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Topics - Dr. Gustave

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1
RPG Announcements / Happy (almost) 6th Anniversary, RWBY RPG!
« on: August 23, 2019, 09:57:19 PM »
Happy (almost) Sixth Anniversary, RWBY RPG!

As we finish out our sixth year on the site, enter our seventh, and move toward the seventh season of RWBY, there's some stuff that I've personally been thinking about in regards to not just the site but the show and fandom as a whole over the past two years. Over four years ago, we lost the dedicated and inspiring man who was behind the entire existence of all three of those things, without whom we wouldn't have ever been here. It has been said many times but Monty was truly someone to look up to, his work ethic was bar none, he was able to do what he truly loved, and he inspired people to improve their creative skills.

If you've been on this site since the beginning, if you've even been here for just a year, or if you've been anywhere in the Fandom where you're creating works of art whether it be drawn, written, or otherwise you can't deny that Monty changed your life even if it's in some small way. Maybe you were already a published author, maybe you never wrote a story or character in your life, maybe you had your art win contests, maybe you could only draw stick figures. No matter the starting point, I firmly believe that everyone is better off for having Monty in the world as he helped countless people strive to improve.

I genuinely believe that there isn't a single person, at the very least on this site, whose writing or art skills haven't improved from a year ago, even if only by a little bit. I want to repeat that part because I want to make sure you know I'm being entirely genuine and I'm honestly so happy to have found this community when I did. Had Monty not brought us together, I know at the very least I would still be writing like I was six years ago when I first joined the site. Hell, I probably wouldn't be writing at all.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in or out of the community that can't look up to Monty in at least one aspect, his works and work ethic were undeniable.

When we lost him, many were skeptical about Miles and Kerry taking over and whether you like or dislike how they've handled the show, it is impossible to deny that if they hadn't continued the work of their friend four years ago, we wouldn't be here today. The community would have burnt out and faded away. Because they carried on for Monty, because they put in the effort to not let his project die, we're still here, we're still writing and drawing and creating, we're still improving. Myself and the other members of the staff believe that this is an excellent time to thank the cast and crew of RWBY and pay tribute to Monyreak “Monty” Oum.

In the vein of this being a celebration of the community as a whole, we’re going to be heading a collaborative project involving members from several different sites. More specific project info can be found here but the quick and dirty is that we’re putting together a collection of writing and art created over this month to send to RT along with a thank you letter and (optional) signatures from everyone who submitted for the project.

The important thing is that we’re inviting people from RWBY Fanon Wikia and r/RWBY to participate in this project and that you should all be nice to our guests. They are, after all, still other creators in the same vein as you even if they’re from a different site.

After Monty's passing, Matt Hullum wrote:

“In lieu of flowers or gifts, we ask that you simply do something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can. If you know Monty like we do, then you know he would certainly be doing that if he were able to.”

I feel confident in saying that in the years since, we have all been doing creative work and that it's time we pay tribute and thank the staff for continuing Monty's work. We're allowing all who join to participate and at the end of the month, each and every prompt marked “Opt-in” will be compiled into a binder of stories put together by myself with a letter of thanks and an optional signature from each person who wrote in to be sent to RoosterTeeth. We had tried to get permission to compile the stories into a properly made and bound book by a print-on-demand service but despite multiple attempts at reaching out to roosterteeth’s fan project email we never got a response. This means it's most likely going to be made on my own with less than professional tools.

While all those who opt-in will be featured, we will have a vote to decide on the best response, one for writing and one for art, which will be at the very front of the binder, second only to a foreword and thank you letter.

“The goal isn't to live forever; it’s to make something that does.” - Monty Oum

It's been a fantastic six years of RWBY, here's to many more.

Discord for collaboration: https://discord.gg/dfUWzJd
Writing and art prompt threads: https://rwbyfanon.com/index.php?board=56.0

2
Collaboration Event / Art Thread
« on: August 23, 2019, 09:36:28 PM »
If you haven't read the anniversary post yet, please do so here.

There's some group specific info so I'll go over that first.

The prompt is a general prompt, just create what comes to mind.

Images must be at a 300ppi resolution.

A RWBY setting is required. This means it can be the canon rwby universe or any AU you can think of, just make sure you have permission to write in the AU if it's something made for an existing fic or something.

No sexual content or graphic violence.

The submission can take the form of a comic, single piece, stick figures, whatever you want.

At the top of the submission you must include: A title, self-explanatory; your name or internet moniker, you can really use whatever name you want since it’s nothing official; “opt-in” or “opt-out”, opt-in means you want the submission included in the collaborative project, opt-out means you don’t but you just want to participate.

(Don’t worry, there’s a submission format at the bottom)

Voting for the winner will begin shortly after the beginning of October as a one week grace period will be allowed for anyone close to finishing who hasn't by the end of the month. Voting will be done by giving members of the staff sets of submissions to pick their best from and then picking the best from the best. The submissions given will not have any names attached and will be given out randomly with the exception of no member being given their own submission. I will be giving them the sets and will not be voting myself.

The main focus of all this should be on creating itself and giving tribute to Monty and everyone on the CRWBY team, we should be striving to create something that we can look back and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own art as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to the staff on the discord server we set up here. Only official responses can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

In addition, this thread will be locked until the last week of September in order to encourage putting more time into refining the submission. If you feel like you genuinely might forget to submit it and feel entirely done with your submission you can private message it to me here on the site.


The prompts are


Keep moving forward.
Celebrate Creation.
Those unforgettable days.


Remember, the best outcome of this is people who work on RWBY reading some of these stories. Don't create anything too tasteless.

Format

Quote
Title
Username | Name
Opt-In | Opt-out
Canon | What-if | N/A

Submission

3
Collaboration Event / Writing Thread
« on: August 23, 2019, 09:34:37 PM »
If you haven't read the anniversary post yet, please do so here.

There's some group specific info so I'll go over that first.

Guests

Those who joined the site from other sites and only for this, this applies to you. A RWBY setting is required. This means it can be the canon rwby universe or any AU you can think of, just make sure you have permission to write in the AU if it's something made for an existing fic or something. No sexual content or graphic violence. You don't need to worry about writing canon or what-if on your submissions, that's users-only but you do need to specify opt-in or opt-out.

Users

People who actually have characters, this applies to you. I don't have to tell you no sexual content or graphic violence, you should know. If your submission is canon, proceed as usual, if it is what-if, this seems like a good time to remind you that the rules generally don't apply in that kind of response. Canon characters are all fine for what-ifs as well as whatever else you want as long as it's not from another IP and doesn't violate what I've already said. In addition, this is a reminder that no matter what, canon or what-if, you are required to have permission of the creator before using another's character in your story at any capacity.

General

The prompt is a general prompt, just write about what comes to mind.

No word count minimum or maximum.

The submission can take the form of a poem, written song, hell you can sing a song if you want but I can’t exactly put that in a book.

At the top of the submission you must include: A title, self-explanatory; your name or internet moniker, you can really use whatever name you want since it’s nothing official; “opt-in” or “opt-out”, opt-in means you want the submission included in the collaborative project, opt-out means you don’t but you just want to participate; “Canon” or “What-if”, this really only applies to people with proper characters on site.

Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline or whatever, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while not being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

(Don’t worry, there’s a submission format at the bottom)

Voting for the winner will begin shortly after the beginning of October as a one week grace period will be allowed for anyone close to finishing who hasn't by the end of the month. Voting will be done by giving members of the staff sets of submissions to pick their best from and then picking the best from the best. The submissions given will not have any names attached and will be given out randomly with the exception of no member being given their own submission. I will be giving them the sets and will not be voting myself.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself and giving tribute to Monty and everyone on the CRWBY team with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

Just because you have a month to write doesn't mean you should spend the entire time writing new content. A short, well crafted story can mean much more than a long, poorly crafted one. Once you have what you like, spend the rest of the time editing and shining it up.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to the staff on the discord server we set up here. Only official responses can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

In addition, this thread will be locked until the last week of September in order to encourage putting more time into refining the submission. If you feel like you genuinely might forget to submit it and feel entirely done with your submission you can private message it to me here on the site.


The prompts are


Keep moving forward.
Celebrate Creation.
Sing a song of the Future.


Remember, the best outcome of this is people who work on RWBY reading some of these stories. Don't write anything too tasteless.

Format
Quote
Title
Username | Name
Opt-In | Opt-out
Canon | What-if | N/A

Submission

4
Approved Characters / Durian Ghede
« on: July 04, 2019, 08:48:55 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Durian Ghede

Age: 22

Species and Gender: Male Ram Faunus

Symbol: Toubiyon



Occupation: Freelance Hospital Worker/Huntsman Drop-Out

Appearance: Standing at 5’9” and weighing 143 lbs., Durian is a somewhat lanky individual. His dark, raven-colored hair is done up in the early stages of twist outs, only reaching a few inches off his head and staying well out of the way of his light, amber eyes. His faunus origin is up front and in your face with a pair of ivory ram horns that jut up from the back of his skull and curl forward and down, nearly brushing the bottoms of his ears. Having lived in Vacuo he's never made any attempt to hide his origin, though when visiting other kingdoms or villages he tends to wear a hood, as much good as that will do with hiding horns.

His outfit is exceedingly monochromatic and all just a little too baggy for his slight frame. He wears a pair of black boots, black pants, a black short-sleeved undershirt and a large, white, zip-up hoodie with three black lines circling the right arm and black drawstrings. He tends to only wear the hoodie when he's out of Vacuo but will even wear it there if he's had a particularly bad day.

While he bears no special markings or blemishes, the white of the hoodie has a faint, light brown tint from its short time being worn in Vacuo.

History:
Pre-Shade: ShowHide
Born in the harsh wastes of the Vacuan desert, Durian was brought into the world needing to constantly adapt and overcome his surroundings. Even within the relative comfort of his tribe, danger was always around the corner. Would the oasis they had traveled to be occupied by bandits? Would a sandstorm wipe away the hurriedly built structures? Animals? Grimm? His parents did little to dissuade his fears with his father dying before he was born and his mother having gone missing in the desert when he was only a toddler and the tribe had to leave another settlement, forcing him to be raised by his grandmother. She did her best to raise a child she never asked to be handed, teaching Durian and letting him learn to fight with some of the village’s “hunters”.

They were by no means true huntsmen, not someone who could hunt the likes of Grimm, they were simply people who knew how to fight and defend themselves and their village as well as being able to take down lone mole crabs for food. From time to time that included Grimm, yes, but they were far from specialized in the field. They taught Durian and the other children how to survive, despite his natural clumsiness in a fight. It was apparent from a young age that, while not skilled in combat, he was skilled in tactics. He stayed there, learning from the hunters when he wasn’t out with the rest of his village gathering supplies, learning lessons with the other children, maintaining fruit harvests or simply surviving.

