The Service [OOC/PG-16/Not Started/Accepting]

BANZAI!!!! · July 25, 2016

~A Zai RP~

~Hosted by: Zai, Majoras~

~Logo by: Yui~

[spoiler=Teaser]The man took another sip of his tea as he pondered my question.

"I just wanted to do my duty."

"Come now, surely there's more to the famous Major Leroy Ridgefield than that. Just youthful patriotism? I don't buy it. A man known for being as perceptive as yourself surely must have had a deeper reason for joining the corps." At this he chuckled, giving me a warm, confident smile.

"And you seem to be a man who studies his mark, Mr. Albert Genette. Its true, I had ulterior motives for enlisting all those years ago." I took a puff from my cigar and listened to him continue. "Its not as interesting or enlightening as you seem to think, though."

"Nonetheless, Major. I'm a biographer after all. I'm here to get the whole story."

"Well, if you must know... I was in love." He shrugged, and now it was my turn to chuckle. "We all do crazy things when we're young, after all."

"Not the answer I was expecting, but contrary to what you seem to think that makes for quite the interesting story, Major. Tell me about it?"

"I suppose that's what we're meeting about, isn't it? You're here to get my life story down on paper."

"Something like that. More tea?"

"Please." I did as he asked and refilled his mug. "Well, where do you want me to start?"

"Where it all started, of course. Graduation."

"Ahh... yes..."

[spoiler=Terms, Rules, and Information]First and foremost, all YCM and RP section rules apply. Obvious. Second, My word, or Majoras's word, is law. What we say goes, and that is final. Now, for the actually necessary information.

We're gonna try something a little different. Though The Service is for all intents and purposes set in a world similar to that of a space opera, it will be told much more like a serialized war drama. Instead of a grand, epic adventure, the focus of the story will be firmly on the trials and tribulations of its core cast. Beginning from the day a close knit group of friends graduates and decides to enlist in the service, the story of the RP will be told in several self-contained "chapters" that focus on significant events in the lives of one or more of the core cast members. Chapters may take place months, or even years apart from one another, though all of them will have significance for both the core cast, as well as on the overarching tale of Humanity's struggle against an alien threat.

Now, where do you come in?

All participants in the RP will play a member of the core cast, as well as any number of NPCs they desire. Every chapter in the RP will focus primarily on one or more of the core cast members (the entire group may not always be together due to differing deployments, branches of service, etc). Those with core cast members not present during a chapter will be free to control any number of NPCs that are present. As the RP progresses, characters will develop, their relationships with one another will change and so on.

[spoiler=Setting]Its been over 200 years since the human race unified under the banner of the United Earth Confederation. With the advent of the Star Drive in 2391, humanity became capable of faster than light travel, and subsequently took to the stars. Within 100 years the UEC had extended its influence out into many parts of the milky way galaxy, colonizing worlds and exploring the cosmos. Indeed, interstellar travel heralded a new age for humanity.

However, it was not to last.

In 2566, humanity made contact with the Ovid, a hostile race of insectoids that had colonized many planets in the inner spiral of the Milky Way. The Ovid's large size and vastly superior numbers quickly overwhelmed the the UEC, and soon humanity began to lose world after world to the alien invaders. It wasn't until 2571, with the advent of advanced weaponry specifically designed to counter the Ovid threat, that humanity began to regain some of its lost ground.

It is now 2579, and humanity has been at war for nearly 15 years. The Ovid are an ever present menace, slowly making their way ever deeper into UEC space. Slowly, but surely, worlds are falling, and all that stands between the human race and extinction are the brave men and women of Confederation Space Forces.

[spoiler=Plot]Though there is an interstellar war waging, life for those living behind the battle lines on the Confederation's colony worlds remains relatively peaceful. Idyllic, some might even say. One such world is Lucera, a temperate, Earth-like planet located in the Aurellia System. Home to roughly 1 billion inhabitants, Lucera's location deep within Confederation territory, as well as the presence of several CSF installations within the system means that those living there can still enjoy a comfortable, cosmopolitan lifestyle, free from the ravages of war.

Its is here, in the month of June on the Earth calendar, where our story begins. The school year is almost over for the students of Severan Academy, and for those in their fourth year, it means graduation, and ultimately their futures, loom on the horizon. On one of these spring nights, a group of friends decides to make a vow, and, unknowingly, a decision that will change their fates, as well as the fate of the human race, forever.

[spoiler=Database]Entries are forthcoming.

[spoiler=App Skeleton]

Name:

Age: (17-18)

Gender:

[spoiler=Physical Description]Four Lines minimum, plus an image. Note that characters' appearances may change as they age.

[spoiler=Personality]6 lines minimum. Note that a Character's personality may change as they mature and experience more events.

[spoiler=Biography]Note that the biography will be updated as the RP progresses and years pass.

[spoiler=Misc. Info]

bury the year · July 25, 2016

As stated over Skype, potentially interested.

Dad · July 25, 2016

Interest? jabroni this is not an option. Make the ooc. But yeah, I'm in.

Durandamon · July 25, 2016

Interest checked! I'm writing on this side of the screen cuz I'm cool like that.

