RELIEF ISN'T ALWAYS BLISSFUL - open; helmet

[rhosmari]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px; color:black;"]The sun was starting to set, casting the sky in brilliant oranges and reds, some soft and mellow pinks bleeding through. It could have been described as the sky bleeding but then again that would be too morbid for some. Her eyes were a little hollow today, probably because she wasn't getting enough sleep again though when did she ever actually sleep? She hadn't sense she had been reborn so to speak. Sleep evaded her though it was because of reasons she didn't want to speak of to anyone but think about it was a different story altogether. It happened every time she closed her eyes and let the darkness envelop her. The presence of sleep settling around her comfortably before a sudden terror would seize her body and a weight felt like it was holding her down. That tree so pale and so pristine in white would appear before her and she'd have to bite down her own cheek just to force herself to open her eyes again. The image would stay burned in her retinas as if she couldn't look away. Left her gasping and she had to believe to herself that this was a waking nightmare. Perhaps because of the fact that she had died?

The woman had never said anything about what she had experienced upon passing. Didn't think it was important to talk about it but maybe she was wrong. That tree stayed with her after she had come back. It was the first thing she had seen when she had died and presumably crossed over and the last thing before she was pulled back. It haunted her and yet she didn't and couldn't understand why. Deep amber eyes lifted up and she noticed the first star of the night time sky. Some said to make a wish when the first star appeared and she huffed at her own thoughts before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in before releasing it. Snapping her eyes open as she watched the star, the dark and graceful feline would shake her head a little bit. "I wish....that my father never started Project Freelancer and that none of us were just his canon fodder." A pointless wish that wouldn't change the past but still one she found herself wishing heavily that it would come true. Turning her gaze from the sky the last remnants of sunlight glowed warmly over the earth and that was when something caught her attention. It seemed to be high reflective to bounce off the dulling rays of the sun and she tilted her head.

There was a curiosity there and she forced herself to her paws, easily making her way down the slop and away from the Observatory. It took little to no time before she found herself staring into the depths of the Star Pool. Her eyes squinted then, tail lashing back and forth as she leaned forward a bit and touched the surface of the water with a soft tap of her paw. It sent ripples lacing across the surface and she frowned a bit. Was it just this lake? She didn't know but the light was waning and she needed to at least get back to patrol the perimeter of the outpost and make sure everyone was safe for the night. She owed the civilians that at least but nothing more. She was about to turn away when a strange pattern danced just underneath the surface of the water and she found her hollow looking eyes focusing more on the pattern before suddenly she leaped into the water. Her legs thrashed and kicked before she jerked her head down below the surface. A moment passed, then another, and another and there was no movement in the water for a longer moment still and then, suddenly splashing up came the obsidian serval with her paws wrapped around something. It was bigger than herself for sure and she had to use her back legs in order to reach the shore. Half drowned she threw herself on the ground still cradling the object against herself as she spat up water. It was round, and of a blue hue that was unrecognizable. The visor was dull and dead, no lights flicking on to read anything but she knew what it was and she smiled a little to herself. It was her helmet.

[Suiteheart]

SUITE
HEART

The gentle lull of nighttime always drew Suiteheart from where she lay. The white feline, like Carolina, had not rested easy since her rebirth or reincarnation - or whatever else have you. Then again, Suite had never had much luck sleeping anyhow. She recounted sleepless nights where she would lie awake in her room, counting the cracks in the ceiling. She could remember sitting outside, counting every single star she could see until dawn bloomed like the most beautiful flower in the entire garden... It wasn't her fault; her brain just didn't shut off.

It never had. Not even as a child.

Tonight was no different. The ivory femme was traipsing the territory, head craned back ever so slightly to see the stars which were like bullet holes against a deep navy sky. The moon was hanging high and brightly, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if she ought to wake Cooper and go to the coast with him. The Admiral thought better of it. He needed his rest after being sick.

