Enrollment Form
Basic info
Name: Solomon-Daton Moon
Age: 18
Birthday: September 5th
Gender: Cisgender Male
Race: Human
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 180LBS Without Prosthesis, 205 LBS With Prosthesis
Face Claim: Captain Haar, Fire Emblem
Stats
STR:4
DEF:2
RES:2
SPT:4
Aura 200|100 HP
Personality
Major: Combat
Likes: Fighting, Cigars, Whiskey, Snow, Dogs, Poetry, Fine Arts, Swordplay, Heavy Metal Music, Classical Music, Fire, Conventionally attractive women,
Dislikes: Hugs, Enclosed spaces, Being surrounded, Load/Sudden noises, Fools, Weaklings, Victims, Country Music, Beer, Cigarettes, The ocean, Swimming, His prosthetic arm, People standing in his blindspot, Being reminded that he, has only one eye/has only one arm/is an orphan,
Fears: Blindness, Dismemberment, Drowning, Being Ambushed, Death
Overall Personality:
Known far and wide for an infamously incendiary temper, Sol has been well documented to smolder for hours before eventually erupting into a violent fury for what seems to be little reason at all. His penchant for holding a grudge, being incredibly and ruthlessly judgmental of others, and having little patience for fools or weaklings, have given Sol a reputation as a scowling hardass. Add to this the sense of loss he feels for both his eye, his arm, and his family, and you get a volatile man with few reasons to be anything but.
However, this tough exterior, that many fail to ever penetrate, belies a far more complicated individual. Skilled with both his hands and his weapons, Sol feels a great appreciation for the rewards of hard work, and finds a great deal of confidence and pride in both his crafts and his martial prowess. His hobbies include poetry, charcoal rubbings, mechanics and martial arts, and though he finds varied degrees of success in each, the metric skewed in favor of the latter pair, he is never the less driven and enthusiastic about such exploits. He possesses a stubborn will, and in combination with his ample courage in tackling obstacles is well noted to be the first one to challenge a conflict and the last to retreat.
Sol is a lover of the more basic things in life, and enjoys drinking, and smoking, and chasing pretty women, taking advantage of these things with the knowledge that he may never have another chance. Sol approaches most situations, aside from those that trigger his temper, with a tempered stoicism that can give the illusion of disinterest or apathy, but actually he just tends to conceal his emotions, and even represses them to a degree. Ironically it is during combat when he is able to be the most open, in part because of not knowing if he will survive, and also because his semblance is connected to his outward emotions and thus cannot function without a certain degree of transparency.
Those that penetrate this facade, which are few given that most simply give up and consider him a two dimensional asshole, find that Sol is deeply cynical, and nihilistic in his outlooks on life, both clear scars from a turbulent upbringing and exposure to extreme traumas. Sol refers to death and suffering with an offhanded tone, as if they are not remarkable to him, which they are not, assuming that he can protect himself behind an emotional barrier or some sort of separation from having to truly consider it. When what lies beneath his hardened exterior is exposed, one will find that he is actually a lot more sensitive than he appears, but only in a relative sense, the same way some stones are softer than granite. The truth of the matter is that Sol is deeply troubled and disillusioned with concepts and ideals, such as bravery, duty, honor, and obligation to others, and the only way he maintains the stability he has is by latching on to these ideals and fortifying himself behind them, often to the detriment of making personal connections with others. Because his fragile mental state actually relies upon these cornerstones, he is resistant to questioning them, and will resist attempts of others to do so, often employing violence to silence any arguments.
Sol has a strong belief and respect for military and martial might. He does not believe in a higher or more noble purpose than the dedicated pursuit of strength and power, to the degree that strength is often the metric by which he determines right and wrong. To him the only path to peace is having a more terrible weapon than one`s enemies, and only absolute might can be capable of uniting a fractured society. Sol believes ends justify the means, and though his exact feelings regarding violence as a solution are somewhat complex, he does not see any better options available to him.
Abilities
Aura type: Spirit
Aura Color: Red decaying into blue
Semblance: Volatile Ignition:
Sol's semblance tends to suit his explosive temper. By carefully focusing and manipulating his aura, Sol can manifest projected explosions of heat and force from his extremities.
Sol can project said detonations from either his hand or his mouth, and they typically originate within a few inches of his body and are projected outwards and away from him like a shaped charge. Under ideal conditions Sol is not in any danger as a result of these bursts, but they are never the less potent weapons in their own right. The potency of these strikes can be controlled to a degree by Sol. A discharge of his semblance extends up to ten(10) feet from the origin point, and can be directed and controlled to a degree as to never pose a threat to him. The force of the burst dissipates the further the from the ignition point the target moves, until rendered inert at increased distances beyond the maximum range.
