The Vampire Earth - Post Apoc/Sci-fi - Interest Thread
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Yes, apologies for the delay. I've been going through a period of...uninspiration lately. I'll try to get it up soon.
Thought I'd come up with a character with a backstory focusing on the social impact of having hunter ancestry as well as the risks and downsides. GM's discretion over enhancements to strength and regeneration would be useful (if any).
Name: Regan McMahon
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Caste: Bear
Appearance: White hair kept in a ponytail with bangs. Heavily scarred from a Reaper encounter before joining the bear caste. More muscular and taller than average. Has slightly more of an 'animalistic' appearance compared to most bears, and her eyes appear almost totally black.
Personality: Became an initiate due to a desire to protect others, despite the great personal risk to herself. Fairly serious, sometimes stubborn and overprotective. Constantly tries to surpress her tendancy to anger and remains calm in all but the most stressful situations. Has interited a zealous hatred of the Kurians from her family, further fuelled by events during her lifetime. She's also self-concious about not looking particularly 'feminine',although this issue tends to crop a lot more often up when dealing with non-bear social circles after her transformation.
Gear (Weapons/misc): Specialises in hand to hand combat.
Clothing/Armour: Dresses practically for combat, forgoing armour for freedom or movement, but with a slight 'Goth' style to it as a nod to her family of self-proclaimed 'freaky alien vampire humters' and to create an intimidating appearance.
Bio/History:
Regan's family has a history line of bear initiates (with a bit of a polar bear look about them), but recently the complications of this became widely known. Whilst protecting a village from reapers, her uncle (a recently initiated 2nd generation bear) completely and permanantly lost control whilst 'going red', wipeing out friend and foe alike before he was eliminated by a Southern Command contingent alerted to the massacre.
After this tragic event the McMahon's wishing to join the bear caste now tend either start families early (i.e. before initiation) or forgo having kids altogether. As the youngest sibling (and the only one too young for initiation at the time), her father decided carry on the family tradition as a straightforward 'normal' soldier, a decision that was fully supported in ligght of recent events.
Regan originally wasn't sure about becoming a bear initiate, her soul-searching over the matter delaying her desicion, but after the death of her boyfriend (and soon to be fiancee) during a raid organised by the Kurians(only narrowly surviving herself due to the trace healing factor from her fathers side), she decided to dedicate her life to protecting others, hoping to find solace in the lives she saved.
Even though she has half the amount of 'bear blood', she often worries about suffering the same fate as her uncle. She took up martial arts in the lead up to her initiation, the level of disipline and concentration involved in her chosen combat style allowing her to keep her rage in check, maintaining a kind of 'tranquil fury' on the battlefield. She also secretly hopes that by avoiding weapons and requiring finnesse whilst fighting she can limit the damage she would do should she 'lose it'. She also, going from the experience of some of her other bear caste relatives, is estimated to have a much lower life expectancy, with many of the '2nd genners' counting themselves lucky to hit 50.
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Caste: Bear
Appearance: White hair kept in a ponytail with bangs. Heavily scarred from a Reaper encounter before joining the bear caste. More muscular and taller than average. Has slightly more of an 'animalistic' appearance compared to most bears, and her eyes appear almost totally black.
Personality: Became an initiate due to a desire to protect others, despite the great personal risk to herself. Fairly serious, sometimes stubborn and overprotective. Constantly tries to surpress her tendancy to anger and remains calm in all but the most stressful situations. Has interited a zealous hatred of the Kurians from her family, further fuelled by events during her lifetime. She's also self-concious about not looking particularly 'feminine',although this issue tends to crop a lot more often up when dealing with non-bear social circles after her transformation.
Gear (Weapons/misc): Specialises in hand to hand combat.
Clothing/Armour: Dresses practically for combat, forgoing armour for freedom or movement, but with a slight 'Goth' style to it as a nod to her family of self-proclaimed 'freaky alien vampire humters' and to create an intimidating appearance.
Bio/History:
Regan's family has a history line of bear initiates (with a bit of a polar bear look about them), but recently the complications of this became widely known. Whilst protecting a village from reapers, her uncle (a recently initiated 2nd generation bear) completely and permanantly lost control whilst 'going red', wipeing out friend and foe alike before he was eliminated by a Southern Command contingent alerted to the massacre.
