Horizon Academy: OOC | Always Open!

[The Republic of Atria]

Looks interesting, I'll make an app now. Is there any room for someone who is entirely made of, and can control, water?

There is definitely room for that.

At this rate we can have a team of elementals!

[Granis]

Looks interesting, I'll make an app now. Is there any room for someone who is entirely made of, and can control, water?

There is definitely room for that.

At this rate we can have a team of elementals!

Cool. Alternatively, because I just watched... a certain anime scene... again, is there room for either gravity manipulation, force blasts, or combustion? I wanna have someone who can use the always badass 'Megaton Fist'.

[Granis]

Alright, here's my app for water guy. I may end up making Megaton Fist guy later on as a second character. Let me know if I need to change anything.


Name: Joseph Moore

Age: 18

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance:


He uses one crutch, as a bad childhood injury to his right leg somehow remained in his default form, making it painful to put too much weight on.

Powers:
Hydro Physiology:
Joseph, while technically looking like any other normal human most of the time, is actually one hundred percent made of water. Therefore, he can shift his form to replicate almost anything, as long as the form has the same mass as the water of his original form. However, he can add mass to his form as long as he is maintains physical contact with external bodies of water. This power also allows him to survive practically any physical attack, as even when he is hit hard enough to crush his skull, it will just turn to water, before quickly flowing back to join the rest of his body. However, it also means that temperatures cold enough to freeze water will freeze him solid, making it near impossible for him to move, and if he boils, it becomes impossible to retain his form, pretty much converting him to a sentient, talking puddle. Salty water is also less than pleasant, as it is very itchy to assimilate.

Water Manipulation:
Joseph, in the same way he controls his own body, can control any body of water as long as he is in physical contact with it. This works by essentially making it an extension of his own physiology.

Entrance Exam:
Joseph walked into the entrance exam feeling rather... Well... Tired. He had barely gotten any sleep over the last few nights, fretting and worrying about how he would go in that very exam! Now he wasn't sure he was even coherent enough to participate in it.

Then again, at least he wasn't nervous anymore.

"Begin."

"Wait, what?" He asked, looking around the room, and for some reason only now noticing the giant robot. He vaguely remembered being told about it, but again, he also only vaguely remembered the details on how to remain standing at this point.

As he was thinking about this, the robot fired a beam of energy at him, and he used his crutch to vault out of the way. However, despite his frantic dodge, it still somehow came off as if he was being lazy about it.

When he made it back onto his feet, he turned to look at the robot.

"Well, that was actually pretty coo-"

And then the robot hit him, crushing everything except the outstretched arm holding his crutch, which dropped harmlessly to the side.

However, before anyone watching even had time to wonder if he was dead or not, the water covering the robots fist began moving.

"That was shitty of you." The water said, before disappearing into the robots internal systems. After a few moments, it twitched, sparks flying out, before slowly toppling onto its side.

Once it had stopped moving, the water flowed back out of the robot, moved along the ground until it reached the crutch, and reformed around it. After mere moments, a now completely reformed Joseph got to his feet, using the crutch for support.

"So... Did I pass?"

Optional!

Likes: Writing, reading, anime, drums, dramatic entrances, dramatic reveals, dramatic exits, water, references.

Dislikes: Social situations, hypocrites, salt water, people who say things like 'Its fantasy/sci fi! It doesn't need rules!', extreme heat, extreme cold.

Tropes:

[Danceria]

Name: “Sabas Yepisa Mulitas Dasiyapo, Undertrail Medic. Hm? Oh, of course I’m perfectly certified! I just am still continuing for my final few years before I pass my Annunciation Exam,.” (Say-bus Yep-eez-ah Mull-eeh-taas Daas-ee-yah-poh; Literally meaning Sabas of the Yepisa Clan, the Learned (a common cognomen) from Dasiyapo. The term “undertrail” means that he is legally able to perform certain complex medical procedures on his own, but also is required to do them under the view of a fully fledged Doctor of Medicine. (example: most surgeries he is able to participate in, but under supervision. On the spot first aid or combat aid, he is not required to be supervised.)

Age: “*there is a significant pause as the subject murmurs and does some calculation* ...Roughly 19 years, in Earth counting. I’m twenty in Antrumic reckoning.”

Race: Antrumic

Gender: “Male. *there is a brief pause as the speaker states something* There’s a difference…? Never could fathom the reasoning behind- er, yes, I am male both anatomically and...mentally. *this earns a rather stern look from the interviewer*”

Appearance: “I stand currently 1.24 meters in height, and weigh exactly 55.1 kilograms, fairly average appearance amidst my species. Save for one detail *he gestures to his “exosuit”, as he has come to describe* I am currently sporting LICH:EN Exoskin, it’s relatively new in terms of production. It only has a roughly twelve meter radius and allows me both protect and defend myself and any allies against a variety of hostile entities. Mostly it is used to help heal and comfort any injured allies.”
His most unique and evident feature is a cybernetic exoskin similar to this chick (save for it being silver and leafy-green) tapering over the front of his body, leaving the areas around his muzzle the only ones exposed. Along the back and his frills are much more evident cybernetic implants and containers for his many nanomachines. Rumors of the exoskin being in fact a living being is neither confirmed nor denied by the Antrumi government, though tests have been shown that sufficient damage to the exoskin results in a highly complex but still chlorophyll-like orange blood. Other tests prove that it is capable of producing it’s own oxygen, and surviving for roughly a week in the vacuum of space, providing nutrients to the encased. It’s still a prototype though, and mostly is used to defend and grasp things, along with firing highly coordinated but tiny lasers of hard light. Don’t expect him to go Big Hero 6 on your backside, as it’s mostly used for defensive purposes. Another reason is that the school enforces a “no nudity” policy, something that mildly inconvenienced the average Antrumi.

Powers: Im-Planted Armor - the armor itself is comparable to most nanomachines, but it seems more...fluid. Liquid. It is not merely a collective of individual nanomachines, but as if it were a free-flowing organ of cells, altering itself for a variety of purposes.
Hard Light - After a sufficient charge, the exoskin can emit a series of super-condensed photonic energy. Or “hard light” in layman’s terms.
Impact Absorption - The Antrumi are highly resilient in physique, and the exoskin (when extended to a minimum of 4 meters) is able to absorb and disperse impact from a variety of physical weapons. Laser based weapons require more time to calibrate a defense for.
[*]Keen Eye - Many Antrumi are renowned for their deductive reasoning, and Sabas is no different.
[*]Eidetic Memory - Likewise, Antrumic evolution demanded that they were able to recall information accurately and at a moment’s notice. Modern “flash-training” that occurred during the average Antrumi’s early childhood allowed many more to have a near-photographic memory.


