MagiStream

Age: 27.
Gender: Male.
Class: Wyvern Rider.
Alliance: Resistance; Dove.
Appearance: Very little of him is his father at least in appearance. It is from his mother that Aldwin has taken the vibrant shading of red in his hair and the hazel of greens flecked with blue in his eyes. Like her he is tall in stature at 6'4'' and like her he is rarely seen without a silver emblem hanging from his neck. But there are traces of his father to be found in the broadness of his shoulders and the purposed gait of his walk even when he is at his most relaxed. The years he spent under the tutelage of his father and of the army have produced in body what they could not in mind: a hardened soldier. A preference for a fighting style focused more on endurance and strength than speed has given him some muscular bulk and the labor of hand calloused skin. His almost daily practice with his bow and the years he has spent caring for his wyvern as well has contributed to the scarring.

History: Born on the outskirts of the Nohr Kingdom Aldwin spent the better part of his early childhood raised by his mother. His father -- a knight of some prowess -- had been called away to the capital some months before his birth and even after would live his life on rotation between the town and Windmire with more time devoted there than with his wife and child. Politics meant little to a son whose only understanding was that his father spent only a third of his time with him compared to what he spent with the king's army. In this way his mother was the strongest influence of his childhood which made the sting of perceived betrayal all the more worse when at the age of nine she did nothing to dissuade his father when he sent for him. The resentment he harbored however for his distant parent would overshadow any ill will he felt towards his mother and in time he would come to forgive and to pity her. Without husband, without child, and without choice she was alone as she had been most her life.

The reason for his presence at the outpost under the watchful eye of his father was made apparent to him within hours of his arrival. Despite being so young himself his father had every intention of training and grooming Aldwin to take his position when the time came for it. So it was that the next years of his life were spent learning how to fight for a country struggling just to stand on its own two feet. Life in his hometown had not been without its own burdens and troubles but his training and his travels with the army exposed him to how deep the sickness of the kingdom ran. It stirred a resentment in Aldwin against not only his leader but his father as well. He loved the man but it was a distant relationship accompanied by an ache for the presence of his mother. She wrote but it was not quite the same as it had been when he'd been a child. It was as he grew older however and began to step away from idealism to realism that he saw how truly human his parents were. He pitied them.

When the lot of his country was cast into the brink of war against a bordering nation Aldwin held his tongue against his father. He continued to lead and to train new recruits -- not all he thought were willing but had signed on out of need rather than patriotism -- and at nightfall joined his father in the barracks as he held war councils with the higher-ranked officials of his company. But then the rumors began to spread in words lost in the night of a rebellion stirring somewhere in the east. Some warned their impending enemy was beginning to stir while others claimed they were setting their own country up for a fall. Aldwin listened and he learned and he picked through the tangled threads. He knew there was a chance he could be wrong. The rumors of a rebellion might be more malicious than he thought or worse yet it might not exist at all but in the dead of night all the same he gathered his wyvern -- Einhardt -- and a few weeks' worth of supplies. He deserted the company without a single word left behind in the empty space of his cot.

Personality: Aldwin Deering is a man frustrated with the world. He is not nearly so selfish however as to think he deserves more than any other man born into this life or even that he is so important the world should be concerned with his opinions of it. Rather than wallow he has elected for a path of action to change his lot no matter how little it might matter in the grand scheme of things what he does. No one man is a turning tide, but he can fight to be part of its driving force that gives it strength. He is empathetic with a strong affection for the wyvern he has raised since he was a hatchling and is rarely seen without Einhardt in his company. Towards those younger than him he is encouraging but firm as a result of the years his father entrusted in the training of recruits under his hand. For this he is protective as well of those he brings under his fold. His loyalty is not to a kingdom or to even an ideal but to those individuals whose identities are so often erased and forgotten when war comes to the land. In this way it is for the people that he has taken up the mantle and turned his back on a father too worn down to even attempt to do what is right.