Of course, in a world like this, a tribe in the desert being swept away by the sand is all too common. The attack came quickly and was over in a flash. The bandits came bearing superior weapons and abilities, killed everyone who fought back, and stole away with those who didn’t. Durian’s grandmother ordered him to hide under his bed and the bandits, not caring or not noticing him, went on sacking the village for anything worth their time- food, water, valuables, ammunition. Anything that could be taken and sold or used. Durian was 16 at the time and unlike many other would be huntsmen who would have found their lives cut short at the blade of a bandit, he did what he was ordered.

He hid under his bed, cowering with his hands covering his mouth and his back to the wall as he could hear his friends and family being killed, his grandmother being struck down from trying to defend the home she’d raised her grandson in. He could feel something inside of him wrench around with each short yell that cut through the utter quiet of a desert night and he continued to hide. He hid as they stormed into his house and stole away with his things, he hid as he could hear them laughing around a small fire outside, he hid as the moon fell and the sun rose and he hid until he could bear the hunger and thirst no more.

Cautious and afraid, Durian slid his way out from under the bed, only to be met with a session of dry heaving as he saw his deceased grandmother, the person who’d raised him in his parent’s absence. He avoided looking at her and made his way outside into the harsh sun, trying his best to tiptoe around the corpses that littered his home. He shuffled to the small oasis that the makeshift village had surrounded and collapsed into the water, staying there for a moment too long and contemplating never leaving before bursting out and inhaling a deep, shuttered breath. He drank the water and at the scarce fruit too ripe for the bandits to bother taking as he both tried to think about his situation in order to come up with a plan and avoid thinking what was just behind him entirely.

Eventually, the small amount of resolve within him won over and he made his way back to the village and waited for the shifting sands to cover the bodies of his tribe, praying for the gods to be good to them in the next life like his grandmother taught him.

He stayed there in the village for several days, drinking the water of the oasis and eating the bitter ripe fruit. What choice did he have? He couldn’t just brave the desert, that was just as useful as staying under the water. The Vacuan desert was enormous, teeming with Grimm, bandits, and other hostile wildlife. There wasn’t any food, barely any water, no markers to show he was going the right direction and the sands constantly shifted around him. As far as he knew, he would just stay until the food ran out and then… well, he didn't want to think about what would come after. The choice to stay or go was forced on him on the third day.

On the horizon, as he was gathering the last of the fruit, he saw an enormous, shifting cloud of pitch black. It was something he’d heard about only in whispers and warning around the tribe, The Shiru. A monsterous grimm that stopped at nothing to destroy settlements, bringing with it a horde of other grimm to kill any who try to escape. There was one, and only one, plan if that thing ever made its way toward the village. Everyone packs up and begins moving in the exact opposite direction, so that’s what Durian did. He collected the handful of fruit that was left, he found a small container for water, and he began to book it across the desert.

In some ways, The Shiru saved him. Had he left a day earlier or later, even an hour, he wouldn’t have had the good fortune to run into a small caravan of traders making their way back to Vacuo from another village. Had he not caught them, he wouldn’t have been able to do the only thing he knew he could do when he arrived in Vacuo, take Shade’s entrance exam. He’d never met a huntsman in his life, never knew their lifestyle, but he’d heard tales and he was taught to fight. That was enough. They were strong, they were superhuman in their own right, they could be hit by a train and get back up again. They would be strong enough to fight back against the bandits. The Grimm were a problem, of course, but they were far from the primary problem in Durian’s mind.

By all rights, Durian’s tactical mind was the sole savior when he took the exam. His combat skills were mediocre at best and even though his tribes hunters had given him lessons with the other village kids, it was far from a formal education. The examiner told him that if not for his ability to work through and organize some of the tougher questions he would have had no chance of getting in.


Shade: ShowHide
He did get in though, and thanks to his mind, he was made team leader of Team DFDL (Daffodil) along with his partner Flora and his two teammates Dalia and Loquat. The team quickly bonded over their initiation with each of them being very open to Durian’s plans and suggestions but he was especially taken by Flora. There was something about her pearlescent skin, her blonde hair, her seafoam-green eyes, her voice, her her that made him feel something he hadn’t before. It wasn’t something he understood or knew, in the village there wasn’t anything like dating, there weren’t couples, there were only those who were life partners and those who weren’t. He didn’t know how to talk about that, especially not to her. So he didn’t.

Durian kept quiet about his feelings for his partner and admired from just outside of the frame, watching as she grew and won her fights and survived the school. He was… content like that. He wanted more but he was happy as he was just getting to watch someone who would become his best friend succeed over and over again.

Death is more than common in the world of huntsmen and huntresses and that seemed especially true for Durian. It was their first solo mission, no huntsman shadowing them and no huntsman to shadow. The task was simple, go and defend a village for a night, there wasn’t even a promised threat there had only been reports of raised tensions among the tribe. Flora and Loquat were both close range fighters while Dalia was a long range fighter so the plan was simple. Durian, Flora, and Loquat would patrol the perimeter while Dalia took up position on top of one of the buildings to provide a bird’s eye view, Durian would travel with Loquat  on one end while Flora would patrol on the other as she was a far more accomplished fighter than either of them.

There wasn’t any cry of help or assistance that brought Durian and Loquat running to the opposite side of the village, only a single shot that rang out in the quiet desert night. As Durian ran, he looked up and saw Dalia’s rifle trained toward where Flora was supposed to be patrolling and as he rounded the corner with his breath in his throat, he saw her. Alive. At her feet was the body of a larger man with a single bullet hole in his skull. Durian let out a sigh he’d been holding but before he could even thank the gods another shot rang out, this time from the darkness of the night and eliciting a scream of pain from Dalia. As all three of the students whipped their heads up and around toward their teammate, there was another sound. A shorter one.

A gasp of breath cut short as if hitting a wall followed by a wet cough and groan. Durian whipped his head around and saw a spear jutting out of Flora’s stomach, piercing her aura. The next few moments were a blur and even if durian wanted to recall the events, he would be hard pressed to do so. There was fighting, screams, gunshots, yells for help. In the end, they somehow fought off the bandits. They left several dead or dying at their feet but by the time they were safe…

Durian looked down at the lifeless body of his teammate, his partner, the person he loved and something inside him snapped. He didn't cry out, he didn't sob, he only collapsed down to the ground and began to lose his breath. He tried to take in air but nothing came, he gripped his chest as he felt an anchor of weight appear in his chest and he dug his hands into the sand. In the midst of his frantic breathing, he could feel it, feel them. Inside of him. He clenched his palms as a forced rocked through his body and as he looked up to the sound of Loquat gasping, he saw her. He could see through her to the dark sand dunes beyond and she looked down at him, expressionless, with bright amber eyes that stood out against the light blue of the rest of her visage but he could tell it was her.

His grandmother stood there, not moving, not speaking, only looking at him with those unblinking eyes. Her form wisped and wavered in the desert wind but didn't disappear. He was speechless as he stood up and collapsed into her, wrapping his arms around her and finally starting to let out his tears. She only stood there, unmoving. In that moment, something else clicked inside Durian and he could see them, each and every one of them.

 Dozens of them, his fellow villagers, the bandits that laid dead at his feet, Flora. He could see part of them all inside of himself. In a moment of panic and confusion he laid down his hands onto Flora-- maybe if he could return it to her, maybe if he could bring her back then this would all--

The form of his grandmother faded away and began to grow into place around Flora's body. The shimmering form of his grandmother, now fully in her own color, looked up to him and smiled. She wrapped her arms around him and let him scream into her, letting everything that had built since her final night out into the night air.

Eventually, morning came and an academy caravan came to pick up the team. Durian was silent the entire way back even in the face of attempted comfort from Dalia and Loquat. He was silent as it dropped them off at Shade and he was silent as they all went to bed. In the morning, he told them he was staying in from classes today and to go without him. Once they were gone, he packed his things, collected his money, and he booked the first airship ticket to Vale.


Post-Shade: ShowHide
Durian never went back to Vacuo, never tried to get into contact with his former teammates and never answered their messages on his scroll outside from a simple “I’m alive.” to Loquat. He found a cheap hotel in Vale and he stayed there for a week, trying to work through everything that was going on inside him, his semblance, what he could do. It was obvious now that the huntsman’s life was not what he wanted or needed. He'd heard stories from other students when he'd entered about death and loss but he never thought… What he needed now was to figure out what was for him. He thought about how crushed he'd felt to lose Flora without even getting to say goodbye, how happy he'd been to see and talk with his grandmother again, how he could still feel dozens of… souls inside of him. Fragments. How he couldn't feel his grandmother anymore.

He began testing in his hotel room with the expendable ones, the scum, the bandits. He created shade after shade after shade and tested what he could do with them but no matter what, he couldn't replicate what he'd done with his Grandmother. They came in a multitude of colors but all had what he had to assume was their original eye color even through the glow of their bodies. There was only one thing he could do, one idea that might be able to help him get set back on the right track.

Vale was home to Beacon Academy, the largest and most accomplished Huntsman academy in the world, surely someone there would be able to help him make sense of it all. So he set out for the academy, quickly learning that Vale had a much different view on faunus than Vacuo. He heard whispers of “freak”, “monster”, “devil” and as much as he wanted to, could he even argue? If he really had souls of the dead inside of him wasn't he keeping them from moving on? Wasn't he a monster? Someone stuck their leg out as he was walking with a crowd of people and he fell down into the hard concrete, scraping his hands as he tried to catch himself.

When he finally arrived at Beacon, he had a new, large hoodie on with the hood fully covering his head and obscuring his horns. He found a professor and explained his situation but because he wasn't a student they couldn't help him in an official capacity. They told him to try to go to the hospital, that his semblance sounded like he might be able to temporarily revive the dead, that it might be useful for grieving families. They had tried to convince him to attend classes at Vale, that they would be able to properly help him and get him back on his path but he couldn’t imagine going back to that life.

Durian did as he was told just like when he was a kid and as he worked with the hospitals, he slowly began to understand what his semblance was. Over the next three years, he built a rapport with the hospitals around Vale and even made trips out to the smaller settlements to assist there. He began to expend the shades at his disposal one by one until all that was left was Flora. Sweet, beautiful Flora. He'd never tried to delve into her soul, he was too afraid of what the answer might be and now, in a moment where he could be free of the burden and guilt, he was too afraid of what letting go would mean. He kept her, selfishly. Her fragment is still there today, he's never tried to use her once, he couldn't dream of it. The longer he held her, the more the guilt grew and the more the guilt grew the harder it was to bring himself to let her go. The harder it was to let her go, the longer he held her.

Now Durian lives in a small studio apartment in the residential district of Vale. He keeps to himself, trying to hide his faunus features and go unnoticed most of the time he's not working at the hospital. He doesn't prefer the stagnation but it's the only thing he can think to do.


Personality: Before unlocking his semblance, Durian was a kind and thoughtful kid, if a bit socially lacking. After unlocking his semblance he very much drew into himself. It is not uncommon for him to have intrusive thoughts of him being around powerful people as they die and using them to gain more power, ideas that he could, if he played his cards right, be unstoppable. He hates this, hates everything about this, and because of it he is of two minds about himself and his semblance.