DEStroyer of worlds! · July 25, 2016

Defiantly interested

a coffee · July 25, 2016

[spoiler=WIP Pending Changes to the Skeleton: Erin Doxson]Name: Erin Doxson

Age: 18

Gender: Female

[spoiler=Physical]

Clearly evidenced, Erin is petite, but is perhaps just a small bit more filled out in her figure; not by much, but enough to give her torso a little more curve than the pic would suggest. Erin also has a nose stud on her right nostril. She takes it out fairly often, especially for important things, where she would need to look as professional as possible, but does have one. Erin is particularly ashamed of her somewhat childlike features, and is always careful to deploy an expertly chosen array of makeup, none too overbearing, all meant to bring out her sharp features, with the intention of giving her a sassier, adult look. Even if she's waking up with another person, Erin will wake up before them to apply the aforementioned makeup. You will never, ever see her without it.

Vitals:

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 125 lbs

[spoiler=Biography]Erin walked around her room, growing bored of her normal daily tasks; today was just a boring old Wednesday, which usually meant something insane was about to go down, but maybe that was just the war vet in her talking. She looked over at her desk; the journal she bought before she left for the service lay there. There were a few days of notes in it, but nothing special.

“Maybe I aught to actually do what my mom said and write this all down.” She looked at her watch: 11 AM. Damn, there was actually enough time to do all of this. She pulled her chair out and began to write:

They say when you join the CSF, you become a hero, and heroes never die, they only leave their bodies, their legends to remembered in the annals of military history forever.

My father was no hero.

My father was never meant for a war, or some kind of resistance, he was never supposed to get a gun. He was supposed to be an accountant; a mild-mannered man who would rot away in a cubicle if for no other reason than to provide an excellent, educated life for his daughter, and a comfortable, if not slightly lavish, home for his wife. But when the Ovid came around and it really looked like we might not win, all kinds of people started signing up for the service, behind the logic that maybe they could be the war hero that saved humanity. I was just turning 13 when my father started the drinking. Sure, he never laid his hands on me, but lord knows what he did to my mother behind closed doors. If anything, it was the horror of watching a once friendly man barely slur obscenities through cheap vodka that changed everything for me. After he cracked about a year into the service and started to drink, my mother and I did anything we could to live a happy life outside of the 4 or so hours my father would actually be conscious in the household. I’ll always appreciate those days, the gifts and things she would make or do for me to try and raise my spirits. Truth be told the hardest part was having nobody to talk to; I was an only child and it seemed like all of my friends started to melt away from me when this all started happening with Dad. I couldn’t blame them for it; we were all just kids, what were they going to do about it? At some point they just stopped coming over to play all together. When my 16th birthday rolled around, I hadn’t even bothered inviting anyone; nobody would come, and that was fine, chances are my dad would just end up making a mess of it again. I thought to myself, “Maybe I’ll just see if they want to hit a theater or something, usually they would at least go out with me if I asked. Could be kind of fun.” It was about then, when I was looking up movie titles and times, that my father brought home the best gift he was worth: a decorated officer knocking on my door with a rolled up letter of some kind.

“Good Morning Mrs. Doxson, my name is First Lieutenant Reuter, of the CSF. Do you have a moment?” The man asked. He was massive in height; his salt and pepper hair buzz cut barely fitting underneath the door frame. I couldn’t help but idolize him to some degree. After all, THAT’s what a soldier is supposed to look like, isn’t it? That proud, strong, seasoned, and decorated man in my doorway.

“Oh… Certainly Lieutenant, come right in. Don’t mind the mess, I was just cleaning a little, I wanted to sweep the floors before Derek came home. Can I get you anything, Lieutenant?” God, my mother looked so tired. Did she even sleep anymore? She was practically pulling the Lieutenant into the doorway and forcing him to have a cup of coffee, like she had been waiting for this man to come to her door for years. Maybe she was, my mother was still in pretty good shape considering she had pushed me out 16 years ago; she was a personal trainer so, that was sort of a part of the deal. But still, the Lieutenant just put his hands up before clasping them together again at his waist,

“That will not be necessary Missus. Truth be told, this is my least favorite part of the job, so I would prefer to get it out of the way as soon as I can.” he took a deep breath, raising his shoulders a bit, my mother staring at him with a puzzled expression, “Mrs. Doxson, your husband has passed away. He was struck in active duty, and did not survive the injuries. We did all we could, ma’am, but there was not enough time. I’m very sorry for your loss. Inside of this packet are his files, and any grievance counseling you or your immediate family may requ-” the Lieutenant’s speech was interrupted by something that took all of us by surprise. My mother looked over to me upon hearing the news, and almost instantly wilted, weeping and falling against this stranger’s chest. He looked over, not realising I was sitting the in the living room with a computer, and horror washed over his face. I guess from his perspective, it was like he was delivering bad news. He didn’t know the half of it. Yeah, I missed my dad, but I missed my dad from when I was 6, dancing with him in the backyard, in my cute sunflower dress and tiny white sandals. I got over grieving for that man years ago; all this Lieutenant did was give me my life back.

He was the only hero I’ve ever known.

The scene lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and truthfully, I was sort of over the awkward blanket of misery that draped over the household for a man that didn’t deserve it, I looked over to my cellphone, and back at the movie listings; they were pretty terrible, but she’d give it a try anyway,

“Hey Roy, wanna get the gang together for a movie? Wanna at least do something for my birthday this year.”