After this tragic event the McMahon's wishing to join the bear caste now tend either start families early (i.e. before initiation) or forgo having kids altogether. As the youngest sibling (and the only one too young for initiation at the time), her father decided carry on the family tradition as a straightforward 'normal' soldier, a decision that was fully supported in ligght of recent events.
Regan originally wasn't sure about becoming a bear initiate, her soul-searching over the matter delaying her desicion, but after the death of her boyfriend (and soon to be fiancee) during a raid organised by the Kurians(only narrowly surviving herself due to the trace healing factor from her fathers side), she decided to dedicate her life to protecting others, hoping to find solace in the lives she saved.
Even though she has half the amount of 'bear blood', she often worries about suffering the same fate as her uncle. She took up martial arts in the lead up to her initiation, the level of disipline and concentration involved in her chosen combat style allowing her to keep her rage in check, maintaining a kind of 'tranquil fury' on the battlefield. She also secretly hopes that by avoiding weapons and requiring finnesse whilst fighting she can limit the damage she would do should she 'lose it'. She also, going from the experience of some of her other bear caste relatives, is estimated to have a much lower life expectancy, with many of the '2nd genners' counting themselves lucky to hit 50.
Apologies for the delay.
And now, I await your judgement.
And now, I await your judgement.
Name: Yuriy Solovyev
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Caste: Bear
Appearance: 7'2" very broad frame and very muscular build. He has a light complexion, having a mild tan. His left eye is dark blue, the right being grey and foggy, appearing to be dead and accompanied by a long scar running from the top of his brow to his jaw. The damaged eye is fully functional due to the effects of the Lifeweavers' powers, though it hadn't done much in the way of bringing color back to the revived tissue. He has thick brown hair that he keeps short and cropped atop head and prefers to remain clean shaven.
Personality: As always, Yuriy has been light-hearted and generally good-natured as a result of his upbringing, at least when he's not in a warring mood. However, when he builds an appetite for fighting, it's as if a switch was flipped somewhere inside of him. He becomes like stone - cold, nearly void of emotion. He becomes a calculating, merciless, brutal individual with the desire to crush his foes in every sense of the word.
Gear (Weapons/misc): When one sees Yuriy battle-ready, it becomes evident he would not be fit for superior speed or agility, for the weight he bears is truly one to behold. His pride and joy is his Yak-B 12.7mm machine gun he's improvised for hand-firing. On the fore-end of his weapon's frame is a handle, which he holds with his left arm, that had been fastened on to provide stability while working the firing mechanism on the rear. To lessen the burden of carrying ammunition in a box attatched to the gun, he's fashioned a feeding belt that delivers cartridges from the easy-to-remove box on his back to the firing chamber. The necessary tweaks to the weapon have come with a great sacrifice in its firing speed, bringing it to around 300 rounds per minute.
When his ammo is expended for his prize gun or he needs to drop it for whatever reason, he resorts to his OTs-62 12 Gauge Service Revolver Shotgun and sheer brute force. He keeps his hand-cannon holstered to his right hip and a belt full of solid steel slug ammunition around his waist.
Clothing/Armour: He is usually seen wearing polyester shirts and a black, rugged leather jacket with dark jeans and black mountain boots. He also favors wearing a Luzhkov's-style leather cap when he isn't fully geared up.
When he's fully armored, he wears thick steel plates he's fashioned into various pieces of gear. Heavy pauldrons of riveted steel guard his shoulders, and his arms are also shielded with thick plating. His left arm-guard differs from the right with the sleeve having the addition of a rounded neck guard jutting up from the top of the shoulder, as well as an attatched cestus guarding the top of his hand. The cestus is heavily riveted, allowing him to use the exposed studs as an aid in his batterings. A thick cuirass keeps his torso shielded from many blows, his neck protected with a raised steel guard on the upper back, as well as some of his lower body with the attatched thigh and groin guards. The most protected areas of his body are all above the waist, especially his head. He wears a makeshift Soviet SSH-40 helmet firmly strapped over to his head and to protect his face, he's made himself a steel mask that he keeps secured just as well.