Entrance Exam: “A report on my exam? Well, I must say this new exosuit performs quite marvelously!”
*Sabas clears his throat*
“When I entered, I noticed a single standard issue SPAR Droid. Naturally, it activated its plasma beam cannon in its left hand and fired four bursts. I dodged to the right, taking note of any and all blind spots that I could exploit. When I could not find any, I decided to play a mind game on a robot, a rather simple task, all things considered.”
*there is a brief pause, as the suit shudders slightly*
“I attempted to draw the machine into close quarters combat, hoping to exploit its plasma weapon. However, when it struck with it’s fist, I had to shield myself and duck between it’s legs, forcing it into an awkward position. A few well timed rolls later, the SPAR was unceremoniously doing, what you humans would refer to as “the splits”. It attempted to use it’s body and blade as a propellor, hoping to startle me and keep a distance. I threw a more cordlike-extension of my exosuit onto the plasma blade, and told it to go after the main energy circuits, and to maintain a stringy form to exploit his flailing limbs. Needless to say, my exosuit performed specatcularily, as the hapless robot was all tied up and devoured by my exoskin’s nanites, adding it’s own materials, energy, and data to my own exoskin.”
“Though I must apologize for my unorthodox methods, both rendering myself nude (as you should know, Antrumi have no such taboo. Our marsupial physiology does the concealing for us) and in technically dismantling and stealing school property. It was a rather heat of the moment decision, and the exoskin was interested in learning what “human robots taste like”...”
Optional!

Likes: “I enjoy practicing medicine, and learning a variety of subjects. Travelling and discovering various locations, though there is a beach by the ocean, you will most likely find me there in my downtime. I also enjoy food, both the consumption and creation of it, as well as conversation. In my expirience with humans, they seem to enjoy my abilities in both. Not the “I say I like your food and you talking because I don’t want to be confrontational” type of like, but the genuine “I’d never thought I’d say termites taste like “bacon”.”

Dislikes: “Engineering and mechanical studies. I don’t necessarily dislike them, I’m not as proficient as I am in medicine. Also, the cartilage upon human faces, your nostrils? They’re...unnatural in appearance to us Antrumi. Anything that doesn’t have a muzzle is slightly off-putting. Doesn’t matter how many limbs, eyes, or ears they have. On the subject of ears, you somehow have cartilage for both your nostrils and your ears...I mean no disrespect or offense to either you or your species, but overall you’re just plain unattractive to Antrumi. *he chuckles* So I suppose there’s no need to worry about me fraternizing with human females. I could go on all day about the absurdities of your human anatomy, but that’s for another day. I just have to make sure your bodies work at peak performance and survive any battle, I don’t have to like them, right?”

Tropes: Yo dawg, I heard you like links...

[The Republic of Atria]

Name: “Sabas Yepisa Mulitas Dasiyapo, Undertrail Medic. Hm? Oh, of course I’m perfectly certified! I just am still continuing for my final few years before I pass my Annunciation Exam,.” (Say-bus Yep-eez-ah Mull-eeh-taas Daas-ee-yah-poh; Literally meaning Sabas of the Yepisa Clan, the Learned (a common cognomen) from Dasiyapo. The term “undertrail” means that he is legally able to perform certain complex medical procedures on his own, but also is required to do them under the view of a fully fledged Doctor of Medicine. (example: most surgeries he is able to participate in, but under supervision. On the spot first aid or combat aid, he is not required to be supervised.)

Age: “*there is a significant pause as the subject murmurs and does some calculation* ...Roughly 19 years, in Earth counting. I’m twenty in Antrumic reckoning.”

Race: Antrumic

Gender: “Male. *there is a brief pause as the speaker states something* There’s a difference…? Never could fathom the reasoning behind- er, yes, I am male both anatomically and...mentally. *this earns a rather stern look from the interviewer*”

Appearance: “I stand currently 1.24 meters in height, and weigh exactly 55.1 kilograms, fairly average appearance amidst my species. Save for one detail *he gestures to his “exosuit”, as he has come to describe* I am currently sporting LICH:EN Exoskin, it’s relatively new in terms of production. It only has a roughly twelve meter radius and allows me both protect and defend myself and any allies against a variety of hostile entities. Mostly it is used to help heal and comfort any injured allies.”
His most unique and evident feature is a cybernetic exoskin similar to this chick (save for it being silver and leafy-green) tapering over the front of his body, leaving the areas around his muzzle the only ones exposed. Along the back and his frills are much more evident cybernetic implants and containers for his many nanomachines. Rumors of the exoskin being in fact a living being is neither confirmed nor denied by the Antrumi government, though tests have been shown that sufficient damage to the exoskin results in a highly complex but still chlorophyll-like orange blood. Other tests prove that it is capable of producing it’s own oxygen, and surviving for roughly a week in the vacuum of space, providing nutrients to the encased. It’s still a prototype though, and mostly is used to defend and grasp things, along with firing highly coordinated but tiny lasers of hard light. Don’t expect him to go Big Hero 6 on your backside, as it’s mostly used for defensive purposes. Another reason is that the school enforces a “no nudity” policy, something that mildly inconvenienced the average Antrumi.

Powers: Im-Planted Armor - the armor itself is comparable to most nanomachines, but it seems more...fluid. Liquid. It is not merely a collective of individual nanomachines, but as if it were a free-flowing organ of cells, altering itself for a variety of purposes.
Hard Light - After a sufficient charge, the exoskin can emit a series of super-condensed photonic energy. Or “hard light” in layman’s terms.
Impact Absorption - The Antrumi are highly resilient in physique, and the exoskin (when extended to a minimum of 4 meters) is able to absorb and disperse impact from a variety of physical weapons. Laser based weapons require more time to calibrate a defense for.
[*]Keen Eye - Many Antrumi are renowned for their deductive reasoning, and Sabas is no different.
[*]Eidetic Memory - Likewise, Antrumic evolution demanded that they were able to recall information accurately and at a moment’s notice. Modern “flash-training” that occurred during the average Antrumi’s early childhood allowed many more to have a near-photographic memory.


