eyes, and they became an exanimate gray. While she still breathed, the light of her being had dimmed, so much so, that her breath came once every five minutes. In response the mercenary, whose expression had changed from stricken awe as he observed the power in the sky, to despair seeing the child’s lifelessness, so much was he moved that he knelt and wept before all the monks and survivors.
“Your own man bears witness!” Arbis proclaimed to the council, the mercenary stood on Arbis’s right.
“Now we must, yet again, decide this child’s fate.” Discussion had moved to the council, while Caira, whom had passably recovered from the trauma, slept in front of the council, covered in ash and chilled embers.
“Recognizing she saved the Core, and more threats like this may occur, she shall be raised with you Arbis in your monastery, as her guardian, and in hope a greater sense of justice shall be instilled. You, who wanted her alive shall teach her of peace and You-highest Elder- who desired her death, shall teach her of war. This shall engender in the child a lesson of the true balance of justice.”
“The Mercenary too, voiced his desire to assist teaching her, to recompense the debt he feels is owed.”
“This shall be permitted, if he is willing to become a cenobite.” The mercenary had decided to give his own life to the child whom had saved their lives but whom his judgement of, had been a fallacy, the masquerade he had been tricked into believing, by the highest Elder himself. Over the years, resolute evolution in the Core progressed, and survival allowed the community to prosper marvelously.
And so the youth grew up with: the great knowledge of monks willing to maintain peace in times of indefinite war; the justice of a person who valued peace and prosperity of a community more than all else; the teachings of how to meditate and control her power, by one who had sacrificed all of his to exonerate his own honor, Caira was raised with the truth and as the orphan she was.[/spoiler]
[spoiler](... A continued backstory)
“But I don’t have a last name?” Caira inquired at the age of twelve, to her master Arbis. “If you like, you may create one for yourself,” he offered, hoping she would recognize she was unlike any other.
“What if I were to take your last name?” As the words left her lips she knew it was against monk teachings to take what was not her own and felt a flash of heat on her cheeks.
“Create one for yourself,” he commanded without a second thought.
“I think, I’ll help others like me create their own names,” Caira pondered with the thoughts still of a naive child, and began to build an orphanage. She had many tales to tell after this, adventures only increased with her age, and there seemed to be many more threats to protect the people from. Demons and dragons from the depths of destruction seemed to reign upon the land testing her abilities further. Once, Caira encountered a large egg and acquired a strange imprint after it had hatched. The cat-like creature that had been inside disappeared but it left a two inch circular mark on her right shoulder that was etched in ink but remained as though it were a tattoo. This disgruntled Caira, whom had already named the egg ‘Kenzu’ after the mercenary whom had lost his life to protect Caira during a quest. An honorably committed companion, she had wished the cat-like creature had remained, so that he would always be with her. Yet, perhaps symbolically, only the circle remained.
...
By age seventeen she had taught the orphans and recruited a whole staff for their care when she was away on commission. Every night she was able, she left the monastery to tell the children a story to help them sleep at night.
Caira pointed her index finger upward, and a small shaded orb protruded a shadowy light, in which fire-like pictures seemed to be etched, as she told the story the children marveled in awe at the motion of the picture on the sphere above her finger.
“What’s inside the sphere?” Inquired the youngest boy one night whom was fascinated by her abilities.
This was a question even she did not know the answer to, so she always offered one that was based on the child’s imagination.
“But you’re not like us,” he said in a serious tone, “Not an orphan in the same way we are, you have parents from another world, you have the monks and a purpose. . . We have our teachers and townsfolk, you aren’t of this world, doesn’t that scare you?”
“Fear is a funny thing,” She pat his head, “If you are afraid of the unknown, much like the dark, how can you say, when the lights go out, it won’t become you?”
The light flickered as he held out four fingers to create a dark shadow.
“I don’t think I get you?”
“Ah, well there isn’t knowledge about my world in this one, so I suppose, the unknown is infinite, as are the possibilities and circumstances of my past. That means I basically could range from the best of the best or the worst of the worst and never know the latter.”
“What’s to protect us from the unknown?”
“Ah, that’s my job. Aren’t I to become the town’s top guard?”
And this was indeed to be her fate, as any adversary that came to purloin the riches of the Core, was met with Caira (as she was growing up), which only enhanced her training regime and allowed her to adequately hone her skills. That is, until something came that she perhaps, could not protect them from.
