Description

Group 2

Character is WIP

Type: Light

Gender: Female
Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Jo, "Jo-jo" by those who want a mace in the ass.
Age: 19

Appearance: Fresh from adulthood, she bears the body of a 16 year old. Though if you dare to tell her that to her face, expect a broken jaw, or in the very least, some unpleasant bruises. Rivers of long pearl hair frame her brittle physique, flowing in locks of straight silk that stop at her hips. She wears nothing but dresses, as she hates the restrictive binding of pants. Remarkable blue eyes blink under a lengthy wall of thick lashes, and the innocence displayed on her winsome face could draw in even the most heartless buffoons.

Height: 5'2"
Weight: 108 lbs
Eye Color: Sapphire blue

Notable Features: More often than not, Josephine is seen with a single flower tucked behind her ear. She carries very little with her when traveling, as she finds herself losing her most valuable possessions.

Personality: Cute? Perhaps. But the moment you see past those sapphire eyes, you meet a maleficent glance from nothing more than a hot-tempered little girl. Honestly, she is a good person at heart. Perhaps in the heat of things, she loses her way and runs hand-in-hand with her indignant personality. Past the psychotic dwelling anger of a young adult with a critical past, you'll find a spirited child at heart. She adores fashion, and is often faced with an inclining obsession with bunnies and the likes. However, piss her off and you'll never hear the end of it. And she's got more to say than you can imagine.

Likes: Bunnies, lace dresses, tea and tea sets, scrimmages and 1v1s
Dislikes: Pretty much every person she's ever met, and dogs.
Hobbies: Picking fights - Oh how she loves to toss her mace around.

Fears/Phobia(s): Like most young girls, Josephine has an irrational fear of pests. From spiders to snakes and everything in between, she'll shriek in sheer terror and run to her nearest savior until the beast is vanquished. However, her greatest fear is her most critical flaw. She fears the dark.

Powers: Healing and restoration.

Weapon: Her weapon of choice is a simple blunt mace, with intricate custom carvings on the handle. Though she can't deal damage with a magical spell, she refuses to sit back and watch the battles go by. Josephine is keen in combat, and focuses the majority of her rage and desparity through her mace. Her ability to bring down a target is noteworthy, especially coming from such a feeble body.

Personal History: (Full paragraphs, please) Josephine was born a mage, and discovered her powers at 8 years old. Her despair began one evening during a family trip back from a relative's house. As was expected on a snowy day, the ice was slick and unprepared for the frozen terrain, the car collided into a semi-truck traveling the opposite direction. Josephine's younger brother, Ethan passed away immediately. The snow was dampened with splotches of red, like a pen broken over clean paper. It was a sight that would linger in her mind forever. Josephine's father was unresponsive, and was taken away in critical condition. She and her mother were the only ones capable of walking away from the accident. Heart broken by the loss of her only son, Josephines mother turned to alcohol to sooth the unbearable pain. Josephine was left alone to care for her mother after drunken outings, or when she became sick and passed out in the kitchen, as she did most nights. Afraid and desperate, Josephine left the house empty one day and traveled a great distance to the hospital that her father stayed at. He remained in a vegetative state during a great majority of her visits. Often, Jo would hold his hand - something she wasn't used to, coming up in such a dispassionate family. However, one day in particular, her mothers lashing had left her with a brutal emotional scar. She prayed for her father to wake up, and with his hand held tightly in hers, she felt a physical serge leave her body and envelope him in energy. When she opened her eyes, he was awake, alive and staring at her with a groggy and confused expression.

She told her mother about the experience, and after many attempts to persuade her, she managed to instill the idea into her mind by bringing back an entire jaw of lady bugs that had been suffocated minutes before. How ever, the reaction she had gotten was not the one she was looking for. Her mother lashed out at her, demanding an explanation as to why she couldn't save her own brother's life. "You kill Ethan!" She'd scream at the top of her lungs, tossing empty wine bottles at the frightened young girl. Her mother was leaning on the verge of insanity, and after only a month out of the hospital, her father took his belongings and left his daughter behind. She was referred to as the "devil child" and locked in the family cellar with no food our water for 3 days. It wasn't long before she was found, her mother strung out dead along their family's pricey Victorian sofa.

For years, Josephine managed to live off of wages collected from working in fast food. From there, she was offered a job as a commercial actress. And as quickly as her young career had escalated, it soon plummeted too, leaving her homeless and broke. She was directed to a local guild - one that took shelter in an abandoned warehouse. They told her she'd have food and warmth, which was all she could ask for. In return, she'd get to vent her anger in training and guild battles. Soon, all of the pain that she had collected during her struggle would be unleashed, and all in fair sport. She was awarded a mace, created specifically for her body type. It was heavy, but it fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. She trained for hours upon hours, building her physical endurance. Though she was expected to step into the cowardly shoes of her support role, she refused to practice her healing capability and continued her physical training. However, regardless of her efforts, she was never able to overpower her peers in a friendly duel - something that etched a sorrowful inscription on her already-wounded pride.

