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Post by Nocte Alistair on Nov 13, 2019 10:12:28 GMT
Nocte Alistair
Operative - ★ - Milestone Rank 0 - Wealth Stage 3
Kogami Ryoken from Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains
magiertama#7876
Basic Information
Alias:R_Assassin Zephyrim Age: 23. Sexuality: Undisclosed. Height: 182 cm. Weight: 79 kg. Hair: Short, wild, white with streaks of blue. Eyes: Icy blue. His pupils are white instead of black. Skin & Scars: His hands are callous, and there are huge scars and bumps on his shoulder-blades. His back is partially covered by opaque scales.
Details
"I once saw an eighty years old lady naked. I got grey hair after that."
Looking at Nocte, people often wonder if he is an Afflicted or not, whether his hair and eye-color is something he was born with. He prefers not to enlighten them on the matter, or just come up with funny stories why he looks the way he does. These stories never match one another though, but he has fun mixing up information for shits and giggles.
In any case, he was born with the white and blue hair as part of his affliction. His hair is unnaturally hard to the touch, more similar to the texture of horns instead, as if he gelled it to this shape with some oil. That might as well be one of his stories, actually. The most unnerving are his eyes though, having the eerie white pupils in icy blue irises, giving him this piercing gaze even when content.
When it comes to clothing, he prefers long coats with anything simple and casual to wear underneath. He feels most comfortable when his body is covered up, especially his back, with multiple layers. The purpose is obvious, really: he is hiding the opaque white scales that are covering his skin. These are remains of his Afflicted status, and only appeared on him after what originally made him different was cut away from him. Those ugly, badly healed scars are still visible on his shoulder-blades, and even the scales can’t quite sooth them out.
He is tall, and will keep himself as such in a crowd, walking straight with a healthy posture. He takes extra care in keeping himself clean and proper. It radiates a kind of confidence, that came useful when dealing with other Operatives on the job, even when he is on unfamiliar ground.
Nocte’s behavior is largely affected by his job as an operative. Being highly adaptable and resilient, he can take on most needed traits in any situation, especially during a period of impersonation.
In the everyday life, he is direct, soothing, someone easy to approach. He seems to be open about his opinion, and declares it often enough, caring little about conflicts it might cause. He prefers to step back from limelight, but trouble finds him anyway. It doesn’t help that he is a quiet trickster, enabling anyone that is looking for trouble. He covers up everything with sarcastic jokes and hearty pranks, much to the chagrin of people interacting with him. Overall though, he can be the sweetest person ever, motherhenning friends and picking up kids to play with them, distracting from worries with jokes and care.
During the job though, he is merciless. As his specialty is assassination work, taking care of the unneeded factors in society, he learned to reel in his emotions and lock them away deeply. There is no place for jokes when duty requires cold blood and precision. Focus and determination are the main traits, and when he needs anything else, he will adapt. Being able to slip into another personality comes with the territory, and by keeping himself carefully blank, he can just as easily play the role of a dead man even if the blood had yet to dry on his hands.
Nocte’s behavior is riddled with huge question marks. His personality is just blank, empty, but then he chooses to slot on a mask and act like another person to deceive his surroundings. It is quite hard to figure out his real intentions, and he prefers to hide and bury away everything and anything that could potentially compromise him. Not even he knows what he is anymore.
History
"Ten little urchins are playing tag in town~ One threw a rock, and then one fell down~ Nine little urchins are playing tag in town--"
To the surprise of absolutely no one, “Nocte Alistair” does not exist.
However, there once existed a boy who was born into the Sheridan family and lived in Haven for a certain part of his life as a twin to his brother. The Sheridan family members were herbalists for generations and supplied Haven with their special concoctions for decades. The parents planned to teach the twins as well so they would inherit the family business, go to school to learn the ins and outs of medicine, then all the family recipes to continue with the tradition, so the Sheridans would always be medicine suppliers. Their life was planned for them, and the boys had little care for the world outside of that.
The twin brothers were identical in face and body, but they were quite different in other features. After one year into their childhood, it was obvious both of them were among the Afflicted. The boy had tiny scale-like spots covering his shoulder-blades, which were at first mistakenly thought as a skin condition, however, when the skin opened up to grow meaty lumps of tiny, white, feathery wings, the parents knew it was no allergy that caused the change in skin. His twin brother, Caenan had similar scales covering his lower back, which quickly developed into feathers as well. Those were much easier to hide away from the curious eyes though. Whenever customers arrived to their parents, the boy was sent away to the back, not to be seen, and his twin followed to ease the loneliness of the boy. They were doing everything together; the lessons of medicine, playtime, sleeping, and even the times of banishment to the backroom on the rare occasions. They understood that the Afflicted were prejudiced against – their parents never kept that a secret in order to prepare the boys to the future. But the boy had the affliction visible, and as time went on and his wings grew, it was not possible to hide them under clothes anymore.
But the twins were still happy. They were loved by and cared for by their parents despite everything, and to express their gratitude, the twins were obedient and hard-working in their studies.
But every happiness has an end, right?
