Post by Deleted on Feb 17, 2017 2:53:33 GMT -5
Wice Yudding
<Link: Legend of Zelda Series>
<Link: Legend of Zelda Series>
Name: Wice Yudding
Age:] 17
Race: Konatsian/Brenchian Hybrid (Konatsian Dominate)
Gender: Male
Height: 5'6
Weight: 160LBS.
Hair Color: Blond
Eye Color: Blue
Identifying Markers: Wice possesses the sharp ears of his Konatsian heritage, though they are shorter in length than a full-bloodied Konatsian. The man also has several grueling scars crisscrossing the length of his back, whip marks he had received throughout his childhood that healed into a tangled mess of angry white and red scars. Lastly Wice possesses a brand seared into the flesh of his left shoulder, a three pronged pyramid connecting from point to point.
Personality: Wice is not the man he pretends to be. Raised to be a killer by a abusive father the half breed is mistrustful of those who have not proved there loyalties to him. The man sees people as either targets or tools to be eliminated or used to his benefit, if a person possesses merit or useful skills Wice will often lie about his intent to get close to them and take whatever it is he needs from them.
Gifted with a calculating, if jaded mind, Wice tends to take things slowly so that he can learn everything he can before making a decision. Because of this Wice will use lies, and his features to appear harmless, or as if he is a upstanding member of society until he decides its time to slip the knife home.
Likes/Dislikes: Wice is a criminal through and through at the end of the day. He likes zeni, he likes power and so these are his driving goals in life. Wice likes to acquire wealth and infamy so that he may one day retire to a quiet place in the universe, leaving behind anyone or anything that reminds him of his past.
On the other side of the coin Wice hates heroes and patrolmen, anyone that would try to stand in his way or prevent his criminal acts. Wice is also not a fan of slave owners or particularly violent torturers. Raised as a slave himself even the criminal Wice takes a stand to those who brutalize others without cause. To steal is a worthy goal, to own another person is a vile act in Wice's eyes.
Aspirations: It is Wice's dream to one day control a vast criminal empire that spans many planets. A organization so powerful none would dare challenge it, and so invaluable that few would even wish to see it dispersed. A force that rivals the Planet Trade Organization or the Galactic Patrol.
Homeworld: Planet Brench
Allegiance: None (Still has ties to the PTO)
Starting Planet: Earth
Appearance:
Possessing a unique combination of the traits of his ancestors, Wice has short sharp ears similar to that of his mother's people. His hair is a medium cut, shiny blond that came from the mixing of his fathers stark white and his mothers dull orange. Complete with vibrant blue eyes and pale skin Wice's traits combined into a almost human visage. It should be known that Wice is one of few Konatsian half breeds to take on the pigment and eye color of his mother's race, and the hair and frame of his father's. Both of the Brenchian and Konatsian lines are very clearly there however for all to see, his half blood nature making him viewed as inferior to Brenchians and as untrustworthy to Konatsians.
Much like his Konatsian heritage Wice is often seen wearing simple, rugged clothing. Seemingly homespun in design Wice often dresses in blues, whites, and greens as well as leather boots. Wice's clothing and gear bare a slightly aged look, as if they came from a older time period, this is mostly do to the influence of his father. A Brenchian slaver who would by no means allow his 'half-blood' child to dress above his station or wear anything that even remotely resembled Brenchian style.
Backstory:
Born upon the cruel PTO home world of Brench, Wice was sired as the child of a Brenchian slaver and one of his Konatsian slaves. Captured from her ship as she traveled through free space territories, Wice's mother Kagel attempted to fight off a PTO raiding party that had happened upon a ship carrying her people. A shield maiden, Kagel fought the raiding party with shield in hand until they were overwhelmed. Some would say that it was a kindness most of the crew had been taken alive, Kagel knew better than to say such things herself. When dragged to Brench in chains the Konatsian crew was sold off into slavery, some as servants, some as fodder for war, and some to a galactic arena. A proven warrior Kagel was sent too the arena, doomed to perish in never ending conflict.