Entrance Exam: “A report on my exam? Well, I must say this new exosuit performs quite marvelously!”
*Sabas clears his throat*
“When I entered, I noticed a single standard issue SPAR Droid. Naturally, it activated its plasma beam cannon in its left hand and fired four bursts. I dodged to the right, taking note of any and all blind spots that I could exploit. When I could not find any, I decided to play a mind game on a robot, a rather simple task, all things considered.”
*there is a brief pause, as the suit shudders slightly*
“I attempted to draw the machine into close quarters combat, hoping to exploit its plasma weapon. However, when it struck with it’s fist, I had to shield myself and duck between it’s legs, forcing it into an awkward position. A few well timed rolls later, the SPAR was unceremoniously doing, what you humans would refer to as “the splits”. It attempted to use it’s body and blade as a propellor, hoping to startle me and keep a distance. I threw a more cordlike-extension of my exosuit onto the plasma blade, and told it to go after the main energy circuits, and to maintain a stringy form to exploit his flailing limbs. Needless to say, my exosuit performed specatcularily, as the hapless robot was all tied up and devoured by my exoskin’s nanites, adding it’s own materials, energy, and data to my own exoskin.”
“Though I must apologize for my unorthodox methods, both rendering myself nude (as you should know, Antrumi have no such taboo. Our marsupial physiology does the concealing for us) and in technically dismantling and stealing school property. It was a rather heat of the moment decision, and the exoskin was interested in learning what “human robots taste like”...”
Optional!

Likes: “I enjoy practicing medicine, and learning a variety of subjects. Travelling and discovering various locations, though there is a beach by the ocean, you will most likely find me there in my downtime. I also enjoy food, both the consumption and creation of it, as well as conversation. In my expirience with humans, they seem to enjoy my abilities in both. Not the “I say I like your food and you talking because I don’t want to be confrontational” type of like, but the genuine “I’d never thought I’d say termites taste like “bacon”.”

Dislikes: “Engineering and mechanical studies. I don’t necessarily dislike them, I’m not as proficient as I am in medicine. Also, the cartilage upon human faces, your nostrils? They’re...unnatural in appearance to us Antrumi. Anything that doesn’t have a muzzle is slightly off-putting. Doesn’t matter how many limbs, eyes, or ears they have. On the subject of ears, you somehow have cartilage for both your nostrils and your ears...I mean no disrespect or offense to either you or your species, but overall you’re just plain unattractive to Antrumi. *he chuckles* So I suppose there’s no need to worry about me fraternizing with human females. I could go on all day about the absurdities of your human anatomy, but that’s for another day. I just have to make sure your bodies work at peak performance and survive any battle, I don’t have to like them, right?”

Tropes: Yo dawg, I heard you like links...

I said no more interview style apps a page or so back.

[Danceria]

Name: “Sabas Yepisa Mulitas Dasiyapo, Undertrail Medic. Hm? Oh, of course I’m perfectly certified! I just am still continuing for my final few years before I pass my Annunciation Exam,.” (Say-bus Yep-eez-ah Mull-eeh-taas Daas-ee-yah-poh; Literally meaning Sabas of the Yepisa Clan, the Learned (a common cognomen) from Dasiyapo. The term “undertrail” means that he is legally able to perform certain complex medical procedures on his own, but also is required to do them under the view of a fully fledged Doctor of Medicine. (example: most surgeries he is able to participate in, but under supervision. On the spot first aid or combat aid, he is not required to be supervised.)

Age: “*there is a significant pause as the subject murmurs and does some calculation* ...Roughly 19 years, in Earth counting. I’m twenty in Antrumic reckoning.”

Race: Antrumic

Gender: “Male. *there is a brief pause as the speaker states something* There’s a difference…? Never could fathom the reasoning behind- er, yes, I am male both anatomically and...mentally. *this earns a rather stern look from the interviewer*”

Appearance: “I stand currently 1.24 meters in height, and weigh exactly 55.1 kilograms, fairly average appearance amidst my species. Save for one detail *he gestures to his “exosuit”, as he has come to describe* I am currently sporting LICH:EN Exoskin, it’s relatively new in terms of production. It only has a roughly twelve meter radius and allows me both protect and defend myself and any allies against a variety of hostile entities. Mostly it is used to help heal and comfort any injured allies.”
His most unique and evident feature is a cybernetic exoskin similar to this chick (save for it being silver and leafy-green) tapering over the front of his body, leaving the areas around his muzzle the only ones exposed. Along the back and his frills are much more evident cybernetic implants and containers for his many nanomachines. Rumors of the exoskin being in fact a living being is neither confirmed nor denied by the Antrumi government, though tests have been shown that sufficient damage to the exoskin results in a highly complex but still chlorophyll-like orange blood. Other tests prove that it is capable of producing it’s own oxygen, and surviving for roughly a week in the vacuum of space, providing nutrients to the encased. It’s still a prototype though, and mostly is used to defend and grasp things, along with firing highly coordinated but tiny lasers of hard light. Don’t expect him to go Big Hero 6 on your backside, as it’s mostly used for defensive purposes. Another reason is that the school enforces a “no nudity” policy, something that mildly inconvenienced the average Antrumi.

Powers: Im-Planted Armor - the armor itself is comparable to most nanomachines, but it seems more...fluid. Liquid. It is not merely a collective of individual nanomachines, but as if it were a free-flowing organ of cells, altering itself for a variety of purposes.
Hard Light - After a sufficient charge, the exoskin can emit a series of super-condensed photonic energy. Or “hard light” in layman’s terms.
Impact Absorption - The Antrumi are highly resilient in physique, and the exoskin (when extended to a minimum of 4 meters) is able to absorb and disperse impact from a variety of physical weapons. Laser based weapons require more time to calibrate a defense for.
[*]Keen Eye - Many Antrumi are renowned for their deductive reasoning, and Sabas is no different.
[*]Eidetic Memory - Likewise, Antrumic evolution demanded that they were able to recall information accurately and at a moment’s notice. Modern “flash-training” that occurred during the average Antrumi’s early childhood allowed many more to have a near-photographic memory.


Entrance Exam: “A report on my exam? Well, I must say this new exosuit performs quite marvelously!”
*Sabas clears his throat*
“When I entered, I noticed a single standard issue SPAR Droid. Naturally, it activated its plasma beam cannon in its left hand and fired four bursts. I dodged to the right, taking note of any and all blind spots that I could exploit. When I could not find any, I decided to play a mind game on a robot, a rather simple task, all things considered.”
*there is a brief pause, as the suit shudders slightly*
“I attempted to draw the machine into close quarters combat, hoping to exploit its plasma weapon. However, when it struck with it’s fist, I had to shield myself and duck between it’s legs, forcing it into an awkward position. A few well timed rolls later, the SPAR was unceremoniously doing, what you humans would refer to as “the splits”. It attempted to use it’s body and blade as a propellor, hoping to startle me and keep a distance. I threw a more cordlike-extension of my exosuit onto the plasma blade, and told it to go after the main energy circuits, and to maintain a stringy form to exploit his flailing limbs. Needless to say, my exosuit performed specatcularily, as the hapless robot was all tied up and devoured by my exoskin’s nanites, adding it’s own materials, energy, and data to my own exoskin.”
“Though I must apologize for my unorthodox methods, both rendering myself nude (as you should know, Antrumi have no such taboo. Our marsupial physiology does the concealing for us) and in technically dismantling and stealing school property. It was a rather heat of the moment decision, and the exoskin was interested in learning what “human robots taste like”...”
Optional!