“Yeah sure. I can pick you up.”

I remember rolling my eyes, Leroy never let anybody else drive. I fixed my hair a little bit on the couch, and checked my teeth before deciding that, jeez, I pretty much needed a shower all together, didn’t I. It was about then I noticed my mother had finally lifted herself from the Lieutenant’s shoulder, and was looking over at me, and Mom knew it when she saw me; I didn’t care at all about this, and I don’t think she could blame me either. She cleared her throat, and faced the Lieutenant once more,

“Ahem… Sorry about that Lieutenant. You can imagine the news caught me a bit by surprise. He was a good man, guess you never expect those to go away.” she had to be lying to him right? A good man? She never made any sense in public. I missed whatever the rest of the conversation was, I needed to get in the shower, otherwise I would never make it out in time to catch Leroy and his free ride.

And… I think that’s everything. Wait, no, I forgot about the rest of high school, silly me. Erin thought to herself, rotating her wrist once or twice to work out the tired muscles.

Before anybody reading this starts judging, I know that everybody says the last two years of high school is everybody’s best years, but I really feel like that was true for me. I did what every girl dreams of. I had a boyfriend, I went to prom, I got way too drunk in public, I made a lot of mistakes… God, it was just all so much fun. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity I felt so free, and nothing slowed me down. I had friends again, my mother found a new guy, and he was so great, he actually felt like he was trying so hard to be my dad, and I appreciated it so much. There are about a thousand good memories I could put in this book just from the two years after my father passed away. Like when my friend showed up to prom in a tux, and her date was in a dress, or when I went kayaking with the gang and we capsized the boat in the middle of a lake at 1 AM. You know that movie we ended up seeing the night I found out my father passed became our group’s favorite movie? It was hilarious. I’ll never forget those days. Still, when the end of senior approached, it had become evident to us that we would end up going our different paths. We wouldn’t let that happen; we had gone through so much together! When my dad passed they were all there for me, and god, Leroy’s breakup, without us he might have never made it through it.

There was a loud knocking on Erin’s door, “Hey, Er! Let’s go! It’s 1 o'clock already!” She looked at her watch with shock, oh shoot, she was going to be late! She slammed the journal shut, “Sorry, coming! Coming!”

[spoiler=Personality]While many would simply buckle under the pressure of her early teenage years, Erin is a thick-skinned gal, and has used her somewhat difficult adolescence as a chance to improve her outlook on other things. As such, Erin actually tends to be the optimist in most situations, not caring for the negative side of things, if for no other reason that she feels being positive about things creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you will things to be negative, they will come to be negative, and vice versa. Her often optimistic nature has led to her to be an extremely emotional thinker, as opposed to rational, and is susceptible to do things that a more well-thought person may not be tempted to do.

She is always quick to love, quick to react, and quick to get over things that are thrown at her, to the point where those close to her may describe the pace of her life as “a mile a minute.” Erin can actually be quite funny, in a dry sort of way, and, in Erin’s eyes, she is the glue of the group, always seeking to get the group to go out and do things together so that they stick together. Whether or not that is true remains to be seen, but this is what she thinks of herself.

BANZAI!!!! · July 25, 2016

Seems we have enough interest. OOC and skype chat are forthcoming

BANZAI!!!! · July 28, 2016

OOC is live, apps are now open.

Yui · August 2, 2016

Fine, you've convinced me. I'll get crackin' on an app not too long from now.

bury the year · August 3, 2016

Apologies for no updates on progress yet. Will try to piece something together on Friday: if no inspiration strikes then I'll bow out.

DEStroyer of worlds! · August 3, 2016

[spoiler=Life's Photographer (W.I.P(maybe))]

"Sometimes, when I'm remembering, I wonder what my life would be like if I'd done something differently"

Name: James Young

Age: 17

Gender: Male

[spoiler=Physical Description]

Height: 317.5 cm

Weight:201 Kg

When you look at James the first thing you would probably notice is his vibrant red hair, underneath is his unnoticed eyes that changes from green to hazel and back again slowly, he out consists of mostly causal clothes, being a green jacket similar to his eye colour any shirt he can find, some black sports shorts, and the necklace shown in the picture that can double as a place to hold his camera, which is small and grey. He also sometimes wears a cat shaped ring which he inherited from his aunt and uncle after they passed away on his left index finger, it looks to most people that it's holding on for dear life.

[spoiler=Personality]For someone like James, who's creativity is shown in all his work, from his photographs to tactics to little personal projects, and is his "dominant" characteristic, it's surprising how much he analyses everything before taking action, weighting up the outcomes before proceeding, his colleges often getting impatient with him. Though most of this is when he doing 'important' and 'serious' work, both terms sometimes being used loosely, when he is in a more casual atmosphere he lets loose and is extremely positive and upbeat, invading into any kind of conversation without making to much of a ruckus among the other speakers and listeners, putting his two cents in, and trust me, he has a lot of 2 centses, these include anything from pop-couture, future careers, and the things friend talk about but don't want other people to know (you know what I'm talking about), playing a good game of truth or dare, and doing any stupid, and sometimes not so stupid, challenge that comes his way, but can still show his serious nature at these times if need be. These sudden changes of personality either allow him to easily make friends or have a hard time doing so, depending on his cultural, emotional and physical surroundings.