As time passed for Kagel she gained the attention of Wice's father, a Brenchian named Julice. Julice's attentions gave Kagel a reprieve from the arena, if only for a time long enough for her to conceive and birth a child. The child was gifted to Julice by the arena as was custom, despite the man neither wanting nor caring for the half breed. Named Wice Yudding, the child was raised by Julice's slave staff, rarily to be seen by his father. Over many years Wice was treated as the forgotten son he was, little more than another hand to staff Julice's home until the lad turned eight years old. It was during this time Wice displayed a ability of his Konatsian mother, the ability to create items from magic. Julice chose to take advantage of this talent and enrolled his slave/son into the Brenchian arena, much like the lads mother.
Slaves on Brench are not taught to fly, slaves on Brench are not taught to harness Ki. Because of this gladiatorial fights are bloody, physical things. Weapon masters and raw strength or skill often determined the victors. This meant that Wice's power to create weapons was a grand advantage, did his sword break? Make a new one, was he disarmed? Make a new sword, are you being overwhelmed? Create and create and create until you either win or die! These were the most supportive words Julice had ever given Wice, words meant to keep his son alive for as long as possible, so that Julice could collect more zeni.
The child league on planet Brench was no less bloodthirsty than the adult leagues and Wice lived for years slaughtering other children in the arena. When the boy won he was beaten, told to kill faster... to kill better. When he lost and survived he was beaten harder, brought to the edge of death only to be healed back to fighting form. The torture and pain was designed to instill absolute fear and loyalty into Wice's master. Neither truly took effect however, Wice learned obedience to avoid injury, feigned fear to fool his father; but in the end the child only truly learned how to lie. It became Wice's dream to see his father fall, to be knocked from his throne to the level of a slave, just like his son.
After his many years and trials in the arena Wice was selected to accompany his father on a mission through space as a bodyguard, alongside nearly a dozen other slaves and PTO warriors. While in flight to a planet called 'Saturn' a malfunction in the ships hyper sleep pods jettisoned nearly all of he slaves into space. Wice's pod just happened to fly him towards Earth, where he crash landed in the midst of the western regions. Found by a gang of human criminals Wice kindly repaid his saviors by slaughtering several of them and stealing their collected loot. Currently at large upon Earth and finally free Wice intends to start his own empire, no one is going to lord over him again.
Techniques
-Balanced Tree-
Offense Tiers
- [OT-1] Broken Arrow
[25% of PL in damage]
[li][OT-1] Ki Infusion[/li]
By channeling his Ki through his fists or a weapon Wice adds additional power to his swings. Rushing his foe with a flurry of stabs, chops, or punches.
[25% of PL in damage]
[li][VT-1] Boomerang Blade[/li]
Instead of using his Magic Materialization to create a arrow or a sword Wice summons a energy charged blade into existence. This strangely curved and angled weapon is than thrown towards his foes for either shocking damage, or a nasty surprise.
[25% of PL in damage / If dodged the first post Boomerang Blade will circle back around for half damage the following post. (Only works if dodged, blocking or landing the first hit negates effect)]
[/ul]
Support Tiers
- [ST-1] Magic Materialization
[Can create objects from nothing, with certain limitations. Primarily used to create weaponry on the go.]
[li][ST-1] Ki Sense[/li]
Can sense the power level of others
[allows to have a general notion of people's PL as long as they are in the same region.]
[li][ST-1] Rapid Movement[/li]
The ability to use extreme speed to avoid attacks.
[Allows Wice to dodge up to 100% of his own PL in damage]
[/ul]
Unique Tiers
N/A
Inventory:
500 Zeni
Old Spacepod
Roleplay Example:
Screams... Screams filled the arena this night, just as they did every night. Loud, shrill calls for pain and blood, whimpering cries that replied in a sad answer that revealed the death that was craved had been granted. Such was the life of the arena, people went in, meat came out. Sometimes shredded, sometimes chopped, no two people who entered left in the same manner. The arena was a breeding ground for killers, it turned good men and women and yes even children into cold heart-less monsters. All for the cheering of the crowd, a crowd of people more monstrous than any gladiator that would kill or die on the sands that night.