Likes: “I enjoy practicing medicine, and learning a variety of subjects. Travelling and discovering various locations, though there is a beach by the ocean, you will most likely find me there in my downtime. I also enjoy food, both the consumption and creation of it, as well as conversation. In my expirience with humans, they seem to enjoy my abilities in both. Not the “I say I like your food and you talking because I don’t want to be confrontational” type of like, but the genuine “I’d never thought I’d say termites taste like “bacon”.”

Dislikes: “Engineering and mechanical studies. I don’t necessarily dislike them, I’m not as proficient as I am in medicine. Also, the cartilage upon human faces, your nostrils? They’re...unnatural in appearance to us Antrumi. Anything that doesn’t have a muzzle is slightly off-putting. Doesn’t matter how many limbs, eyes, or ears they have. On the subject of ears, you somehow have cartilage for both your nostrils and your ears...I mean no disrespect or offense to either you or your species, but overall you’re just plain unattractive to Antrumi. *he chuckles* So I suppose there’s no need to worry about me fraternizing with human females. I could go on all day about the absurdities of your human anatomy, but that’s for another day. I just have to make sure your bodies work at peak performance and survive any battle, I don’t have to like them, right?”

Tropes: Yo dawg, I heard you like links...

I said no more interview style apps a page or so back.

Oh...damnit.

[Doughertania]

An update. I'm home with my family for a few days before I have to go back to school. So I probably won't make a post for a few days. Just an heads up.

[Granis]

So was my app ok? Sorry if I seem impatient, but I have an abundance of free time right now, and very little to fill it, so I've been trying to use RPs to pass the time but none of them are actually moving ahead at the moment.

[The Republic of Atria]

So was my app ok? Sorry if I seem impatient, but I have an abundance of free time right now, and very little to fill it, so I've been trying to use RPs to pass the time but none of them are actually moving ahead at the moment.

Sorry dude. But yeah, your app is accepted.

Speqking of which IC TONIGHT PEOPLE!!

[New Neros]

So was my app ok? Sorry if I seem impatient, but I have an abundance of free time right now, and very little to fill it, so I've been trying to use RPs to pass the time but none of them are actually moving ahead at the moment.

It shall be fine, my man.

I apologize for my extended absence, I've been caught between working long hours, dealing with politics at said work in my free time, and what little free time was left over was spent getting pre-approval for a mortgage and then house shopping. All in all, I wouldn't recommend it, but today, I can get an IC up and such. Prepare for that shortly.

[New Neros]

The IC is online: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=420712

Basically, we can all begin at the modest dormitories where our characters are staying. Little introductions, posts, etc., and then we'll move into the next day where classes begin.

[Khasinkonia]

The IC is online: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=420712

Basically, we can all begin at the modest dormitories where our characters are staying. Little introductions, posts, etc., and then we'll move into the next day where classes begin.

Celebration!

[Blitzkeig]

signup coming soon

[New Neros]

The IC is online: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=420712

Basically, we can all begin at the modest dormitories where our characters are staying. Little introductions, posts, etc., and then we'll move into the next day where classes begin.

Celebration!

You know it!

signup coming soon

Welcome!

[WHYYYY II]

The IC is online: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=420712

Basically, we can all begin at the modest dormitories where our characters are staying. Little introductions, posts, etc., and then we'll move into the next day where classes begin.

Nice, nice.
A few questions:
What is the dorm situation? How many to a room? Are they co-ed? Are the rooms assigned, do we decide IC, or OOC? And is there some sort of standard for what is in each dorm?

[The Republic of Atria]

The IC is online: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=420712

Basically, we can all begin at the modest dormitories where our characters are staying. Little introductions, posts, etc., and then we'll move into the next day where classes begin.

Nice, nice.
A few questions:
What is the dorm situation? How many to a room? Are they co-ed? Are the rooms assigned, do we decide IC, or OOC? And is there some sort of standard for what is in each dorm?

Boy's and girl's dorm. 2-4 per room. Assigned. Humies and aliums have to share.

[WHYYYY II]

Nice, nice.
A few questions:
What is the dorm situation? How many to a room? Are they co-ed? Are the rooms assigned, do we decide IC, or OOC? And is there some sort of standard for what is in each dorm?

Boy's and girl's dorm. 2-4 per room. Assigned. Humies and aliums have to share.

By assigned, I mean like do you have a list of who's rooming with whom, or in the IC will somebody just walk into a room and say "Hey, I'm assigned to this room."

[The Republic of Atria]

Boy's and girl's dorm. 2-4 per room. Assigned. Humies and aliums have to share.

By assigned, I mean like do you have a list of who's rooming with whom, or in the IC will somebody just walk into a room and say "Hey, I'm assigned to this room."

You know what, on second thought, feel free to just choose. Makes shit easier on us.

[New Neros]

Boy's and girl's dorm. 2-4 per room. Assigned. Humies and aliums have to share.

By assigned, I mean like do you have a list of who's rooming with whom, or in the IC will somebody just walk into a room and say "Hey, I'm assigned to this room."

Pretty much, randomly assigned, just show up.

[The Republic of Atria]

Alright. The character list is made and sent to Neros. Should be up momentarily.

IF YOU DO NOT SEE YOUR CHARACTER ON THE LIST, TG ME OR DM ME ON DISCORD!

[New Neros]

Alright. The character list is made and sent to Neros. Should be up momentarily.

IF YOU DO NOT SEE YOUR CHARACTER ON THE LIST, TG ME OR DM ME ON DISCORD!

List is now operational on the OP.

