Rook Spellmeyer
Posted Jul 1, 2018 18:31:04 GMT -7
Post by Rook Spellmeyer on Jul 1, 2018 18:31:04 GMT -7
Name: Rook Spellmeyer
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Group: Tyrants
Homeworld: The Information Age: 2018 CE
Occupation: Academy Coordinator
Face Claim: Touken Ranbu - Namazuo Toushirou
Appearance: 5ft 2in, 110lbs, Rook is built like a box; a very short, small box. Her shoulders are fairly narrow, but her hips equally so, and her waist never dips far enough in to be noticeable beneath the fairly simple clothes she wears. Every once in awhile she’ll dress up when she has to look important, but the rest of the year her wardrobe is entirely functional; hoodies for cold and maneuverability, t-shirts and tight fitting tanks when it gets warmer. Jewelry is void enough even her ears aren’t pierced, though small closed holes suggest they once were. The one point of impracticality is her black hair, long enough to run more than a foot past her shoulders and normally kept in a mop of a ponytail.
Rook is toned but not muscled, easily strong enough to lift her own weight. Thin and occasional deep scars run her arms, legs, and torso, but by far the most noticeable are the large remnants of severe burns across the entirety of her shoulders and down her back ten notches of her spine.
Talents:
Wilderness Survival: Rook sees very little difference between a night spent in a bed and a night spent in a tree, and in several ways even prefers the latter. She’s had plenty of chances to learn how to get along off the beaten track and all the skills that requires, and has done so enthusiastically.
First aid: Spending long stretches of time out in the wilderness and actively avoiding doctors meant when she got hurt, it was up to her to fix it. While not a doctor herself in any sense, she can give decent enough care to most wounds for the recipient to make it to the hospital or tough it out through recovery.
Sharp Shooting: Even without her abilities guiding her bullets, Rook’s a good enough shot that she can target kneecaps from a sizable distance away. Better to hit where it hurts rather than where it kills.
Parkour: Running, jumping, and flipping for show are all common pastimes of hers. Rook can scale most buildings that have some sort of handhold and easily lift her own weight.
Driving: The road has been Rook’s home for years. She has experience with everything from semi trucks she doesn’t own to motorcycles she’s bought with someone else’s money, and drives from the 20 hour cross country long hauls to off roading off rocks in the mountains.
Breaking and Entering: Picking locks, cracking open windows, hot wiring cars, Rook is skilled at borrowing someone’s property without permission for a night or two.
Hacking: While she can’t recite highschool biology, Rook has taught herself how to break and enter into various security systems. It helps when her programs commonly guess the correct passcode very early in their brute force attempts.
Personality:
Rook is carefree, to put it lightly. She speaks her mind, goes where she wants, and does whatever takes her fancy, sometimes just for the reaction of onlookers or whoever she’s dragged along. At her heart, Rook’s a lover of exploration and discovery - discovering new places, exploring new aspects of people, and taking whatever crazy adventures she finds herself on on the way there. Law nor danger can keep her out of where she wants to go. If there’s an old abandoned factory she wants to explore, she’s doing just that; if peril awaits her, all the better for it. She’s got enough sense to not try something that will certainly get her killed, but she dances on a thin line between courage and foolishness. She swears the only reason she’s lived as long as she has is her extraordinarily good luck and knowing when it’s time to turn around and book it in the other direction.
Authority means nothing to Rook. She will do what she wants, and if one manages to dissuade her from something, chances are high she’ll just come back later to try it again. At the same time, she’s often very open to suggestions for to what to do; if someone’s got a plan, she’s often the first person to agree to come along. It’s less she dislikes being told what to do as she hates being told what not to do. Similarly, though technically holding a position of authority at the school, she expects it to be taken about as seriously as a rude internet comment. She takes any slights against it more as an excuse to launch into a fight or other mischief than as any kind of offense.
In Rook’s view, life is best taken with a smile and a cheerful tune. Even when things are tough, she slaps on a grin and her nonchalant attitude and runs at her troubles head-on, tending to see struggle and pain as a challenge to overcome rather than something to get upset about. She’s also very optimistic about people; she sees everyone as a grand story waiting to be told, as well as a possible friend. In some ways she’s inclined to gloss over people’s flaws, even their glaring ones, to take as “just part of who they are and what makes them interesting”.
Rook is also extraordinarily loyal. Once she makes a good friend, there’s very little they can do to have that title redacted, and very little she’s not willing to do for them. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night nor risk of life or limb stays her from helping a friend when they need it.