Secured in a small antechamber with only two doors Wice sat with his two 'partners' for the evening. One was fresh grind, a slave whom had earned the ire of his master and would for the first time step out onto the blood soaked sands. Wice didn't possess the care to comfort the frightened man, he didn't even have the will to warn new gladiator that tonight would likely be his last among the living. The second man was a gruff teen only slightly older than Wice himself, the man was Rana who had committed some great failing and was sentenced to the pits to die as a slave. Wice had fought this Rana twice before in the sand, he was fast and was one of very few whom could actually harness a Ki blast, making him highly dangerous. During the pairs last battle the Rana had broken four of Wice's ribs and one of his knees, Wice had driven a sword through the purple bastards chest. The scar was visible even now, an angry reminder of their last meeting.
The Rana stared at Wice long and hard until the young half breed would met the purple aliens eyes. There was no hatred between them, instead it was a simple, cold understanding of what was to come. Neither Wice nor the Rana felt desire for revenge against the other. Tonight they would be allies, tonight meant they must work together to live. Even though living tomorrow might mean to kill each other than. Wice could only nod at the Rana, who was strapping leathers and showy ropes to his muscled body. Wice was doing the same, it was arena ruling that fighters must dress for the ocassion, sadly that never meant receiving actual armor or clothing beyond a pair of pants and a assortment of useless decoration.
Finally with a final cheer from the crowd outside everything went quiet, it meant the final kill of the match had been made. The heavy portcullis gate at one end of the room began to slowly grind and crank its way up the wall. Each inch it rose filled the small chamber with blinding light and dry heat, the arena was dubbed 'The Sands' for a reason, as it was kept like a blistering desert. When the portcullis finally finished its ascent the trio of fighters all stepped out together, the fresh meat came armed with a spiked mace and a bronze shield. The Rana carried no weapons, his thickly muscled body and Ki abilities all he needed to fight with. Wice carried nothing more than a shield, shaped like a spade so that one end my be used for stabbing, red and blue markings decorated the metal plate on one side.
The arena was a wide circular room with five main gates of entry the floor was littered with yellow sand that felt blazing to Wice's naked heels. He endured the burn however, used to its feel. The fresh grind beside him was already hopping from foot to foot from the uncomfortable heat, while the Rana did something only seasoned veterans of the pit knew to do. He stood upon a pool of blood left over from the last match, many long streaks of sand was stained a dull red with the blood of those fallen. In time the hot grains would soak and shallow the red mess deep into its depths, but a fresh kill meant a cool pool for the feet of the knowing and the Rana was one of the knowing. Twenty foot walls ringed the arena, each wall spotted with dozens of round holes built into the stone. Many first timers saw those holes as hand holds to climb to freedom, but Wice knew better. Each hole was a blaster, ready and waiting to blow anyone attempting escape to pieces.
The crowd let off loud boos as the announcer introduced Wice's team, today's match was a flavored thing. A three on three match between a male team and a female one. Sometimes the crowd wanted extra drama for their slayings, and during events like this the male team was often seen as the 'villains'. Across the pit came their opponents, a Spikerian whom came armed with a large axe, a woman wearing a horned helmat as well as a shield and spear, and finally a young Saiyan woman whom wore a bandoleer of wicked looking knives. The crowd cheered at the approach of the women, each one looking deadly and wearing attire similar to Wice's own. The announcer gave a few words, Wice ignored them. It was flare for the crowd and nothing more, instead Wice spent the small amount of time before combat examining his enemies. The Spikerian was massive and would have to fall to his Rana companion, which meant Wice and the fresh grind would have to face the other two. Which honestly meant that Wice would have to face the other two.
Both the Saiyan and the horn-helmed woman looked formidable, so Wice chose to focus upon the Saiyan first, her lack of a shield and armor being Wice's only advantage in putting one of the pair down quickly. A wave of thunderous applause filled the arena, the signal that fighting was about to start. Lifting his shield up into a ready position Wice felt sweat dripping down his brow as he waited.
"BEGIN!!!"