Bio/History: Yuriy grew up a refugee in a small camp in the forests of Illinois, near the fringes of Southern Command. Orignally, the settlers were part of a larger group of resistance fighters gathering to join those in the rumored free territory. They had started this journey from the east coast and had miraculously made a great distance without trouble. But once they were passing through Illinois, winter had hit them in full force. They had no choice but to hunker down and try to get by. Those who were itching to press through the harsh cold did so, though most were never seen nor heard from again. The ones that chose to stay behind and wait out the worst of it were mainly families, Yuriy's being one of them.
The refugees' tents hadn't held up as much as they needed to, so every able-bodied person helped to cut trees to make small huts to shield them from the bitter winds. In just a few weeks' time, it had already turned into a quaint community, and it was steadily growing for they had been met with others like themselves, trying to make the journey to Southern Command and being hindered by the winter. It didn't take long for it to form into a small settlement, becoming essentially a stop for any passers by. It was remote enough to be of no interest to Reapers, though large enough to support those who wished to stay. After a time, it adopted the title of Bitterfrost Outpost by the folk who lived there and was established as a small base tasked with directing travelers to Southern Command's central area of operation.
However, as peaceful as it was, no one could've anticipated the terrible tragedy that befell them. It was the year Yuriy had turned 7 when a rather large group of weary travelers had arrived at the settlement. Unbeknownst to them, they were being tracked by a group of Reapers with a growing thirst for blood. In the dead of night, by a single gunshot, the event that still haunts the memories of those who survived had begun. There was running and screaming, panic struck every home as Reapers sought any soul unfortunate enough to be within reach. Riflemen fired countless rounds into them but were torn apart almost instantly and drained of their blood. While chaos erupted all around them, Yuriy was in the arms of his father who was fleeing deeper into the forest with the boy's mother in tow. The sounds of gunfire slowly died out as the last few of the fighters were slaughtered, though the screams hadn't ceased for the Reapers had pursued those who fled.
It was one painful cry in particular that still echoes through the mind of Yuriy and without a doubt his father. It was that of his mother, after she had tripped over an exposed tree root and was mercilessly killed by one of the creatures. Hearing the frightening sounds of the feasting behind him, Yuriy's father had turned sharply, causing him to stumble and fall. The boy's father acted swiftly, commanding his son to keep quiet near the trunk of a nearby tree while the man dared to stand up to the nightmarish abomination. He charged with a knife drawn but was thrown to the side before he could even attempt to bring it into the creature's flesh. He was dazed and blacked out, though only for a moment. When he came to, he could see the creature looming near the trunk of a tree - the very same tree he'd left his son near.
Yuriy struggled against the creature's hold, and in the struggle was cut deeply by sharp claws. He cried out in pain as the open flesh on his face was touched by the air, eliciting a defiant shout from his father. However, there was more power behind the voice than either of them had expected, as it was enforced by that of a large bulk of a man that had charged out from the darkness. The man had tackled the Reaper against the tree, breaking bones with an audible crunch and allowing Yuriy the chance to escape. The boy quickly ran to his father's arms and they both watched in awe as this stranger wrestled with the beast. Then, the distant screams were soon drowned out by gunfire that erupted all around them. Armed forces had advanced on the attacking Reapers, driving them back and even reducing their numbers.
In the aftermath, few settlers from Bitterfrost were found alive. The remaining people were escorted by the armed guards to the heart of Southern Command to bring news of the attack and be brought to safety. As it turns out, the men who drove out the Reapers were sent to deliver provisions for the settlers, though it was evident that would no longer be necessary. All that could be done for Yuriy's eye at the time was to be cleaned and bandaged. When the group finally entered the main hub of Southern Command, Yuriy's father was told he should talk to the Lifeweavers within and that they may be able to help with the boy's wound. The Lifeweavers told the man that in order for them to be able to bring vision back to Yuriy's mangled eye, he would need to dedicate his life as a Hunter, and only then would he be able to accept the Lifeweavers' gift.
After careful deliberation, Yuriy decided that he wanted to go through with the process. He wanted to become a Hunter, to help in the fight to drive the invaders out of their rightful home and ultimately ensure that what was done to him and his family would never be done again. And so begun his training...
