Fallen Sky - Bios

[Duvet de Mot]

Name: Hiromasa “Hiro” Kusagari

Age: 26

Clan: Kusagari

Abilities: Yes; Hiromasa has grown to understand the force-field powers in great detail, using them to deliver harder strikes and to create a shield with his off-hand. Though his abilities with the sword and revolver are impressive, his most striking mastery is that over his clan’s technology.

Weapon of Choice: Qi Katana; Hiromasa is adept at the art of swordplay and has found that the abilities afforded him by his clan’s sword give him just enough of an edge in battle to come out on top; however, he has been bested on several occasions by members of Clan Garrison and their unpredictable abilities.

Personality: Strong-willed and stubborn, Hiromasa rarely heeds the advice or warnings of others and rarely admits his faults. Hiromasa is impulsive and emotional, a weakness which has put him in more than one dangerous situation. Hiromasa rage is a force to be feared; when it takes control of his actions, nothing will stand in his way save for death, immobilization, or the need of his clansmen.

Special Skills: Besides his strengths as a melee combatant, Hiromasa is a fair leader and speaker, though besides rallying together his clan's Defenders, he has found little use for his affinity with speaking. The war affords little opportunity for idle conversation or even talk of treaties, leaving him as the silent Protector.

Appearance:

Clothing:

History: Born as the only son of Shunji Kusagari, the leader of the clan, Hiromasa was practically thrust into the middle of the war, learning swordplay before he could string sentences together and studying marksmanship from the age of seven. Talking about the war and battles fought out among the crumbling city, the other Kusagari filled Hiromasa’s head with visions of glory in battle and a life of war.

As he grew older, Hiromasa was eventually taught the secrets of the Kusagari and was presented with the belt which defined their technology; however, in order to be able to wear it into battle, he would be forced into conquering his fears. Shunji led his son, now eighteen, to the top of Kusagari tower in the center of the city and showed him the vast city around them, explaining the problems facing each and every member of their clan with respect to all the others. Shunji smiled the gentle grin of a father who knew what was going to happen next as he instructed his son to stand on the edge of the tower…and pushed him off. As Hiromasa fell, his mind screamed with one thought: safety. And thus, the field provided him with it. As the dust cleared around him, Hiromasa slowly stood up and looked around him in shock that he was alive, but with a boiling resentment against his father (he would later repeat this on his own as a ritual of sorts to clear his head or take out his frustrations, conquering his fears in the process).

From that moment onward, Hiromasa was the Kusagari’s Protector, charged with wielding their Qi Katana in battle, but he only did so out of a sense of duty to his Clansmen, not his father. Battle after battle, defending their territory from being crossed, Hiromasa found that his reputation grew among the other clans, so much so, that he eventually became known as the Buredo Kabe or Wall of Blades, a title which Hiromasa’s compatriots took to calling him right away. After some time of this, the Shunji decided it would be time to extend a branch of peace to Clan de Cascon (a decision which Hiromasa surprisingly approved of), who had never taken action against them. Dispatched with a team of Defenders, Hiromasa entered into the Eastern city bearing gifts for the long-lived warriors. As they approached the wooden barriers that had been erected to mark the beginning of Clan de Cascon’s territory, they were met with a shower of bullets. Retreating behind a building, Hiromasa and his envoy were swiftly followed by a small group of de Cascon clansmen, armed with high-powered rifles who told them simply, “Leave.” And although they did so, Hiromasa was at once taken with the woman who had spoken those words. Her confidence, demeanor, and endless beauty compelled him to turn down any advances from within his clan in the hopes of meeting her once more.

[Eva]

Name: Sunaina aka Suna.

Age: 33

Clan: Mercenary

Quote: "I don't see how all this fighting gets anything done, but that's fine. I know who signs my pay checks."

Abilities: Not a one.

Personality: Suna is a survivalist first and an everything else second. This doesn't mean that she is without a fun or even romantic side, but it does mean she has a limit to the amount of excess she'll allow herself to engage in.
Most situations in life have humor, and it's not hard for Suna to point them out. Her sardonic wit gets her in trouble often, and most people find it annoying if not unbearable at times, but it's one of the few things that amuses her.