The sudden noise of movement in water was what drew her nearer to Carolina. Suiteheart arrived just in time to see the serval toss herself onto dry land, clutching something. "Holy fuck," she called, moving closer. "I've heard of night swims, but this takes the cake - you're fucking drenched." A little laugh escaped her as she waved a paw, hoping to strip all the water from Carolina's fur with her elemental powers. Taking a seat, her eyes locked onto the helmet. "The hell's that?"

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

© [color=black]MADI

[Roy Mustang]

A lot of times, it was generally a hit or miss if Roy got a full night of sleep. Most of the time, Roy would find himself waking in the middle of the night, stay up for an hour or so, and then finally fall back asleep until morning. Sometimes, Roy wakes up from nightmares- like dreams of Hughes second death, or going through the gate again with even worse outcomes. When he isn't woken by a dream, or if he doesn't remember what he saw in the morning, he considers those to be better nights. Unfortunately, the melanistic bobcat found himself awake, laying still on his bed. He's still having dreams about Maes death, despite the weeks that passed by. It's not that easy to forget your best friend's second death.

With a sigh, the male jumped off of his bed, deciding to take his tired paws out into the night. Usually padding around helped him ease his mind, even if it takes him up to an hour or more. He'd rather walk around to get those thoughts off of his mind than stare at the ceiling in his room, unable to control the regrets and memories.

Usually, the night was uneventful. During these walks, Roy has been used to padding through an almost perfectly quiet night sky. The only noises he could hear were from nature itself, but tonight was a different story. The Flame Alchemist came to a pause, ears pricking up at the sounds of thrashing, and splashing. From what he could hear, someone decided to take a little swim- in the starpool, despite how late it was. He couldn't hear any signs of a fight, or of another individual with them. Whoever that was, they have to be alone, and why would they take a swim so late into the night?

With a sigh escaping his lips, Roy found himself padding towards the starpool- padding in the opposite direction of his ideal path. Roy hadn't even been planning to go near the starpool, whoever was making this much noise better be worth checking on. When the bobcat finally made his way over, his ears pricked up at Suiteheart's voice. For a moment, his head quickly snapped towards her, her scent finally invading his nostrils. While his nostrils picked up Suiteheart's scent, another scent was pulled in too- Carolina. Suiteheart looked perfectly dry, and when he noticed she was addressing the freelancer, his gaze slowly landed on the black serval.

She's soaking wet, she must have been the one to dive into the starpool. Roy almost spoke up to question her reasoning for jumping in the starpool, but then his gaze slowly fixated on the helmet she was cradling. Roy could see her smiling, she seemed quite pleased to have that helmet in her hands- or well, paws. That must be why she dove into the starpool, to retrieve that. The helmet looked a bit familiar- it looked a lot like the one Washington wore. Just the colors were different, but it still looked pretty weird to him. Noticing she was practically coughing up water, the male frowned slightly. "You almost drowned yourself for that?" He said with a flick of his ear, blue tired eyes blinking slowly.

[BASTILLEPAW]

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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS

BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES

Bastille had lived a long life of not caring about anyone. It wasn't even based in simple narcissism, no; he had never cared about himself, either. He knew what he was made of, and knew that he wasn't built for social interaction, for making that connection: he was a fucking failure walking and likely to take anyone within a 5 mile radius of him down with him when he fell. Death followed in his pawsteps, and that was a lessen he wasn't interested in learning twice. The notion of getting attached to others and integrating into a group... It sounded like a fucking nightmare, and there were days where he woke up and wonder how he had gotten here. Days where he wanted to ask Vi to just run away with him, no questions, just go.

And then there were days when he looked around and considered if maybe his life was better, here. If they could redeem him, just a little bit, could delay the inevitable. Hope was stupid and not something he could allow himself to have, but he could allow himself the obligation of honoring Starry's last words. His duty make be shackles tying him to his own fucking doom, but he would do it, and he would remind himself every time that he was here because he had to be. Because a fucking dying man had cursed him, left him no choice.