On one hand, he feels immensely happy that he's able to give people one last talk with people they love, to let them get everything out that they can. It's almost cathartic for him to let others get their final words when he couldn't have the same with his mother and father and to let them live on without as many regrets.

On the other hand, he feels guilty when he helps people like this and he hates that he feels guilty and hates that he hates it. It's a vicious cycle of resenting others for getting the closure he never got and being angry with himself because he can't just not help them.

It's a cocktail of emotions that lay just below the surface, from the outside he tries his best to stay stone faced as people break down into tears or yell and scream or give their final goodbyes to his shades.

At the same time, separate from the actual act of helping, he hates that his semblance is what it is. It can help others, of course, but it's clearly not meant to. With every shade that he has, he understands how they fight and how well, what their semblance was exactly and how to use it. Every time he “captures” someone, he knows exactly how useful they would be in a fight. He knows he could be great and powerful if he was still a huntsman and that's why he left. It would be far too easy in a job like that, surrounded by death, to bend toward the corrupted side. He hates the idea of what he's capable of and yet almost every day he has intrusive thoughts telling him to go through with it.

All that said, Durian is not one to ignore, put away, or deflect his problems or shortcomings, perceived or otherwise. His problem is born from indecisiveness. While he is able to look at his problems and work through them in his head and can see both sides of the problem, he very rarely can come to a conclusion. This permeates through almost his entire life, save for combat planning where he feels almost at home and free of stress.

Durian is far from a social person. While he'll be willing and able to make conversation if he's prompted or interested, he generally won't seek out conversation. He much prefers to keep to himself and his own thoughts. Even though he may not like keeping to himself, he at least knows and understands his own thoughts.

This antisocial behavior extends to most of his life. He doesn't make friends easily and the friends he made at Shade came about purely through continuous and forced interaction through teams or classes, not that he didn't enjoy having friends. He has work acquaintances at the hospital, but he doesn't interact with them outside of work. In fact, most of his time outside of work is spent in his small apartment or out buying groceries.

The rare times that he's actually convinced to go out with his coworkers for a night, it usually takes a good couple of drinks before he can loosen up enough to actually enjoy their company and talk freely. Unsurprisingly, much of the talk turns back toward him having his aura unlocked and having a semblance but by that point he's usually loosened up enough to feel comfortable shutting it down. When he can, he likes to turn it back onto them and hear how they actually did that day and hear how they helped people. After all, despite working in a hospital, he's not actually a registered nurse or doctor.

Despite getting two years into becoming a huntsman himself, Durian has come to see the academies in another light. Not for what they do or what they stand for but because of how young the huntsmen are when they get sent into fight Grimm. He has no problem or issue with the actual idea of huntsmen, he understands the necessity, but he fervently disagrees with what he views as child soldiers, especially in Atlas’ case.

His move from Vacuo to Vale brought with it many noticeable changes, least of which isn't racism and the white fang. He hates the white fang, always has since he learned about them in Vacuo. He hates that they've resorted to violence in response to hate. After moving to Vale, though, he can understand how they may have come to that answer. He still doesn't agree with or approve of the white fang but now that he's had to deal with daily life in Vale, even one of the more tolerant kingdoms, he can at least understand them.

Aura and Semblance: Durian's aura is a swirling golden-yellow, though when he has other auras within him from his semblance it takes has flecks and small swirls of other colors. While his aura was unlocked at Signal, his semblance was partially unlocked before. While the ability to absorb unlocked during his grandmother's death, the ability to project unlocked at his teammate’s death.

Psychopomp
[Semi-Passive]
 
Durian is able to create solid shades, or aura constructs, of those that pass away in his presence. He passively absorbs and stores a small amount of the deceased's aura as they pass and use it with some of his own aura to create shades. These shades appear as vaguely translucent versions of what the target looked like as they died, including clothing and injuries though they don't have their own original colored clothing or skin tone, all color is replaced by the color of their aura while they were alive.
 
These shades have two “forms” and which form is sent out depends on how much Durian focuses.
 
The standard shade will appear as above but will only be able to be given rough mental commands such as “attack” or “defend”. The actual words aren't as important as the idea behind them. Durian can expend up to 10 shades at once while still being able to move around and act normally while these shades are being used, any more and he has to stand still. However, each Shade has one lifetime use unless not used for a month. With each month it goes without being used, it gains an additional use. This means if Durian has a shade and doesn't use it for 3 months and then uses it, he has 2 uses left. If a shade goes unused, he could theoretically store one forever.
 
These shades can exist up to an hour before being forcefully canceled, but they get 10% weaker every 6 minutes. They can only move around within 30 meters of Durian. In a tourney setting, the shade of a 1st year student has a 10% aura counter, with 5% added for every year with a graduate being at 30%. In more abstract settings, or in situations where the exact aura level isn’t important, a shade has 10% of the original character’s aura.
 
The second form requires Durian to stay still, only being able to move his head to look around or talk, although he can see through the eyes of his shade if he wants. These shades are opaque and appear just like they did in life, any injuries that lead to their death healed. They can receive much more complex commands but even beyond that, they appear to have the same personality, voice, and mannerisms as the original deceased did in life as well as a similar aura pool, though durian can alter the personality and force them to say what he wants them to say if need be. This is known by some of the hospital staff and has been used in the past to calm the shades of those who were angry at the time of their death or to fill in words where the shade would have not been able to answer on its own but it’s not public knowledge.
 
To create the second form of the shades, in addition to standing still, Durian needs to use a chunk of flesh, approximately the mass of a baby pig, that has been sufficiently soaked in a living being's aura. In other words, Durian needs live flesh or very recently removed flesh of a human, faunus, or animal. Or a lot of plant matter. Durian can then use this flesh as a "base" for the shade so that it can form around it using the deceased's, Durian's, and the remnants of the flesh's aura to bind the process.
 
Once used in this form, despite how many months have passed, Durian will no longer be able to use the shade. However, the shade will have a comparable aura defense as they did in life due to a mixture of three sources. These shades will never fade out when used, they only go away when Durian manually cancels them or they are brought down in a fight.

Durian can only have a single second level shade out at a time and while one is out he can only summon two other first level shades.
 
While all shades appear with the weapons they most commonly used in life, if any, only the second form shades can use a watered down version of their semblances.
 
As a secondary effect of the semblance, Durian has an intuitive understanding of the combat abilities and semblances of those he absorbs and he can turn his attention inward to "observe" the pieces of aura that he's absorbed and can try to understand what kind of person they were. 

Current Shades
Flora: ShowHide
Name: Flora Quinn

Age: 19 at the time of death, would be 22 now

Species and Gender: Human Female

Appearance: Flora had bright blonde hair that fades into pink highlights at the tips and seafoam-green eyes. She was slightly plump with a round face. At her time of death, she was wearing a fairly simple outfit with a red, short sleeved crop top, a pair of dark navy jeans, combat boots, and lightly colored poncho over it all with crossing floral designs. Appears as a light pinkish red shade.

Background: Flora was Durian's teammate who had died during their first solo mission.

Personality: Flora was a mostly upbeat person, always trying to spur on her teammates for laughs. Her happy face was a mask she wore to cover up some repressed events from her childhood in Vale but Durian hasn't looked into the fragment enough to know what happened and why.

Aura and Semblance: Flora had a strong and red aura and it wasn't known where she unlocked it or her semblance.

Her semblance is the ability to create an illusory clone of herself and control it. She can either control it directly or set it to tasks, either vague or specific, and doesn't need to be distracted from what she's doing. The clone makes no sound and is not physical in any way. If Flora is attacked, the moment before the hit connects with her aura she and the clone reactively swap places, when this happens the clone takes the hit and disappears. If the clone is attacked, Flora will reactively teleport to its space and the clone with explode in a soft force, shunting anything (such as a sword) that would be in Flora's space out of the way before she teleport in.

Combat Behavior: Flora was a strong frontline fighter and relies heavily on the tried and true “hit it hard until it stops moving” method. She was efficient as using her semblance to disorientate her opponent. She has no real answer to a ranged opponent and would often leave that fight for her teammates.

WEAPON

Name: Celice

Primary Form: Celice is a large Warhammer in its primary form. 4'6” long on total and consisting of a wooden grip and shaft with swirling silver workings throughout it, ending in the silver head. The hammer side is a fairly standard hammer with the exception of a gun barrel being worked into it while the spiked side is much thicker and curved downward.

When the hammer side connects with something with enough force, it will force out a shotgun blast from the head into the target. The ammo can be loaded from the shaft of the warhammer.

Secondary Form: With the flick of a switch, Celice's spiked end extends out and down into a 2’ long scythe blade.

Dust Functions: The warhammer can be loaded with different forms of dust for additional effects such as an ice or fire blast.

Shade Uses Available: 29 First Level/ 1 Second Level


At any given time during Durian's work day, he may have a number of other shades stocked up from patients who have passed in the hospital. These shades are generally not notable and are only basic mundane people. He will summon them all once he’s off work in order to let them move on.


Inside Baseball: ShowHide
 While not wrong, Durian doesn’t understand the full grasp of his semblance, either by willful ignorance by viewing it as keeping souls from entering an afterlife or just by him truly not understanding the more varied use for the semblance. The semblance, at its core, is the ability to absorb, store, and redirect aura of something that is dying and beyond all possible saving. If, theoretically, someone died, had part of their aura absorbed, then was somehow brought back to life with some revival semblance or something, they would come back missing a chunk of their aura.

Of course, aura cannot survive in a vacuum, it’s the manifestation of a soul and without the soul, there is no manifestation. That said, Durian’s semblance takes a chunk of the soul in order to sustain the aura within him. Durian cannot communicate with any soul fragment that’s stored in him but he can “read” it, as stated above. However, these are foreign souls residing in a foreign body. It won’t be immediate, Durian would never notice, and even those outside observers who do wouldn’t think anything supernatural of it, but over time these souls tend to have a bleeding effect with Durian’s.

For the easiest example, if he were to go on a murder rampage and take over the world by killing good guys and storing them within himself for future use, he would start to take on traits of the good guys. He’d start to regret what he’d done and see the error of his ways. Similarly, if he went on a crusade against villainy and scum, he would slowly become more and more brutal, more cutthroat, more villainous as he continued. He’d start to think maybe being the good guy isn’t for him. Again, these are extremely slow changes similar to how someone would naturally progress their personality through life and would be indistinguishable from the outside from a normal personality change and the examples are extremely broad strokes.

From a practical standpoint, there is no limit to how many souls or aura fragments Durian can store within him, though the more he has, the more they influence him. If his soul is 100% of something and each fragment is only 1% then by ten people he’ll already have a tenth of himself being influenced by the other souls. Now, of course, the souls will never be in total agreement, they won’t be one mass that has a directive, they were all their own person in life after all. The changes would be small, sometimes contradictory, but always with a cause. Of course, this isn’t a one way street. The longer a fragment is within him, the less it’s like itself and the more it’s like Durian or the cavalcade of other fragments in him to the point where when it’s finally summoned out it might not act anything like the original person if it’s kept long enough.