Yuriy may have started his training earlier than most, though that is simply because he would have the most difficult road ahead of him and he needed to be fully prepared. As an initiate that was blind in one eye, Yuriy was pushed harder than any other because he needed to fight the hardest if he was to become what he needed to become. Yuriy impressed his mentors by greatly surpassing their expectations. When something couldn't be done the first, second, or at times even the third try, he'd still press on and would never accept defeat. Years went by, and eventually Yuriy's wound had closed, though never fully healing. The dying eye went grey and a grotesque scar formed from the cut. By the time he was ready to be given his selected Lifweaver's gift, the gift of Ryu. The gift of the Bear. Yuriy accepted this with great honor, and the hopes that he would truly become a force to be truly feared among those who had done him and all the world wrong.
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Caste: Bear
Appearance: 7'2" very broad frame and very muscular build. He has a light complexion, having a mild tan. His left eye is dark blue, the right being grey and foggy, appearing to be dead and accompanied by a long scar running from the top of his brow to his jaw. The damaged eye is fully functional due to the effects of the Lifeweavers' powers, though it hadn't done much in the way of bringing color back to the revived tissue. He has thick brown hair that he keeps short and cropped atop head and prefers to remain clean shaven.
Personality: As always, Yuriy has been light-hearted and generally good-natured as a result of his upbringing, at least when he's not in a warring mood. However, when he builds an appetite for fighting, it's as if a switch was flipped somewhere inside of him. He becomes like stone - cold, nearly void of emotion. He becomes a calculating, merciless, brutal individual with the desire to crush his foes in every sense of the word.
Gear (Weapons/misc): When one sees Yuriy battle-ready, it becomes evident he would not be fit for superior speed or agility, for the weight he bears is truly one to behold. His pride and joy is his Yak-B 12.7mm machine gun he's improvised for hand-firing. On the fore-end of his weapon's frame is a handle, which he holds with his left arm, that had been fastened on to provide stability while working the firing mechanism on the rear. To lessen the burden of carrying ammunition in a box attatched to the gun, he's fashioned a feeding belt that delivers cartridges from the easy-to-remove box on his back to the firing chamber. The necessary tweaks to the weapon have come with a great sacrifice in its firing speed, bringing it to around 300 rounds per minute.
When his ammo is expended for his prize gun or he needs to drop it for whatever reason, he resorts to his OTs-62 12 Gauge Service Revolver Shotgun and sheer brute force. He keeps his hand-cannon holstered to his right hip and a belt full of solid steel slug ammunition around his waist.
Clothing/Armour: He is usually seen wearing polyester shirts and a black, rugged leather jacket with dark jeans and black mountain boots. He also favors wearing a Luzhkov's-style leather cap when he isn't fully geared up.
When he's fully armored, he wears thick steel plates he's fashioned into various pieces of gear. Heavy pauldrons of riveted steel guard his shoulders, and his arms are also shielded with thick plating. His left arm-guard differs from the right with the sleeve having the addition of a rounded neck guard jutting up from the top of the shoulder, as well as an attatched cestus guarding the top of his hand. The cestus is heavily riveted, allowing him to use the exposed studs as an aid in his batterings. A thick cuirass keeps his torso shielded from many blows, his neck protected with a raised steel guard on the upper back, as well as some of his lower body with the attatched thigh and groin guards. The most protected areas of his body are all above the waist, especially his head. He wears a makeshift Soviet SSH-40 helmet firmly strapped over to his head and to protect his face, he's made himself a steel mask that he keeps secured just as well.
Bio/History: Yuriy grew up a refugee in a small camp in the forests of Illinois, near the fringes of Southern Command. Orignally, the settlers were part of a larger group of resistance fighters gathering to join those in the rumored free territory. They had started this journey from the east coast and had miraculously made a great distance without trouble. But once they were passing through Illinois, winter had hit them in full force. They had no choice but to hunker down and try to get by. Those who were itching to press through the harsh cold did so, though most were never seen nor heard from again. The ones that chose to stay behind and wait out the worst of it were mainly families, Yuriy's being one of them.
The refugees' tents hadn't held up as much as they needed to, so every able-bodied person helped to cut trees to make small huts to shield them from the bitter winds. In just a few weeks' time, it had already turned into a quaint community, and it was steadily growing for they had been met with others like themselves, trying to make the journey to Southern Command and being hindered by the winter. It didn't take long for it to form into a small settlement, becoming essentially a stop for any passers by. It was remote enough to be of no interest to Reapers, though large enough to support those who wished to stay. After a time, it adopted the title of Bitterfrost Outpost by the folk who lived there and was established as a small base tasked with directing travelers to Southern Command's central area of operation.