Sometimes, he came to the Starpool late at night with Starry's name on his tongue. With questions. Demands. Why had he done this to him? Why him, instead of Suiteheart? Why had he chosen the one who didn't want it, who would certainly fail? He just wished he could have five minutes with his damn spirit to just. Understand. But he didn't. All he had was a pendant hanging from an Oak tree, where he'd been forced to put it because it was Starry's damn request. He missed the weight of it around his neck, sometimes. Of letting it ground him and remind him why he was here.

Tonight, the Starpool was not deserted, however. He was displeased to find that Suiteheart was there, putting a sour taste in his mouth, but he ignored here in favor of seeing what the hell Carolina was doing out here. He noted the glimmer of glue of her helmet and arched a brow, greeting lowly, [b]"Well, that thing's big enough now that you could practically sleep in it. Maybe you sure turn it into a bed."

[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST

[| AGENT WASHINGTON |]

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Agent Washington

former human - freelancer - manipulative

Their gear meant everything to them. It was a huge prospect of what kept them alive and what they used to identify each other. Without their armor, he was fairly certain it would take a while for them to recognize them just by going on voice alone. Hence why Washington hadn't managed to recognize Carolina when she first arrived because she didn't have an of her armor. It was confusing that was for sure, but everyone that appeared after her was certainly recognizable with the armor that they wore that was basically just like his own. The Freelancer didn't really have all that much care in the world of what others thought of the armor that he wore. He knew Imperia didn't like it because she said that it was creating a barrier for those when they tried to talk to him. Exactly what he had wanted for his armor to play a part in this strange world. He had no intention of trying to get close to anyone that lived here, but there were always surprises that were played out in front of him whether he liked it or not. Their gear was important, and so far no one had managed to touch said armor unless they got into a fight.

Maine technically counted because he had tried to kill him almost a month ago, but now it was different with those that got near him. Few rarely did, as they got the obvious vibe that he liked his personal space as he kept away from basically everyone that he came into contact with. Washington constantly cleaned his armor wherever he went, and it didn't bother him to do such work all of the time. He had to. It was almost like going to therapy for him to take some time to clean his gear or work on upgrading said gear. Which was easier said than done when he didn't have all that much knowledge on how to fix their helmets without having someone else doing it for him. If he had a specific manual for the helmet that he had, he could manage as he was a quick learner. There were new manuals that existed in this world though, so he was stuck with the primitive guides that others had given him on dealing with the wires that were required to be connected and a power source to run the radio in the first place. Washington had been working nonstop trying to get the functions of his helmet to get back into place, but it wasn't working and he felt like he was putting himself further and further behind. He wasn't sleeping.

That much was obvious, but neither was Carolina. Something was bothering her, but since he was so used to keeping his mouth shut and not talking out of line, he didn't bother to ask his comrade what was wrong with her. To him, there was no point as he believed that Carolina would be able to get through the issue herself fairly quickly. He could be wrong or he could be right, and only time would tell if he was going to end up stepping in the future. The armored smilodon barely kept tabs on the female in the first place, as they were constantly moving around doing their own jobs. He was working on the goal that he was working toward, but he wasn't exactly sure what Carolina was doing. Washington usually stayed out late at night looking over schematics and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing wrong. He was lucky enough that no one had seen him with his helmet off while he was working, as that's the last thing that he needed. No one in the outpost having seen his face just yet and he wanted to keep it that way because that wasn't who he was. Washington knew the territory like the back of his hand now and had specific routes that he would take to each spot. Although, when he walked back in the middle of the night to see where Carolina was so that he could go over some things with her, Washington didn't find her in their room.

A room that they barely shared as they were basically apart from one another. Sighing, the Freelancer would make his way out of the barracks and search for her. He didn't know Carolina by her scent, so he was going to have to find her by sight and hearing. Fairly difficult, but he could manage even if it was in the middle of the night and the serval would basically blend into everything. After almost an hour of looking around, he was growing more and more tired and was about to actually give up looking for the female. He flicked his ears when he heard voices, although he hadn't been around quick enough to hear everything that was going with the water. He recognized those that were speaking, or at least he thought he did. Making his way over toward the Starpool, he made sure not to step in it because he didn't want to get his paws wet at all. It was there that he saw Carolina half in the water crouched over something with Bastille, Suiteheart, and Roy around her. What the hell was going on? The lights on his armor made it somewhat easier to see what was going on as he made his way over. Not limping anymore since his arm had healed itself, as it had been broken for a long time actually.