With the actual application of the semblance, he currently uses aura-soaked flesh as what is essentially a temporary phylactery to hold the fragment of soul in order to properly manifest the aura. This is a fine application and actually more useful than the “intended” use in some ways. Since it requires aura soaked flesh to be the basis of the shade, there is nothing stopping Durian from using his own or someone else’s living body and essentially overlaying a shade on top of him, or only a part of one such as an arm, in order to use extra protection while still having access to the watered down semblance.

In order for him to do that, though, he needs significantly more practice with his semblance. Overlaying a patchwork of shades in only parts over his body means being able to maintain multiple second-level shades and still be able to move. Even now if he tried it, he’d have to overlay a single shade and, since he can’t move, essentially puppeteer his own body by moving the shade.

The actual means by which Durian snatches onto a departing soul is by way of invisible, intangible tendrils. For every person in Durian's 10 meter range, there is a single tendril that connects him to them. The tendril is constantly feeding Durian with information on their vitals so that his semblance knows when exactly to snatch part of the soul but Durian isn't consciously aware of any of the information. At most, he might have a gut feeling that someone is closer to death than someone else and he would be able to feel whenever someone dies in his range. They cannot be seen by any means outside of a specialized semblance and they cannot be cut or interacted with. They can pass through solid objects and even aura barriers.


Combat Behavior: Durian is by no means a front line fighter. In a one on one confrontation against anyone stronger than a single Beowolf he will undoubtedly lose. In terms of defense, he's no tank. Below average at best and a runt at worst, he tries his best not to get hit by dodging out of the way but even that, after years of inaction, has been made largely ineffective.

His strength comes from his ability to plan and use others in combat. If he has a group of other people he's in charge of, he has a knack of being able to understand what they can do and how they work. Similarly, this extends to opponents. He can determine, with some room for error, how the opponent fights, what their semblance might be, and how they might be beaten back faster than the average person but not too much faster.


While entirely unable to fight well on his own, he can send others in how he wants and, if it goes according to plan, his team will often leave successful.

This is, of course, an incredibly useful skill to have in tandem with his semblance. Having complete control over a legion of shades that he can expend while still avoiding the fight would be a strategist’s wet dream if he actually wanted to use it.

He doesn't, though. He doesn't have anyone to tell what to do in a fight either. In these hypothetical scenarios, he could be formidable to mankind and Grimm but as he is now, he only wants to avoid that.

- Basically beat by anyone in a fair 1 on 1 fight
- Weak aura shielding
- Slow to dodge
- Doesn't want or like to fight
- Dork


+ Excellent mind for strategy and using other’s strength to their fullest

WEAPON

Name: Aisa

Primary Form: Aisa is a Dagger. The weapon itself is very minimalistic for a huntsman’s weapon, much of the handle is a silvery metal with polished wooden grips on either side and a small trigger near where his forefinger would be. The blade is similarly a very standard metallic blade, though there is a very fine gap where the edge of the blade would be. With the trigger held down, the actual edge emerges from the slot, it can be coated with any kind of dust, though most often it is loaded with a combination of electric and a very fine amount of ice dust to cause a very short taser effect.

History: While originally having no name when he built it in Oasis, it was named Aisa after the end of his first year at Shade. Since his leaving the school, it has been left mostly unused but always hanging from his hip in its sheath.

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I'm leaving this here to edit later

6
Plot Zone / Market Posting #WIJ851W3A8
« on: March 22, 2019, 07:39:33 PM »
The man with a hazel eye walked through the darkened underbelly of Mistral, mud caked boots scuffing against the rough stonework that made up much of the Market. The dim lit bulbs that were strung up against the low hanging ceiling cast blurry shadows over the faces of the patrons that lined the walls, standing on the outside of alcoves in the rock that acted as impromptu shops or meeting areas.

It was an intentional effect set up by the people at the top, a small and inconvenient stopgap to protect the identities of those who didn't want to wear a mask. It wasn't something he took into consideration, for him it was as pointless as a pair of glasses as a disguise. He could see those around him with perfect clarity, not like a faunus could. Not with enhanced vision, not with enhanced smell.

He could see them.

Rapists. Murderers. Human traffickers.

Undercover kingdom agents. Hunters looking for trouble. Parents desperate to save their children.

The Market drew all.

He wasn't here for any of them, though. On another day, he might peruse them- find who was willing able to pay the most and take the job. He didn't much care what they wanted, why they wanted it, who would get hurt. He learned a long, long time ago that the world was shit and no lone person could change that.

He was much more concerned about living his life to the best of his abilities and to that affect he needed money. Money to pay for shelter, money for food, money for women, money for fun. Money was easy to come by for someone with his skills, killing people was expensive work- hunters more so- but information, that was what people wanted most. And he was very good at gathering and selling information.

He could see the man before he was seen. Muscle bound and with a perpetual grimace stretched across his face and two flat ears folded against his hair. A front. He could tell who he actually was.

A flood of information, a series of flashes of pinprick images, all forced into a line moving in one direction and only ever one direction. All things he can and has used before.

The man gave a curt nod as the man with a hazel eye approached him, “Eli.” One of the many nom de plum he had used. You could never be too safe, too paranoid, about people tracking you through names, no one knew that better than “Eli”.

Jonathan.” Another alias, though Jonathan didn't know that Eli knew.

He returned the nod with a small smile, “How's your kid? He doin’ well?” Another lie, another front. He had a kid, a daughter, that Eli knew. Eli also knew it was better to play the part of someone who'd fallen for the story and to empathize with it, to sink his claws deeper. They were things someone like “Jonathan” would respond well to.

He's doing just fine. Can't say I expected to see you here today,” his voice rough, forced, but the kind of forced you'd only notice if you knew to look for it.

Well, you know I like to make surprise visits, keep you on your toes. Besides, today I'm selling.

That got a cocked brow. Good.

Valuable info, I know it suits your interests and I know you're good for what I want in return. That's why I'm giving you first dibs.” Eli reached into his beaten and worn jacket and pulled out a small data chip, curling it over his fingers as he spoke

How much?

Twelve.” The answer came gunslinger quick.

His brow quickly dropped back.

That's not something I'm authorized to give out,” he said, “you know that.

Oh, I know, I know. This is worth it, though. This is something that will get youa healthy bonus, the kind that could pay for little Timmy's debts. Besides, you turn this down and I go elsewhere with the info. I'm sure you won't be happy to find out that this info got sold to the tech-freaks down the way once it gets out. And it will get out.

A long silence, eye contact, hard. Easy for Eli, he knew this ploy would work. He knew how Jonathan ticked, how to poke and prod at the front just enough to make impacts.

Fine,” came the slow response, “twelve.

Fifteen, ” Eli responded again, too quick. “Twelve to pick up the package, one to deliver it, two to make sure it doesn't get stolen.

Another silence, a deep sigh.

If this turns out to be bullshit, Eli, I'll make certain you don't get back down here.

A vain threat, Eli knew the man would have no chance in a fight.

Completely understandable.

Jonathan nodded and began to usher Eli into the darkened alcove. “So, is this a semblance?

Better.

The hazel eyed man's smile was all teeth.



Wanted: Capable individuals willing to work on the wrong side of the law. Objective is is the kidnapping of a Beacon student. Payment will be one mil each. Applicants are to head to the Beggar's Cask bar in Mistral, order a water, and sit at table 24 for five minutes before leaving. If your services are needed, you will be contacted.

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WiP Characters / Durian Ghede
« on: November 09, 2018, 03:42:35 PM »
I'm putting this here for now and not in proper CC because fuck you if you think I'm putting this up there while spoilers are still fucked

#772DAD

CHARACTER

Name: Durian Ghede

Age: 22

Species and Gender: Male Ram Faunus

Symbol:


Occupation: Freelance Hospital Worker/Hunter Drop-Out

Appearance: Standing at 5’9” and weighing 143 lbs., Durian is a somewhat lanky individual. His dark, raven-colored hair is done up in the early stages of twist outs, only reaching a few inches off his head and staying well out of the way of his light, bluish-violet eyes. His faunus origin is up front and in your face with a pair of ivory ram horns that jut up from the back of his skull and curl around, nearly brushing the bottoms of his ears. Having living in Vacuo he's never made any attempt to hide his origin, though when visiting other kingdoms or villages he tends to wear a hood.

His outfit is exceedingly monochromatic and all just a little too baggy for his slight frame. He wears a pair of black boots, black pants, a black short-sleeved undershirt and a large, white, zip-up hoodie with three black lines circling the right arm and black drawstrings. He tends to only wear the hoodie when he's out of Vacuo but will even wear it there if he's had a particularly bad day.

While he bears no special markings or blemishes, the white of the hoodie has a faint, light brown tint from its short time being worn in Vacuo.

History:
[spoilers=Pre-Shade]Born in the harsh wastes of the Vacuan desert, Durian was brought into the world needing to constantly adapt and overcome his surroundings. Even within the relative comfort of his shanty town, danger was always around the corner. Would the oasis they surrounded run dry? Would a sandstorm wipe away the hurriedly built structures? Grimm? Bandits? His parents did little to dissuade his fears with his father dying before he was born and his mother having gone missing in the desert when he was only a toddler, forcing him to be raised by his grandmother. She did her best to raise a child she never asked to be handed, teaching Durian and letting him learn to fight with some of the village’s “hunters”.

They were by no means true hunters, not someone who could hunt the likes of Grimm, they were simply people who knew how to fight and defend themselves and their village. From time to time that included Grimm, yes, but they were far from specialized in the field. They taught Durian how to survive, despite his natural clumsiness in a fight. It was apparent from a young age that, while not skilled in combat, he was skilled in tactics. He stayed there, learning from the hunters when he wasn’t out with the rest of his village gathering supplies, learning lessons with the other children, or simply surviving.

Of course, in a world like this, a village in the desert being swept away by the sand is all too common. The attack came quickly and was over in a flash. The bandits came bearing superior weapons and abilities, killed everyone who fought back, and stole away with those who didn’t. Durian’s grandmother ordered him to hide under his bed and the bandits, not caring or not noticing him, went on sacking the village for anything worth their time- food, water, valuables, ammunition. Anything that could be taken and sold or used was. Durian was 16 at the time and unlike many would be hunters would have found their lives cut short at the blade of a bandit, he did what he was ordered.

He hid under his bed, cowering with his hands covering his mouth and his back to the wall as he could hear hear his friends and family being killed, his grandmother being struck down from trying to defend the home she’d raised her daughter in, the home she’d raised her grandson in. He could feel something inside of him wrench around with each short yell that cut through the utter quiet of a desert night and he continued to hide. He hid as they stormed into his house and stole away with his things, he hid as he could hear them laughing around a small fire outside, he hid as the moon fell and the sun rose and he hid until he could bear the hunger and thirst no more.