A discharge against mundane targets with no aura can buckle the armor plating of a military vehicle, smash ceramics and glass to dust, and potentially dismember soft targets.
Sol can use his semblance to augment the affects of dust based attacks. Examples of Semblance/Dust interactions are as follows.
Fire dust explosions gain a much more incendiary quality, boosting the maximum range by 100%. Kinetic forces of this discharge are minimal and lack the power to drive an average opponent away from the ignition point, while setting fire to combustibles and soft targets, and immediately incinerating delicate materials.
Water dust creates an endothermic blast, sucking available heat and energy out of the immediate area, but also halves the maximum range of the blast. Depending on the quality of dust used, there might be as little as a sheet of frost over the affected targets or a layer of solid ice.
Lightning dust creates an electrically and magnetically charged burst, and can disrupt electronics, stun biological beings, and though the magnetic forces are not significant enough to attract metal objects, they are enough to scramble unshielded circuitry.
Earth can be shaped into a brief barrier instead of a blast.
Though it has no real combat application except for possibly the purposes of intimidation, utilization of his semblance causes Sol's internal body temperature to spike upward and his eye to smolder like hot coal. It is not uncommon for his breath to become steam, or for liquids to sizzle when they come in contact with him and these cosmetic differences can sometimes serve as a warning for an impending detonation. This does provide him a slight resistance to extreme temperatures, but not enough to be considered superhuman.
Use of his semblance is physically strenuous to Sol, above and beyond the usual strain a semblance places on most hunters. Repeated discharges of his semblance can cause bruising and burning that slowly spreads away from the ignition point, and can over time render the limb useless, or cost him his voice. Sol needs to take a break between successive discharges in order to avoid this, but after a typical fight even one in which not a hand is laid upon him, his body will be sore and bruised, and burned around the face and hand from the use of his semblance. This is likely a result of enduring the shock-wave that his semblance causes.
Item 1:
Roar:
A moment of reckless grief claimed Sol's right arm, and He has since replaced it with a sophisticated prosthesis that serves most of the same functions of the original, and several more as well.
Said prosthesis exists in two distinct parts, a reinforced endoskeletal structure that closely resembles the bone and sinew of a normal arm only rendered in far tougher materials, and a removable exoskeletal shell that houses a dust deployment and containment system.
The internal structure functions as an arm without need of the external structure, but looks rather unsettling, being it's close resemblance to it's biological equivalent, and is made up of a similar material to conventional hunter weaponry, for this reason it is considerably tough, as it needs to be to suffer the abuse of it's function.
The external structure is removable, being that in order to properly armor the dust containment system, the "meat" of the prosthesis had to be constructed around it. This also means that the forearm of the prosthesis needs to be stripped in order to reload the system. This structure actually extends up and over the remaining portion of Sol's biological arm, and fastens to a set of implanted rivets in his right scapular. The structure itself resembles overlapping red plates of insect chitin, surrounding a semi-translucent blue interior, and has a decidedly more organic impression than a conventional prosthetic, likely due to personal preference on the part of the creator. The shell is made of a ceramic composite, in order to shed the weight that would have been necessary to achieve a similar shape with metal. The skeleton of the prosthesis is visible along the palm, fingertips and knuckles of the hand, being that it was more efficient to leave these area's unarmored and allow the hardy material of the internal structure to take the brunt of any abuse.
Other interesting features of this prosthesis is the addition of several vents arranged at the joints for the purposes of deploying dust. In order of size from largest to smallest are as follows, dorsal shoulder, six inches in diameter, right palm, four inches in diameter, and two on the medial and lateral sides of the elbow, each two inches in diameter.
By employing these vents and the dust contained within the internal housing, often fire or wind dust, Sol can either eject gouts of flame and explosive force from his arm, or by narrowing the aperture of said vents , augment his own mobility with the assistance of directed jets of force.
Roar affords Sol enhanced physical strength for hand to hand combat, allowing him to grip and strike with the forces of a hydraulic press, but the primary weapon system comes by way of the vent located in the palm, from which concentrated ejections of dust can be fired in either stream, projectile, or jet form, by manipulating the much more complicated aperture located therein. The elbow and shoulder vents working in tandem the main gun can operate as a sophisticated stabilization system by ejecting precise jets to counteract the recoil of discharging the primary weapon.
For the purposes of combat the projectile, stream, and jet settings are distinguished as follows.
Projectile mode fires a solid mass of ignited dust up to fifty feet. This projectile explodes on impact and inflicts splash damage over an area ten(10)feet in diameter. However due to lacking a solid casing, the projectile must travel a distance of ten feet in order to prime, and at close range is only capable of inflicting damage to a single target.