It was when he approached from the side and moved so that he could see what Carolina was hovering under that he recognized a piece of armor. It was her Recon helmet. It was a special type of helmet that was different from his own and it was the name the UNSC gave that specific helmet along with the armor that she had worn. Washington seemed almost speechless as he kept his physical difference from everywhere else and didn't seem to help Carolina. She wasn't in any danger, she just seemed to be wet to him. [b]"You found your Recon helmet" His voice almost sounded excited. Finally. Something remotely good that has happened.

Where did she find it though? Considering that she was wet she obviously went into the water, he wasn't an idiot. He made his way forward, his paws touching the edge of the pool as he looked over Carolina and into the water. "Is the rest of it in the water?" Washington questioned Carolina hopefully, tilting his head until he cracked his neck. It was then that he heard what Bastille said, and a frown was hidden behind his helmet. The other was right. It was too big. There was no way it could fit her. "Why is the size so different?" Was it because she died and it would have fit her when she was a leopard? This could pose a problem as he knew that Carolina wanted to wear the armor but if she couldn't? It would end badly if she broke her neck trying to put it on.

howie

Tags | Updated 07/27/18:

[color=black]GENERAL:
★ AGENT WASHINGTON | WASH, WASHINGTON, DAVID | MALE
★ Heterosexual
★ 3 years | Birthday | Ages realistically
★ Ascendants |  KUIPER CORPORAL [HP] | Freelancer, Former Human

IMPORTANT FACTS:
★ Agent Washington always wears his armor and never takes it off. Which means no one knows what his face actually looks like.
★ He hates being called any sort of nickname, preferring for his full name to be used when addressing him. He will constantly state so, as its just how he's used to being talked to.
★ Agent Washington suffers from insomnia and auditory/visual hallucinations. 
★ The armor that he wears is extremely tough, there are some spaces in between the armor, but if someone were to hit his armor it would not break.
★ Due to his experience when he was a human, he prefers working alone and not counting on others to help him in a bad situation.
★ Washington will not trust your character. No matter how nice they are. He will not tell them anything until getting to know them.
★ His current goal is to turn himself back into a human, as he doesn't want to be a cat forever. Because of this goal, he is less likely to offer assistance to the groups.

RECENT EVENTS (oldest-recent):
★

PHYSICAL:
★ ARMORED SLATE GREY SMILODON FATALIS [birth/main] | health: 100% | Reference.
580lbs. Agent Washington is a species of Smilodon, roughly the size of a lion. Washington is different compared to most Smilodons due to the strange coloration of his fur. That being a dark slate grey compared to the regular tawny of a simple smilodon. There are faint spots that are visible around his back legs, but only when the light hits it in a specific way. Not only that, but Agent Washington wears titanium alloy armor, making it extremely durable for taking hits and can be used as a means of bashing an enemy. The armor color itself is slightly lighter than that of his actual fur color. He wears a chest plate, that covers his chest and half of his back. Then there are shoulder plates that cover his shoulders and his arms protecting the front half of his body. There is a gap between the shoulder plate and the rest of the arm plate of his armor. His shoulder plate is a yellow, making it stand out from the slate grey armor he wears. Washington also wears a Spartan Helmet resembling that seen in the Halo series. The visor is a reflective gold and having a yellow line going down the middle of the helmet. While he wears armor, one doesn't notice the extreme amount of scars that cover his body, that has transferred from the time that he was a human. Scars ranging from those made by knives, bullets, and blunt trauma. Since his armor doesn't cover the lower half of his body (flank, and back legs), several scars can be seen uncovered in that area. Even though no one has seen his face, if someone were to see his face, his eyes are a deep gold color with blue wrapping around his pupil. The blue is a result of the trauma from a failed AI implantation when he was human. There is a scar on the back of his neck that branches out almost like a lightning bolt, and its barely visible as his helmet hides the majority of said scars. Being a Smilodon means that he has long incisors, but it seems for some reason someone had filed down his incisors, making them useless unless he can put enough force into the blow. However, since he wears his helmet, its impossible for him to use his fang to attack. Leaving his powers and paws as the only offensive means.
- major injuries: none
- minor injuries: none