If all that in mind, James seems like a pretty normal guy, heck even his motivation is the somewhat seemingly cop-out of his freinds and family, but that's because he never had a reason to think otherwise, his life, except maybe the meteorite, has been pretty normal, and the death of his aunt and uncle are the only sad thing that had happened in his life up to this point, and as he is already near the age of adulthood, with no other experiences he just won't know how to cope.

[spoiler=Biography]I've always had a thing for other planets, Photography too. I guess it all started when I was five, I went to may first Art gallery, it was being hosted at the planetarium so obviously it was about space and the objects that occupied it. It all amazed me, asteroids, weird plants, skies of pink, the photos took me in best, the world of the real and the make believed challenged for the first time. My mum noticed my interest in these and, shortly after, bought me my own camera, it wasn't anything too expensive, but it was mine, and I guess in a way, it sort of changed my life, that meteorite helped too I guess, but that's a longer story for a different time, all you need to know right now is that I won the change to be in a specialist program in an academy where I found where I belonged, with my friends. During this time I lived with my Aunt and uncle, they died just before school finished, although I didn't officially read their will until after graduation, and deep down, I'm glad I didn't, maybe I wouldn't have made that promise, maybe I wouldn't have stayed with my friends, maybe I would not have gotten here and be able to see all the beautiful things along the way, And even with all the hardships and deaths I've had to face, I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything.

Yui · August 13, 2016

[spoiler=Caged Bird]

"The world is a very dangerous place. It's safer to group up."

Name: Ashling Sparrow

Age: 18

Gender: Female

[spoiler=Appearance]

Height: 5'9"
Weight: 138 lbs

Ashling has smooth, dark brown hair that borders on black coating the top of her head and generally reaching just below her shoulders. Accompanying this hair is a pair of bright sapphire eyes and a slightly pale skin tone. Ashling has all the muscle tone one would expect of somebody about to enter the military, and it's clear that she's been training very hard to get this far. Her fashion sense is exceedingly normal, though there are two constants.

Her right pinky is always decorated with a small silver ring designed to resemble a snake with rubies for eyes. The ring is a tiny bit loose on her pinky, but too small for her ring finger, as if it were picked out for somebody with smaller hands. Ashling also wears a necklace ending in a heart-shaped locket, which contains a picture of her and another girl in winter clothes beneath a starry night sky.

[spoiler=Personality]
Ashling is, first and foremost, a very cautious person. Her constant caution and overpreparedness for anything borders on total paranoia. It's not uncommon for her to enter an anxious state of nervousness where she'll twitch, stutter, and act irrationally. On the whole, Ashling comes off as a very jumpy individual, which is most likely because she actually is. She overthinks things, overreacts to most of the dangerous stimuli life presents her with, and overprepares herself for just about anything. While this excessive caution can pay off if something she's ready for actually happens, it generally only means that she's got tons of crap she'll probably never use. Realizing that there's a potential scenario she isn't ready for will stress her out greatly until she's devised and acquired a means of being ready for it when it happens, no matter how far-fetched the situation may be.

Of all the things Ashling is overly prepared for and cautious about, extreme weather takes home the gold. While she is definitely wary of the world around her at all times, there are few things Ashling is flat-out afraid of. Extreme weather is an immense phobia of hers, and even implying something will happen in her area sends her into panic mode. Official advisories or warnings render her nearly inoperable, and she more or less breaks down entirely in the event that extreme weather actually hits her area. While she can be pretty excessive in her being ready for anything, her precautionary measures against extreme weather border on a deranged obsession. She knows inside and out exactly what to do in any sort of extreme weather, but getting her to rationally share the info when she's having a panic attack during the event itself can be a bit of a chore.

Breaking past the shell of jittery nerves and caution leaves you with somebody who has decided what direction to take with her life despite her own nature, but with a lack of self-confidence. While Ashling personally has nothing against the Ovid race besides the obvious problem of being in a war with them, she pursues her upcoming military career with enough zeal and passion for two. She doesn't show any signs of having a particular reason for this choice of career, and even agrees that it's a very odd career path to take for somebody like her. Aside from always being too cautious in life, Ashling is generally a very pacifistic type of person who would rather avoid conflict. Why would she sign up to kill giant alien bugs? The answer to that lies on a more personal level Ashling tries not to think about. She does it because she feels obliged to.

Despite everything, Ashling has an extremely strong sense of duty; it's one of the few traits of her "old self" that remains with her to this day. If she feels that she has to do something, she'll do it without hesitation, no matter what it may be. She once dreamed of being a police officer because of this sense of duty, in fact. This drive to fulfill her obligations saw her attention shifted toward the military instead a few years ago, and while she easily cracks under pressure, Ashling will do all she can to fulfill her duties to the bitter end. For somebody almost constantly so nervous and full of worry, Ashling has a surprising lack of outright fear most of the time. The reason why she feels obligated to join the military is a particular sour spot of hers.