However, as peaceful as it was, no one could've anticipated the terrible tragedy that befell them. It was the year Yuriy had turned 7 when a rather large group of weary travelers had arrived at the settlement. Unbeknownst to them, they were being tracked by a group of Reapers with a growing thirst for blood. In the dead of night, by a single gunshot, the event that still haunts the memories of those who survived had begun. There was running and screaming, panic struck every home as Reapers sought any soul unfortunate enough to be within reach. Riflemen fired countless rounds into them but were torn apart almost instantly and drained of their blood. While chaos erupted all around them, Yuriy was in the arms of his father who was fleeing deeper into the forest with the boy's mother in tow. The sounds of gunfire slowly died out as the last few of the fighters were slaughtered, though the screams hadn't ceased for the Reapers had pursued those who fled.
It was one painful cry in particular that still echoes through the mind of Yuriy and without a doubt his father. It was that of his mother, after she had tripped over an exposed tree root and was mercilessly killed by one of the creatures. Hearing the frightening sounds of the feasting behind him, Yuriy's father had turned sharply, causing him to stumble and fall. The boy's father acted swiftly, commanding his son to keep quiet near the trunk of a nearby tree while the man dared to stand up to the nightmarish abomination. He charged with a knife drawn but was thrown to the side before he could even attempt to bring it into the creature's flesh. He was dazed and blacked out, though only for a moment. When he came to, he could see the creature looming near the trunk of a tree - the very same tree he'd left his son near.
Yuriy struggled against the creature's hold, and in the struggle was cut deeply by sharp claws. He cried out in pain as the open flesh on his face was touched by the air, eliciting a defiant shout from his father. However, there was more power behind the voice than either of them had expected, as it was enforced by that of a large bulk of a man that had charged out from the darkness. The man had tackled the Reaper against the tree, breaking bones with an audible crunch and allowing Yuriy the chance to escape. The boy quickly ran to his father's arms and they both watched in awe as this stranger wrestled with the beast. Then, the distant screams were soon drowned out by gunfire that erupted all around them. Armed forces had advanced on the attacking Reapers, driving them back and even reducing their numbers.
In the aftermath, few settlers from Bitterfrost were found alive. The remaining people were escorted by the armed guards to the heart of Southern Command to bring news of the attack and be brought to safety. As it turns out, the men who drove out the Reapers were sent to deliver provisions for the settlers, though it was evident that would no longer be necessary. All that could be done for Yuriy's eye at the time was to be cleaned and bandaged. When the group finally entered the main hub of Southern Command, Yuriy's father was told he should talk to the Lifeweavers within and that they may be able to help with the boy's wound. The Lifeweavers told the man that in order for them to be able to bring vision back to Yuriy's mangled eye, he would need to dedicate his life as a Hunter, and only then would he be able to accept the Lifeweavers' gift.
After careful deliberation, Yuriy decided that he wanted to go through with the process. He wanted to become a Hunter, to help in the fight to drive the invaders out of their rightful home and ultimately ensure that what was done to him and his family would never be done again. And so begun his training...
Yuriy may have started his training earlier than most, though that is simply because he would have the most difficult road ahead of him and he needed to be fully prepared. As an initiate that was blind in one eye, Yuriy was pushed harder than any other because he needed to fight the hardest if he was to become what he needed to become. Yuriy impressed his mentors by greatly surpassing their expectations. When something couldn't be done the first, second, or at times even the third try, he'd still press on and would never accept defeat. Years went by, and eventually Yuriy's wound had closed, though never fully healing. The dying eye went grey and a grotesque scar formed from the cut. By the time he was ready to be given his selected Lifweaver's gift, the gift of Ryu. The gift of the Bear. Yuriy accepted this with great honor, and the hopes that he would truly become a force to be truly feared among those who had done him and all the world wrong.
Sounds good! As always, be aware that using foreign weapons in a Post-Apocalyptic setting is going to make ammunition hard to find.Mortis Nuncius said:Apologies for the delay.
And now, I await your judgement.