[Facepunchian States]

Name: Dr. Berent Geschwind

Age: 37 (physical), 148 (actual)

Race: Formerly Human

Gender: Male

Appearance: Full body option 1, Full body option 2

Powers:

Nosce noxam sed noli nocere - As a soldier and a physician, Geschwind is proficient at both taking and saving lives. He maintains, humbly, that before his ineffective death he was a very skilled special forces combat medic and as such practiced trauma care several years ahead of that of the civilian world. He was a capable surgeon, could organize a field hospital if need be, and possessed extensive knowledge of how to improve healthcare in poverty-stricken areas with limited resources. During his self-described undeath he has laboured to keep up to date on the future's advances in medical practice and proudly asserts that his skills with modern lifesaving techniques are more or less comparable to what they were over a century ago. His ability to wield a weapon has not faltered either, and he is capable of outfighting many of his contemporaries on the frontlines with his vintage firearms and gear.

Aut cum scuto aut in scuto - Said vintage firearms and gear, along with some modern weaponry issued to him by the Horizon Academy, are always at hand - anything that can be worn or carried by him, amounting to roughly 68 kilograms (150lbs in the obsolete terminology of certain nations) of kit, clothing and weaponry can be stored in a pocket dimension at Geschwind's beck and call. This usually amounts to his personal protection equipment and tactical gadgets, along with his lethal instruments and medical gear. Individual pieces of equipment appear or disappear on his body or in hand with a smell of burning metal and plastics as they crumb to cinders or reverse this apparent spontaneous combustion.

Vincit qui se vincit - Geschwind possesses an acute knowledge of trauma care and battlefield medicine, able to save lives on the operating table or while under fire. But there comes a time when all the experience and knowledge and skill in the world can't save someone. As a desperate last resort he is able to completely remove someone's wounds and diseases, at the immense cost of transferring them to himself.

Algor mortis - Geschwind's body naturally manifests darkness and freezing cold around himself, and biological life is known to wither and rot in his presence. Suppressing this effect to the point that he is warm to the touch is a constant conscious effort, though years of practice mean this power is usually only revealed when he intentionally allows it to appear or is emotionally compromised.

Aegrescit medendo - Geschwind is clinically dead and does not seem to age. His body can survive and recover from trauma that would cause any normal man or woman to die of blood loss or organ failure, though he is far from invincible - sufficient destruction of his nervous system will kill him for good. The only thing that cannot kill him is disease: he is able to control and manipulate all viruses, bacteria and infectious agents within or around those nearby. Though repulsive to his mindset as a healer, given no other choice he will not hesitate to fell an opponent with painful and terrifyingly effective spontaneous outbreaks across their body.

Aegri somnia vana - The most horrific and versatile of Geschwind's abilities is to raise echos of the dead to aid him. Taking the form of up to six or seven skeletal soldiers from ancient and modern conflicts alike, these revenants vary in their combat ability and appearance but never in their ethereal and terrifying presence. Though who and what appears seems more or less randomized, if he is close by to a battlefield, whether it was moments ago or centuries since blood was shed, soldiers killed in that conflict can be made to appear without fail. Geschwind himself prefers not to speak of them with others, referring to them respectfully as "einherjar". Though he will not readily admit it, the souls of these animated corpses still remain and can communicate with the doctor and others, and Geschwind has taken advantage of this with some reluctance to attain invaluable information from recently slain soldiers. He claims he cannot make the souls of former enemies divulge information or do anything that would betray or harm their comrades in life.

Amicus optimus Hominis - Geschwind has a German Shepard named Ulrichs. Despite missing nearly all of his hind leg and left ear, and being almost entirely incorporeal, the dog seems to walk as if his body was intact and is as friendly as ever.

Entrance Exam:

The lights flickered overhead as Geschwind walked along the sterile, white tiles. One by one they died until only a handful remained, their muted white light casting dark shadows along the man's combat dress. A plate-carrier and tactical vest hugged his torso like a tortoise shell, anachronistic pouches and webbing as out of place and dated as a line infantryman's scarlet tunic in this emerging era of armoured full-body sheathes and spacesuits, but for him it was comforting in its familiarity. The weapons at his side were a century old, give or take a decade or so - an American M4A5 carbine firing vintage 5.56×45mm NATO rounds and a 9mm pistol.

On the other end of the expansive room a door opened with a pneumatic hiss, allowing him to catch a glimpse of his adversary standing in the shadows beyond the threshold. A single red glowing eye stared back at him, and lifeless mechanic arms clutched a gleaming firearm almost as long as he was tall. He didn't need to be reminded of what he had to do - eliminate the drone, pass the exam. Don't fuck up. He regarded the emotionless glowing lens of the drone as he ran a thumb along the leather of his mask, trying to get an idea of what he'd be up against - it was difficult to make out its armed and armoured form despite its size, but it appeared to be military. Likely a hunter-killer type, suited for long-distant or anti-materiel work with its massive weapon and visual sensor suite. Definitely not one of the sparring drones he'd been put up against before now. With a jolt he was pulled from his thoughts as his boot was lifted from below, stepping back quickly as a line in the floor began to rise out of the ground followed soon after by another, and another. Quickly a series of walls rose out of the room's white floor and walls, forming a maze of corridors and passageways in what was once a giant open arena. The walls grew taller and taller until the drone was slowly obscured from view and continued on up nearly to the ceiling.

"You may begin when ready."

Fabric straps burned their way into reality between his gloved fingers, the fire spreading until the blackened flakes drifted away from a fully formed ballistic helmet hanging from his left hand. The last few lights began to flicker and die as he put it on and secured it, flipping down the night vision monocle over his left eye just as the room was plunged into total darkness.

"The examination begins now. Good luck."

Geschwind nodded and lowered himself down onto his haunches, flicking off the safety on his rifle and chambered a round with an echoing mechanical click. The room's temperature began dropping rapidly until the cold seeped through his thick clothing and into his skin and bones, and his breath emerged in clouds through his mask. Suddenly his head jerked up and the lens over his eyes glinted with a green tinge. A shiver crept its way down his spine. Gun barrels glinted in the dark around him, their muzzles emerging from the shadows.

Five United States Marines walked cautiously out of the blackness, their claw-like fingers thin and white on the wooden foregrips of their rifles. Blood and dark tropical mud still caked their fatigues and boots as they fanned out and scanned the shadows without a word, the hollow clinking of helmet straps against bare bone and a soft jostling of ammunition pouches the only indication of their presence. One of the corpses advanced until it came level with Geschwind's flank, dropping into a crouch and waited quietly without looking up from the sights of its weapon. The doctor addressed it in a quiet voice.

"I have a job for you and your men, if you'll take it." The figures were silent, watching with empty sockets. "I promise it won't take long."

The skeleton nodded, the barest hint of a movement. Geschwind returned the gesture and rose, advancing slowly into the maze as the marines followed behind him.