Cautious and afraid, Durian slid his way out from under the bed, only to be met with a session of dry heaving as he saw his deceased grandmother, the person who’d raised him in his parent’s absence. He avoided looking at her and made his way outside into the harsh sun, trying his best to tiptoe around the corpses that littered his home. He made his way to the small oasis and collapsed into the water, staying there for a moment too long and contemplating never leaving before bursting out and inhaling a deep, shuttered breath. He drank the water and at the scarce fruit too ripe for the bandits to bother taking as he both tried to think about his situation in order to come up with a plan and avoid thinking what was just behind him entirely.

Eventually, the small amount of resolve within him won over and he made his way back to the village, crudely covering the dead in sand and praying for the gods to be good to them in the next life like his grandmother taught him.

He stayed there in the village for several days, drinking the water of the oasis and eating the bitter ripe fruit. What choice did he have? He couldn’t just brave the desert, that was just as useful as staying under the water. The Vacuan desert was enormous, teeming with Grimm, bandits, and other hostile wildlife. There wasn’t any food, barely any water, no markers to show he was going the right direction. As far as he knew, he would just stay until the food ran out and then… well, he didn't want to think about what would come after. The choice to stay or go was forced on him on the third day.

On the horizon, as he was gathering the last of the fruit, he saw an enormous, shifting cloud of pitch black. It was something he’d heard about only in whispers and warning around the tribe, The Shiru. A monsterous grimm that stopped at nothing to destroy settlements, bringing with it a horde of other grimm to kill any who try to escape. There was a one, and only one, plan if that thing ever made its way toward the village. Everyone packs up and begins moving in the exact opposite direction, so that’s what Durian did. He collected the handful of fruit that was left, he found a small container for water, and he began to book it across the desert.

In some ways, The Shiru saved him. Had he left a day earlier or later, even an hour, he wouldn’t have had the good fortune to run into a small caravan of traders making their way back to Vacuo from another village. Had he not caught them, he wouldn’t have been able to do the only thing he knew he could do when he arrived in Vacuo, take Shade’s entrance exam. He’d never met a hunter in his life, never knew their lifestyle, but he’d heard tales and that was enough. They were strong, they were superhuman in their own right, they could be hit by a train and get back up again. They would be strong enough to fight back against the bandits. The Grimm were a problem, of course, but they were far from the primary problem in Durian’s mind.

By all rights, Durian’s tactical mind was the sole savior when he took the exam. His combat skills were mediocre at best and even though his grandmother gave him lessons with the other village kids, it was far from a formal education. The examiner told him that if not for his ability to work through and organize some of the tougher questions he would have had no chance of getting in.[/spoiler]

Shade: ShowHide
He did get in though, and thanks to his mind, he was made team leader of Team DFDL along with his partner Flora and his two teammates Dalia and Loquat. The team quickly bonded over their initiation with each of them being very open to Durian’s plans and suggestions but he was especially taken by Flora. There was something about her pearlescent skin, her blonde hair, her seafoam-green eyes, her voice, her her that made him feel something he hadn’t before. It wasn’t something he understood or knew, in the village there wasn’t anything like dating, there weren’t couples, there were only those who were life partners and those who weren’t. He didn’t know how to talk about that, especially not to her! So he didn’t.

Durian kept quiet about his feelings for his partner and admired from just outside of the frame, watching as she grew and won her fights and survived the school. He was… content like that. He wanted more but he was happy as he was just getting to watch someone who would become his best friend succeed over and over again.

Death is more than common in the world of hunters and huntresses and that seemed especially true for Durian. It was their first solo mission, no hunter shadowing them and no hunter to shadow. The task was simple, go and defend a village for a night, there wasn’t even a promised threat there had only been sightings of a grimm horde in the distance. Flora and Loquat were both close range fighters while Dalia was a long range fighter so the plan was simple. Durian, Flora, and Loquat would patrol the perimeter while Dalia took up position on top of one of the buildings to provide a bird’s eye view, Durian would travel with Loquat  on one end while Flora would Trac one on the other as she was a far more accomplished fighter than either of them.

There wasn’t any cry of help or assistance that brought Durian and Loquat running to the opposite side of the village, only a single shot that rang out in the quiet desert night. As Durian ran, he looked up and saw Dalia’s rifle trained toward where Flora was supposed to be patrolling and as he rounded the corner with his breath in his throat, he saw her. Alive. At her feet was the body of a larger man with a single bullet hole in his skull. Durian let out the sigh he’d been holding but before he could even thank the gods another shot rang out, this time from the darkness of the night and eliciting a scream of pain from Dalia. As all three of the students whipped their heads up and around toward their teammate, there was another sound. A shorter one.

A gasp of breath cut short as if hitting a wall followed by a wet cough and groan. Durian whipped his head around and saw a spear jutting out of Flora’s stomach, piercing her aura. The next few moments were a blur and even if durian wanted to recall the events, he would be hard pressed to do so. There was fighting, screams, gunshots, yells for help. In the end, they somehow fought off the bandits. They left several dead or dying at their feet but by the time they were safe…

Durian looked down at the lifeless body of his teammate, his partner, the person he loved and something inside of him snapped. He didn't cry out, he didn't sob, he only collapsed down to the ground and began to lose his breath. He tried to take in air but nothing came, he gripped his chest as he felt an anchor of weight appear in his chest and he dug his hands into the sand. In the midst of his frantic breathing, he could feel it, feel them. Inside of him. He clenched his palms as a forced racked through his body and as he looked up to the sound of Loquat gasping, he saw her. He could see through her to the dark sand dunes beyond and she looked down at him, expressionless, with bright blue eyes that stood out against the light tan of the rest of her visage but he could tell it was her.

His grandmother stood there, not moving, not speaking, only looking at him with those unblinking eyes. Her form whisped and wavered in the desert wind but didn't disappear. He was a speechless as he stood up and collapsed into her, wrapping his arms around her and finally starting to let out his tears. She only stood there, unmoving. In that moment, something else clicked inside Durian and he could see them, each and every one of them.

 Dozens of them, his fellow villagers, the bandits that laid dead at his feet, Flora. He could see part of them all inside of himself. In a moment of panic and confusion he laid down his hands onto Flora-- maybe if he could return it to her, maybe if he could could bring her back then this would all--

The form of his grandmother faded away and began to grow into place around Flora's body. The shimmering form of his grandmother, now fully in her own color, looked up to him and smiled. She wrapped her arms around him and let him scream into her, letting everything that had built since her final night out into the night air.

Eventually, morning came and the sandcrawler came to pick up the team. Durian was silent the entire way back even in the face of attempted comfort from Dalia and Loquat. He was silent as it dropped them off at Shade and he was silent as they all went to bed. In the morning, he told then he was staying in from classes today and to go without him. Once they were gone, he packed his things, collected his money, and he booked the first airship ticket to Vale.


Post-Shade: ShowHide
Durian never went back to Vacuo, never tried to get into contact with his former teammates and never answered their messages on his scroll. He found a cheap hotel in Vale and he stayed there for a week, trying to work through everything that was going on inside him, his semblance, what he could do. It was obvious now that the hunter's life was not what he wanted to needed. He'd heard stories from other students when he'd entered about death and loss but he never thought… What he needed now was to figure out what was for him. He thought about how crushed he'd felt to lose flora without even getting to say goodbye, how happy he'd been to see and talk with his grandmother again, how he could still feel dozens of… souls inside of him. Fragments. How he couldn't feel his grandmother anymore.

He began testing in his hotel room with the expendable ones, the scum, the bandits. He created shade after shade after shade and tested what he could do with them but no matter what, he couldn't replicate what he'd done with his Grandmother. They all stayed that light tannish color with glowing eyes. There was only one thing he could do, one idea that might be able to help him get set back on the right track.

Vale was home to Beacon Academy, the largest and most accomplished Huntsman academy in the world, surely someone there would be able to help him make sense of it all. So he set out for the academy, quickly learning that Vale had a much different view on faunus than Vacuo. He heard whispers of “freak”, “monster”, “devil” and as much as he wanted to, could he even argue? If he really had souls of the dead inside of him wasn't he keeping them from moving on? Wasn't he a monster? Someone stuck their leg out as he was walking with a crowd of people and he fell down into the hard concrete, scraping his hands as he tried to catch himself.

When he finally arrived at Beacon, he had a new, large hoodie on with the hood fully covering his head and obscuring his horns. He found a professor and explained his situation but because he wasn't a student they couldn't help him in an official capacity. They told him to try to go to the hospital, that his semblance sounded like he might be able to temporarily revive the dead, that it might be useful for grieving families.

Durian did as he was told just like when he was a kid and as he worked with the hospitals, he slowly began to understand what his semblance was. Over the next three years, he built a rapport with the hospitals around Vale and even made trips out to the smaller to assist there. He began to expend the shades at his disposal one by one until all that was left was Flora. Sweet, beautiful Flora. He'd never tried to delve into her soul, he was too afraid of what the answer might be and now, in a moment where he could lt himself be free of the burden and guilt, he was too afraid of what letting go would mean. He kept her, selfishly. Her fragment is still there today, he's never tried to use her once, he couldn't dream of it. The longer he held her, the more the guilt grew and the more the guilt grew the harder it was to bring himself to let her go. The harder it was to let her go, the longer he held her.

Now Durian lives in a small studio apartment in the residential district of Vale. He keeps to himself, trying to hide his faunus features and go unnoticed most of the time he's not working at the hospital. He doesn't prefer the stagnation but it's the only thing he can think to do.


Personality: Before unlocking his semblance, Durian was a kind and thoughtful kid, if a bit socially lacking. After unlocking his semblance he very much drew into himself. It is not uncommon for him to have intrusive thoughts of him being around powerful people as they die and using them to gain more power, ideas that that if he played his cards right he could be unstoppable. He hates this, hates everything about this, and because of it he is of two minds about himself and his semblance.

On one hand, he feels immensely happy that he's able to give people one last talk with people they love, to let them get everything out that they can. It's almost cathartic for him to let others get their final words when he couldn't have the same with his mother and father and to let them live on without as many regrets.

On the other hand, he feels guilty when he helps people like this and he hates that he feels guilty and hates that he hates it. It's a vicious cycle of resenting others for getting the closure he never got and being angry with himself because he can't just not help them.

It's a cocktail of emotions that lay just below the surface, from the outside he tries his best to stay stone faced as people break down into tears or yell and scream or give their final goodbyes to his shades.

At the same time, separate from the actual act of helping, he hates that his semblance is what it is. It can help others, of course, but it's clearly not meant to. With every shade that he has, he understands how they fight and how well they fight, what their semblance was exactly and how to use it. Every time he “captures” someone, he knows exactly how useful they would be in a fight. He knows he could be great and powerful if he was still a hunter and that's why he left. It would be far too easy in a job like that, surrounded by death, to bend toward the corrupted side. He hates the idea of what he's capable of and yet almost every day he has intrusive thoughts telling him to go through with it.