Name: Yuriy Solovyev
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Caste: Bear
Appearance: 7'2" very broad frame and very muscular build. He has a light complexion, having a mild tan. His left eye is dark blue, the right being grey and foggy, appearing to be dead and accompanied by a long scar running from the top of his brow to his jaw. The damaged eye is fully functional due to the effects of the Lifeweavers' powers, though it hadn't done much in the way of bringing color back to the revived tissue. He has thick brown hair that he keeps short and cropped atop head and prefers to remain clean shaven.
Personality: As always, Yuriy has been light-hearted and generally good-natured as a result of his upbringing, at least when he's not in a warring mood. However, when he builds an appetite for fighting, it's as if a switch was flipped somewhere inside of him. He becomes like stone - cold, nearly void of emotion. He becomes a calculating, merciless, brutal individual with the desire to crush his foes in every sense of the word.
Gear (Weapons/misc): When one sees Yuriy battle-ready, it becomes evident he would not be fit for superior speed or agility, for the weight he bears is truly one to behold. His pride and joy is his Yak-B 12.7mm machine gun he's improvised for hand-firing. On the fore-end of his weapon's frame is a handle, which he holds with his left arm, that had been fastened on to provide stability while working the firing mechanism on the rear. To lessen the burden of carrying ammunition in a box attatched to the gun, he's fashioned a feeding belt that delivers cartridges from the easy-to-remove box on his back to the firing chamber. The necessary tweaks to the weapon have come with a great sacrifice in its firing speed, bringing it to around 300 rounds per minute.
When his ammo is expended for his prize gun or he needs to drop it for whatever reason, he resorts to his OTs-62 12 Gauge Service Revolver Shotgun and sheer brute force. He keeps his hand-cannon holstered to his right hip and a belt full of solid steel slug ammunition around his waist.
Clothing/Armour: He is usually seen wearing polyester shirts and a black, rugged leather jacket with dark jeans and black mountain boots. He also favors wearing a Luzhkov's-style leather cap when he isn't fully geared up.
When he's fully armored, he wears thick steel plates he's fashioned into various pieces of gear. Heavy pauldrons of riveted steel guard his shoulders, and his arms are also shielded with thick plating. His left arm-guard differs from the right with the sleeve having the addition of a rounded neck guard jutting up from the top of the shoulder, as well as an attatched cestus guarding the top of his hand. The cestus is heavily riveted, allowing him to use the exposed studs as an aid in his batterings. A thick cuirass keeps his torso shielded from many blows, his neck protected with a raised steel guard on the upper back, as well as some of his lower body with the attatched thigh and groin guards. The most protected areas of his body are all above the waist, especially his head. He wears a makeshift Soviet SSH-40 helmet firmly strapped over to his head and to protect his face, he's made himself a steel mask that he keeps secured just as well.
Bio/History: Yuriy grew up a refugee in a small camp in the forests of Illinois, near the fringes of Southern Command. Orignally, the settlers were part of a larger group of resistance fighters gathering to join those in the rumored free territory. They had started this journey from the east coast and had miraculously made a great distance without trouble. But once they were passing through Illinois, winter had hit them in full force. They had no choice but to hunker down and try to get by. Those who were itching to press through the harsh cold did so, though most were never seen nor heard from again. The ones that chose to stay behind and wait out the worst of it were mainly families, Yuriy's being one of them.
The refugees' tents hadn't held up as much as they needed to, so every able-bodied person helped to cut trees to make small huts to shield them from the bitter winds. In just a few weeks' time, it had already turned into a quaint community, and it was steadily growing for they had been met with others like themselves, trying to make the journey to Southern Command and being hindered by the winter. It didn't take long for it to form into a small settlement, becoming essentially a stop for any passers by. It was remote enough to be of no interest to Reapers, though large enough to support those who wished to stay. After a time, it adopted the title of Bitterfrost Outpost by the folk who lived there and was established as a small base tasked with directing travelers to Southern Command's central area of operation.
However, as peaceful as it was, no one could've anticipated the terrible tragedy that befell them. It was the year Yuriy had turned 7 when a rather large group of weary travelers had arrived at the settlement. Unbeknownst to them, they were being tracked by a group of Reapers with a growing thirst for blood. In the dead of night, by a single gunshot, the event that still haunts the memories of those who survived had begun. There was running and screaming, panic struck every home as Reapers sought any soul unfortunate enough to be within reach. Riflemen fired countless rounds into them but were torn apart almost instantly and drained of their blood. While chaos erupted all around them, Yuriy was in the arms of his father who was fleeing deeper into the forest with the boy's mother in tow. The sounds of gunfire slowly died out as the last few of the fighters were slaughtered, though the screams hadn't ceased for the Reapers had pursued those who fled.