Theme Song: No light No light - Florence + The Machine
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away

And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
No light
Tell me what you want me to say

Would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done?
And would you need me,
If I told you what I've become?
'Cause it's so easy,
To say it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love,
To say it to you out loud

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away

Other: Anything else that does not fit in the app, stick it here. WIP

So begins...

Josephine Margaret Gwin's Story

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Setting

2058

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Josephine Margaret Gwin

Character Portrait: Castor Genadi Addens

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#2014-06-09 22:26:40, as written by PoBeeb

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3 PM

"43 versus 32." He tugged at his silver beard, bearing a wryly smile on his ragged leather skin. His threadbare clothing hung from his torso as the old man hunched forward, a heavy gargantuan axe resting upon his muscular shoulder. "You all know the drill." His grin was gleaming with enthusiasm, anticipating the violent scrimmage. "Fire and earth on the right, water and air on the left. Everyone else, stay in the middle. And support, by any means, stays in the back. Do you understand," His wrinkled grey eyes quickly shot a glance in her direction. "Josephine?"

She scoffed at her decrepit old guild leader, plowing the earth beneath her feet with the drop of her hefty mace. Support stay in back. She mocked, glaring off into the horizon. She hadn't belonged to the guild for more than 2 months, and had participated in only one small guild battle. In that time, she had almost been pulled out of the fight due to her incapability to continue her roll as support. She wasn't the "stay back", "stay sheltered" type. She wanted to crack skulls and spit fire, like all of the other stupid mages.

However, one of the major rules in guild scrimmages were "No killing". If it had been considered a war, blood would be shed on both sides. Evidently, one stands as sport, while the other is simply a way to settle conflict. There was no need to start a Guild War over a nice pad and a steam shower. At least, that's what some of the other guild mates had communicated to Jo.

The Alternate Dawn - a guild full of angsty fighters with a lust for hand-to-hand combat, and lead by the prominent wizard Abaloft. The guild - unlike many others - was composed of all types of mages, settling as a home for misfits and oddballs, and those without a full grasp or comprehension of their own powers. Abaloft welcomed all, and hovered over the guild of 32 like a father over his troublesome litter.

Josephine had developed a bit of a soft-spot for the old man, who though, peaking at a ripe 70 years old, remained in amazing physical shape. He was an unsurpassable air mage, who could take even the strongest guild mates down with a single gesture. She envied his otherworldly powers, and though she didn't agree with 90% of his logic, she bit her tongue in times of dispute.

"We're back!" Two members of the guild approached, carrying bags full of cheap food. It was tradition to feast before a scrimmage - Abaloft called it good luck. Josephine felt nauseated at the scent of raw meat, and wandered off towards a scare crow that sat towering over the field. Scrimmages were usually held in the battle center of the larger guild hall, but seeing as TAD was a small guild without many funds or resources, and the opposing guild refused to host the battle, the guild was forced to meet in a local wheat field. The bid was over a multi-million dollar under-ground facility that the opposing guild had won in a previous scrimmage. The idea of leaving the run-down rat-infested guild hall that TAD currently owned was a thought that weight heavily on Josephine's mind, and it was in her best interest to do as her guild leader said and stick to her support roll as a fragile healer. The idea pissed her off, and with a quivering growl, she sent her mace smashing into the hay-stuffed skull of the rugged scarecrow.

After many failed attempts to remove her mace from the splintered wood, she sighed in defeat and sat in the itchy dry wheat, watching as the fire mages focused their powers intently on cooking the raw chicken. Others sat or laid sprawled out in the grass, guzzling down cans of cold beer.

"It's hot." She groaned, shielding her eyes from the sun. Immediately, a shadow stepped in the way, freeing her from the fierce heat.

"Castor," She whined, hugging her knees to her chest. "Bring me a drink, will you?"

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#2014-06-10 05:36:06, as written by moahi

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3 PM
Tsuki stood in a corner, silently watching as the rest of the guild “feasted” or so they called it. It was hardly considered a feast anyway with all those food, but it was definitely better compared to what they usually had. “Everyone else, stay in the middle.” She murmured to herself quietly, repeating what the leader had just said. Being quite new to all this, she was unfamiliar with the fights they wage against each other. Seems like it was just a few days before that she had been surviving, putting on covers and learning how to strengthen them. Now that she was thrown into the fray of all this, she was not sure what to feel about it. Personally, she had never killed a person before, and even if she did it was for self-defense. To kill someone out of intent alone was a mystery to the young girl. She looked out from her shaded corner at the rest of the guild eating and drinking, and decided that she would not venture out of the shaded spot. The sun was too bright and hot shining overhead like that, and she knew her powers would be weakened considerably from that. She would rather stay in the area where it’s dark, where she will be safe. She cast a glance at the only odd ones out in the guild. One of them was a girl, with long, flowing hair and wearing a pretty dress. She seemed to be sitting down and asking another stranger for something.