“Again? Just like the ones from just under two decades ago?” The aged highest elder proclaimed with a snide glance to his predecessor, Caira.
“It was foreseen three nigh’ ago.” One of the monks said.
“When will this happen?”
“We weren’t given a time.” The monk shook his head. As soon as he said that, the sky once again shook just as it had all those years ago many ran outside to assess the threat.
“We still may be helpless against this threat.” Arbis admitted to Caira, knowing the extent of her power, and its limits.
Caira had met his gaze with an insistent frown, “You know that I will do what it takes, no matter the consequence.” Her tone expounded the seriousness of her maturity.
It was only when Caira was in the air, darting from objects and gliding upward, did she notice the rocks had a purple hue, it was as though they were bewitched and were invulnerable to her power. Within seconds she felt the greatest despair of powerlessness. With great agility she dodged and bounced from one astroid to the next, climbing in altitude. Her eyes glinted with determination under the moonlight, she would protect the kids no matter what.
Suddenly, Caira was struck with something, a bolt of tremendous energy that left her body with a strange and distant warmth, she was rendered unconscious, but before she began to fall, through the closing of her eyes she saw her hand reach out and a dark sphere of power absorb the fleet of meteors that threatened all that she had grown to love. The space rock seemed to be absorbed in the sky, and she too, seemed to fall into the darkness.[/spoiler]
Physical Description: Unlike native humanoids in her adopted home-verse, Caira has a incongruous shade of purple eyes, that shine under particular light, or the iris’s hue can sometimes protrude in darkness, or glow intensely within a shadow. They are a barometer of her strength as they fade from the utmost of color when her energy has expired, into a shade of dimmed yet luminous silver.
Her figure, at 5’7’’, is tall and slender, and her black hair rolls past her shoulders. She has very pale skin and somewhat pronounced cheekbones. She conveys herself in such a fashion that alludes to an inner untapped maturity. Despite any grimace she may put on during battle, her expression is usually soft and rests in a glow of emanated peace. Caira is in her late teens. With what appears to be an ectomorphic build as her lost humanoid race is identified with, it hides the capacity of detectable strength or potential and acts as a camouflage to mask any potential strength as an adversary.
Her style is a WIP because of plot reasons (STC).
Personality: She is a perspicacious individual, whom never lacks courage, and usually has an optimistic comportment. Some downsides: she is cynical to an extent, and has congenial tendencies. This can limit the amount of trust she shares with others. And effect team missions or perhaps even the most fundamental and rudimentary reliability.
Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 3
SPD:1
TEC:2
Starting Proficiencies:
Ranged Proficiency (1000 om)
Physical Proficiency (1,000 om)
Basic Jump (300)
Starting Moves:
Eclipse (Energy Blast) (300 OM)
Imagine an eclipse, now imagine it being held in a person’s hand. Holdable, tangible, dominant energy that can grow when charged. Surrounding the dark sphere of energy is a faint glimmer of pale light.
The energy blast acts as a sort of cannon, with a rupture of impact. As the size of the orb is around 6” and is a strong condensed form of energy that takes a minute to a minute and a half to fully charge. While charging the user can move but throughout the duration of the charge, must hold their breath. While aiming, in order to be precise, the user is unable to make a rapid movement or else the energy can become off-balanced or askew and basically blow up in her face before it has a chance to deploy.
The user has a balanced and square stance as the blast is launched, the ball of energy departs from her palms held out in front of her and blasts with an ecstatic speed(throughout the duration she aims and concentrates fully despite when her lungs scream for air). The sphere of energy itself appears to revolve, propelling itself forward and perpetuating its own momentum. Upon impact with a foe, the energy blast does crushing and lethal damage as it detonates with an impaling strength.
The user takes a grateful breath and feels a sense of fatigue instill upon her joints, a tiring process, but while the effects remain, so does the damage done. (300 OM)
_Used om 2,600_
I confirm that I have knowingly read and agreed to the rules of conduct
![[Image: mqdefault.jpg]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/yEac52Ck_1A/mqdefault.jpg)
![[Image: SarahKerrigan_sig199_zpswcfeq7fe.png]](http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/missfinefeather/SarahKerrigan_sig199_zpswcfeq7fe.png)