Stream mode ejects a narrow two-five(2-5) foot wide cone that can extend up to fifteen(15) feet, and Sol typically employs this mode when a target closes into the dead zone of his projectile mode.
Jet mode has little if any applications for direct damage and instead provides propulsion for enhancement of Sol's mobility, as well as allowing him to land melee strikes with greatly increased force.
The only major consideration need to be taken into account is heat buildup, and ammunition availability, though the weapon houses enough dust to discharge fifteen high caliber projectiles or sustain roughly five minutes of continuous burn before needing to be reloaded.
The arm is limited outside of combat situations in that it lack a the same sophistication of tactile sensation of a biological limb. Sol can "feel" when he is holding something and how much pressure he is exerting, as well as the position of his arm with an equal precision as he might enjoy for any other limb, and is aware when the various systems of the arm are damaged or disrupted, but otherwise cannot actually feel anything. This means he cannot perform most fine tasks that require tactile feedback, including writing, use of a scroll, use of most keyboards, and the preparation of foodstuffs, as well as many others. Sol is forced to perform functions of this nature with his left hand, and is understandably clumsy when doing so.
The metal of the arm's core and shell are treated with blue and red dust respectively, and the former is constantly subzero to the touch and capable of acting as a very efficient heat sink for the rest of the weapon system, while the latter is warm to the touch and tempered to withstand the extreme temperatures of channeling the weapon's various jets of flame.
Item 2:
Fire Dust and Tier 1 License
10 Uses
History and Sample
- History:
- Sol never knew his mother, and was raised under the direct tutelage of his father Terrel-Daton Moon, a wealthy and renowned CEO of Moon Military Contractors and Consultants, a private military corporation that worked in cooperation with the Atlesian military. Terry was know and respected among his peers for the distinction of fighting on the front lines of any engagement, and though the extent of this preference was often exaggerated to a logically ludicrous degree, it was quite accurate to say that Sol's father was a skilled and noble warrior who was as at home on the battlefield as he was at both being the head of a noble family, and managing a powerful private army. Great things were expected of Sol even in his youth, but when an outbreak of disease that wracked their estate threatened to claim the young heir as well, those expectations quickly turned to despair. The exact circumstances of the tale are lost to time and the secretive lips of Sol, but rumor has it that the boy himself, upon discovering his right eye rendered useless by infection, amputated his own right eye in order to speed his recovery.
Despite nearly being killed by the sickness that claimed his eye, Sol, who had been groomed from infancy as a warrior, returned to his training and his studies in a deliberate defiance of those who had though he might die. Motivated by the knowledge that he himself was his father's only heir, as well as the family tradition of military exploits, Sol's skill with a sword was unparalleled, and he had a natural talent for the family martial art. As he grew into his teens he developed a physique and a demeanor to match his emphasis on combat training. At age thirteen he had already sneaked into service on a convoy headed by his father, and had already taken lives in one of the numerous Faunus uprisings that plagued the Atlas periphery. By the time he was fourteen he was openly participating in such skirmishes, and by fifteen he was leading his own detachment, albeit under the watchful supervision of his commander and father.
Sol was privately tutored during this time, in order to allow him to take a more active role in the family business, and by all accounts progressing well along the lines towards being his father's successor in both name and status. By the time he turned sixteen Sol had a partial share in his father's holdings, and a seat at the council that presided over decisions regarding the corporation, where he was eventually put to work in increasing his family's influence. He proved to be a skilled negotiator, and by the liberal use of his father's coin and the threat of his family's military might, Sol made many allies for his clan, all the while crushing Faunus rebellions as they sprouted along the borderlands. It was this very success that would eventually spell the tragedy for his family.
On what had appeared to be a routine skirmish into the periphery, Sol and his father were ambushed by a well armed regiment of the White Fang. Sol's father was taken hostage during the melee and the Fang leader demanded that Sol and his company surrender, all the while holding a knife to Terrel's throat. Despite having a full garrison of rifles lined up to fire, Sol hesitated, unable to give the order that might mean the death of both his father and his idol, even as his father demanded that Sol order the men to open fire. The Fang general panicked and cut Terrel's throat in a bid to make a frantic escape and despite the apparently suicidal nature of his decisions, the terrorist managed to escape the resultant hail of gunfire. As his father died in his arms, Sol ordered his men to remain and mop up any resistance, and then blindly gave chase, bent on having his revenge.
Sol tracked the man who had killed his father over many miles, and eventually caught up to the killer, who had joined back up with White Fang reinforcements. Driven by rage and grief, Sol threw himself into their ranks like a man possessed of a bloodthirsty demon and cut a bloody line towards their leader, but soon was overwhelmed by their numbers and critically injured just as he exacted justice upon the Fang commander. Luckily Sol's own forces had given pursuit of their hotheaded leader when they realized what he had meant to do and they fell upon the disarrayed Faunus battalion, just in time to snatch the young lord from the jaws of death. Losses were devastating for both sides, not the least of which being Sol's right arm which was severed just below the shoulder by the sword of the officer who had killed his father.