All that said, Durian is not one to ignore, put away, or deflect his problems or shortcomings, perceived or otherwise. His problem is born from indecisiveness. While he is able to look at his problems and work through them in his head and can see both sides of the problem, he very rarely can come to a conclusion. This permeates through almost his entire life, save for combat planning where he feels almost at home.

Durian is far from a social person. While he'll be willing and able to make conversation if he's prompted or interested, he generally won't seek out conversation. He much prefers to keep to himself and his own thoughts. Even though he may not like keeping to himself, he at least knows and understands his own thoughts.

This antisocial behavior extends to most of his life. He doesn't make friends easily and the friends he made at Shade came about purely through continuous and forced interaction through teams or classes, not that he didn't enjoy having friends. He has work acquaintances at the hospital, but he doesn't interact with them outside of work. In fact, most of his time outside of work is spent in his small apartment or out buying groceries.

The rare times that he's actually convinced to go out with his coworkers for a night, it usually takes a good couple of drinks before he can loosen up enough to actually enjoy their company and talk freely. Unsurprisingly, much of the talk turns back toward him having his aura unlocked and having a semblance but by that point he's usually loosened up enough to feel comfortable shutting it down. When he can, he likes to turn it back onto them and hear how they actually did that day and hear how they helped people. After all, despite working in a hospital, he's not actually a registered nurse or doctor.

Despite getting two years into becoming a Hunter himself, Durian has come to see the academies in another light. Not for what they do or what they stand for but because of how young hunters are when they get sent into fight Grimm. He has no problem or issue with the actual idea of hunters, he understands the necessity, but he fervently disagrees with what he views as child soldiers, especially in Atlas’ case.

His move from Vacuo to Vale brought with it many noticeable changes, least of which isn't racism and the white fang. He hates the white fang, always has since he learned about them in Vacuo. He hates that they've resorted to violence in response to hate. After moving to Vale, though, he can understand how they may have come to that answer. He still doesn't agree with or approve of the white fang but now that he's had to deal with daily life in Vale, one of the more tolerant kingdoms, he can at least understand them.

Aura and Semblance: Durian's aura is a swirling tan-brown, though when he has other auras within him from his semblance it takes has flecks and small swirls of other colors. While his aura was unlocked at Signal, his semblance was partially unlocked before that due to its semi-passive nature. While the ability to absorb unlocked during his grandmother's death, the ability to project unlocked at his teammate’s death.

Psychopomp
[Semi-Passive]
 
Durian is able to create solid shades, or aura constructs, of those that pass away in his presence. He passively absorbs and stores a small amount of the deceased's aura as they pass and use it with some of his own aura, to create shades. These shades appear as vaguely translucent versions of what the target looked like as they died, including clothing and injuries though they don't have their own original colored clothing or skin tone, all color is replaced by varying shades of Durian's light brown aura color.
 
These shades have two “forms” and which form is sent out depends on how much Durian focuses.
 
The standard shade will appear as above but will only be able to be given rough mental commands such as “attack” or “defend”. The actual words aren't as important as the idea behind them. Durian can expend up to 10 shades at once while still being able to move around and act normally while these shades are being used, any more and he has to stand still. However, each Shade has one lifetime use unless not used for a month. With each month it goes without being used, it gains an additional use. This means if Durian has a shade and doesn't use it for 3 months and then uses it, he has 2 uses left. If a shade goes unused, he could theoretically store one forever.
 
These shades can exist up to an hour before being forcefully canceled, but they get 10% weaker every 6 minutes.
 
The second form requires Durian to stay still, only being able to move his head to look around or talk. These shades are opaque and appear just like they did in life, any injuries that lead to their death healed. They can receive much more complex commands but even beyond that, they appear to have the same personality, voice, and mannerisms as the original deceased did in life as well as a similar aura pool, though durian can alter the personality and force them to say what he wants them to if he wants.
 
To create the second form of the shades, in addition to standing still, Durian needs to use a chunk of flesh, approximately the mass of a baby pig, that has been sufficiently soaked in a living being's aura. In other words, Durian needs live flesh or very recently removed flesh of a human, faunus, or animal. Durian can then use this flesh as a "base" to for the shade so that it can form around it using the deceased's, Durian's, and the remnants of the flesh's aura to bind the process.
 
Once used in this form, despite how many months have passed, the user will no longer be able to use the shade. However, the shade will have a comparable aura defense as they did in life. These shades will never fade out when used, they only go away when Durian manually cancels them.
 
While all shades appear with the weapons they most commonly used in life, if any, only the second form shades can use a watered down version of their semblances.
 
As a secondary effect of the semblance, Durian has an intuitive understanding of the combat abilities and semblances of those he absorbs and he can turn his attention inward to "observe" the pieces of aura that he's absorbed and can try to understand what kind of person they were. 

Current Shades: ShowHide
[Spoiler=Flora]Name: Flora Quinn

Age: 19 at the time of death, 22 now

Species and Gender: Human Female

Appearance: Flora had bright blonde hair that fades into pink highlights at the tips and seafoam-green eyes. She was slightly plump with a round face but that never hampered her combat prowess. At her time of death, she was wearing a fairly simple outfit with a red, short sleeved crop top, a pair of dark navy jeans, combat boots, and lightly colored poncho over it all with crossing floral designs.

Background: Flora was Durian's teammate who had died during their first solo mission.

Personality: Flora was a mostly upbeat person, always trying to spur on her teammates for laughs. Her happy face was a mask she wore to cover up some repressed events from her childhood in Vale but Durian hasn't looked into the fragment enough to know what happened and why.

Aura and Semblance: Flora had a strong and red aura and it wasn't known where she unlocked it or her semblance.

Her semblance is the ability to create an illusory clone of herself and control it. She can either control it directly or set it to tasks, either vague or specific, and doesn't need to be distracted from what she's doing. The clone makes no sound and is not physical in any way. If Flora is attacked, the moment before the hit connects with her aura she and the clone reactively swap places, when this happens the clone takes the hit and disappears. If the clone is attacked, Flora will reactively teleport to its space and the clone with explode in a soft force, shunting anything (such as a sword) that would be in Flora's space out of the way before she teleport in.

Combat Behavior:  Flora was a strong frontline fighter and relies heavily on the tried and true “hit it hard until it stops moving” method. She was efficient as using her semblance to disorientate her opponent. She has no real answer to a ranged opponent and would often leave that fight for her teammates.

WEAPON

Name: Celice

Primary Form: Celice is a large Warhammer in its primary form. 4'6” long on total and consisting of a wooden grip and shaft with swirling silver workings throughout it, ending in the silver head. The hammer side is a fairly standard hammer with the exception of a gun barrel being worked into it while the spiked side is much thick and curved downward.

When the hammer side connects with something with enough force, it will force out a shotgun blast from the head into the target. The ammo can be loaded from the shaft of the warhammer.

Secondary Form: With the flick of a switch, Celice's spiked end extends out and down into a 2’ long scythe blade.

Dust Functions: The warhammer can be loaded with different forms of dust for additional effects such as an ice or fire blast.

Shade Uses Available: 29 First Level/ 1 Second Level
[/spoiler]

At any given time during Durian's work day, he may have a number of other shades stocked up from patients who have passed in the hospital. These shades are generally not notable and are only basic mundane people.


Inside Baseball: ShowHide
 While not wrong, Durian doesn’t understand the full grasp of his semblance, either by willful ignorance by viewing it as keeping souls from entering an afterlife or just by him truly not understanding the more varied use for the semblance.The semblance, at its core, is the ability to absorb, store, and redirect aura of something that is dying and beyond all possible saving. If, theoretically, someone died, had part of their aura absorbed, then was somehow brought back to life with some revival semblance or something, they would come back missing a chunk of their aura.

Of course, aura cannot survive in a vacuum, it’s the manifestation of a soul and without the soul, there is no manifestation. That said, Durian’s semblance take a chunk of the soul in order to sustain the aura within him. Durian cannot communicate with any soul fragment that’s stored in him but he can “read” it, as stated above. However, these are foreign souls residing in a foreign body. It won’t be immediate, Durian would never notice, and even those outside observers who do wouldn’t think anything supernatural of it but over time these souls tend to have a bleeding effect with Durian’s.

For the easiest example, if he were to go on a murder rampage and take over the world by killing good guys and storing them within himself for future use, he would start to take on traits of the good guys. He’d start to regret what he’d done and see the error of his ways. Similarly, if he went on a crusade against villainy and scum, he would slowly become more and more brutal, more cutthroat, more villainous as he continued. He’d start to think maybe being the good guy isn’t for him. Again, these are extremely slow changes similar to how someone would naturally progress their personality through life and would be indistinguishable from the outside from a normal personality change and the examples are extremely broad strokes.

From a practical standpoint, there is no limit to how many souls or aura fragments Durian can store within him, though the more he has, the more they influence him. If his soul is 100% of something and each fragment is only 1% then by ten people he’ll already have a tenth of himself being influenced by the other souls. Now, of course, the souls will never be in total agreement, they won’t be one mass that has a directive, they were all their own person in life after all. The changes would be small, sometimes contradictory, but always with a cause. Of course, this isn’t a one way street. The longer a fragment is within him, the less it’s like itself and the more it’s like Durian or the cavalcade of other fragments in him to the point where when it’s finally summoned out it might not act anything like the original person if it’s kept long enough.

With the actual application of the semblance, he currently uses aura-soaked flesh as what is essentially a temporary phylactery to hold the fragment of soul in order to properly manifest the aura. This is a fine application and actually more useful than the “intended” use in some ways. Since it requires aura soaked flesh to be the basis of the shade, there is nothing stopping Durian from using his own or someone else’s living body and essentially overlaying a shade on top of him, or only a part of one such as an arm, in order to use extra protection while still having access to the watered down semblance.

In order for him to do that, though, he needs significantly more practice with his semblance. Overlaying a patchwork of shades in only parts over his body means being able to maintain multiple second-level shades and still be able to move. Even now if he tried it, he’d have to overlay a single shade and, since he can’t move, essentially puppeteer his own body by moving the shade.

The actual means by which Durian snatches onto a departing soul is by way of invisible, intangible tendrils. For every person in Durian's 10 meter range, there is a single tendril that connects him to them. The tendril is constantly feeding Durian with information on their vitals so that his semblance knows when exactly to snatch part of the soul but durian isn't consciously aware of any of the information. At most, he might have a gut feeling that someone is closer to death than someone else. They cannot be seen by any means outside of a specialized semblance and they cannot be cut or interacted with. They can pass through solid objects and even aura barriers.


Combat Behavior:  Durian is by no means a front line fighter. In a one on one confrontation against anyone stronger than a single Beowolf he will undoubtedly lose. He in terms of defense, he's no tank. Below average at best and a runt at worst, he tries his best not to get hit by dodging out of the way but even that, after years of inaction, has been made largely ineffective.