Tsuki slid into a sitting position after examining them. The girl looked about sixteen, but she looked scary enough. Apart from the fact that she was probably a light mage, which she always steered clear of, she was also armed with a mace, and she looked like she actually wanted to kill people. Better stay out of her way. Sneaking into the shadows when no one was noticing was her specialty, after all, and she had no doubt that she would probably be overlooked in her black dress. She tucked her knees to her chest and put her head on them, rocking back and forth. It was one of her methods of calming herself when she felt insecure in a new environment. “I wonder what my first battle will be like.” She wondered aloud.

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#2014-06-12 07:11:59, as written by Beach-Born-Boy

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3 PM

Cecil smiled as he watched the wind roll off stalks of wheat, the endless pulsating pattern creating waves over what seemed like the very earth. The colors seemed a bit off, but all the light off of the golden plain made the rest of the world a bit more beautiful, as if in a sepia tone. His eyes still hadn't adjusted well enough, despite the years of quickly putting them on as he had called it. The almost blank, milky gray orbs seemed to dart this way and that, their blindness forgotten for the moment. Born blind, Cecil always appreciated his power, taking the reflecting light of the world and filtering it through his once useless eyes via his magic, even if it was a bit different from how his guild mates described seeing what he "saw".

It wasn't until one of the younger members held a freshly roasted leg of chicken in front of his face that Cecil moved from his solitary and stoic position. "Here Gilgamesh," The young man said. "Freshly cooked, just how you like it." Cecil smiled, pulling his mask down and letting his hood fall, revealing his mid-back length, raven black hair. With a smile, he took the meat and patted the boy on the shoulder, sending him to run the same errand for the others in their rag-tag group of misfits. With his food in his mouth, Cecil began to observe the others. Staring at the group in front of him, he saw a mixture of colors. Red, blue, black, yellow, all of the people waiting on the other side of the field radiating a color ever so faintly that corresponded to their mage type.

"You all know the drill. Fire and earth on the right, water and air on the left. Everyone else, stay in the middle." Cecils gaze drifted to his guild master, a wizened old man by the name of Abaloft that radiated a yellow blaze from what seemed like every pore of his body."And support, by any means, stays in the back. Do you understand? Josephine?" It wasn't until Abaloft had mentioned her name that Cecil discovered the spit-fire he had recently taken a liking to was missing. He didn't have to look far to find the rare white aura further out in the field. He recognized it because it was the same bleeding color that he'd seen every day since he'd made himself able to see. He walked calmly to her and stood behind her for a moment before speaking.

"Jo. Are you ready to get moving?" He asked between gnaws on the bone of what was previously his meal. A moment passed before he glanced back at the Alternate Dawn, already forming rank and file according to Abaloft. "Old fool." He thought to himself. "One of these days, he's going to get us all killed." While Cecil's distrust of nearly everyone extended to Abaloft, no one could deny that the young, blind mage at least had some respect for the warrior, if not the power he wielded. However, no matter the occasion, Cecil "Gilgamesh" Rhodes, the flurry of a hundred hands, was always itching for a good fight.

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#2014-06-14 06:23:49, as written by Beach-Born-Boy

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3 PM

Cecil put his hand on her head and smiled, the long tattoos down his face scrunching up as he did. "Well you want to fight right? Can't do that from here." Cecil took his tattered hoodie and draped it over Josephine's shoulders, the large hood easily covering most of her face. The cloth fell over her eyes and most of her nose before finally stopping. With a sigh, he removed the hoodie and draped it back over his own shoulders. "No that won't work," He mused aloud. "I guess I'll just have to stay back and make sure you stay alive Jo-jo." He finally said, his face as expressionless as stone. On the inside though, Cecil was always pleased at taunting Josephine. After all, she was one of the two people he actually trusted still, and with the other being far away, he had to make Jo work for it.

He flagged down the nearest chow runner for some food for Jo, aware and uncaring of the no doubt impending mace attack. He allowed himself to go blind for the moment, instead focusing all the light pouring down around him onto his dead side, the side that he knew Josephine's attack would land. As he plucked the bone from his teeth and threw it into the wheat, he grabbed another leg of roast chicken and handed it to her. Here, eat, He said nonchalantly. "Keep your strength up. We'll be starting soon and the old man will need all the help he can get. He's powerful, not invincible."