- - -

He halted as a noise reached his ears. The Marines had heard it too, and silently swung their rifles down the hallways stretching out in four directions around them. This shadowy maze had them checking every nook and corner, wordlessly covering the flanks and moving in unison to clear empty white rooms. His night vision monocle threw the world into green haze of distorted depths and perspectives. They searching their surroundings for a threat and slipping their fingers back onto their triggers.

A skittering movement drew his muzzle up to the walls towering above - there something mechanical was watching them with unblinking lenses. He pumped two shots into it before it could twitch towards safety and watched the spidery thing fall limp to the tiles below, where it buzzed and smoked. The combat drone they were facing had an extra pair of eyes, it seemed, and now it had their location... that left only the question of how soon it would spring its trap.

One of the skeletal Marines lifted its rifle slightly, drawing his attention just as if it had shouted a warning. He followed its lifeless gaze to a wire snaking through the shadows of the floor up over a low wall - there was a small black box on the corridor wall about seventy metres down a hallway. The other Marines spotted more wires, more black boxes; strangely images of booby trapped Pacific islands filled his head, along with the dust and heat of Afghanistan with its primitive but ingeniously deadly IEDs. His bloodless veins felt cold: they needed to move, now.

The Marines quickly reacted, following him back the way they came. This was an ambush for certain, and going back the way they came was likely exactly what their ambusher wanted. The passages with wires and boxes were no better a choice, and at least this way they would be able to recall the layout of the maze from recent memory.

Before they got far a series of cracks sounded behind them, and in the distance dust filled the passageways to their rear. A grinding noise above them made him look up - the walls were collapsing inward over their heads. He began to run, the Marines on his heels. Was that wire some kind of extremely powerful and quiet det-cord? The way it was placed could've blasted holes in the weak areas of the walls, toppling them like dominoes...

A series of louder explosions echoed around them, and Geschwind grabbed a Marine by the olive drab sleeve of his fatigues and pulled him aside before a section of wall could slam into him and its companion who'd lept back out of the way. Dust and noise was filling the air now as walls crumbled around them, and their boots pounded against the tiles as they ducked and dodged around the rubble. One of the Marines grabbed another by his belt and tugged him out of the way of one last collapsing wall, leaving them safe in a room without a ceiling, dust clouds drifting lazily past their pant legs.

That wasn't so bad... the Marines seemed to relax slightly. They were out of the ambush. A smaller portion of the maze than he'd initially thought had been devastated by the blasts - it had seemed a lot worst running through the middle of it. Now they just had to keep their guard u-

Another explosion rocked the ground under their feet, and a pair of skeletal arms wrapped around Geschwind's waist as a body slammed into him and sent him falling backwards. A chunk of wall crashed into where he'd been standing as the room toppled around them, his gloved hands finding the back of a collar through the airborne debris and dragging it along as he tore to his feet and ran out of the noise and blinding dust kicked up by collapsing structures.

Behind them debris now choked the narrow passageways. Four Marines were somewhere behind that unpassable wall. He could feel them, their frustration and concern rising in the back of his mind. The one at his side had lost its M1 Carbine in the rush and drew its M1911A1 pistol without a word – Geschwind had managed to keep a hold of his own carbine and checked it for damage.

A noise drew both of their attention, and the Marine began walking cautiously towards an empty doorway as Geschwind covered him with his weapon. It was a second too late he noticed the wire next to the threshold and shouted "Get back!" Flinching, the Marine didn't have time to run before the wall shivered from a silent blast and began falling toward towards them - his ally was safe in the doorway and unaffected by the wires but the wall was falling directly towards him now. Rushing back through another entranceway as the wall crashed down behind him, he coughed from the dust and turned around. That better be the last damn wall to fall on him today… The door was clogged with rubble. He was cut off from his squad.

He'd been in a situation like this before, but it didn't help much with his sense of creeping dread. He wondered bitterly if whoever programmed this drone had drawn on historical accounts of Afghanistan in its preparation for this test. The long dead Taliban were known to favour a tactic known as an IED-initiated ambush, attacking isolated Coalition patrols with rockets and machine-gun fire once dazed from a massive explosive blast and unable to organize and return fire. Now he was separated from his allies, covered in white dust and being hunted.

His radio hung at his shoulder, but it'd do him no good - his allies didn't have the technology to match. They'd find him, eventually. He dropped to a knee and waited, listening. The only sound was his glove scraping against his dusty carbine, and his calm breathing. He extended his arm to switch his grip on his weapon, until his watch slipped out from under his sleeve. There, on the glass face, he glimpsed the slightest reflection of red light.

He immediately shifted behind a corner as something cracked past his head, turning to level his sights with a distant glowing eye and the glint of a scope. A few quick shots from his carbine sent it back behind a wall, shell casings clattering to the ground as he shifted position - the drone's massive weapon definitely gave it the edge in sniping work, and likely outranged his M4. He needed to get out of the long narrow hallways that bisected the maze and pressed in on either side, and back into the cramped, claustrophobic rooms where he'd have the advantage with his smaller size and more compact gun.

He stood and ran, another shot skipping off the ground inches from his boot heel. He couldn't hear the report of the weapon, making it almost impossible to judge the distance and direction of his opponent in the twisting corridors. He firing down a hallway where he'd though he'd seen a glimpse of red, muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness as he ran around corners and jumped over low barriers.

Rounding another corner with his rifle raised, he found himself staring at a massive black figure crouched like an insect before him. It turned to face him, unmoving, with its giant rifle secured to its back. The two creatures regarded each other for a moment, both of them without pulse or breath in their bodies.

Geschwind nodded in greeting and shot the drone in the face.

The drone swung wide as semi-automatic fire bounced off its hide - reckless, he noted - and missed his body by inches, but its massive steel arm had enough force behind it to tear his M4 from his hands. Unblinking he cleared his pistol from its holster and began emptying the magazine into its sensor suites and lightly armoured joints. The metal beast swerved backwards on digitigrade legs and jumped into the air, launching over a wall and out of sight. Geschwind slipped a full magazine into his gun and waited.

He couldn't hear anything, couldn't sense his allies close by. He doubted he was going to bumble into the drone again and accidentally get the drop on it. He'd wasted a lucky break. The walls rose up around him and small barriers at waist and knee height would make it difficult to run in a straight line without having to vault over an obstruction. His head swiveled back and forth, his breath echoing in his mask - he stopped breathing for a moment. A soft rapid tapping noise off to his right - it was getting closer. He leapt to the side just as the drone's armoured form came slamming through the wall with a crash, scattering tiles and dust everywhere as it turned in its sprinters crouch and stared at him with its red gaze.