His strength comes from his ability to plan and use others in combat. If he has a group of other people he's in charge of, he has a knack of being able to understand what they can do and how they work. Similarly, this extends to opponents. He can quickly determine, with some room for error, how the opponent fights, what their semblance might be, how they might be beaten back.


While entirely unable to fight well on his own, he can send others in how he wants and, if it goes according to plan, his team will often leave successful.

This is, of course, an incredibly useful skill to have in tandem with his semblance. Having complete control over a legion of shades that he can expend while still avoiding the fight would be a strategist’s wet dream if he actually wanted to use it.

He doesn't, though. He doesn't have anyone to tell what to do in a fight either. In these hypothetical scenarios, he could be formidable to mankind and Grimm but as he is now, he only wants to avoid that.

- Basically beat by anyone in a fair 1 on 1 fight
- Weak aura shielding
- Slow to dodge
- Doesn't want or like to fight
- Dork


+ Excellent mind for strategy and using other’s strength to their fullest

WEAPON

Name: Scalpel

Primary Form: Scalpel is a foot long Dagger. It's 12 inches long, tip to tip, and the blade is 7 inches long. The weapon itself is very minimalistic for a hunter’s weapon, much of the handle is a silvery metal with polished wooden grips on either side and a small trigger near where his forefinger would be. The blade is similarly a very standard metallic blade, though there is a very fine gap where the edge of the blade would be. With the trigger held down, the actual edge emerges from the slot, it can be coated with any kind of dust, though most often it is loaded with a combination of electric and a very fine amount of ice dust to cause a very short taser effect.

History: While originally having no name when he built it in Oasis, it was named Scalpel after the end of his first year at Shade. Since his leaving the school, it has been left mostly unused but always hanging from his hip in its sheath.

8
Beacon Academy / How to Train your Idiot [Closed]
« on: September 25, 2018, 12:41:16 PM »
The smell of sweat, dirt and dust was the best way Titania could describe Beacons training and sparring grounds. They were a set of six fields, each a simple expanse of dry dirt, with simple markings on the ground indicating starting positions and the halfway point. She was sure the field would be nothing but a litter of craters in the ground by now if not for the help of Kirkka. She wasn't a fan of the fields herself, much preferring the clean, sleek, indoor arena where she taught her combat classes, but she saw the draw of them. They made it all feel more real.

The feeling of the shifting dirt beneath boots and the taste of kicked up dust in the air brought all of a hunter's senses to the foreground, grounding them in reality and forcing them to pay attention. In truth, she did miss the days when she went out on missions, the days when she could experience that adrenaline rush freely, but she was older now, too old to be going out on hunting missions. Her place was as a guide for the next generation.

She shifted her head slightly to look at Malina, who stood several feet away and who had coiled their tail into something of chair, using it and the simple wooden staff she was holding to lean against. A small smile tugged at Titania's lips as she thought back to her own trainings with the girl and how content she was with how she was turning out.

Not everyone felt the same, of course. After her recent stunt trying to teach children about aura mastery, the infirmary had two cases of severe migraines and one case of a student nearly going comatose. The council, of course, tried to have her removed. Some of the other teachers agreed. If not for Titania's close relationship with Alban, she was sure Malina would have been fired and possibly charged but she thankfully avoided that.

Now she needed to take time off of her own schedule to help show that Malina was capable of properly handling and teaching students, even if she wasn't fond of them. It was frustrating, yes, but Titania had been known to pull several all nighters to complete a project back in her Beacon days, this wasn't so different.

To that end, they were here. All Malina knew was that it was going to be a training exercise. All she was waiting for was her opponent to arrive.

9
RPG Discussion / Anniversary Prompt
« on: August 31, 2018, 11:00:05 PM »
If you haven't read the anniversary post yet, please do so here http://rwbyfanon.com/index.php?topic=1544.0

There's some group specific info so I'll go over that first.

GUESTS

Those who joined the site, if there are any, this applies to you. RoosterTeeth properties only, no sexual content or graphic violence. You don't need to worry about writing canon or what-if on your submissions, that's users only but you do need to specify opt-in or opt-out.

MEMBERS

People who actually have characters, this applies to you. I don't have to tell you no sexual content or graphic violence, you should know. If your submission is canon, proceed as usual, if it is what-if, this seems like a good time to remind you that the rules generally don't apply in that kind of response. Canon characters are all fine for what-ifs as well as whatever else you want as long as it's RT property only and doesn't violate what I've already said. I'm addition, this is a reminder that no matter what, canon or what-if, you are required to have permission of the creator before using another's character in your story at any capacity.

GENERAL

The prompt is a general prompt, just write about what comes to mind.

No word count minimum or maximum.

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while not being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

Voting for the winner will begin shortly after the beginning of October as a one week grace period will be allowed for anyone close to finishing who hasn't by the end of month.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself and giving tribute to Monty with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

Just because you have a month to write doesn't mean you should spend the entire time writing new content. A short, well crafted story can mean much more than a long, poorly crafted one. Once you have what you like, spend the rest of the time editing and shining it up.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing responses can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

In addition, this thread will be locked until the last week of September in order to encourage putting more time into refining the submission.

You must note either "Opt-in" or "Opt-out". If you opt-in, your submission will be added to the compiled stories to send to RT. if you wish, you may write it under your own name or user name or reddit name so that roosterteeth knows who wrote it.

Also also, all who opt-in have the option to send me a scan or whatever of your signature to add to a page of signatures at the end of the binder.

The prompt is

Keep moving forward.

I'm sure many will want to do a “talking to a gravestone” scene but we as the staff caution against this, though we don't ban it as a response. It is a very easy and apt scene to deal with the prompt, and that's not a bad thing. That said, it's what Roosterteeth themselves did as tribute on the first episode of V3, they will very likely not enjoy reading the same scene 80 times especially when they did it themselves. We suggest thinking of new, different ideas to address the prompt. A new, fresh perspective is much more likely to be interesting and be eye catching, after all.


This is what the prompt should look like

Title
Username/Name
Opt-in/Opt-out
Canon/What-if (members only)

[Prompt]



9/20/18 Submission due date has been pushed back indefinitely until the board is sufficiently secure for the additional guest traffic. New date will be announced when things are ready.

10
RPG Announcements / Happy 5th Anniversary, RWBY RPG!
« on: August 31, 2018, 11:00:02 PM »
Site broke so this was postponed. Yay.

Happy Anniversary, RWBY RPG! It's that time of year again already, and you might be wondering why I'm posting today instead of on our actual anniversary, huh? I'll get to that, I promise, I have some info to run through first but it's definitely for sure not because I'm embarrassed to have our anniversary on 9/11.

As we finish out our fifth year on the site, enter our sixth year, and move toward the sixth season of RWBY, there's some stuff that I've personally been thinking about in regards to not just the site but the show and fandom as a whole. Over three years ago, we lost the dedicated and inspiring man who was behind the entire existence of all three of those things, without whom we wouldn't have ever been here. It has been said many times and I'm sure I don't need to say it, but Monty was truly someone to look up to, his work ethic was bar none, he was able to do what he truly loved, and he inspired people to improve their creative skills. If you've been on this site since the beginning, if you've even been here for just a year, or if you've been anywhere in the Fandom where you're creating works of art whether it be drawn, written, or otherwise you can't deny that Monty changed your life. Perhaps you were already a published author, perhaps you never wrote a story or character in your life, perhaps you had your art win contests, perhaps you could only draw stick figures. No matter the starting point, I firmly believe that everyone is better off for having Monty in the world as he helped countless people strive to improve.

I genuinely believe that there isn't a single person, at the very least on this site, whose writing or art skills haven't improved from a year ago, even if only by a little bit. Had Monty not brought us together, I know at the very least I would still be writing like I was 6 years ago when I first joined the site.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in or out of the community that can't look up to Monty in at least one aspect, his works and ethic were undeniable.

When we lost him, many were skeptical about Miles and Kerry taking over and whether you like or dislike how they've handled the show, it is impossible to deny that if they hadn't continued the work of their friend 3 years ago, we wouldn't be here today. The community would have burnt out and faded away. Because they carried on for Monty, because they put in the effort to not let his project die, we're still here, we're still writing and drawing and making works of art, we're still improving. Myself and the other members of the staff believe that this is an excellent time to thank the cast and crew of RWBY and pay tribute to Monyreak “Monty” Oum.

With that said, you get half the anniversary present/tribute now and half on the 11th. Once the 11th rolls around we'll be getting a shiny new revamped logo for the site, showcasing some of the more we'll known characters of our own making on the RPG side and a revamped version of the original logo on the main side. you may have noticed a change already. Our old site logo has been revamped and replaced. While some of you have seen me work on the logo in the discord, for those who haven't seen it, the characters are starting from the top and going clockwise: Leonius Decimi Regulus, Juno Vert, Prism Skylark, Zabar Aga, Calen Shrike, Chiu Fei Hung, Nathan Eau, Coconut Cream, Alban Inverno, Malina Nahualli, Kirkka Scarlet, and Janus Rogo). On the RPG logo the center has also been revamped with “RWBY RPG” appearing on Ruby's symbol while on the main side logo, the center has been replaced with a shaded white ball that simply has “RWBY” and Adam’s symbol has been replaced by Ruby's.

Much more important than a change in our logo, though, is the main event and reason I'm announcing this at the start of the month and not on our anniversary. The weekly writing prompt is going to be delayed this month, as the entire month is going to be dedicated to a single prompt, more info can be found at the link to the writing prompt link at the end of this post.

As I said before, this anniversary isn't just about our site, it's about RWBY, the community it's nurtured, and the cast and crew that makes it happen. It's about paying tribute to Monty and thanking Miles, Kerry, and the rest of the staff.

For this purpose, an invite has been spread to r/RWBY, r/RWBYOC, r/RWBYPrompts, r/RoosterTeeth, and the RWBY section of the RoosterTeeth Forums. You won't need an approved character to enter this time.

After Monty's passing, Matt Hullum wrote

“In lieu of flowers or gifts, we ask that you simply do something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can. If you know Monty like we do, then you know he would certainly be doing that if he were able to.”

I feel confident in saying that in the years since, we have all been doing creative work and that it's time we pay tribute and thank the staff for continuing Monty's work. We're allowing all who join to participate and at the end of the month, each and every prompt marked “Opt-in” will be compiled into a binder of stories put together by myself with a letter of thanks and a signature from each person who wrote in to be sent to RoosterTeeth. We had tried to get permission to compile the stories into a properly made and bound book by a print-on-demand service but despite multiple attempts at reaching out to roosterteeth’s fan project email we never got a response. While all those who opt-in will be featured, we will have a vote decide on the best response, which will be at the very front of the binder, second only to a foreword and thank you letter. How the voting will be done has not yet been decided on yet but we're open to fair suggestions.