Ashling feels that she alone is responsible for the death of somebody very important to her, who had aspired to join the military and take the fight to the Ovids. With them gone and their blood on Ashling's hands, she felt it was now her duty to take the job instead and do well enough for two. This guilt is the metaphorical dirt piled on top of a coffin holding an immense capacity for love. If Ashling finds that she has feelings for a person, she pursues those feelings with everything she's got. This would be all fine and dandy were it not for two little problems. For one, what she calls love is generally nothing more than her frantically grasping at straws in an attempt to restore the status quo for what her life used to be like. Secondly, Ashling's stress and nerves tend to leave her relying on others to act as emotional crutches, making her quick to cling to others and hard to get rid of once she's stuck with somebody. Being around people that make her feel at peace - even if it's just a little bit - helps to quell her jittery mindset, and be more like the person she was in the past; a person she's quite proud of.

This "old Ashling" was the sort of person who would be asked for an inch and give a mile instead. She'd fill her obligations and go all-out when others depended on her, as she wanted to be the sort of person others would look up to as a role model. It wasn't all work for her either; as a human being, Ashling still loved to have fun, and had a particular fondness for animals, stargazing, and stand-up comedy. She operated on a checklist of what she had to do, or if she'd already filled out her checklist, she'd take a break and enjoy some downtime. Of course, she remained vigilant at all times, but not in the same way she does now. It was also not unheard of for Ashling to let her emotions cloud her judgment in the past. Even today, it still happens quite a bit, but it's usually out of fear. Seldom will the modern-day Ashling get angry, but if she does, she completely loses it.

The things that anger Ashling are only two in number. Speaking poorly of dead people can set her off if done too much at once, or if the insult is particularly harsh. This holds especially true for one Shannon Alitus; speaking poorly of her memory at all has a tendency to throw Ashling onto the war path more or less immediately. Touching the ring or necklace Ashling keeps on her without very specific permission is the other fast track to forcing Ashling's anger. Her mental state is one that builds up quite a bit of stress, and when set off, Ashling is known to act on enraged impulse until she's finally finished venting her frustrations. In some circumstances, this can go on for days at a time. While she can still civilly communicate with others, an angered Ashling will be far more aggressive and impatient, not to mention flat-out hostile to the target of her frustrations. Once the dust settles and Ashling has "calmed" back down, she'll often regret her actions and try to set things right.

[spoiler=Biography]
Once upon a time, in a small and rather run-down town a couple planets down from Lucera, Ashling Sparrow was born. On the same day, just one room over, a longtime friend of Ashling's mother birthed a child of her own. That child was Shannon Alitus, and would be an irreplacable figure in Ashling's life. Due to complications in Ashling's birth, her mother would not be leaving the hospital with the newborn. Instead, Ashling grew up with her father and Shannon's single mother as parental figures. Shannon and Ashling were the closest of friends growing up. They did everything together, but as the pair grew older, puberty and hormones hit. Over the next couple years following that, their friendship became a bit more than mere friendship.

By age fourteen, the two had made their status as a couple official. Shannon was the brains of the two, and Ashling the force of action. Now more than ever, there was no separating the young couple. They'd exchange gifts, go out together, and it eventually grew hard to tell which girl lived with the Alitus or Sparrow families. A phrase Ashling liked to say back then was "I'd punch death right in the eye for you". Her fondness of the phrase ultimately proved to be ominous foreshadowing.

A massive hurricane had struck the run-down hometown of Ashling & Shannon while the parents were out of town. Ashling kept her cool and suggested the two sit it out in Ashling's house, where they'd been that day. Perhaps fifteen minutes later, Ashling's house took significant structural damage that rendered it unsafe to sit out the rest of the storm in, to which Ashling responded by suggesting getting to a nearby supermarket for shelter. The first half of the trip was rough; the girls had a tough time walking and were soaked to the bone, but they were managing. That turned on its head in what felt like decades to Ashling, but were more like five seconds.

A gust of wind had picked up. Other than threatening to blow the couple over and away, a nearby tree wasn't able to handle any further abuse. Had Shannon not noticed the falling tree and shoved Ashling away from her, they both would have died. While Ashling survived, Shannon wasn't so lucky. This was, all at once, Ashling's first conscious exposure to real death, the day she lost her girlfriend because of her own suggestion, and the moment her heart shattered. The only thing that hadn't turned to a bloody paste under the tree's weight was Shannon's right hand, which Ashling took a ring from before finishing the second half of her journey for shelter alone.

What followed was easily what was and will probably always be Ashling's all-time low. When the dust had settled, Ashling and her father were forced to move in with Shannon's mother due to the nearly-demolished state their own residence was left in. Ashling spoke to neither of them or even left what was now her bedroom for a month. She blamed herself for Shannon dying, and had no end of guilt and self-loathing over it. She'd even tried joining her late girlfriend a couple of times, but gave up after the second failed attempt. The first time she willingly left her room after Shannon's death, she broke down at the dinner table beyond consolation. In the end, it was precisely this breakdown that let Ashling subconsciously rebuild herself.

She became cautious of everyone and everything around her. Too much so, one could say. She grew extremely paranoid about the weather, and would panic if so much as an advisory was issued. For a while, it looked as though Ashling had crashed herself into a place of fear and paranoia that would shut down any hopes of a promising future. Fate had another plan, however. Five months after Shannon's death, Ashling finally took it upon herself to clean up the bedroom she'd inherited, and found a diary in Shannon's handwriting. It talked about dreams to join the military and difficulties finding the right way to bring it up with Ashling. In her mind, being Shannon's killer meant that it fell upon Ashling to see Shannon's dreams fulfilled.