As soon as the crack of a speaker broadcast the start of battle the Saiyan woman drew and tossed three knives from her bandoleer,
the missiles flew swiftly for the fresh grind only to clang loudly against Wice's shield as he threw himself in front of the assault. Shield raised to protect his front Wice looked back at the man behind him, he stood quivering, unable to move. Spinning in a fast circle Wice slammed his shield into the man's chest, knocking him hard to the floor. "Either you fight, or I will kill you myself!" Wice shouted as he completed his three sixty spin, guessing correctly that more knives would be flying his way. Once more they clanged like a chorus of bells against his shield. "Now get up and live like a man or die on the floor like a babe." Wice said as he charged forward, peeking over his shield he could see both the helmeted woman and the knife wielder coming to meet him.
Nearby the Rana battled the Spikerian woman the pew pew of his Ki blasts could be heard as they exploded around the arena, the man's first blast had taken the head off of his foe's axe, now the pink fleshed woman was using the broken shaft of her weapon like a crude spear. It was enough to keep the Rana at bay, forcing him to take quick shots when and where he could. Wice had no time to watch more as another knife clanged against his steel. Eyes returning forward the man watched as the Saiyan came in first and low to the ground, helmed woman close behind. Suddenly when the three were no more than seven feet from each other the Saiyan dropped to the sand, bracing her body with her arms so that the helmed woman could plant a foot upon her back and leap high into the air. Her spear dived in at a grand angle that would pass right over Wice's guard. It was a masterful tactic that would have defeated nearly anyone, but Wice came with tricks of his own. Energy flowing through him Wice raised one arm over his head and brought forth a second shield, summoned in the blink of an eye. A dull thud rang out as the spear met curved steel that was very much real. Her weapon grinded along the metal until it slipped free completely as she passed over Wice's head to land behind him.
The spear wielder had no chance to turn for Wice's back as the mace wielding newcomer finally joined the fray, taking a clumsy swing at the shield maiden. The man stood no chance at defeating the woman, but that meant nothing to Wice. The fresh grind only had to last long enough for Wice to even the odds. Carrying through with his charge Wice bashed his front shield into the face of the prone Saiyan woman, a heavy crunching sound signaling that Wice had broken the woman's nose in his charge. The Saiyan was blown onto her back from the hit as Wice dropped upon her, he stabbed the spaded point of one shield into the woman's right wrist, cutting and trapping her arm against the sand. She tried to fight back, reaching for any knives that she could, but Wice stabbed her again and again with his other shield tip beating the pointed metal into her face and chest until little more than red pulp remained.
Rolling tiredly off his victim Wice got to his feet in time to survey the battle ground. The Rana had been impaled through the gut but the Spikerian's crude spear, and his face was covered in pin-prick red marks, clearly he had taken a headbutt or two from his thorny foe. Yet the Rana sat propped up against the large body of his foe, the Spikerian had a smoking hole that ran clean through her chest and out her back. It was good to see the Rana had won his battle, but he appeared very near to death, and Wice knew the man was out of the fight.
Turning toward the fresh grind and the helmed woman Wice watched as the woman violently ripped her spear free of the man's chest. A shocked expression was permanently etched across his face as he fell to his knees, eyes unable to leave the sucking wound in his lungs. He finally dropped face first into the sands, just another nameless fallen. The helmed woman begin to slowly walk towards Wice who dropped his second shield to the dust and brought forth his weapon of choice, a long bladed broad sword with a cross guard hilt. Seeing Wice's power on display for a second time the helmed woman stopped her progression suddenly, stabbed her spear into the sand, and reached up to remove her helmet. The horned armor fell to the earth and Wice was left facing a woman with a Mohawk of pink hair and long sharp ears. Instead of reclaiming her spear the woman stretched out her hand and summoned forth a long curved saber.
"Oh ladies and gentlemen what a amazing turn of events, this brawl will come down to the Konatsian Kagel vs the Konatsian Wice Yudding! If the rumors are to be true than this is a battle between mother and son! You don't get to pay money for scenes like this folks! Only fate can decree such a climatic battle!" came the announcers voice even as Wice and Kagel began they march towards each other once again.
The pair looked into each others eyes as they drew nearer, Wice wasn't sure what he was looking for in his mothers gaze, was it love? This woman had never met him before, she had birthed him against her will due to Julice's indulgences. Wice than began to wonder what Kagel was looking for in his eyes? Was she looking for the love of a son, or did she just see a monstrous killer? Emotions tumbled through Wice like stones down a mountain, but there was one thing he was certain about; they would never left both of them leave alive.