In matters of the destruction often brought up by mages, Rook tends to stay fairly neutral. Property damage is all fun and games for her and a festivity she’ll gladly join in on, but when it comes to the harm caused to regular folk, she tends to stand back and let what happens happen. She shies away from taking any lives herself, and occasionally she has stepped in to try to save a life, but those instances are fairly far between.
History:
When her powers manifested, Rook was fifteen and sleeping in a Minnesota motel, on the other side of the country from her legal home with a friend as far away from her parents as she was. Mariabell and her had run away together, and for the last month and a half things had been rough. They’d scrapped by on what they could steal and earn off a day’s work, hitching rides and eating restaurant leftovers after an afternoon of doing dishes. The illness that’d overtaken Rook had them in one spot longer than they’d been in a long while. As the fever ebbed, the hallucinations faded and Rook was finally able to sit up in bed again, their attempts to make it or break it spontaneously and miraculously got a whole lot easier.
A delivery person came and knocked on their motel door, claiming he had the pizza order “Paulita” sent in online and already paid for. The next morning, the found one of the cars had been left with its keys on the seat, the owner having stumbled into their model room flat-faced drunk the night before. The two of them fumbled into empty summer homes and perfectly good packaged food thrown out. When things turned dangerous, fire escapes fell on would-be muggers and the car of abductors crashed, leaving them unconscious with blunt trauma and glass cuts while the two girls left completely unscathed. To Rook, it all felt like flipping a switch on a large circuit breaker.
One day, she decided to flip the switch for answers. Whatever was happening she knew was her fault, but the why of it all wasn’t something her meager two years of high school had bothered with. Luck bumped her into several other mages as she and Mariabell traveled the country, some by accident and some in chat rooms before in person, and none of whom had much more of an idea than her. Just strange telekinetic powers, or water manipulation abilities. All anyone could seem to put together was a very, very few people had been gifted with extraordinary power.
And, as luck would have it, one of Mariabell’s ex-boyfriends had been one such person.
The two had met in a small gas station in the middle of nowhere, and had instantly fallen for each other. The eighteen-year-old was added to the other two eighteen-year-olds’ party and three of them had traveled for about a month or so together before his uncomfortably violent tendencies grew into violence against Mariabell herself. It escalated into three guns pulled as Mariabell stepped up and Rook stepped in, all of his shots flying wild and Mariabell’s landing true in his foot. It was almost a year after they drove away from the empty parking lot that they saw him again. This time, wreathed in flames.
Rook had never been overly showy with her powers. Truly strange rolls of chance occasionally happened around her and around observers, either accidentally or the times she did want to show off, but all could be shrugged off as just strange chances. She was never in one place long enough for there to become a pattern. The largest show of her power, easily, was when the fire mage returned to get revenge on Mariabell. A debunked youtube video taken off a witness’s phone of the fight, from the fires that washed over the residential street, turning plants, apartment buildings, and anything not made of stone to cinders, to the stone walls crumbling without their burned supports to block the fire in ways so precise it couldn’t be possible, to the moment her one chance to end the fight opened up, and Rook pulled the trigger. The headshot was perfectly clean.
Ten people died that day and nearly two dozen more were sent to the hospital with severe injuries. While Rook numbered among the ones to wake up on a hospital bed, both Mariabell and the mage were names listed as casualties of the freak summer flash fire.
There was nothing more for Rook to do but continue on traveling as she always had, although occasional testimonies of someone surviving a direct supernatural attack by miraculous luck began to crop up and gather on the internet.
Rook happened upon the Academy completely by accident. One day about a year ago she stumbled upon a portal, and, curious, she wandered inside. Her experience wandering around the information age and her uncanny ability to wander randomly into mages landed her her official first job as an academy coordinator and she’s been handing out academy business cards to upcoming world destroyers since.
Magic Overview:
Rook is impossibly lucky. Cars will drive by in time to catch bullets, struck buildings will fall in just the right way to hinder her enemies, and she has for a fact found a suitcase containing a million dollars just laying out on the ground. She seems to have vague control over the ability in the sense that she’ll usually get results along the lines of what she wants, but asking how it will go about happening tends to get a shrug and a “just wait” from her. People around her occasionally find themselves experiencing similar luck, or those standing on the other side of the battlefield exactly the opposite.