Ashling signed up to enter Severan Academy a couple months before her 15th birthday. She didn't know anything about how to use a gun, tactics, or anything else one should expect to learn at a military academy. However, she studied and trained hard enough for two; Shannon was counting on her one last time, after all. While she hadn't managed to break her emotional shell of fear and caution yet, four years eventually came and went, leading up to graduation.

Durandamon · August 14, 2016

[spoiler=Braveheart]

"Hope you like my butt, cuz that's all you're gonna see until you catch up!"

Name: Alex Tudor

Age: 18

Gender: Female

[spoiler=Physical Description]

sample_3fd30f647a6d96eb46ddf1835fbee94ce

Standing at 5'5 (168 cm) and weighting 130 pounds (60 kg), Alex has a toned body which she proudly bears, her casual clothes including work out crop tops, wife beaters and leggings, albeit those are more for comfort than for showing off. Alex prefers her hair short, yet can sometimes forget to cut it until it reaches her shoulders at a maximum.

[spoiler=Personality]

A complete tomboy, Alex prefers hanging out at the gym with guys than going shopping or having sleepovers. She's a bold person and can be seen as insensitive, as she lacks a word filter and tact, saying the first thing that comes to her mind without regretting it. Always in search of a challenge, Alex loves making bets; be it lifting at the gym, racing runners at the park or something as mundane as 'I bet you 20 bucks I can chug this entire can of beer.' She does this mainly, at least subconsciously, to test other people and to prove herself superior.

This doesn't mean that Alex doesn't have her sensitive side, buried deep within. She's prone to squealing and asking to pet a cute dog whenever she sees somebody walking one, given she's not with anyone. Surprisingly , she's also a very caring person who's always there to lend a helping hand to her friends, whether they ask for it or not. She's not very good with advice tho, given her tendency to say improper things.

Alex can get violent when faced with a difficult situation, and is no stranger to lashing out at whoever's closest.

[spoiler=Biography]

Born in Lucera to Thomas Tudor and Rebecca Smith-Tudor, there was tension in her household from the day Alex's mother gave birth. Both parents well over forty, and having spent years trying to have a baby, it seemed as if this was their only chance to have their dreamed baby boy. Except for the obvious fact that the newborn was a girl. Shortly after the fact, Alex's father took a test which shockingly revealed that he was infertile all along.

Thomas always wondered why he never left after finding out Alex wasn't even her real daughter but the fact that he still loved the wife he vowed his life to and the fact that this was the only chance of being a father, shackled him emotionally to his family. As Alex grew up, his strict father imposed more and more 'masculine' hobbies and interests in his daughter. Rebecca didn't the willpower to stop his husband from turning their daughter into the son he always wanted, being just happy that he stayed with them after her infidelity.

Being a former soldier, Thomas Tudor had a very idealistic view of what being a man meant, and he shared this view with his daughter, saying 'You don't have to be a man to be manly! A strong body and a stronger heart, that's the hallmark of the true soldier.' more often than not. The strict old man showed his emotions in bizarre ways, albeit Alex didn't think much of it. During her childhood, he'd get violent if he caught Alex with a doll or wearing a skirt, much to her and her mother's dismay. The opposite happened when the young girl asked Thomas to drive her to a baseball practice or, when older, to the gym, his wrinkly face smiling like a kid.

The years went by like this, the shy and kind Alex eventually morphing into a charismatic, outgoing and loud tomboy. When she was fifteen years old, the young girl decided to join Severan Academy, taking the last step further towards being the strong-willed 'man' her father always wished her to be.

[spoiler=Misc]

Alex is one to eat healthy most of the time, but she can't resist a good can of beer.

Albeit not identifying as such, she's bisexual.

a coffee · August 19, 2016

Yui, Ghostrick, you've both been approved. Good stuff.

DEStroyer of worlds! · August 24, 2016

Finished App.

Serenade · September 6, 2016

[spoiler=Innocence, Repealed]

"Well... I suppose we could go... but what if we get caught?"

Name: Genevieve Brown

Age: 17

Gender: Female

[spoiler=Physical Description]

Height: 157 cm (5'2")

Weight: 48 kg (105 lbs)

Genevieve was never meant to be a particularly prodigious, her father was a short man, and her mother a gymnast. As such, even accomplishing 150 centimetres was quite a feat for the child. Contradictory to both her size and her sheepish personality, however, is the fierce fitness regimen she sets for herself. A daily 10K, inclined chest presses, military presses, leg curls, and leg extensions fill out a weekly schedule that provide Genevieve a surprising tone, and luscious figure, were it ever to be displayed by her wardrobe. Therein lies the problem: Genevieve is about as reticent as they come, preferring to keep her striking form under various cardigans, flowing shirts, skirts, leggings, or loose fitting clothing, as an efficacious strategy to keep attention or ire of both potential mates and other girls belonging to the student body away from her. In many ways, Genevieve’s wardrobe can appear to be inefficient; seldom is she caught in what may be described as quintessential “summer gear”, at least in appearance seeming to prefer that of an autumnal wardrobe. Perhaps only in the presence of close friends, family, or a prospective lover would she dress down, or attractively. Genevieve quite commonly interchanges between contacts and thick-rimmed eyeglasses, citing that she likes the comfort of glasses, but is worried she is going to break them. Or perhaps that is just an excuse provided to avoid her prettying up for fun?