Both fighters hopped into a quick running stride as the cleared the last bit of distance between them they slammed into each other full force, shield clanging against shield from the force of their impact. They bounced off of each other than, Kagel striking first as her saber quickly cleaved in from the side, only to meet Wice's sword in a steady block. Sparks flew as steel ground against steel, the blades locking together at their respective hilts. Wice slammed forward with his shield again, hoping to knock his mother back, but Kagel intercepted the blow with her own shield and held her ground steady beneath her feet. Twisting and pushing up and in Kagel managed to drive both interlocked swords out over the pairs heads, allowing her to ram her elbow into Wice's face. Blood trickled from his nostrils as Wice tried a new tactic than, letting go of his sword completely Kagel suddenly pushed her arm out wildly do to the sudden release in pressure. Light blue Ki formed into a solid metal dagger in Wice's upheld hand than, reverse gripped so as too plunge home into his mothers breast.
Dropping her own sword Kagel swung her shield up with both hands, the steel edge of her shield smacking hard into Wice's wrist and locking the man's deadly dagger up over her head. Frustrated from the pain in his wrist Wice bashed his shield into his mothers ribs. Kagel bounced back a step and released a painful moan from the blow, but she did not release Wice's trapped dagger. Wice slammed her again and again, bones crunched and cracked under the assault, but Kagel took it all with minimal flinching. "I'm sorry my son." Kagel said in between the blows, bringing Wice to hesitate for a moment. Suddenly Kagel dropped down a hand from her shield and summoned another saber into existence. The long curved blade pressed forward into Wice's liver, plunging down until the swords hilt met his flesh.
Eyes popping wide from the surprise and sudden pain Wice felt his arms go limp, his shield and dagger dropping to the sand on either side of him. He fell to his knees than, sword still impaled through his body. The announcer's voice and the crowd mixed together to sound like thunder, but Wice could hear none of it as he awaited the finishing stroke that would end his life. Kagel knelt down before him, a single tear finally escaping her hard as steel eyes. Kagel threw her arms around him then in a embrace, bringing her lips close to his own pointed ears. "I'm sorry my failings raised you to be a killer, but it all ends now baby... Mommy will end it now." she whispered in a sorrowful, broken voice before pushing herself out to arms length before him. Even as Kagel gave her son a finally goodbye Wice's fingers could feel something in the sand, it was his dagger. Wice wasn't sure what he was feeling in that moment? Pain yes, but other emotions and sensations as well. Was this love? Or relief? The only emotion Wice could identify was the fear, his fear of death stood stronger than the rest of the strange jumble running through his mind. So even as Kagel began to pull away from him, Wice gripped his knife and stabbed out.
The sharp blade took Kagel in the throat, shock and pain lit her eyes as she weakly gripped the weapon in her throat. Blood flowed from the wound as she collapsed into the sand, a red pool quickly spreading underneath her pink Mohawk. The last thing Wice heard before he blacked out was the surprised voice of the announcer, and the mixed boos and cheers of the crowd.
Wice awoke later inside a healing tank, the thick syrupy liquid keeping him still as it slowly repaired the damage to his body. A breathing apparatus was fixed to his mouth as he became aware of his surroundings. Of course he hadn't died, Julice wouldn't allow him to die until enough zeni was made. The window to his tank showed several alien doctors check pods and attending to others, until Julice himself walked in. The Brenchian came right up to Wice's tank and peered inside, a smile lit his face when he noticed Wice was awake. "That was some cold blooded killing there boy. I'd be proud of you if you were fully Brenchian. You should be pleased to know I'm at least happy with you for now." Julice said, his voice sounding muffled and wavy through the liquids of the tank. "You made me a great deal of zeni today though boy. So for that I have decided to let you take a break from the arena. You will be one of my guards as we scout a planet called Saturn for sale. So rest up and don't go dying on me yet killer." Julice said with a laugh as he walked away from the tank, leaving Wice alone with his thoughts. For perhaps the first time Wice was glad to be inside a healing tank, it meant no one would notice his tears.
Reward Requested: (PL Please)
