Augustus Yves

The Saint.

Name: Augustus Modesto Yves
Title/Nickname: Con Amore
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 182lbs.
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Location/Occupation: A monk-turned-saint of the Sancta Monastery.


Weapon(s): Wide-bladed spear fastened across the back, ornate metallic gauntlets adorning both forearms, the sinistral lined with dragon scales (Used to manipulate certain energies later on).

Appearance: Flowing ivory robing adorns the majority of the frame, down and trailing just past the feet. Attached hood hangs over the forehead, covering the entire crown and outlining the charming features of a countenance bearing an equal combination of parts youth, experience, and allure all in one. Beneath the hood lay flowing tresses of flaxen blonde, straightened and running to the shoulders. Extending from beneath the widened robe sleeves can be seen the glimmering metal gauntlets that run to the base of the fingers, finger-tips left uncovered, the inner-side of the left gauntlet sporting draconic scales tinted a cloudy emerald hue. The inner-lining of the robe sits flushed a vivid crimson, clashing with the alabaster as it comes to run down the center of his attire. Etched upon the dextral gauntlet is a terse phrase: "Pater Peccavi" ("Father, I have sinned.") and upon the sinistral is emblazoned the inscription "Stamus Contra Malum", translated to "Stand Against Evil". A final inscription is burned upon the flat edge of the blade atop his spear, reading in bold, lucidly etched letters, "Amor Vincit Omnia."


Skills:

+Verbum Dei: Literally "Word of God." A series of abilities utilized through speech in various forms (Humming, singing, speaking, etc.)

Through momentarily increasing either amplitude (Volume of his voice) or frequency (The speed with which his utterances are made), Augustus is capable of emitting acoustic shock waves with the ability to transmit formidable strikes of energy or distort the medium which they are transmitted upon (Usually a radius of air particles). The distortions essentially work more as a defense mechanism than anything.

Technical (You can just ignore this): Because the shifts in frequency of the utterances are so quick, the increase causes a dramatic change in pressure during that instant the technique is used, and thus the wave particles released are compressed before they can expand, producing a sonic boom effect, although rendered to the unassuming as a gentle melody until the force of the wave is felt.

+Ira Deorum: Literally "Wrath of the gods", the technique consists of forming six illuminated pillars (Whose hue is dependent upon the circumstances under which they're created) composed of highly concentrated charged particle matter gathered on celestial bodies. Contained within are impressive amounts of energy held static until manipulated into an assault of some sort.

Technical (Might as well pay no mind to this part either): An attractive nuclear force (Embodied in the six draconic scales which line the inner-arm of Augustus' left gauntlet) allows for the manipulation of the pillars, which act similar to particle beams, however concentrated with a strong enough nuclear force as to maintain a colloidal form until otherwise dispersed, most often in the form of an energetic explosion. Yeah, don't look into it much. Six huge beams of light energy.

+Manus Celer Dei: Literally "Swift Hand of God," Manus Celer Dei consists of the ability to summon one of six beasts to the battlefield, each one representative of the six other saints of the monastery which Augustus himself leads, "Sancta Simplicitas". The Manus Celer Dei is essentially the culmination of the group's cohesiveness in battle, manifested through their leader. The six conjured beasts are as follows.

Chain Beast: Resembling the minotaur in appearance, the Chain Beast towers at 40 feet, residing in the core of gaia, chained down (Hence the name). Its skills are found nearly solely in brute force and strength, and very little can be said about its relative speed or agility. Aside from the fact that few battlegrounds allow the Chain Beast to effectively operate, much concentration is required to maintain it, and thus it is rarely seen.

Cerberus: The same tri-headed dog-beast of mythological lore, with a few added qualities that will be seen should he be necessary. Like the Chain Beast, the Cerberus excels in one single quality, although different in that it is the heightened quickness and agility that characterize the beast and not strength, of which it is lacking.

Entas: Similar to an Ent, it's essentially a lifeforce taking the form of a given plant (Although the plant must be present on the battlefield for it to occur) and then being manipulated into a beast capable of different abilities based upon embellishment of the specific plant's attributes.

Causa Mortis: The dragons of Cyrinus, one of Augustus' closest allies, they represent the most well-rounded beasts of the entire Manus Celer Dei. However, the summoning of the beasts often takes such a large toll on one's physical and mental being that never have they been summoned before by anyone other than their creator Cyrinus himself.

Leviathan: Only may the Leviathan be summoned in the presence of water, the beast is mainly utilized for defensive purposes. With the ability to manipulate the element of water, typically those in sight of the creature have been witness to fortifications and other comparable things made of the element.

Sola Fide: The most powerful of the conjured beasts of the Manus Celer Dei, the Sola Fide has never been witnessed by any living being. What effects its summoning entails are unknown even to the creator itself. *

History: Post below.

