Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2017 19:10:51 GMT -5
Name: Zartreon Von Ubervalt
Age:25
Gender: Male
Race: Crocolisk
Homeworld: Zartron; Free space
Starting Planet: Free Space
Appearance:
A tall and effeminate male crocolisk with a lean but muscular build, graced with smooth, lime green skin composed of thin but hard keratin scales not unlike that of a snakes that glitter when they catch the light like sequens he wears his hair long, loose and layered having taken quite a liking to the dashing knight look it gives him and that he has patterned his personality after, prefering to wear pristine armor that is more ornament than use to him which he fastidiously cleans to perfection after even the slightest scuffing should occur.
Whilst many of his kin have a thing for diadems with precious gems styled after the potora jewels of the shinjin, Zartreon finds them distasteful and far to flashy so opts instead for a plain but well polished circlet of silvery metal with a matrix opal embedded in its center, far more utilitarian by crocolisk standards.
whilst he has not yet gained power sufficient to access his true or monsterous forms it is likely he would focus far more intensely on the beauty of the sacrifice in appearance for power than the physical aspects of the forms and has no problem bringing it to bear in times of need in defense of his soon to be adoring fans.
Backstory:
The third born son of a wealthy crocoliskian dynasty of mercenaries whom profited greatly in the civil war that split the planetary trade organization in half between its Kold demon creators and the upstard brenchian forces by playing both sides against one another in a machavelian scheme that worked only because the best and brightest of both sides of the conflict were too focused on and bent to the destruction of the opposing forces hi9s family managed to maintain neutrality until a clear victor became certain, seizing upon this oppertunity the ubervalts picked the winning side and in the last few months of the war poured their every effort into winning both acclaim within the faction and wealth from their conquests
It was due in part to this and several sound investments that led Zartreon to grow up with everything his heart could desire at his well manicured fingertips or at the very least, sufficient wealth to acquire it or the political clout to take it and so he spent his days in blissful pursuit of leisure and idle distractions for his uncommonly keen mind.
One fateful day whilst he and his usual corterie of pleasure seeking friends were having one of their lavish and opulent parties that their collective attention was caught by a particular and strange fantasy, to hear tales of heroes and myths from across the cosmos, brave warriors and wicked tyrants both so between himself and his friends they began to collect antigue tomes from the thousands of worlds that the planet trade feeding their new found addiction and filling their minds with dreams of emulating these figures of history and mythology and so it was decided he and his 11 friends would leave their families, striking out on their own with little more than the most basic supplies and make names for themselves amongst the universe as heroes and villains both, then to meet once more after little over a decade to exchange tales and battle for the right to claim leadership of their cohort and dedicate it in whole to the pursuit of good or evil.
Techniques
Offense Tiers (3/3)
[OT1]Argent volley
Covering his entire body in a shimmering field of ki Zatreon is caqpable of firing a barrage of ki needles from any point on his body with sufficient focus that penetrate flesh and bone with ease.
[25% Damage]
[OT1]Argent Sword
Concentrating his ki into his forearm Zatreon is capable of generating a whirring aura of razorsharp silver-white ki that enhanced his striking power with its molecule cutting edge.
[25% damage]
[OT2]Argent Aegis
Utilizing a skin tight sheeth of ki to to reduce damage and enhance his striking power he can further overload the field to the point it epands explosively outwards in all directions, peeling through flesh and stone like monofilament blades through butter as its shreds and churns the matter it comes into contact with in an atom crushing convexion
[50% Damage]
Support Tiers (3/3)
[ST1]Flight
Zatreon is capable of controling his ki to such a sufficient extent as to allow him to fly
[ST1]Ki-Supression
A clever trick that zatreon has picked up from meeting a traveling earthling, the ability to control ones ki energies and supress them to appear weaker than one is as long as no techniques are used.
[ST1]Silver Glint
Utilizing the light refracting properties of his silver aura Zartreon is capable of creating illusions of himself such as those of the afterimage technique.