The boy barely even remembers how it all happened. The family had to travel to Vantalux, then to Fumehat for business dealings, and they debated for a long time whether to bring the boy with them, or leave him with a family friend in Haven. His Afflicted status would make the travel complicated, and time was of the essence in their business. In the end, the boy was left in Haven with a shop owner, much to the sadness of his twin who was allowed on the trip in his stead.
How the decision came, the boy did not remember. And how he ended up chained to a wall underground, he remembers even less.
The upcoming times were also little more than a blur. He remembers not always being alone, seeing other children of varying ages and genders, but all afflicted, Emes with features that made them stranger than humans, made them less. The people holding them were preaching, half the words were lost on the boy, but he could remember words like root, savior, land, tree, beast. He had no idea why these words were said, or in what context, but the vowels and consonants remained with him. He remembers another boy, little older than him, being on the side of the preaching ones, frightened and devastated by the sight. But his face had washed out of his memory, nothing more than a blob of colors in his mind.
He was not agreeable to the slightest. He fought and bit and clawed any time he could, unruly and wild, fighting for freedom and sanity while he had the energy. He knew so little, but the fear had made him lash out instead of back away and cover. That landed him with more bruises and cuts than necessary, but his instincts told him to fight. One of his wings was broken, the other heavily bruised, and he curled up behind the feathers at night to lull himself to sleep.
Change came with a shock. The preaching ones were in an uproar, and before anyone noticed what was happening, they were collapsing, one after the other, suffocating in their own blood. A shadow, a cloaked figure was taking their lives with such a speed that it was hard to follow, a Reaper that came for the lives of the preaching ones.
Death itself was his savior.
And he decided to follow Death wherever it goes.
He long stopped desiring his family’s warmth. For whatever reason he was snatched away from them, the boy decided there was no meaning in returning anymore. And so he followed Death, and Death decided to take him in.
He learned that Death’s name was Galivan. And he also learned that Galivan was a different kind of savior. This was his first interaction with Operatives, and also the exact thing that pushed him into a life of assassination. As the boy had no place to return to, feeling the betrayal of his family, Galivan was willing to take him in and teach him the ropes of his profession. It took some convincing, sneaking and pushing, but after a while, the boy was, so to say, adopted. He didn’t know it was a mistake.
Galivan was cruel and strict, a broken man with an even more broken soul, but the boy had only this savior to cling onto. The first order of business was to tailor the boy into the lifestyle, and nothing as outstanding and obnoxious as a pair of wings were allowed to remain, even more so if one was already broken. Out at the very edges of Haven, at a hidden Operative hideout, the boy’s days of agony started with his wings severed with Galivan’s Vanta weapon, a sawblade.
These days were another blurry spot in his memory, just like his time in captivity, but once he was able to move, he remembers feeling his shoulders lighter without wigs weighting him down. He grieved his wings in his own way, but he had no time to waste – he would be left behind if he didn’t learn to walk and run with his changed center of gravity.
After that, it was rigorous training where mistakes made him receive harsh punishment. The boy never talked about how it went down, but he traveled with Galivan through Vantalux, the Wharf, and Fumehat for different kinds of jobs in the upcoming years. He learned many things from his master, all the traditions and special language of the Operatives, and all the habits of the people of the different cities. He also learned the mood-swings of his teacher, when it was better to cater to his wishes, and when it was better to just leave him alone. Galivan was harsh, and knew only the meaning of abuse, but the boy was unable to leave his teacher and this life behind. And when the boy was just past his stripling years, it was time for his First Blood.
The job, as it turned out, was linked to the religious cult Galivan saved him from, hence making him into a perfect candidate. For this job, they returned to Haven, returned to the boy’s home, to his old house.
The job was easy – to kill his twin, and take his place.
It was supposed to be easy. He didn’t hesitate cutting Caenan’s throat and hiding his body. He refused to remember the pain he felt upon doing that. He did his best in playing his role and gathering information about the Sheridan’s drug business that was covered up by their medicine sells, about their connection to the religion cult in the shadows of Haven, about the human trafficking they were involved with. According to Galivan, they made a mistake, and they were now an undesirable splinter in society. And so, after their business was uncovered, it was time to remove them from the picture.
The cover was already planned. The accident will happen on a business trip, and caused by roaming monsters, of course. On paper, at least. It was the boy’s job to get rid of them, and his act was perfect right until the final moment, when his determination almost shattered as his mother recognized him as not Caenan, but as himself.
“I am so sorry. If I had known... If I had known, I would have gone back for you. We grieved you. I am so sorry. My dear s---“
And then, it was quiet. The job was done.
Galivan kept him close during work, but the boy’s behavior showed some changes after that. Despite being the cold-blooded assassin he was trained to be, when there was no active job to do, the boy was livelier than ever. It was as if he was so tailored into the role of his twin that he took on his persona after killing him. Galivan thought little of the phenomenon. After all, every Operative had a tick that kept them going through this job. It was even reflected in his Vanta weapon that he acquired after a job well done, the weapon changing his appearance in a needy situation just like how he is assuming different personae on and out of a job.
This was how Nocte Alistair was born.