Special Skills: Though she is without the clan abilities that mark the majority of dangerous warriors, Suna is still a force to be reckoned with. She is a jack of many trades, but master of only two. Suna is adept at blending in with her environment, and can wait in place for hours on end if need be. Aside from camouflage, Suna can pick rudimentary (i.e. not computer-based) locks and is a skilled pathfinder. But her most lethal skill is marksmanship, of course...

Weapon of Choice: Suna's preferred method of dealing with enemies is with guns. She vastly prefers rifles over more close-rang weapons, but if it has a trigger, Suna can use it to devastating results. Up close, a simple sword of any make will suffice, but Suna would rather avoid having to deal with that. Against the powerful technologies of the clans, Suna is at a distinct disadvantage, which is why she vastly prefers to stay at a distance and attack when the time is right. In a melee fight, Suna is not terrible, but don't expect anything impressive.

Appearance:

Clothing: Being a practical and not particularly wealthy woman, Suna will wear anything, really, that she can get her hands on. If it's not restricting or uncomfortable, that is. Currently her most prized possession is a brown dress that is in somewhat poor repair due to numerous scuffles that she has gotten into. But Suna values it because her wife gave it to her, so she views it as something of a good luck charm. When she's out in the deserts, Suna will wear more heavy clothing to protect herself from the elements.

History: One may wonder how a clanless woman learned how to use such advanced guns, enough to be considered something of a master with them. The answer is that Suna has always rented herself out as paid muscle to whomever could keep her fed and sheltered, ever since she was old enough to know how the world really works.

Suna's parents were both mercenaries, lending their services out to whomever would pay them. They were not the best, though they were above average in their abilities.

Hired thugs in this world do one of two things: die very quickly or become very sought after. Suna managed to achieve the latter, though not without considerable difficulty. She's never been wealthy or even well-off, as her payments go strictly towards keeping herself alive and honing her skills. Suna's crowning achievement in life, to herself, was the day she and several other thugs, working for Clan Kigurashi at the time, faced an entire group of Garrison clan members, all armed with the clan's plasma units. The battle, held near several abandoned buildings, was gruesome and difficult. Most of Suna's squad was destroyed early on, but through careful placement and deliberate timing, the remainder were able to whittle down the Garrison forces, one by one. A victory that would not be written in any books, but a victory nonetheless.

The battle was nothing personal, few things in Suna's life truly are. For nearly twenty years after picking up her first weapon, Suna has fought to stay alive in a world where such a thing is rarely allowed for the underprivileged. One may look down on Suna for not being born into power, but one cannot deny that she has earned what little power she does have.

Recently, Suna's contract with the Kigurashi has expired, and she is currently looking for the next paying job. At this point she's fought for and against every major clan, but that doesn't mean she won't get offers from all of them.

Extra:

Suna prefers working with Kigurashi and Kusagari, dislikes working with Garrison and Genji, and is fine with working for de Cascon.

[TragicAce]

Name: Noriko Genji, “Zenjin Norishi”
Age: 20
Clan: Genji

“If I had a wish,
that I meant not to regret…
pens; lighter then swords.”

Personality: Noriko is fairly melancholy on the whole. She has difficulty expressing herself; save for haikus, but in all honesty there’s not a profound amount to express. Of physical expressions she shows none, something beaten out of her during her intense training under Shinbei. But to say it’s caused her to grow cold and unfeeling is untrue, she’s just learned to keep all that inward. A hard shell to crack, the only whispers of what’s inside are told in five-seven-five.

Abilities: Hiten-shi Battojutsu-ryu. Noriko is the only student of recently deceased and revered Damascus Saint Tanaka Shinbei, a man who knew neither clan nor loyalties save to the art of the blade. The style (ryu) focuses on the releasing of four (shi) separate damascus-steel katanas in rapid succession, fully utilizing the extreme forces (hiten) of the jettisoned blades (battojutsu). Extremely taxing to the wielder, Shinbei died of over-exhaustion, before growing grey hairs.

Special Skills: Talented Haikuist

Weapon of Choice:
Heian, Kamakura, Kemmu, Ashikaga – Four Damascus Katanas, each alone costing more than a farmer could make in a lifetime. As the Zenjin Norishi will never wed a man, these four blades are her only consorts.

History:
Wealth is the family
poet born, but swordsman found
destiny reforged.