The dust thrown up by its entrance was thick but that baleful red eye made itself a clear target; he lifted his pistol but before he could squeeze off a round the thing lunged at him on powerful hydraulic legs, nearly taking his head off. He ducked under an arm built like an I-beam and fired at its back, bursting a metallic cylinder that smoked and burst into flames, though he didn't have much time to note this small victory before the drone's flat fingers swept past his nose with a crackle and pop of electricity. Its hands, if not deadly enough when wielding enough mechanical pressure to crush bone and concrete, now buzzed like giant tasers.

Now he was unmatched in firepower, facing an opponent that read his every move with the speed of a supercomputer. The Marines were no help at the moment - an innate feeling in the back of his mind told him they close, but they wouldn't get here in time to save his ass. He needed to put some distance between himself and those tasers, give his pistol room to do its work - but the drone was planning on doing everything it could to prevent that. So he did the opposite.

Ducking under another gorilla-like arm he closed the distance with the hunter-killer's torso and pressed his pistol into a crack in its armour plate. A few rounds were enough to distract it and put some sense of panic in its cold circuits, reacting to the damage with a wild jerk of its body that knocked him away as it tried to get away and recalculate the situation. He was all too happy to let it back off slightly, as it gave him time to flick the grenade pin off his finger and dive behind a low wall. The drone whirred quietly for a second before the frag he'd dropped between its legs detonated.

Shrapnel tore gouges in the ceramic walls and he was close enough to the blast to have the wind knocked out of him. With ringing ears he panted for breath and lifted himself onto his knees - the dust was too thick to see right away. After a moment the hulking, twisted form of it came into view, laying crumpled in a heap. He coughed and checked himself over, still panting and dazed. Its eye was dark. Everything was quiet. Was it finished?

With a hiss and a bang the shattered black armoured plates covered it blasted off in all directions. One of them slammed off the wall and into his shoulder, knocking him onto his back with a shout - his heart climbed into his throat as the now skeletal drone loomed up from the dust and shivered like a feverish patient. Its arm came down almost quicker than he could react.

"Agh! Hh-" He thought he felt a finger or two fracture as a mechanical arm slammed against his hands, one still clutching his 9mm. Above his face a six fingered hand sparked and clawed at him.

He grit his teeth as the drone's arm whirred and strained to lower the taser against his skin, blue lines of energy crackling inches from his face. There were enough volts there to render him instantly unconscious - he wondered for a moment if enough of it might restart his heart again. The combat rush made him giddy and he almost laughed at the thought, though his muscles only screamed at him in his mind. Rushed on adrenaline, a grin crept onto his face beneath his mask as he curled his fingers around one of the bioplastic coverings on the drone's arm. He could feel the strands of life artificially structured within to render it as hard as steel - the material slowly disintegrated and rotted at his touch until the drone jolted at the damage and pulled back out of his grip to take a swing at his head.

He rolled out of the way and pushed to his feet at a run, sprinting around a corner just as the drone's metal fingers closed around its weapon and brought it to bear. A trio of rounds whistled past his head, skipping off the wall and sending chunks of hard ceramic scattering to the floor. They weren't bullets or energy weapon blasts, but they would kill a man under normal circumstances and would certainly hurt him as much as any gunshot wound. In a real combat scenario, with a hunter drone firing its weapon at full-auto, those "training" rounds would tear him apart on a direct hit until his nervous system was irreparable. He would experience death for a second time.

Rounding another corner and reloading, he realized he was more or less lost. It was almost impossible to keep track of the maze the examination room had become, and he'd gotten separated from the marines in the rush to escape. Racking his brain for a plan he peaked back around the corner and fired off a few rounds from his pistol to keep the drone from getting a clear shot at him and making its cold rational processors think twice about following him out into the open. He also caught a glimpse, before it skipped back behind cover, of its now lopsided form - it was missing an arm. The grenade wasn't completely ineffective, but it wasn't out of action yet. And it could still fire its giant rifle.

As if to prove the point the drone, to his surprise, held its bulky weapon out into the passageway to fire blindly at him and forced him to duck back or face a mouthful of shattered jaw. Giant plastic slugs impacted into the wall to his right as the implication quickly sank in: this drone wasn't as predictable as he'd thought if it would blind-fire at him to keep him suppressed behind cover. At times it acted like a single-minded, soulless killer, then switched into a reckless desperate mood not unlike that of an untrained, nigh-suicidal insurgent. It was eerily human. As the firing lulled for a moment he felt a claw-like hand grip his shoulder.

He looked over to see the grinning skull of one of the Marines looked back at him, two of its compatriots moving past to step out into the hallway and begin firing their antique rifles with deafening cracks. The drone stuck its rifle back out as bullets whizzed off the walls and fired another series of shots, one of which smashed through one of the Marine's ribcage and sent shards of bone clattering to the floor - if the corpse felt anything, it didn't show it. Their M1 Garands proved to have the edge in firepower over the sleek drone and its training rounds as thirty-aught-six bullets began glancing off its steel hands with showers of sparks from damaged circuits, driving it back behind the corner before any of its fingers could be blown off. With a triumphant ping one of the Marines emptied its clip and began to reload as the other kept up the suppressing fire. The one at Geschwind's shoulder nodded and moved past him to join in, leaving him to back away into the empty hallway.

He peeked around another corner and found the last two Marines waiting from him, crouched behind a low wall that came up to his waist. He motioned for them to follow him. They silently fixed bayonets as he readied his pistol and broke into a run.

His plan was risky, but US Marines didn't mind a little risk. It helped when you were dead and probably couldn't feel pain, but all the same... Geschwind did some quick mental cartography, ran down a corridor and then down another, then pulled the pin out of his last grenade and tossed it around a corner before ducking past the hallway. The drone whirred behind them as it strained its servos putting distance between the frag and its exposed frame before the explosion rocked the walls. He could hear its mechanical movements through the walls as he ran towards an open place the Marines had found in their search for him. All he needed was the right timing, and a bit of luck...

A giant arm swung out from around a corner, driving into his chest and slamming him into a wall. Geschwind gasped, the breath exiting his body as darkness swallowed up his vision and he fell limp to the floor. The two Marines halted and raised their rifles, glancing between the massive hunter-killer and the medic lying on the floor before taking a step back hesitantly. Their leader wasn't moving. The drone slowly loomed up to its full height and stared at them emotionlessly. They had nothing to fight for here anymore. Geschwind was finished, defenceless. There was nothing they could do now.