And this was also how Galivan went down a different path. One time, he was there, the next, he was running from the Operatives, went rogue for being a judge when his job was just to kill whoever he was commissioned to. Nocte found himself alone this time, waiting for the next job, however odd it might be.
Nocte’s goal? To continue his work as an assassin, not stepping too out of line to ruse the wrath of other Operatives, and to find the rogue Galivan. And then, to cut him down.
Post by Nocte Alistair on Nov 17, 2019 19:02:00 GMT
Covenant
Vanta Weapon Rank ★
Description
"You can't get rid of guilt, but you can learn to live with it."
Nocte’s weapon takes the form of a long sword called a tachi. Its blade is slender and slightly curved, most fitting for slicing movements instead of piercing. It has a relatively great reach, the whole of the weapon being one meter long. The grip is slightly wider and longer than one would expect, and is wrapped in white leather, and decorated by silvery colored ornaments on both ends. The hilt is finely made, and the blade has engravings near where it connects to the grip. Aside from the leather wrapping and the cord hanging from the end of the grip, the whole of the weapon is made of Vanta metal, fined to have a color as close to white as possible.
Ability
"Vow to me!"
Aside from being a quick and effective weapon, Covenant of course has its own gimmick that makes it irreplaceable for Nocte. The tachi is fully compatible with his Vel and fighting style, but upon pressing down on the sword’s hilt with its sheath, the weapon changes. With a few twists and turns – that Nocte usually complements with a bit of a swirl for dramatic effect – the tachi and its sheath turns into a slender, elegant bow. The blade positions itself on the outer side of the upper half of the bow, while the hilt and the grip takes up the core. The blade can be used for attacks even in this form, although rather uncomfortably, as its main purpose is, of course, range. Naturally, it does not provide arrows, but that is just a tiny problem he has to keep in mind.
Zephyr Slicer
Vel Rank ★ - Control
Power
"Woooooooooosh, zoink!"
Although Nocte has lost his wings when he was a child, his body was able to adjust itself to the power he wielded. Being free-spirited, hard to reel in and even harder to shackle, his Vel now still reflects his nature perfectly. As such, Nocte is able to control the air around him to a certain extent, making it change direction, gain speed or slow down to however he wants it to.
Any air he can "touch" is free reign - even though anyone else is unable to, he can freely touch the wind and make it abide his wishes. The air his Vel controls always takes on a vibrant green appearance. The currents usually originate from his close proximity and blow outward, his controlled wind can accurately go about as far as 10 meters. The air might as well be called a blade in his hands, because it is sharp enough to cut into wood. The wind, of course, can knock down things in its way, and it can pick up small objects that weight a maximum of 10 kilograms, just like how a tornado can pick up a brick and throw it around, but it is never precise.
Disadvantages
"Well, that blows. Get it? Blows."
One might think that Nocte won the Vel lottery by being able to control air currents. Hell, even he thought that until one day he nearly suffocated from the strain it put on his body and made him realize he has his own limitations. First and foremost, he can only control air that is actually breathable by humans. It needs to have close to the right amount of oxygen and hydrogen in it, or his Vel just couldn’t grab onto the air to be controlled. Hence, toxic fumes are a setback for him, as are airtight places.
He quickly learned that to properly use his powers, he has to control his own breathing as well. In case he has trouble doing that, for example being strangled, or being in a place where he can’t breathe, his own Vel will betray him and stop working. On the occasion he overuses his power, he will experience trouble breathing as his respiratory muscles slow down, not providing his body with enough air. In the worst case scenario, his respiratory muscles stop working altogether, and he suffocates within minutes.
Post by Nocte Alistair on Nov 17, 2019 19:03:42 GMT
Military Abilities
Windborn
Star Rank: ★ Description: Nocte quickly learned that his chosen weapon and Vel required precise movements and control over the body to utilize fully. And so, he trained to have the movements needed with his fighting style, or, well, assassination style. Same difference. His body has the agility of a trained athlete, in a certain sense, he is dexterous like a cat among the Operatives.
Military Ability Name
Star Rank: Number. Description:
Military Ability Name
Star Rank: Number. Description:
Military Ability Name
Star Rank: Number. Description:
Military Ability Name
Star Rank: Number. Description:
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Talents
Engineering
Star Rank: ★ Description: His weapon is one tough cookie, and once he learned what it can do, he realized he will need to take good care of it in order to never be betrayed by the Vanta. He is slowly learning the ins and outs of engineering, specializing in weapon mechanics and other mechanical objects. His knowledge is only barely enough for basic maintenance though, but he is determined to study more.
Talent Name
Star Rank: Number. Description: I guess he will be good at something that has nothing to do with murder, hhhmmmmmmm
Talent Name
Star Rank: Number. Description: I guess he will be good at something that has nothing to do with murder
Talent Name
Star Rank: Number. Description: He might be good at something that has nothing to do with murder
Talent Name
Star Rank: Number. Description: He could be good at something that has nothing to do with murder
Talent Name
Star Rank: Number. Description: I have faith he will be good at something that has nothing to do with murder
Nocte, your wings have been cut off but I hope that, some day, you'll find the strenght to fly. And, if you don't, may the New and Old Gods have mercy, for a broken mind fears nothing.