PERSONALITY:
Once being immature, goofy, and charismatic, Washington was changed completely after the implantation of a computer inside of his head that nearly caused him his death. He is a soldier and hasn't been anything but a soldier in his life, making sure to follow the rules as much as possible. He believes loyalty is everything, and unless given a reason to he will not betray anyone. He is extremely serious and will work himself to exhaustion before trying to relax. Thinking that he must be prepared for everything that will be thrown at it. He prefers to be alone, but that just puts more stress on his head due to the factor that his mental stability is almost nonexistent. Washington is an expert when it comes to regular military strategies, and he almost knows nothing of the clans and how they work. In his mind, he is only on an alien planet and they potentially did something to him. He knows that he needs to get back to the project once the ship had crashed, but now he is actually in a different world. His only plan is to figure out a way to find his goal, and if that means he has to kill anyone in his way to get the information he will do just such. Washington suffers from different lapses of hallucinations and this can be easy for him to snap toward others in a violent manner. Being a soldier, if all else fails he will use violence at his full extent.

RELATIONSHIPS:
★ Single | 1/2 nothing
★ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No mentor

POWERS:
★ Electricity Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Air Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Earth Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Fire Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ X-Ray vision (Discovered)
★ Teleportation (Not Discovered)

INTERACTION:
★ Message this account to plot
★ Extremely hard to befriend
★ Physically extreme | Mentally easy | Training constantly
★ Will start fights, and will finish them quickly
★ Attack in by tagging account
★ Cannot powerplay peaceful or nonviolent actions. ALL OPINIONS ARE IC

[imperia]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px;"]Ever since her encounter with the Maker, Imperia sees people's auras. She can observe when they shift of change, and perhaps even identify their emotional state or determine if someone is being truthful. That is all the Peri thought that changed. But recently, dreams have kept her awake. The she-wolf struggles to remember them the next day, but they are always terrifying enough that Peri awakens with a scream. It has seriously affected her sleeping pattern to the point where she no longer sleeps for longer than a couple hours at a time, several times a day. Much like a cat. As such, she is awake for much of the night. So she spends her time organizing herbs or reading books. Sometimes she takes a walk.

Tonight, she cannot seem to get the idea of pendants out of her head. Learning how to forge them is difficult, and Peri has dedicated much of her time to studying the craft so that she can expertly shape them into designs that fit the individual. The she-wolf decides to visit the starpool and pick out some smaller shards with which to practice. Much of her journey is silent as her thoughts drift to far away places until her attention is captured by the sounds of voices up ahead. Curious as to why so many people are present here so late at night, the cleric comes to stand by Washington in time to hear his words.

In a world like theirs, with magic and monsters and ghosts and gods, fairytales do not seem so much like plain stories. They are merely a reflection of reality. Imperia nourished herself on such tales, filling her mind with the wonders of fae and all the other marvels the supernatural encompass. Now that she has encountered a dragon and spoken with her deity, as well as met several vampires, Imperia must admit that fantasy is no longer, well, fantasy. That is why she is so intrigued by the stories of the Agents. Washington and Carolina. So much mystery. So many secrets. Armor constructed of titanium alloy and scars from "bullets." Body dysphoria and hints that they used to be human rather than beast. It is all very fascinating, even if she hears about it in bits an pieces. But she can also sympathize with their plight.

A recon helmet, huh? Interesting. Peri gazes down at the helmet with interest. "That's strange...I've been here many times and I have not seen this in the Starpool." All those times she dove down into the deep water, not once did she spot a faded blue helmet.