It was one painful cry in particular that still echoes through the mind of Yuriy and without a doubt his father. It was that of his mother, after she had tripped over an exposed tree root and was mercilessly killed by one of the creatures. Hearing the frightening sounds of the feasting behind him, Yuriy's father had turned sharply, causing him to stumble and fall. The boy's father acted swiftly, commanding his son to keep quiet near the trunk of a nearby tree while the man dared to stand up to the nightmarish abomination. He charged with a knife drawn but was thrown to the side before he could even attempt to bring it into the creature's flesh. He was dazed and blacked out, though only for a moment. When he came to, he could see the creature looming near the trunk of a tree - the very same tree he'd left his son near.
Yuriy struggled against the creature's hold, and in the struggle was cut deeply by sharp claws. He cried out in pain as the open flesh on his face was touched by the air, eliciting a defiant shout from his father. However, there was more power behind the voice than either of them had expected, as it was enforced by that of a large bulk of a man that had charged out from the darkness. The man had tackled the Reaper against the tree, breaking bones with an audible crunch and allowing Yuriy the chance to escape. The boy quickly ran to his father's arms and they both watched in awe as this stranger wrestled with the beast. Then, the distant screams were soon drowned out by gunfire that erupted all around them. Armed forces had advanced on the attacking Reapers, driving them back and even reducing their numbers.
In the aftermath, few settlers from Bitterfrost were found alive. The remaining people were escorted by the armed guards to the heart of Southern Command to bring news of the attack and be brought to safety. As it turns out, the men who drove out the Reapers were sent to deliver provisions for the settlers, though it was evident that would no longer be necessary. All that could be done for Yuriy's eye at the time was to be cleaned and bandaged. When the group finally entered the main hub of Southern Command, Yuriy's father was told he should talk to the Lifeweavers within and that they may be able to help with the boy's wound. The Lifeweavers told the man that in order for them to be able to bring vision back to Yuriy's mangled eye, he would need to dedicate his life as a Hunter, and only then would he be able to accept the Lifeweavers' gift.
After careful deliberation, Yuriy decided that he wanted to go through with the process. He wanted to become a Hunter, to help in the fight to drive the invaders out of their rightful home and ultimately ensure that what was done to him and his family would never be done again. And so begun his training...
Yuriy may have started his training earlier than most, though that is simply because he would have the most difficult road ahead of him and he needed to be fully prepared. As an initiate that was blind in one eye, Yuriy was pushed harder than any other because he needed to fight the hardest if he was to become what he needed to become. Yuriy impressed his mentors by greatly surpassing their expectations. When something couldn't be done the first, second, or at times even the third try, he'd still press on and would never accept defeat. Years went by, and eventually Yuriy's wound had closed, though never fully healing. The dying eye went grey and a grotesque scar formed from the cut. By the time he was ready to be given his selected Lifweaver's gift, the gift of Ryu. The gift of the Bear. Yuriy accepted this with great honor, and the hopes that he would truly become a force to be truly feared among those who had done him and all the world wrong.
Am I too late? I hope not. This seems like it'll be a good bit of fun.Dectomax said:
Name: Scatach. It's a nickname she gave herself, but she has since obliderated all traces of her former name, which she hated.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Caste: Cat
Appearance: Scathach is a medium height woman, roughly 5'6". She wears her wavy red hair at about jaw length, though it's getting slightly long, halfway down her thin neck. She is obviously of Scottish descent, through her father's side, giving her a pool of freckles on her cheekbones, pale skin and red hair. Her eyes are light gray, with catlike pupils from her transformation.
Personality: Scathach is a tough street rat, with a personality to match. She's gruff and harsh in the extreme, though she genuinely cares about the people close to her. However, she tends to not let people get close to her. Her father was a castout from a family of quislings, and passed on what education he could to his children, which makes her somewhat more well-read and knowledgeable than most. Mostly, she prefers non-lethal hand-to-hand, taking down her opponents down with a fighting style consisting of copious momentum and absolute pragmatism, rather than simply killing them.