“The goal isn't to live forever; it’s to make something that does.” - Monty Oum

It's been a fantastic five years of RWBY, here's to many more.

http://rwby-rpg.rwbyfanon.com/index.php?topic=1545.msg20083#msg20083

11
NPC Profiles / General Ame Dresden
« on: August 06, 2018, 01:46:11 PM »
CHARACTER

Name: Ame Dresden

Age: 64

Species and Gender: Human Female

Symbol: 


Occupation: General of the Atlas Military Forces

Appearance: While once a tall, striking woman, the years have been less than kind to Ame. Standing at 5’4” and coming in at 134lbs, she has short grey-white hair that is perpetually tied back in a bun to keep out of the way of her dull, steel-blue eyes. Deep wrinkles line her face, making her look slightly older than she is and she has a small scar along her left cheek.

While one would be forgiven for assuming she was blind, just going off the dull color of her eyes, this is far from the truth. As her age continued to set in and her vision began to go, she had both eyes replaced by cybernetics, restoring her vision to even better than when she was young. Additionally, she has a permanent neural link attached to the back of her head, constantly feeding her information to her cybernetic eyes about the ship she currently operates in or, if she’s by a computer or link in station, direct access to the CCTT network.

On the job, she wears the standard Atlesian general coat and pants, though she had hers trimmed in purple, overtop of a white dress shirt and purple tie as well as the standard general gloves.

History: Mother fought in Greyed war, father was a dust mine manager. Mother pushed Ame to join the Atlesian forces, which she happily did. Ame progressed through her schooling very quickly, showing signs of her being very tactically minded.

Rose quickly through the ranks after she graduated and became an officer of some renown when the Faunus Rights Revolution began. After General Lagoon’s vital loss at Fort Castle, Ame was promoted to be the youngest General in Atlesian history at the young age of 26. Despite her best efforts and objectively less idiotic approach than Lagoon’s, she was put in charge of a losing war and while she put up a good fight, there was no way to turn back the tide.

While before fighting in the war she had hated faunus, fighting them had instilled some respect for them. She had no love for their race, that much was certain, but she could respect them as useful weapons. After the war, most of Ame’s time was combating the Fang during the White War, eventually winning several crucial battles and pushing the Fang out of Atlas. She continued to command her personal airship, The Dauntless, in combat both against human and Faunus revolutionary forces and against Grimm.

She spends much of her time these days guarding the City of Atlas, a task she despises for how restrictive it is, or going out on short excursions with her specialists to eliminate large Grimm hordes.

Personality: Ame is a hard individual, difficult to read and even more difficult to argue with. Her years in the Atlesian military have turned her into a solid rock of, what she believes to be, virtue. Her choices and decisions, even in everyday life, are based solidly in predetermined tactics and planned actions, she makes no improvisational choices if she can avoid it. That said, when she does have to improvise, I'm battle or no, she's no slouch. Her years directing combat have made her quite effective at making quick decisions and choices.

Ame is one of the less harsh officers in the Atlesian military when it comes to faunus but she is by no means kind. As far as she's concerned, faunus are a tool to be used. A very useful tool, yes, with their increased senses and night vision as well as any other traits they inherit, but a sword will always be a sword no matter how sharp.

Aura and Semblance: Ame had her aura unlocked while progressing through Atlas, her semblance was unlocked during one of the final battles of the Faunus Rights Revolution. Her semblance, like all high profile Atlesian officers with one unlocked, is a highly guarded secret, requiring top secret clearance as well as bio-scan permission from Ame herself.

Problematic Potential: Ame’s semblance has no outward signs and is passively on at all times. As the problem she’s facing becomes more and more complex and difficult, she has an easier and easier time solving it. There hasn’t been signs of any upper limit though she has pounding headaches after many consecutive problems. She has a very difficult time solving simple problem as her semblance causes her problem solving skills downscale just like it upscales, however she’s found a workaround for the problem by forcing herself to find an extremely complex and convoluted solution.

Combat Behavior:  Ame doesn't do on the ground fighting and her side arm is, for all intents and purposes, tradition and posturing. If forced into an actual fight, she would no be able to beat anyone with proper combat training.

WEAPON

Name: Standard Issue General’s Sidearm

Primary Form: Ame’s sidearm is a bulky, oversized revolver who's body is more akin to a shotgun than a sidearm. While certainly useful and able to pack quite a punch, if Ame tried to fire it she would likely break her arms.

Dust Functions: The side arm can be loaded with dust enhanced ammunition such as fire, ice, or lightning rounds but given that Ame doesn't even fire the thing she has no need for these sort of rounds.

History: Gifted to Ame upon her promotion to General.

Airship: Dreadnaught Class Destroyer: The Dauntless

https://i.imgur.com/894mA8O.png

The Dauntless is essentially Ame’s permanent station given how much time she spends there. Weighing in at 480 meters long, 190 meters wide, 70 meters tall and capable of being manned with over 1600 people, The Dauntless is one of the tankiest airships Atlas has to offer with triple reinforced armor all around, in addition to septuple reinforced armor around several emergency thrusters scattered around the hull for quick maneuvers. Along the hull are a plethora of rotary guns and cannons along with two rotary laser batteries on under the bow, all along the inlaid sides of the ship are missile batteries and point defense laser batteries. While not nearly as many, there are still quite a few rotary cannons, guns, and a single laser battery located on the top of the ship in the off chance that they have to combat a Grimm or ship that can fly higher than them.

The hanger Bay is located between the two long sections at the front as to protect it from oncoming fire or Grimm and to either side of the hangar bay door are the strongest part of the Dauntless’ arsenal, dual kinetic energy cannons. These dust powered cannons are extremely powerful and can, and have, punched clean through a mountain. Unfortunately, firing these cannons requires the hanger be closed, all non-essential energy be directed to the cannons, and the thing they're firing at be straight ahead.

The Dauntless is capable of housing a battalion of standard Atlesian fights within its hanger as well as several troop transport ships.

Just like the hanger, the bridge is protected and concealed within the shop itself as it is able to take advantage of the advanced projection technology that Atlas can afford. The entire room is, essentially, a holodeck projecting the outside of the shop through hidden and protected cameras, wired directly in system with no outside connectivity. The room is set up with all the standard equipment a normal airship would be equipped with with the exception of a significantly more comfortable seat for Ame.

The ship is equipped with several dumb AI are put in charge of tracking several internal system readings along with a human in order for each to be able to double check one another.

12
RPG Discussion / Weekly Prompt Winners
« on: July 28, 2018, 02:36:50 PM »
This thread will be reserved for the winners of each week's prompt.

13
Beacon Academy / Introduction to Advanced Aura [Closed]
« on: July 27, 2018, 01:23:34 PM »
Malina sat behind the large oak desk that say at the base of the classroom, it's back to an old school chalkboard and facing row after row of increasingly raised seats that were slowly being filled by the students coming in for the class. A few of them gave her a side long glance as their found their seats and for once it wasn't because she had a weird metal tail attached to her. No, she'd left Manticore in her dorm, coiled beneath a bed that needed desperate making, they were probably expecting to see Sophos only to be caught off guard when someone far younger and far less Sophos sat in his chair.

It was the first time she'd really been behind the desk as a teacher's assistant. Sure, she had assistanted with Tania but that had all been on the field combat, not in a classroom. It was weird, being on the other side and, now that she thought about it, it was weird all around. The students were arranged to always be above the teacher, which would make sense of there were a hundred or so students but there were only four rows and most of the seats weren't even filled most of the time. She didn't like it. It felt less like she was looking up at her students are far more like they were looking down on her. It was bullshit, they were only kids, if anything she should be the one on top, then looking up at her. That's where everything belonged.

Deep breath. Push the thoughts out of your mind. She couldn't be distracted by her own shit, especially given the topic of conversation today. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Malina nodded as the last students filtered into the room and checked the student list laid out in front of her. With an internal sigh, she stood up from her seat and faced the class.

"Hello class," she started in a solid tone, making her to scan her eyes along the rows of students, "I know most of you who've been in an aura studies class before were probably expecting Professor Sophos but unfortunately he is a bit predisposed with a research mission. I was supposed to start my semester as a TA under him today but clearly plans don't always go according to plan."She moved around go the front of the desk and leaned back against it, using her arms to support as she looked up at the students."I'll just put it out there right now, I don't have any of the curriculum info so I can't really start the actual class so today, after I run through attendance, is gonna more of a..." Malina rubbed on finger against her mouth in thought, "Experimental class? We'll get there."

With that out of the way, she reached back for the list of names that had sat on the desk when she'd arrived. Did she know some of the students from combat classes or from seeing them around school? Sure. Most? Ehhhhhh. Did she know their names? Ehhhhhhhhhh. She ran down the list, checking off people who were here and nodding to the very few she both recognized and knew their names, but paused after checking off on Amane Petrichor. She recognized the name from replays of the tournament but she didn't remember her looking that. Or what she looked like at all. Whatever.

Malina set down the paper down behind her and looked over the class. "Okay, easy starter, what's aura and what's a semblance?"

(No strict posting order, it will be mostly call and response. Malina asks a question one person responds, Malina responds to that, etc. If one person responded and your character still has something to say you can post if it's before Malina responded.

14
Malina's teaching an aura class, it'll be short. Basically an in-Universe platform for Worldbuilding an aura thing we did in WB reviews. I'll probably let two people in, it'll just be a quick call and response thread.

Is your character naturally gifted with aura? Do they strive to learn about it? If yes feel free to join. If no, I wouldn't bother.

15
AMA Section / What do your characters look like in their prime?
« on: July 13, 2018, 12:17:40 PM »
Just by the nature of the site, we're probably never going see most characters in their prime, so what do yours look like with their best weapon, best control of the aura and semblance, most experience etc.?

Malina - Malina's weapons won't change much in her prime, though Manticore will be more streamlined, sleak, and have an upgraded pin shooter at the tip to better penetrate materials. Assuming this is a Malina that came to terms with who she is and accepted that she actually is strong and not a coward, her outfit might have a bit more skin showing. It wouldn't be anything scanty, she's not the type of person, but she would be more comfortable in her own skin. Her real prime power comes from her aura and semblance. Unfortunately, she'll never become an aura master due to not dedicating enough time to it and starting without supervision but she will be able to temporarily double her aura and have extreme control of her aura, letting her mold its actual shape and move it around more freely than just sending it out in blasts. Her semblance will have a major power increase, eventually being able to push away tank rounds but her real strength comes from her ability to move her aura around. Because she can create concussive bursts from anywhere her aura is, she can remotely where ever she wants.

Aca - I don't have a great handle on what Aca will look like but I think as she improves her semblance, she'll seperate her saw slinging sword into a sword that has a secondary form to rapidly fire out smaller saw blades to let her swing them around with her semblance and cause them to hit her target as long as it's between her and her saw blades.

Zabar - Zabar will turn into something of a glass cannon, he's tough now, sure, but he won't be able to increase his aura too much over the years. What he will be able to do is learn how to focus aura into his fists and weapons in such a way to make any punch send shockwaves over the battlefield. He'll focus on hand to hand training and how to out maneuver any human enemy he faces. For Grimm, he'll make sure he can finish them in one shot our dance out of the way of their attacks.

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