*Yeah, for those interested, all the Sola Fide (It's an angel) does is merge with the user one time and one time only, effectively restoring some degree of energy (Allowing for the re-summoning of one defeated Manus Celer Dei summon).

[align=center]Preface[/align]

Since the beginning of time's ceaseless ebb and flow, humanity has taken a stance which renders the human race inherently unique in the realm of organic life. But what, in essence, provides the evidence to make such audacious claims? Experience would yield to the thrashing consciousness of humanity a single answer, a veritably simple answer, but an answer nonetheless. Experience tells us intelligence creates the divide. We're told that intelligence creates the plane upon which humanity stands alone, and by all accounts of this prolonged existence within the vast cosmos, it's a validated truth. Unfortunately, man's talents in such inquiring exploits of curiosity lose their validity, however, when man must question what makes him different among himself. What makes each consciousness an individual? Some immediately chant 'experience!' and say be done with the matter. Others would assert that it is, in fact, our well of inherent traits from which to draw from that produces the inconsistent human condition. And yet others clarify that nature and experience within the human psyche cannot exist unless in tandem. There are even those who would blindly point to external factors such as skin tone or faith and claim they are the primary influence upon a person's individuality. Emotion, ultimately, interacts with each and every one rationale that can be brought forth upon the matter. Then, one would conclude, that emotion takes precedence in matters of forming ourselves as characters.

And, although some would disagree and many would vocally dispute, what can be deemed the most fervent emotion other than love? The passion behind an affinity to something, tangible or conceptually, is what truly drives the human spirit. Would will exist without affection for some level of existence? What would become of human aspiration, creativity, courage, or any of the innumerable other emotions were there not adoration and devotion to serve as our cornerstones? The answer to such a daunting question can be summed up within the depth of a single adage, timeless. Amor vincit omnia, as the Romans would say. Love conquers all.

[align=center]Con Amore.[/align]

"Now. Con amore," a rather raspy tone muttered. The words were rough and the lips that uttered them worn from so many years of making that same call. But such utterances would provide a stark and necessary contrast to the lilting melody which would soon invade the senses.

The nimble fingers of adolescence danced about effortlessly atop the fingerboard of a solitary violin, with a certain majesty unique to youth as a single figure stood alone amidst a dark stage, one light enveloping his frame. That gleaming radiance which descended upon the young boy seemed to trick the very senses of the audience captivated by the sonata which he so graciously enticed from the instrument, their stares unable to determine whether that light was descendent from the stage or rather an inherent trait to the lad. They say he played with such passionate, tender soul as the melodies drifted along into the very hearts of his audience, invigorating their spirits and pacifying their worries. And suddenly, movement came.

The entirety of the stage was struck by what anyone entranced within that moment would swear on their lives divine. A flood of light swept across bare scaffold without remorse and without sorrow as the boy moved about vivaciously, those fingers working with maddening pace now, a fury that seemed so opposed to the amorous rhythms which the instrument produced. All else seemed still for that moment. One would say that the silence amongst the crowd was enough to hear the drop of a single pin upon the floor. But such a statement would ultimately be found untrue however, for were a pin to drop onto that hardwood, divinity would have silenced its thrashing to prevent the interruption of that celestial sonata. The moment was swept away as soon as it came, the soloist collapsed upon his knees with violin in hand, brow drenched with sweat as the audience entered into a frenzy of the most sophisticated nature. Cheers and claps were rare among such aristocratic crowds, but his performance had moved them, some completely to tears. Joy, sorrow, and love performed a devious tango within the smiles, cheers and comments of wealthy spectators, unable to coherently organize themselves at such a beautiful piece. The young lad rose and took his bow as an anticipated flood of roses doused his stage.

A performance of that calibre was a thing of rarity they would say. But rarity would soon become commonplace with him. The unusual would eventually become his beacon and his bane. Such was the young life of the incomparable Augustus Modesto Yves.


Child to a divine vestal and a celibate monk of the Sancta monastery, from the very moment of his birth Augustus Yves was embraced by equal parts unholy sin and furious passion. Love conceived the boy and love also doomed his early childhood to complete ostracism. His very existence was even considered sinful among his peers, for he was born to two of God's most devout children who gave in to the allure of affection for one another before the affection of their lord. Such transgressions were deemed unforgivable and quite possibly irreparable to society, something which rendered the boy helpless.

However, for our fortunate sake, the monks of the Sancta monastery took in this child regardless of his parents' crimes and reared him. If his birth father were to be condemned, then Augustus would have another father step into that place. The lord himself. It was under the hard work ethic and devotion of the Sancta monks that Augustus acquired his unbreakable determination. To work and toil for something much greater than he would ever comprehend was a duty he took to passionately from his adolescence, and it was to providence that his labors ascribed. The early years were spent copying and studying scripture with a meticulous attention to detail carried in every aspect. It wasn't until our young protagonist reached the tender age of 13 that he was given another outlet in which to pledge his devotion: Combat.