[spoiler=Personality]

As could be potentially divined by her wardrobe choices, Genevieve is a model recluse, or perhaps it would be better suited to infer she would be a model recluse, were it not for her friend group. For reasons not readily apparent to Genevieve, it would appear the people that associate themselves with her are quite attached to her presence. As far as Genevieve is concerned, she is deeply loyal herself, and while she often struggles to express herself or open up, she always makes a palpable effort, no matter how infinitesimal, to display her love for the group. Even still, she tends to stay mum on emotional subjects, and can often be left in the background of the group's adventures, unless dragged along by the inherently charismatic members of the group. Despite her aforementioned reclusiveness, the reality of her being drawn into risque activities is not quite so farfetched; she is unearthly amounts of impressionable, and, being that she's particularly weak willed, would seldom speak against things she was against morally. In essence, one of the most apt words to describe the young woman would be "kind". She will always display manners and a positive attitude when possible, even if she is feeling particularly shy or nervous about something, if only to avoid the potential scorn of those she is actively nervous around. Genevieve fiercely avoids confrontation, so often enough she will apologize just to stop any conflict from occurring.

[spoiler=Biography]

A math teacher and an olympic gymnast formed the parental structure of one Genevieve Brown, and no matter how unlikely of a combination that may have been, one thing remained systematically true of her upbringing: dedication, focus, and work ethic rule above all other forms of livelihood. Genevieve went throughout a majority of her life without any friends or many other common outside distractions due in part to her parents’ staunch approach to instilling a hard work ethic in the child. In essence, the only thing she was allowed to do aside from study was gymnastics; keeping her in shape all the while reinforcing many of the same values that math and sciences did. Much of that changed when Erin, Leroy, and company arrived. Erin, namely, was attracted to Genevieve’s sense of style and refused to let Genevieve go until she shared her secrets. Some amount of years later, Erin dresses no better, and Genevieve is still invited to everything with irritating consistency. While the life of a lap dog to the more popular members of the fellowship may be far from the most glamorous one, she became recognisable as a consistent member, enough so to conversate with more popular guys, or appear at parties with the beautiful people. Zachariah Dower was there, and it was love from second one. Of course, she was much too peevish to mention such a thing; the only thing she knew of the word love was the dictionary definition: noun: a strong attraction or constant affection for a person. Nonetheless, good friends will be good friends, and the connection was made. Zachariah Dower was a towering, flawless, ebony male with chiseled features and a smooth voice. His hairstyle, a simple buzzcut, consisted of tight curls, colored the shade of freshly brewed, dark roast coffee. Everything about him was nearly perfect to her, and like her, Zach was a brilliant student, and an athlete. Only his charisma shined through like a ray of light, and he would profess his love for her with regularity, much to her own personal embarrassment. They spent the majority of sophomore and junior year together as the unlikely couple, much to the chagrin of other, more popular girls. These same girls Genevieve dresses conservatively to avoid the ire of, to serve as a reminder. Despite her typical reservations, Genevieve had grown to trust Zach with her deepest secrets, and the wall in which she had firmly placed herself behind to almost anyone she knew, most certainly males, had started to come down. That was what made the fact that he had been actively cheating on her for a majority of the relationship strike so deeply. Genevieve never said anything about it; she was too meek to mention it, but she was far from imbecilic; she was well aware of what was happening. Despite all of this, she trusted and loved him, she had given him everything she could give... even her body was a small price to pay for his love, but it never came back. He would always insist it had, but she knew better than to fall for his charms. There was no love there, for the two of them. It had taken the group to stand up to Zach for her to finally gain her freedom back from him, when she had finally revealed to the whole the goings on of their relations. Genevieve has been crushed ever since, truthfully, and while she is no different in her approach to life, she still goes out with her friends, studies, and does her gymnastics, but those close to her knew. It would have been bloody impossible not to notice the palpable shift in her attitude towards affections all things romantic. If Zach was what love was like, and that was how love was produced, she would be having no part of it for the foreseeable future.

Mugendramon · September 7, 2016

[spoiler=Trial By Faiah]

Just call it a gap year won't you.

Name: Manso F. Dap
Age: 19
Gender: Male

[spoiler=Physical Description]

Manso boasts a thoroughly trained body, built for power as well as endurance. Standing at 1.96m and packing 96kg's worth of muscle mass, the dude can punch a face in as he has on relatively few occasions. The frog design on his left arm is both a family heirloom from his grandfather and a pretty decent reminder that tequila is the most dangerous Terran drink. The weights on Manso's dreadlocks each carry absolutely no weight and are just for show but damn do they look cool.

[spoiler=Personality]Manso has no personality. He is personality. New in town, lookin for a tour? Manso's your guy. Got beef with anyone? He'll talk them up, he's sure you can come to terms and at worst he's got your back. Anything to get off your chest at all? He's all ears, even if you can't always see them behind the fluff.

Charisma and PR is all Manso's good for anyway- he was never actually good at dishing out punishment despite appearances. Not being the sharpest tool, experience has at least taught him that arguing will get him nowhere if he can't actually win the argument, which is most of the time. That said, listening he can do; thanks to his whole playing counceling routine, Manso is thoroughly informed about every student in the academy and a fair number of folks on the outside as well.