Sensei dismisses
fellow students rebuke her
soon they envy her.

Jealousy makes foes
steel is drawn, a children’s duel
flesh made blood so fast.

Death was discovered
But Sensei was very pleased
“I’ll take you with me.”

Teenaged years flew by
Training through sunset, sunrise
But it would not last

Sensei’s heart gave stop
Then Genji fell upon us
Like raindrops, relentless

Owned by new masters
No desire to resist
swordsman, now trophy

Now carried about,
By soldiers, ‘retainers’
This beautiful girl.

[NicoJoe]

Name: Archibald “Archie” Garrison.

Age: 29

Clan: Clan Garrison, friend.

Abilities: Nope.

Special Skills: Survival Archie’s game. Why, he’s been known to live out in that desert on his own, with little more than a pouch of water and a hunk of horse meat, and using only his hat and clouds of dust for shade for more than a month and come out of it with a tan and a smile on his face. Now, that story may have been morphed and exaggerated over many a drunken recounting of it, but the fact remains that he will never say die no matter what the circumstances. He’s a skilled horseman and has trained dozens of wild ones on his own. In addition, he’s quite the talker. He’s always been able to persuade people, through manipulation and charm if not straight up intimidation, to his way of thinking. Watch out though, get a few drinks in him and he may never shut up.

Weapon of Choice: Archie has spent his fair share (and the next guy’s fair share) at the gun range. He is well versed in all guns, a long ranged rifle being his favorite just for the rush you get from making a headshot from 200 yards, and is comfortable using them any time he needs to or just wants to. But don’t give him a sword or any type of melee weapon really. It’s not his thing

Appearance:

Clothing: Simple, mono-colored clothing that shows confidence. He isn’t a flashy person when it comes to what he wears, he wants only for comfort and functionality.

History: Archie’s line in the Garrison Clan has never been the most revered. He comes from servants, farmers, the bottom feeders of the family that garner no respect from the ruthless Garrisons. He grew up working with his mother in the farms after his, as his mother put it, “Good for nothin’, low life, kisama of a father, left them high and dry for a life out in that God forsaken desert. They did a honest days work and contributed what they could to the clan that treated them like third class citizens and they did it with pride; his mother always taught him to have pride in the Garrison’s no matter what. They were the family and one was to love and cherish the family no matter what. Archibald hated his mother. Her blind allegiance to a people who treated her like she was less than nothing disgusted him and he was determined to show her the error of her ways and gain the respect his line deserved.

But he had no idea how. No grand plan ever presented itself so instead he suffered his servitude in silence, desperately racking his brain for an idea, a way to prove his worth. That chance was presented to him on his 19th birthday. It was an unremarkable day, no one celebrated, no one even acknowledge it but that was to be expected. That night, however, a knock came at his window. When he pulled the curtains, a middle aged man with a worn face stared at him. Of course, the man was his father. Archie invited him in and he regaled him with stories of the wilderness, and of the group of bandits he’d been running with of their escapades. All of this fascinated Archibald so when his father invited the young man to join him on the road, he jumped at the chance and packed a bag. The reunited father and son left together, under the cloak of night.

For the next seven years, he learned all the skills a good bandit needs; survival, trapping, firearms, persuasion and intimidation, etc. And most importantly, he excelled in every one of them and quickly became one of the most skilled men in the desert and certainly one of the most dangerous and he became the leader of the group when his father decided to step down. However, disaster struck on their first raid with him at the helm. A young member of the group, Anson, betrayed him. He turned half of the bandits against him and massacred the rest of his men, including his father. Archie barely escaped into the wilderness; alone and shaken.

Having nowhere else to go, he returned to his mother. He told her a lie about how his father had come and taken him against his will and held him all this time and she believed him, happy to have her son back. He returned to work at the farm and waited for the rest of his soul to be sucked from him. He’d tasted adventure and power and now hated this life even more. But he suffered in silence for nearly a year. However, when the revitalized bandits, stupidly, attacked Archie’s farm (Garrison turf) he single handedly, and violently, killed 20 of them before any Garrison reinforcements could arrive. After hearing of his heroism, the powers that be within Garrison camp allowed him to join the warriors of the clan, where he has been rising through the ranks ever since.