Tools: For lack of the destructive force many powers claim, Rook usually carries with her some weapons of her own. The handgun and hand taser are her most common, the first of which normally loaded with rubber bullets, but occasionally she’ll pull out something bigger she’s nicked from someone rich or miliary-inclined. When she can spare the maneuverability she wears a bullet-proof jacket under her sweatshirt, and when in need of more she drags out her old off-road motorcycle or nicks one nearby for herself.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Group: Tyrants
Homeworld: The Information Age: 2018 CE
Occupation: Academy Coordinator
Face Claim: Touken Ranbu - Namazuo Toushirou
Appearance: 5ft 2in, 110lbs, Rook is built like a box; a very short, small box. Her shoulders are fairly narrow, but her hips equally so, and her waist never dips far enough in to be noticeable beneath the fairly simple clothes she wears. Every once in awhile she’ll dress up when she has to look important, but the rest of the year her wardrobe is entirely functional; hoodies for cold and maneuverability, t-shirts and tight fitting tanks when it gets warmer. Jewelry is void enough even her ears aren’t pierced, though small closed holes suggest they once were. The one point of impracticality is her black hair, long enough to run more than a foot past her shoulders and normally kept in a mop of a ponytail.
Rook is toned but not muscled, easily strong enough to lift her own weight. Thin and occasional deep scars run her arms, legs, and torso, but by far the most noticeable are the large remnants of severe burns across the entirety of her shoulders and down her back ten notches of her spine.
Talents:
Wilderness Survival: Rook sees very little difference between a night spent in a bed and a night spent in a tree, and in several ways even prefers the latter. She’s had plenty of chances to learn how to get along off the beaten track and all the skills that requires, and has done so enthusiastically.
First aid: Spending long stretches of time out in the wilderness and actively avoiding doctors meant when she got hurt, it was up to her to fix it. While not a doctor herself in any sense, she can give decent enough care to most wounds for the recipient to make it to the hospital or tough it out through recovery.
Sharp Shooting: Even without her abilities guiding her bullets, Rook’s a good enough shot that she can target kneecaps from a sizable distance away. Better to hit where it hurts rather than where it kills.
Parkour: Running, jumping, and flipping for show are all common pastimes of hers. Rook can scale most buildings that have some sort of handhold and easily lift her own weight.
Driving: The road has been Rook’s home for years. She has experience with everything from semi trucks she doesn’t own to motorcycles she’s bought with someone else’s money, and drives from the 20 hour cross country long hauls to off roading off rocks in the mountains.
Breaking and Entering: Picking locks, cracking open windows, hot wiring cars, Rook is skilled at borrowing someone’s property without permission for a night or two.
Hacking: While she can’t recite highschool biology, Rook has taught herself how to break and enter into various security systems. It helps when her programs commonly guess the correct passcode very early in their brute force attempts.
Personality:
Rook is carefree, to put it lightly. She speaks her mind, goes where she wants, and does whatever takes her fancy, sometimes just for the reaction of onlookers or whoever she’s dragged along. At her heart, Rook’s a lover of exploration and discovery - discovering new places, exploring new aspects of people, and taking whatever crazy adventures she finds herself on on the way there. Law nor danger can keep her out of where she wants to go. If there’s an old abandoned factory she wants to explore, she’s doing just that; if peril awaits her, all the better for it. She’s got enough sense to not try something that will certainly get her killed, but she dances on a thin line between courage and foolishness. She swears the only reason she’s lived as long as she has is her extraordinarily good luck and knowing when it’s time to turn around and book it in the other direction.
Authority means nothing to Rook. She will do what she wants, and if one manages to dissuade her from something, chances are high she’ll just come back later to try it again. At the same time, she’s often very open to suggestions for to what to do; if someone’s got a plan, she’s often the first person to agree to come along. It’s less she dislikes being told what to do as she hates being told what not to do. Similarly, though technically holding a position of authority at the school, she expects it to be taken about as seriously as a rude internet comment. She takes any slights against it more as an excuse to launch into a fight or other mischief than as any kind of offense.
In Rook’s view, life is best taken with a smile and a cheerful tune. Even when things are tough, she slaps on a grin and her nonchalant attitude and runs at her troubles head-on, tending to see struggle and pain as a challenge to overcome rather than something to get upset about. She’s also very optimistic about people; she sees everyone as a grand story waiting to be told, as well as a possible friend. In some ways she’s inclined to gloss over people’s flaws, even their glaring ones, to take as “just part of who they are and what makes them interesting”.
Rook is also extraordinarily loyal. Once she makes a good friend, there’s very little they can do to have that title redacted, and very little she’s not willing to do for them. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night nor risk of life or limb stays her from helping a friend when they need it.