Now Manso might be all about being your massive shoulder to cry on, but best be sure not to lie to his face- he'll know. Perhaps not immediately, but he'll get other versions soon enough; he won't act on it immediately, but expect his behavior to change oh-so-slightly. Those who know him best recognize this distrustful phase in the exact opposite manner: a person he feels he cannot trust will receive his full attention on the very subcject they're lying about. Catch them red-handed with an incoherent response and boom, you get scolded Manso-style. You'll be totally cool with him that same night, but your chances of earning his trust beyond the norm are "as deep underground as you'll be next time you lie to me like that, bro."

Also host of the deepest hatred toward another race since the time Hitler didn't get into art school. Proud creator and user of the term 'Ovelette'.

[spoiler=Biography]

CAPTAIN'S LOG - PERSONAL CRUISER MAKAHRU - STARDATE 12.12.2568

Does this pile of junk still run? Recording seems to work normally... alright. My name is Commodore Finley Dap, and I leave this message for my grandson to find someday. I promised him this morning that when the stasis pod opened we would be at the recreational world for a family vacation.

This vessel is on its way out of the system, course set for Lucera, as far away from these damn insects as we can.

Manso, my boy, I'm sorry grandpa had to lie to you. The frog is not always ready to eat the bug. Even now the screen shows the world behind us being overrun, we would no longer be alive had we chosen to stay behind. You are not old enough as I record this, to know what this means... but I am a deserter, my boy. It might bring you trouble in the future.

I do not regret my choice, however. It is your future that matters the most to me in this life, not some soggy dirtball in space which I told the upper echelons was in precarious position toward the invaders and should have been evacuated and-

Regardless. You carry this world's future on your tiny shoulders, Manso. You and your mother must live on. Lucera is as far from the Ovid wave as I can take you with this old garbage can's drive. I cannot stay with you, they will have my head on a plate as eagely as any of the buggers would.

There is one final thing I must tell you my boy. It is about your father, my son. He has not abandoned you, he[DATA CORRUPTED]

Manso closed the log file, the same way he did every day. He felt just as betrayed, too. Mother had been there, right behind Grandpa Dap when he left that message. Why had she never told him about his father? The old 'for your own good' had long since stopped soothing his curiosity, his need to know what they were hiding from him.

Grandpa had been right, too, when he said the desertion would bring him trouble. Rather than refugees, he and his mother had been treated as outlaws- illegally residing in a world they did not belong to. Deportation was not an option, for obvious reasons; shunning seemed to have been more than enough punishment for mother. Manso did hate the way they mocked his accent and his skin colour, called him Ovidspawn at times. It stopped mattering as he grew up; some grew to accept him, others to respect him. Never once did he close himself off- grandpa dap had wanted him to live, and so he bloody would.

When the time came to enrole in the Academy, he did not hesitate for a second. It was not respect for his family that drove him down the same path grandpa had abandoned for Manso's sake, but a deep and long-burning hatred toward the Ovid who ruined his life and killed nearly everyone he knew all those years back. Good old fashioned revenge, he would tell anyone who asked, all while flashing an excited grin.

[spoiler=Misc. Info]

-The bureaucratic procedures involved in getting Manso into Lucera's school system held him back a year.

-Completely against recreational drugs. In front of his mom.

-Listens to awesome music.

a coffee · September 20, 2016

[spoiler=Trial By Faiah]
Just call it a gap year won't you.
Name: Manso F. Dap
Age: 19
Gender: Male
[spoiler=Physical Description]
Manso boasts a thoroughly trained body, built for power as well as endurance. Standing at 1.96m and packing 96kg's worth of muscle mass, the dude can punch a face in as he has on relatively few occasions. The frog design on his left arm is both a family heirloom from his grandfather and a pretty decent reminder that tequila is the most dangerous Terran drink. The weights on Manso's dreadlocks each carry absolutely no weight and are just for show but damn do they look cool.

[spoiler=Personality]Manso has no personality. He is personality. New in town, lookin for a tour? Manso's your guy. Got beef with anyone? He'll talk them up, he's sure you can come to terms and at worst he's got your back. Anything to get off your chest at all? He's all ears, even if you can't always see them behind the fluff.

Charisma and PR is all Manso's good for anyway- he was never actually good at dishing out punishment despite appearances. Not being the sharpest tool, experience has at least taught him that arguing will get him nowhere if he can't actually win the argument, which is most of the time. That said, listening he can do; thanks to his whole playing counceling routine, Manso is thoroughly informed about every student in the academy and a fair number of folks on the outside as well.

Now Manso might be all about being your massive shoulder to cry on, but best be sure not to lie to his face- he'll know. Perhaps not immediately, but he'll get other versions soon enough; he won't act on it immediately, but expect his behavior to change oh-so-slightly. Those who know him best recognize this distrustful phase in the exact opposite manner: a person he feels he cannot trust will receive his full attention on the very subcject they're lying about. Catch them red-handed with an incoherent response and boom, you get scolded Manso-style. You'll be totally cool with him that same night, but your chances of earning his trust beyond the norm are "as deep underground as you'll be next time you lie to me like that, bro."

Also host of the deepest hatred toward another race since the time Hitler didn't get into art school. Proud creator and user of the term 'Ovelette'.