[100% Dodge]
Unique Tiers
Inventory:
500 Zeni
Old Spacepod
Roleplay Example:
It was simply too hot here on planet brench, the air shimmered with the heat of the midday sun much to zatreon's grevious displeasure, no doubt it was drying out his skin and making his hair wirey and ontop of that he was quite sure that it was ruining his complexion, he simply had to get back to his meagre accommodations and fix this at once!
It was really rather distressing that this villain was being obstinant in making things difficult, this had been the third time in as many minuits as he had swooped in heroic and cornered him and yet the slippery little swine kept blinding him with flashes of ki induced light and trying to escape, it was embarrassing for the Poor little thing really, some imeckian that had gotten a little to big for his bloomers and started to sully his commanders name with petty crimes and theft, with that kind of shame on his head it wasw a wonder that the grostesque little blighter dared to go on living, let alone to be so frustratingly stubborn about giving himself in.
Zatreon was at his wits end, to the point he was begining to snarl with displeasure at the imputent soliders constant and worthless attempts to escape that he was begining to allow anger to overcome his normaly composed attidue and wrinkle his brow with frustration.
"Just give up and let me take you in already you greasy little toad!" he yelled in his mounting frustration as the Flighty immeckian continued to bank and roll wildily in a futile but spirit defiance of zatreon "Or ill simply blast you to ashes and turn in your scouter! you may be worth more alive but you're worth enough to me dead!"
No Answer was the stern reply, just more terrified manuvers and gasping breaths as the immeckian darted around like an overgrown grotesque bluebottle refusing to be swatted its wild swearving and panicked rolls serving it well in avoiding the restrained ki blasts he was sending one after another.
Normally he wouldn't mind in the slightest, he'd have happily spent hours reenacting one of the stories from his oh so treasured books but today was simply prooving to be too much frustration for him, the ungodly heat and the dry dusty enviroment simply were too much combined with the pesky immeckian who was punching so far above his weight it was simply unreal.
"Fine then, but don't say i didn't warn you..."he seethed, feeling his true form aching to be released on the unworthy little insect so he could brutally beat them to death with his full might...almost like it was a seperate personality within him bargaining and begging with him for its release...but the beast was simply too ugly to be allowed out short of a disaster and this little blighter barely warrented the time and attention he'd already wasted chasing him around this dingy little backwater town on brench.
Moving faster than the immeckian could even concieve of and swining his aura charged arm in a wide sweeping motion he felt his blow connect and then pass through, severing the screaming imeckians head from his shoulders with the ease of a heated rasor might cut through a block of partiularly noisey and annoying butter.
Zatreon couldn't help but smile to himself a little, he was inordinately proud of his powers whenever he excecuted them so gracefully even if hiz armour was a little bloody from the violence of the bone shearing blow, it could always be cleaned later...however he was slightly disappointed that he'd allowed himself to be pushed so far by such an insignificant opponent.
Returning to the bounty station at his full speed, head of his quarry firmly grasped in his hand as he soared through the sky he vowed silently to himself that this was merely the humble beginings so many of his stories had described and that when he finally acheived the greatness he was no doubt due he wouldn't ever have to lower himself to combating such base and weak opponents in the name of distasteful jobs like mere bounty hunting.
Sparing a glance at his armour he felt his stomach churn, his ornate wear had caught far more blood than he'd realized and would need a long hard scrubbing before the smear of dark blue blood would lift from the neo-ceramic plating, huffing to himself in displeased resolve.
Ill simply have to haggle with the clerk for sufficient compensation for this mess ontop of the bounty.
though the thought of having to spend any more time in the blazing heat, let alone arguing oer every zeni with the greasy porcine alien that ran the bounties desk was abhorent to him there were simplty matters of such princaple that even he wouldn't skew them, his armours pristine appearance was not least amongst them, along with upholding the code of chivallry and gentlemanly honour.