While his savior preached a firm adherence to peace and forgiveness, it was an undeniable fact to Augustus and the Sancta monks both that conflict will never cease to thread itself through history's weave, and with conflict comes the taking up of arms for causes serving divine justice. During a period of zealous crusade, the Sancta monastery was laid siege to and the great abbot Christopher was brutally assaulted at the hands of vicious opponents to the church wanting nothing more than to end his blessed life and bring ruin upon the monastery for the sake of sheer destruction. It quickly became obvious throughout the holy edifice that self-defense was soon going to become an absolute necessity, and that further attacks could not be deterred with scripture study and good actions alone. It was under this pretense that providence shined down upon the fair monastery, and blessed were the inhabitants with skills and abilities bearing the mark of divinity. They had become connected to Heaven and the celestial bodies, and with this energy in hand, defense of the monastery could be adequately rendered.

When the second assault finally arrived at ordained, the monastery whole, with Abbot Christopher back leading the charge, waged fierce battle with the attacking zealots. Never did the good lord wish to see his creation driven to such lengths, but it was with that foolish gift of free will that they made their decisions of their own accord, and there was naught he could do but offer a meager helping hand and let such existence run its course. Barred within the monastery library as the fight raged from the outer ground to throughout the inner-chambers and halls, Augustus was given no option but to watch in horror as so many men, all fundamentally the same in composition, tore one another apart without remorse. Somewhere within the haste of the conflict, Abbot Christopher fell, but ultimately the Sancta monastery had rendered divine judgment as was requested, and the trumpets of victory played their fanfare for years to come. But a precedent had been set from the events that took place that critical year. All young students and monks that would be instructed within the monastery thenceforth were to be educated in the art of warfare and combat. The first student to receive this newly instituted schooling was a young man by the name of Augustus Modesto Yves.

It became apparent in the very early goings of the boy's combat instruction that he was no ordinary lad, but rather he was gifted with an incredible physical predisposition for matters of hostile engagement. Despite his youthful, lithe frame, Augustus had a knack from the onset for the wielding of one weapon in particular, the polearm. Seldom had students and monks ever gathered for any event, but when Augustus took a weapon of choice in hand, people congregated to watch in awe. Whether it was spear or halberd, pole or stave, he would wield it with an unerring grace few had ever borne witness to before. When it came to manipulating the rapiers and other typical blades found among his fellow students, Augustus time and again proved himself much less than an apt swordsman. In fact, he was downright terrible with them placed in his grip, but that mattered not, for as the boy was inclined to reminding his fellow students often, one is much more likely to discover a stick before finding a rapier in the real world.

As many were witness to his improving skills, at the same time none could deny his increasing devotion to his monastery and to his lord. It's often stated that it was a passionate desire to defend his home until the bitter end that contributed to his prominence in battle. He would gladly give his life should it somehow contribute to the protection and security of his monastery and his brethren. Selflessness was what Christopher had taught him, first and foremost. To be selfless was to give oneself up to the lord's graces and toil in his name, whether that toil involved merely educating a young child in the gospel, laboring in the fields for harvest, or striking down one that dared to disrupt the sanctity and stability of the church. Yes, selflessness was precisely what the former Abbot had imparted on the lad as the most important attribute. But through something besides monk teachings and a thirst for combat would Augustus learn the next most important quality: to love.

The only thing said to match Augustus' devotion to physical contest was his undying love for rhythm and melody. From the moment he had been taken into his soon-to-be monastery home, he was thrust into the realm of music, something for which he held an incredible talent. Until the age of 14, Augustus lead the boy's choir of the Sancta monastery, in addition to becoming proficient at a number of instruments during that time, most prominently the violin and cello. It was said that the lad sang with a voice comparable to an angel's melody brought to life, and upon reaching the age of fourteen, Augustus was moved up to lead the men's choir of the Sancta monastery, one of the more prominent religious musical ensembles throughout the world. Many would venture from all about the land, from all walks of life, to hear the lilting tenor or charming violin that the young man would become celebrated for. Often could he be heard extolling the many virtues of classical melodies and chants to his fellow students, encouraging anyone fortunate enough to receive monastery instruction to pick up an instrument themselves, in addition to devoting their time to the chorus.

When playing his violin, Augustus' most favored musical direction was the aptly titled "Con amore", and such would be the origin of his infamous nickname and the inspiration for the organization he would eventually come to lead, Sancta Simplicitas. How appropriate it would be, for the love he attained from music ultimately infused within his entire being and became the most significant of virtues in all aspects of his life. He learned to love his brothers and sisters under the lord, in addition to his fiercest physical opponents as well. No matter under what circumstances Augustus became acquainted with someone, he would quickly learn to love them with all his heart, even if that love was so fervent that it meant their life need be pacified to accept the lord.