Gear (Weapons/misc): She carries a push knife, a small double-edged dagger, three throwing knives and a pouch of noise-makers she uses to distract targets, in addition to the standard claws of a cat. She had a kurki that she used for several years in the city, but she lost it on her last, and most difficult, job. She is currently looking for one to replace it.
Clothing/Armour: She wears trendy- though functional- civilian clothing, typically greens, reds or blues. She wears a fingerless glove on her left hand, to aid in climbing. She sacrifices armour for sheer maneuverability.
Bio/History: Gina was born to a quisling defector and a communist who gave much more than they could afford to those even less fortunate than them. She was raised in a small, out of the way apartment in what was once the Bronx of New York City. However, when she was ten, her mother and father were harvested, leaving her and her younger brother to fend for themselves. Scathach became adept at thievery, and then, later, running, in a particular style of free running of her own invention. This continued for a while, as she gradually moved up from simply picking pockets to slipping into buildings to pilfer valuables.
Once she got a name for being able to get all across the city without the authorities knowing, certain parties utilized her as a courier for goods they wanted to keep secret and make sure they got where they needed to. Eventually, she came into contact with Southern Command, when they contracted her to take supplies and intel to a Cat working in the city. After a few trips of the nature, she decided to join up, due to a desire to get her little brother out of the city, and a desire to avenge her parents. She was trained and transformed into a Cat, her new abilities augmenting the ones she had developed already.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Caste: Cat
Appearance: Scathach is a medium height woman, roughly 5'6". She wears her wavy red hair at about jaw length, though it's getting slightly long, halfway down her thin neck. She is obviously of Scottish descent, through her father's side, giving her a pool of freckles on her cheekbones, pale skin and red hair. Her eyes are light gray, with catlike pupils from her transformation.
Personality: Scathach is a tough street rat, with a personality to match. She's gruff and harsh in the extreme, though she genuinely cares about the people close to her. However, she tends to not let people get close to her. Her father was a castout from a family of quislings, and passed on what education he could to his children, which makes her somewhat more well-read and knowledgeable than most. Mostly, she prefers non-lethal hand-to-hand, taking down her opponents down with a fighting style consisting of copious momentum and absolute pragmatism, rather than simply killing them.
Gear (Weapons/misc): She carries a push knife, a small double-edged dagger, three throwing knives and a pouch of noise-makers she uses to distract targets, in addition to the standard claws of a cat. She had a kurki that she used for several years in the city, but she lost it on her last, and most difficult, job. She is currently looking for one to replace it.
Clothing/Armour: She wears trendy- though functional- civilian clothing, typically greens, reds or blues. She wears a fingerless glove on her left hand, to aid in climbing. She sacrifices armour for sheer maneuverability.
Bio/History: Gina was born to a quisling defector and a communist who gave much more than they could afford to those even less fortunate than them. She was raised in a small, out of the way apartment in what was once the Bronx of New York City. However, when she was ten, her mother and father were harvested, leaving her and her younger brother to fend for themselves. Scathach became adept at thievery, and then, later, running, in a particular style of free running of her own invention. This continued for a while, as she gradually moved up from simply picking pockets to slipping into buildings to pilfer valuables.
Once she got a name for being able to get all across the city without the authorities knowing, certain parties utilized her as a courier for goods they wanted to keep secret and make sure they got where they needed to. Eventually, she came into contact with Southern Command, when they contracted her to take supplies and intel to a Cat working in the city. After a few trips of the nature, she decided to join up, due to a desire to get her little brother out of the city, and a desire to avenge her parents. She was trained and transformed into a Cat, her new abilities augmenting the ones she had developed already.
That was actually mostly why I chose a cat. I couldn't decide, so I counted how many of each there were and made whichever had the least. :|Ultraman950 said:
We're obviously soul mates. We should just skip all the runaround and get married now, yes?Ultraman950 said:Hey, that's what I usually do too.
Yeah, I though about being a normal but... Why would you? Haha.
No thanks, I don't think you're my type.SamtheDeathclaw said:We're obviously soul mates. We should just skip all the runaround and get married now, yes?Ultraman950 said:Hey, that's what I usually do too.
Yeah, I though about being a normal but... Why would you? Haha.
I dunno. Normal is boring. XD