Except serve as a distraction. A .30 Carbine round pinged off the drone's red eye, and an arm wrapped around its neck as a boot drove into its gut. Geschwind drove his knife into that gleaming red eye as the drone toppled backwards under his sudden weight, gritting his teeth as electricity snapped at his fingers below the rubber handle he was driving into a mass of circuits. Pulling it back out he rammed it in again as metallic fingers clawed weakly at his tactical vest, glass cutting his fingers before he rolled out of the way. The Marines stepped forward to begin pumping rounds into the fallen drone's still twitching form.
Finally the last empty magazine fell to the ground and the echoing gunfire died away, leaving only silence. The drone whirred weakly and shivered, before laying still. He breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed that one thing that never went out of style in this world of killer robots and space travel was a simple and effective six-inch blade. Geschwind tugged his knife out of the drone's eye socket and rose unsteadily to his feet as the lights began to flicker back on. One of the Marines, the one who'd lost its M1 Carbine in the ambush, handing him his M4.

The blade in his free hand felt heavier than normal - it was meant to be a last resort. It was an essential maxim to live by that every fight should teach you something, and whoever had designed this entrance exam had certainly been pushing the boundaries of what he could do. The hunter-killer drone was virtually immune to his life-rending diseases, skilled enough to isolate him from his soldiers. It had disabled his weapons and made him think hard to survive.

He'd harboured his doubts about this Academy and the rise of young and reckless superheros like he'd seen in old comic books or movies. He'd wondered whether or not he'd be better off trying to make an impact on his own. But that fight had made him think once again in terms of what a team could accomplish. If that had been a real fight he would've escaped by the skin of his teeth at best. If he'd been alone in such a life or death situation, that would've been the end of him. He turned to look at the five Marines, who slowly lowered their rifles.

"Much appreciated."

Each of them gave a slight nod in turn as he looked at their empty skulls, stepping back with careful, even steps into the shadows. Soon the last glints of light reflecting off of their rifle barrels faded into the blackness, and Geschwind lowered his head and let out a shaky breath. The lights flicked back on as he came slowly back to reality, feeling as if he'd been living in a dream for days, even weeks - he looked down at the watch on the inside of his wrist and noted that less than two hours had past.

"Examination complete. Please proceed to the exit once you are ready." Geschwind looked over his shoulder as a door hissed open, putting his weapon back on safe and making his out of the examination room.

Name: Snorri Hjelvik Magnusson, stage name "Skáld"

Age: 28

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance: Full body, Ragnarøkkr, METALZILLA

Powers:

A Touch of Evil– If his approach to life wasn’t so laid back and enthusiastic, Magnusson would definitly still be deeply concerned about being possessed by an entity best described as an insane murderous demon from Hell. While unsure if this unwelcome guest is an extension of his subconscious, an alien creature of immense power, or an actual supernatural fiend bent one destruction in the name of Satan, what he does know is that the presence inside him makes itself known quite often and all but takes over in battle, when satanic markings scrawl themselves along his body and his eye glow red. The demon’s personality often bursts to the surface and influences Magnusson’s, giving him an affinity for alcohol, cigars, explosions and other things he usually only consumed in reasonable amounts. It also causes random outbursts of nonsensical homicidal glee and unnecessarily loud declarations of machismo. The demon cannot manifest in the real world without Magnusson's permission or take an innocent life, as a result of the pact he negotiated with it - when in reality it most often takes the form of a massive battleaxe or sword, though its true form can emerge temporarily at the cost of using the Skáld's body for the task. Magnusson maintains that the devil is really an alright guy once you get to know him.

Hell Ain’t a Bad Place to Be – Visitors to the fiery pocket dimension Magnusson can create may agree, though others can be put off by all the fire, brimstone, rivers of blood, demons, agonized tortured souls, etc. that populate the landscape. This is the source of Magnusson's powers and the home of the demonic spirit haunting his mind, easily accessible through portals he can open at will. The lightening, freezing cold, devastating hellfire and blasts of unholy heavy metal sound that can be summoned through his guitar are all extensions of this realm's very nature, and their firepower in battle is supported by Nine blood-soaked Circles of demons willing to lend their powers to Magnusson's aid - the most powerful of which, other than his own personal demonic possessor, is the mighty METALZILLA which can be summoned forth but once a year to wreak havoc upon the unfortunate and greasy Enemies of Rock. Magnusson's miniature hellscape is also a great place to relax and unwind, at least for him. He often will open a portal for an hour or two to sneak off and take naps.

Til Valhall! - Ragnarøkkr is a ornate and irate instrument of doom and destruction. This Flying V guitar is Magnusson's pride and joy and his primary source of unleashing the powers of Hell itself - the ancient Norse runes and satanic power infused into its cursed surface allow his music to carve pentagrams into the fabric of reality and summon forth portals to Hell, or transfer the power of his riffs into deadly lightening, devastating fire, and soundwaves capable of shattering mountains. It is sturdy enough to beat things over the head with and aided in this endeavor by the hellish boost to Magnusson's strength and dexterity whenever he is infused with the power of his demon and plunged into a berserker's battlerage.

Entrance Exam: WIP

"So, Hjelvik, how long did your examination take?"

"Two minutes... tops."

"I'm sorry, what? Two minutes? I took two hours!"

"Rocked it. Fast and hard man, fast and hard."

Long story short I focused way too much on the one entrance exam and haven't finished the other. Been busy or out of town for a few days, but I'll finished Snorri soon enough. Let me know if anything needs clarification or editing.

[Rupudska]

"Two minutes? Please. I finished mine in thirty seconds."

[Sky-TheLandOfNekos]

So...

I've got a sole survivor of a mass extinction event, who happens to have an A.I. in her head with a sadistic side.

-Female

There's the arrogant Noble who uses superfire and plays a devilish role.

-Male

Then we have our psychopathic narcassist whose power let's him learn just about anything on contact, and enjoys playing nutcracker with skulls.

-Male

Who wants to be roomies?

[Granis]

So...

I've got a sole survivor of a mass extinction event, who happens to have an A.I. in her head with a sadistic side.

-Female

There's the arrogant Noble who uses superfire and plays a devilish role.

-Male

Then we have our psychopathic narcassist whose power let's him learn just about anything on contact, and enjoys playing nutcracker with skulls.

-Male

Who wants to be roomies?

Well, Joey is pretty shy, and he's made of a kind of 'hard' water... I reckon I could room with your fire guy...