Having been so devoted to his religious activities and to his love for the lord and all his children, at only age 18 there was already talk rampant throughout the monastery about Augustus being set on the path to abbotship. Of course there remained more years yet in the life of the current abbot Malcolm, but in all actuality it was Malcolm himself that continued perpetuating the rumors whenever they appeared near fading out. He had taken such a liking to the young man that there was already a strong feeling of attachment. It was obvious enough to all those within the monastery that none was more devoted than Augustus, and so he soon became an unofficial 'apprentice' of sorts to Malcolm, paying close attention to how he acted, how he conducted things, what made him of such high calibre. And together, the both of them would study the copied scripture and commentary of Father Christopher in hopes of betterment.

But upon reaching age 20, Augustus decided upon two years of pilgrimage under the suggestion of Malcolm. He would travel to the holiest cities of the world and to other monasteries and convents in search of knowledge if he was to eventually become an abbot even half that of Christopher or Malcolm's worth. It was during this journey that Augustus escaped the isolation of his monastery walls and discovered the true state of the world, and it was a reality that the young man most certainly wasn't prepared for. He stumbled into a world of sleaze, greed, corruption, needless violence, and sin. Outside of affiliated religious institutions, it seemed impossible to even find a place devoid of such transgression against his Father's teachings and fundamental principles. It comes at no surprise that our young protagonist became rather disillusioned during his time here. What ultimately caused the most heartache was that Augustus couldn't help but love each and every one of those sinful souls, but seemed incapable of redirecting them to the path of light with gospel alone. It seemed to him that his abbotship would be useless if his toil would all be in vain. But a deterrent so significant would hardly affect him at all after the events of his return to the monastery.

To this day, the stench of charred flesh and sweat still lingers somewhere inescapably in Augustus' mind. The intense heat of the flames, the sight of a beautiful monastery interior splattered scarlet, all the images contribute to an unforgettable scene. The act seemed something of commonality throughout the pages of history. Wait until the hero has removed himself and strike while the rest are weak. It had never crossed Augustus' mind that so early would he be playing the protagonist, and certainly not in a tragedy. But history seems to tell only a limited number of stories ceaselessly repeating themselves, and there can certainly be no heroic protagonist without an equivalent antagonist with which to do battle. But the identities of the rogues that had taken advantage of the monastery's weakness and razed it would not be so easily revealed. In fact, to Augustus' displeasure (And possibly that of our intrigued reader), they never would be revealed. Instead, one can only be content with knowing that our fair hero did the only thing that one of his experience could possibly do.

He offered to his lord two words in a language long dead. "Pater peccavi." Father, I have sinned.

And, for the first time in his 22 years of devotion and love for the church and his lord, a voice responded in kind.

"Fiat Iustitia et Pereat Mundus!" And with these words were the celestial bodies themselves thrown into furious motion, Gaia included as some divinity, some power greater that Augustus had ever comprehended made His presence known. Augustus' instructions need not have been spoken, for his heart already knew them in full. On that day, it was to become his unobjectionable duty to purge the world of its most devious sin, lest such atrocities should continue to permeate existence. He was given the task of cleansing the world of violence and by the grace of a fallen angel was he imbued with the abilities necessary to do so. He was entrusted with skills of divine legend, techniques that power-seekers have sought after their entire lives, graced upon him while he stood amidst ashes. The Verbum Dei and Ira Deorum were his blessings.

As if his divine ligature and dialogue with the lord himself were not enough to solidify the task, the events of the following days certainly made his mission whole. Six others arrived while Augustus toiled in reconstruction efforts, six others with their own comparable pasts and their own experiences with the lord that previous night which led them to the fallen monastery. And just as Augustus had been, they were ordained with the task of providence, to eradicate every known instance of violence that continued to contaminate existence; and towards this end they too were blessed with powers considered divine. Jader, Cyrinus, Ambrose, Lazarus, Matthias, and Francis. Each, as Augustus, attributed with the birth name of a saint. It was these six that he loved more than any other (Aside from his lord, naturally) and he entrusted himself to their care, no matter what the circumstances. The ultimate sign of his affection, for himself at least, was to give to each a title taken from musical direction, and so Con Fuoco, Con Moto, Con Espressione, Con Brio, Con Spirito, and Con Dolore were born.

[align=center]And so 'twas rendered upon the souls of seven blessed, "Fiat Iustitia et Pereat Mundus!" Let justice be done, even should the world perish. Heard among the calls of the delivered was a singular voice that received salvation.

"Pater Peccavi."

Father, I have sinned.[/align]