[Vale]

Name: Garett de Cascon, more commonly known as “Guy” --Pronounced Gi

Age: Being a de Cascon, his body seems not a day older than 24. The sadness and wisdom kept behind his seemingly blank stare suggests age beyond reason.

Clan: de Cascon

Abilities: A high proficiency in the manipulation of the integrated nanobot system, Garett does not use it's rapid healing capabilities to heal wounds to his body as many of his other clansmen do, he uses it primarily to repair any aged or dying cells in his body. Although he believes this would make him 'eternal'--in that death by natural causes/aging are almost prevented entirely, unnatural death still trumps his healing factor. (As he says, “You can't regenerate a molten head wound.” ) Bullet wounds and lacerations however still can be healed, it heals at a slower rate in comparison to his clansmen due to his prioritization on sustaining his life as long as possible

Special Skills: Garett is one of the better de Cascon melee fighters, in that he prefers to keep a ranged approach to sword fighting, focusing on lunges and parries more so than the slashing and hacking motions of many others. A talented fencer, Garett is in possession of one of his clans most treasured artifacts—the Fleur du Noct.

Like any member of the de Cascon Clan, Garett has sharpshooter training that is relatively comparable to the average member of his clan.

Weapon of Choice:


The Fleur du Noct
With the tradition of Anders de Cascon, an unknown amount of additions and modifications were enacted upon the Qi Katana which was given to the clan. The creation of 'The Night Flower', as Anders had dubbed the masterpiece, has a firing mechanism integrated into the hilt, with a barrel fixed to the blunt side of the folded metal for the Qi Katana. Making the prototype for the de Cascon's trademark Rifle-Swords.
Sharpshooting:
(Garett can hit targets accurately from around 475 meters. Anything further and he runs into difficulties without proper tools and preparation)
Garett is more commonly seen using the rifle-esque capabilities of the Fleur in his fencing style. A parry with a bullet is far more practical than it is to reposition distance between combatants to gain a sharper shot.

Appearance: “They say that sadness knows no lover, almost as frequently as lovers know no sadness. These eyes, they've seen much in my life. And still they search. They will remain searching, until I have found The Truth.”
Garett has fairly unkempt windswept blonde hair which floats, drifts, and droops to roughly his eyes, the mark of someone seemingly detached from not only his surroundings, but also reality itself. His calm and rather passive behavior is met only by his solemn and sad expression which is forever plastered and smeared across his face.

Many who have crossed paths with Garett always remember his eyes---not that they are of any special hue, but they seem almost faded—that they have given up on the world around him, all the while emanating a sense of longing. Longing for a sense of purpose. Few in his own clan even wish to make eye contact with him, mostly due to the fact he is not only one of the oldest living 'de Cascon's, but that he is one of the most talented in combat as well as use of their sacred technology. Although many would say he is one of the most knowledgeable in the clan, but he seems to be on a life (very)long journey of discovery—of the self, and of the world.

Clothing:

History: Before the Clan Wars, Garett went by the name of 'Guy', acting 3rd in command to the leader Anders. He was chosen not only because of his great age, wisdom and natural stamina, but because of his talent in combat as well as his compassion to those who broke clan law. He was a shining example of balancing power with responsibility.

Being placed in such a position provided him with access to the Nanobot technology which was the core of their clans advanced healing capabilities, as well as being in line for the position of Katana Keeper. With resignation, did Guy take up the blade—mostly as a mark of manhood and position in the clan, as he cared little for the blade's destructive purposes.
Guy was a man of silence, solitude, and introspection. It wasn't until the death of the clan's 2nd Head, and Anders' younger brother, Aranai de Cascon at the hands of another rival clan.
With this forced 'promotion', Guy studied for years while wars broke out, studying not only combat, diplomacy. With the erratic behavior and activities of Anders—motives of which remain truly uncertain, Guy shunned his given name, and picked up the mantle of Garett, and currently acts as a nomadic leader in conjunction with Anders. Although more often than not, he is seen alone throughout the cityscape on his ever constant search for The Truth.

The Truth to what however, remains known only to him.

Extra: The necklace and chain functions as an atmospheric condenser. Able to, when given enough time, condense the atmospheric moisture into liquid form safe for consumption---provided the air around Garett is nontoxic.