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#2014-06-15 04:25:45, as written by PoBeeb

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3 PM

Josephine reached into her pocket, slipping out a slender piece of glass. Dainty polished fingernails tapped against it, and a clear hologram image popped up, revealing bright letters that flashed "3:13".

"Call me Jo-jo again." She threatened, ignoring his offering of freshly cooked chicken. She couldn't eat meat from the bone anyways. Just a reminder of how cruel human beings were. She preferred the oblivious approach to carnivorous eating.

"Castor." She tilted her head back, immediately meeting his earthy reptilian eyes. "Beat him up, will you?" Her childlike plea was nothing more than a persistent annoyance, and she was well aware that he wouldn't comply. However, often in situations of boredom she found herself asking him for things. Perhaps it was simply to get a reaction out of such an inexpressive man.

3:14. The time ticked on, and in the pit of her stomach she felt anxious. The well-fair of others was on her hands today. She squeezed her small fingers around her mace, wondering if it would be a useful tool, or if she'd remain nothing but a petty nurse for the entirety of the battle.

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#2014-06-15 04:57:51, as written by Kilgannon

New Eden City | Rural Fields | 3:14 PM

Castor merely regarded her with a disinterested glance as she requested that he retreive something to drink for her. She knew him well enough at this point to know that he shrugged off petty favor she asked of him. He blatantly ignored the exchange between her and the blind one known as Cecil. Not that the blind one had recognized he was there in the first place, he seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that Castor was standing directly behind where she sat. He hadn't realized that blindess enabled ignorance.

As those two exchanged their brief, but pointless banter, Castor busied himself with surverying the area around them. The guild members were scattered across the field they found themselves in, most on the outskirts, while the three themselves were more in the middle of it all, standing and sitting next a scarecrow that had a mace thrust into its undeserving face. Those on the outskirst were busy getting the 'feast', as their leader had called it, ready. Some kindled fire, others prepared the food and refreshments.

He wasn't entirely all that eager about the fight, he never was, really. But fights, and especially winning them, meant better living conditions, better food, better everything. His hand found itself naturally resting on the hilt of his rapier as Cecil began to touch Jo, his fingers curling loosely around the handle. He didn't have anything against Cecil, no, but it was a basic protective instinct that had been ingrained him since the day he had brought Jo into the guild. She was his responsibility.

He looked down at her as she asked him to beat Cecil up, and he turned his glance to Cecil, the smallest of smirks spreading across his face. His removed his hand from the hilt as he circled around to the front of Jo, placing himself directly between her and the blind one. His hand loosely wrapped around her free wrist and he gently pulled her to her feet.

With his hand still around her wrist, he pulled her along behind him, veering left to curve around Cecil and leave him behind them.

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#2014-06-16 16:15:17, as written by moahi

Tsuki continued to watch from her corner, wondering if she should approach them. Probably not, that wouldn’t be her best choice for survival. That girl seemed to have many friends though… she watched as one of the men pulled her away from the other one, seemingly blind. I wonder if I’m jealous of her… she thought to herself. She never did have a close relationship with anyone from her life on the streets. It was too dangerous, you’d never know who might just betray you and leave you to die. It took great will power just to survive out there at such a young age, but she did it with many close shaves. Mostly, her policy was to get out of everybody’s way and mind her own business, but she can’t help admiring people who are popular and could get along with each other. The time of the battle was drawing closer and closer, and she didn’t like it. “I could always have the double take over though…” She muttered quietly to herself. She was never very good at hand to hand combat, and always ended up sneaking away in the shadows while she used her doubles to buy herself some time. This had worked relatively well, but she was unsure about how it would work in an actual battle, with hardly any places to run. Might as well enjoy herself before the fight. She got up with a sigh and walked out into the clearing, a little hesitant about stepping into the light.

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#2014-06-22 04:22:54, as written by Beach-Born-Boy

Cecil sighed as he listened to the others get up. Though still blind, his hand shot out in front of Castor and his eyes met the fire mage's, the dim and nearly pupil-less blue shades meeting an equally unsettling shade of light green adorned with a black slit. "Castor," Cecil said, his smile replaced with a stony expression so very unlike his normally upbeat nature. "I know I don't need to remind you again, but I will. You make sure Jo stays in one piece, got it?" Without waiting for a reply, Cecil stood, hoodie in one hand and the bone from his second leg of chicken in the other and made his way to the front of his guild, next to Abaloft. "Well old man? Isn't it about time we started?" He asked with a sly smirk as he draped the tattered cloth back over his shoulders.

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