Reward Requested: Power Level.
Age:25
Gender: Male
Race: Crocolisk
Homeworld: Zartron; Free space
Starting Planet: Free Space
Appearance:
A tall and effeminate male crocolisk with a lean but muscular build, graced with smooth, lime green skin composed of thin but hard keratin scales not unlike that of a snakes that glitter when they catch the light like sequens he wears his hair long, loose and layered having taken quite a liking to the dashing knight look it gives him and that he has patterned his personality after, prefering to wear pristine armor that is more ornament than use to him which he fastidiously cleans to perfection after even the slightest scuffing should occur.
Whilst many of his kin have a thing for diadems with precious gems styled after the potora jewels of the shinjin, Zartreon finds them distasteful and far to flashy so opts instead for a plain but well polished circlet of silvery metal with a matrix opal embedded in its center, far more utilitarian by crocolisk standards.
whilst he has not yet gained power sufficient to access his true or monsterous forms it is likely he would focus far more intensely on the beauty of the sacrifice in appearance for power than the physical aspects of the forms and has no problem bringing it to bear in times of need in defense of his soon to be adoring fans.
Backstory:
The third born son of a wealthy crocoliskian dynasty of mercenaries whom profited greatly in the civil war that split the planetary trade organization in half between its Kold demon creators and the upstard brenchian forces by playing both sides against one another in a machavelian scheme that worked only because the best and brightest of both sides of the conflict were too focused on and bent to the destruction of the opposing forces hi9s family managed to maintain neutrality until a clear victor became certain, seizing upon this oppertunity the ubervalts picked the winning side and in the last few months of the war poured their every effort into winning both acclaim within the faction and wealth from their conquests
It was due in part to this and several sound investments that led Zartreon to grow up with everything his heart could desire at his well manicured fingertips or at the very least, sufficient wealth to acquire it or the political clout to take it and so he spent his days in blissful pursuit of leisure and idle distractions for his uncommonly keen mind.
One fateful day whilst he and his usual corterie of pleasure seeking friends were having one of their lavish and opulent parties that their collective attention was caught by a particular and strange fantasy, to hear tales of heroes and myths from across the cosmos, brave warriors and wicked tyrants both so between himself and his friends they began to collect antigue tomes from the thousands of worlds that the planet trade feeding their new found addiction and filling their minds with dreams of emulating these figures of history and mythology and so it was decided he and his 11 friends would leave their families, striking out on their own with little more than the most basic supplies and make names for themselves amongst the universe as heroes and villains both, then to meet once more after little over a decade to exchange tales and battle for the right to claim leadership of their cohort and dedicate it in whole to the pursuit of good or evil.
Techniques
Offense Tiers (3/3)
[OT1]Argent volley
Covering his entire body in a shimmering field of ki Zatreon is caqpable of firing a barrage of ki needles from any point on his body with sufficient focus that penetrate flesh and bone with ease.
[25% Damage]
[OT1]Argent Sword
Concentrating his ki into his forearm Zatreon is capable of generating a whirring aura of razorsharp silver-white ki that enhanced his striking power with its molecule cutting edge.
[25% damage]
[OT2]Argent Aegis
Utilizing a skin tight sheeth of ki to to reduce damage and enhance his striking power he can further overload the field to the point it epands explosively outwards in all directions, peeling through flesh and stone like monofilament blades through butter as its shreds and churns the matter it comes into contact with in an atom crushing convexion
[50% Damage]
Support Tiers (3/3)
[ST1]Flight
Zatreon is capable of controling his ki to such a sufficient extent as to allow him to fly
[ST1]Ki-Supression
A clever trick that zatreon has picked up from meeting a traveling earthling, the ability to control ones ki energies and supress them to appear weaker than one is as long as no techniques are used.
[ST1]Silver Glint
Utilizing the light refracting properties of his silver aura Zartreon is capable of creating illusions of himself such as those of the afterimage technique.