In matters of the destruction often brought up by mages, Rook tends to stay fairly neutral. Property damage is all fun and games for her and a festivity she’ll gladly join in on, but when it comes to the harm caused to regular folk, she tends to stand back and let what happens happen. She shies away from taking any lives herself, and occasionally she has stepped in to try to save a life, but those instances are fairly far between.
History:
When her powers manifested, Rook was fifteen and sleeping in a Minnesota motel, on the other side of the country from her legal home with a friend as far away from her parents as she was. Mariabell and her had run away together, and for the last month and a half things had been rough. They’d scrapped by on what they could steal and earn off a day’s work, hitching rides and eating restaurant leftovers after an afternoon of doing dishes. The illness that’d overtaken Rook had them in one spot longer than they’d been in a long while. As the fever ebbed, the hallucinations faded and Rook was finally able to sit up in bed again, their attempts to make it or break it spontaneously and miraculously got a whole lot easier.
A delivery person came and knocked on their motel door, claiming he had the pizza order “Paulita” sent in online and already paid for. The next morning, the found one of the cars had been left with its keys on the seat, the owner having stumbled into their model room flat-faced drunk the night before. The two of them fumbled into empty summer homes and perfectly good packaged food thrown out. When things turned dangerous, fire escapes fell on would-be muggers and the car of abductors crashed, leaving them unconscious with blunt trauma and glass cuts while the two girls left completely unscathed. To Rook, it all felt like flipping a switch on a large circuit breaker.
One day, she decided to flip the switch for answers. Whatever was happening she knew was her fault, but the why of it all wasn’t something her meager two years of high school had bothered with. Luck bumped her into several other mages as she and Mariabell traveled the country, some by accident and some in chat rooms before in person, and none of whom had much more of an idea than her. Just strange telekinetic powers, or water manipulation abilities. All anyone could seem to put together was a very, very few people had been gifted with extraordinary power.
And, as luck would have it, one of Mariabell’s ex-boyfriends had been one such person.
The two had met in a small gas station in the middle of nowhere, and had instantly fallen for each other. The eighteen-year-old was added to the other two eighteen-year-olds’ party and three of them had traveled for about a month or so together before his uncomfortably violent tendencies grew into violence against Mariabell herself. It escalated into three guns pulled as Mariabell stepped up and Rook stepped in, all of his shots flying wild and Mariabell’s landing true in his foot. It was almost a year after they drove away from the empty parking lot that they saw him again. This time, wreathed in flames.
Rook had never been overly showy with her powers. Truly strange rolls of chance occasionally happened around her and around observers, either accidentally or the times she did want to show off, but all could be shrugged off as just strange chances. She was never in one place long enough for there to become a pattern. The largest show of her power, easily, was when the fire mage returned to get revenge on Mariabell. A debunked youtube video taken off a witness’s phone of the fight, from the fires that washed over the residential street, turning plants, apartment buildings, and anything not made of stone to cinders, to the stone walls crumbling without their burned supports to block the fire in ways so precise it couldn’t be possible, to the moment her one chance to end the fight opened up, and Rook pulled the trigger. The headshot was perfectly clean.
Ten people died that day and nearly two dozen more were sent to the hospital with severe injuries. While Rook numbered among the ones to wake up on a hospital bed, both Mariabell and the mage were names listed as casualties of the freak summer flash fire.
There was nothing more for Rook to do but continue on traveling as she always had, although occasional testimonies of someone surviving a direct supernatural attack by miraculous luck began to crop up and gather on the internet.
Rook happened upon the Academy completely by accident. One day about a year ago she stumbled upon a portal, and, curious, she wandered inside. Her experience wandering around the information age and her uncanny ability to wander randomly into mages landed her her official first job as an academy coordinator and she’s been handing out academy business cards to upcoming world destroyers since.
Magic Overview:
Rook is impossibly lucky. Cars will drive by in time to catch bullets, struck buildings will fall in just the right way to hinder her enemies, and she has for a fact found a suitcase containing a million dollars just laying out on the ground. She seems to have vague control over the ability in the sense that she’ll usually get results along the lines of what she wants, but asking how it will go about happening tends to get a shrug and a “just wait” from her. People around her occasionally find themselves experiencing similar luck, or those standing on the other side of the battlefield exactly the opposite.
Tools: For lack of the destructive force many powers claim, Rook usually carries with her some weapons of her own. The handgun and hand taser are her most common, the first of which normally loaded with rubber bullets, but occasionally she’ll pull out something bigger she’s nicked from someone rich or miliary-inclined. When she can spare the maneuverability she wears a bullet-proof jacket under her sweatshirt, and when in need of more she drags out her old off-road motorcycle or nicks one nearby for herself.