Sol spent months recovering, using his family's wealth to construct a sophisticated prosthesis with state of the art technology to replace the arm he'd lost, whilst keeping the sword that had maimed him as a grim reminder of the price of weakness and hesitation. Meanwhile the Atlesian media hailed Solomon and his father Terrel as hero and martyr respectively to the Atlesian cause, lauding them both as shining examples of the noble sacrifice of two men to their nation. Titan academy, where Sol had received his tutoring, held a much publicized assembly in honor of their fallen student, and for better or worse, Moon became a well known name. On the other side of the fence, among those who sympathized with the cause of those that MMCC profited most from putting down, that is the White Fang and other Pro-Faunus insurgencies, as well as those who lost family on both sides in the numerous skirmishes of the Moon military, Sol was decried as a butcher, who willingly sacrificed the lives of his men and needlessly slaughtered his enemies in order to settle a personal score, and a hater of Faunus, who served as an ideal symbol of another generation indoctrinated towards the oppression of the Faunus peoples.
Still adjusting to his new arm, Sol took a hiatus from his duties as the official heir to the Moon Military Corporation, and while still as active in company affairs as he could manage, and still capable of accessing the company's armory and resources to a certain degree, he focused his attentions on coming to grips with his losses and seeking refuge from the scores of praising and scorning strangers who all knew his name. Inevitably his reputation preceded him to Bellmuse, but over time and distance details had been lost or exaggerated depending on who one asked. All that was known to most is that Solomon was a mighty warrior, son of a deceased Atlesian war hero, gifted in the art of combat, and dangerously temperamental, who happened to have made his name by killing Faunus for the Atlesian Military.
- RP Sample:
- Sol inhaled a shaky breath, eye wide, skin pale and slick with sweat. The pain was beyond unspeakable, and the fact that it was mostly self inflicted did not make the sting any less. He felt somewhat faint as each breath threatened to tear the cauterized wounds open once more, but much like his opponent, surrender was not an option for this man. He'd suffered worse in his time. It had been he who had finally removed his own eye when a sickness in his youth had rendered the organ useless, and what he felt now, while agonizing, was nothing in comparison to that.
He beheld the crumpled form of his foe, slumped in a cradle of hammered steel, eyes half glazed and body barely able to move, and though the sight was somewhat pathetic, there was no sign of sympathy or even pity in the mask of suffering that twisted his features. If anything he did not seem to really see a person, much less the ruin he'd made of her. His gaze was as empty and deadly as a Grimm's, holding within it only the alien motivations of a feral intellect, as he slowly made his way towards her.
He did not speak, other than to growl and groan like a wounded beast as he approached the girl, waiting patiently to see what she might do. When she raised her weapon once more he came to a halt, lips drawing back even further in a pained snarl, as he spat the paper cylinder from between his teeth and into the sodden pavement.
Three shots rang out, but the monstrous warrior did not flinch away, instead he stood his ground until the last possible moment and drew deeply into his lungs, as if taking one final breath of air before the end. Then he began to yell, roaring like a suffering beast, and forcing out all the air he'd drawn in one deafening and primal blast. Blue and red fire flowed out of his mouth and across his body as the flaming shots came close enough to be reflected in the molten gold of his eye. The roar became booming thunder, a discharge that shook the metal of the surrounding containers like a hammer made of pure sound, as a shock-wave that visibly distorted the air fanned out in a cone from the warrior's lips. The three shots crashed against the discharge and detonated prematurely, raining down flame into Sol's lashing aura as he continued his inexorable advance towards his crippled foe.
As he came within ten feet of her, he stopped, an expression of suffering and contempt across his features as he held out his right hand, the vent in the palm aiming towards the girl. The visible aperture began spinning like a turbine, starting off painfully slowly at first with a dull whine and building into a shrill tone and then finally a piercing shriek, as all the while his arm lit up from the shoulder down, red light filling the exposed blue core as the metal became super heated, and a globe of liquid fire began forming between his claw-like fingers.
"Weak.." Was all he said, in a voice thick and hoarse with pain and effort, as he fired.
The shot rang out like a crash of lightning, as the orb streaked away like a ball from a cannon. It was too close for the explosive to prime, but at this range it was more than capable of inflicting fatal injury to a defenseless target.
Sol spat again, saliva stained red and thick with blood, as he turned to depart, leaving behind a smoking hole in the shipping container less than a foot to the left of Midori's head.
Last edited by OrigamiZergling on Wed May 11, 2016 11:35 pm; edited 6 times in total