[100% Dodge]
Unique Tiers
Inventory:
500 Zeni
Old Spacepod
Roleplay Example:
It was simply too hot here on planet brench, the air shimmered with the heat of the midday sun much to zatreon's grevious displeasure, no doubt it was drying out his skin and making his hair wirey and ontop of that he was quite sure that it was ruining his complexion, he simply had to get back to his meagre accommodations and fix this at once!
It was really rather distressing that this villain was being obstinant in making things difficult, this had been the third time in as many minuits as he had swooped in heroic and cornered him and yet the slippery little swine kept blinding him with flashes of ki induced light and trying to escape, it was embarrassing for the Poor little thing really, some imeckian that had gotten a little to big for his bloomers and started to sully his commanders name with petty crimes and theft, with that kind of shame on his head it wasw a wonder that the grostesque little blighter dared to go on living, let alone to be so frustratingly stubborn about giving himself in.
Zatreon was at his wits end, to the point he was begining to snarl with displeasure at the imputent soliders constant and worthless attempts to escape that he was begining to allow anger to overcome his normaly composed attidue and wrinkle his brow with frustration.
"Just give up and let me take you in already you greasy little toad!" he yelled in his mounting frustration as the Flighty immeckian continued to bank and roll wildily in a futile but spirit defiance of zatreon "Or ill simply blast you to ashes and turn in your scouter! you may be worth more alive but you're worth enough to me dead!"
No Answer was the stern reply, just more terrified manuvers and gasping breaths as the immeckian darted around like an overgrown grotesque bluebottle refusing to be swatted its wild swearving and panicked rolls serving it well in avoiding the restrained ki blasts he was sending one after another.
Normally he wouldn't mind in the slightest, he'd have happily spent hours reenacting one of the stories from his oh so treasured books but today was simply prooving to be too much frustration for him, the ungodly heat and the dry dusty enviroment simply were too much combined with the pesky immeckian who was punching so far above his weight it was simply unreal.
"Fine then, but don't say i didn't warn you..."he seethed, feeling his true form aching to be released on the unworthy little insect so he could brutally beat them to death with his full might...almost like it was a seperate personality within him bargaining and begging with him for its release...but the beast was simply too ugly to be allowed out short of a disaster and this little blighter barely warrented the time and attention he'd already wasted chasing him around this dingy little backwater town on brench.
Moving faster than the immeckian could even concieve of and swining his aura charged arm in a wide sweeping motion he felt his blow connect and then pass through, severing the screaming imeckians head from his shoulders with the ease of a heated rasor might cut through a block of partiularly noisey and annoying butter.
Zatreon couldn't help but smile to himself a little, he was inordinately proud of his powers whenever he excecuted them so gracefully even if hiz armour was a little bloody from the violence of the bone shearing blow, it could always be cleaned later...however he was slightly disappointed that he'd allowed himself to be pushed so far by such an insignificant opponent.
Returning to the bounty station at his full speed, head of his quarry firmly grasped in his hand as he soared through the sky he vowed silently to himself that this was merely the humble beginings so many of his stories had described and that when he finally acheived the greatness he was no doubt due he wouldn't ever have to lower himself to combating such base and weak opponents in the name of distasteful jobs like mere bounty hunting.
Sparing a glance at his armour he felt his stomach churn, his ornate wear had caught far more blood than he'd realized and would need a long hard scrubbing before the smear of dark blue blood would lift from the neo-ceramic plating, huffing to himself in displeased resolve.
Ill simply have to haggle with the clerk for sufficient compensation for this mess ontop of the bounty.
though the thought of having to spend any more time in the blazing heat, let alone arguing oer every zeni with the greasy porcine alien that ran the bounties desk was abhorent to him there were simplty matters of such princaple that even he wouldn't skew them, his armours pristine appearance was not least amongst them, along with upholding the code of chivallry and gentlemanly honour.
Reward Requested: Power Level.