Age has tempered him and experience made him wise but much of who he is has been shaped by the military. Its influence reflects in almost every single one of his actions. How could it not when he was taken to it so young? But he is kind where he could be cruel; he is level-headed where he could be angry. There is something of a fire to him that sparks and spits when agitated but with practice he learned to not let temper get the better of him. For all the ill will Aldwin might bear towards his father he understands and appreciates the things he is capable of doing by the skills he was taught. Whether forgiveness is in him however is something he has yet to learn. Up until this point his grievances have carried with him and coupled with his courage have been the driving force that pushed him forward. He has not completely shaken the idealism of his youth -- proof of such is in his casting his cards with the Doves -- but he will do what he thinks is right even when right itself is a complicated situation. Life is not clean cut. A man must work with what he is given lest he do nothing at all.

Orientation: Heterosexual.
Weapons: Shining Bow.

Age: 25
Gender: Male
Class: None (Former Cavalier)
Alliance: Resistance—Doves
Appearance: Ayer has a naturally light skin tone, prevented from tanning due to his avoidance of outdoor activities. He is rather tall at almost exactly six feet, though most of his height is in his legs. There's a long scar on his back, stretching from his left shoulder to his right hip, but it's normally covered by his clothing—for obvious reasons. The Resistance's dress code may be lax, but parading around base without a shirt on would probably be frowned upon.

His usual expression is an easy, lazy grin; it's the sort of grin worn by people too full of themselves, but also the sort of grin worn by people who just found a leaf in the shape of a dick. He has slightly narrow black eyes, and this squint-eyed look combined with his constant smirk makes him seem like a real shady person. Which he probably is—you can't trust those dang diplomats.

His unruly black hair is clearly what he woke up with, not even gone over once with a comb. It sticks up in a weird, gravity-defying bed head, and what sort of god-awful sleeping position Ayer must have to get it to end up in such a hideous style is the subject of many a bemused lunchtime discussion by some of his fellow resistance members. Some people think he uses gel, but that would involve actually gelling his hair which, according to Ayer, takes too much time and energy.

He normally dresses sloppily, sometimes wandering through the base in only his sleepwear. But when given a diplomatic mission, he has a walk-in closet full of formal clothes he can draw from, with styles from every sub-culture there is—he even has an elaborate oni headdress tucked away in some rarely opened drawer. He's the opposite of careless when he has a mission to attend to, and spends hours on his appearance. Afterwards, even Yaboku has to look twice when he sees him—with his hair meticulously combed and styled, his skin softly glowing from a hard scrubbing, and his usual shapeless tunic exchanged for the sharply polished ceremonial armor of formal court, Ayer cuts quite a different figure. He's actually rather conventionally handsome when he's all dolled up. One needs to have at least a halfway decent face to be a successful diplomat, after all.

History: Ayer's initiation into the Resistance began when he wandered into base atop his horse and promptly passed out, landing face first on the ground. He was found a couple hours later by one of the War Hawks, who brought him underground for questioning. A glass of water and a meal later, Ayer assured the Resistance that he was just a traveler from faraway lands looking for work. He asked to join, and after a few hushed voices cursing the open-door recruitment rule, he was put into the ranks of the War Hawks.

Because he had no researchable past nor a convincing story, he was placed temporarily under direct command of General Cael, for observation. He'd be on foot until they could trust him; a horse's high movement would make it hard for him to be controlled. But a minor skirmish later, they discovered that he was absolutely useless in battle—as soon as a single drop of blood was shed, he was paralyzed, body rooted to the ground even as an enemy warrior swung an ax at his face. Cael blocked the blow and immediately ordered him to "go help the healers, damn it, that stunt just now was as good proof as any that you're not a spy".

After that battle, he was led to the other side of the base and rather rudely tossed into an office. Yaboku's office. The leader of the Doves took Ayer under his wing (haha, bird pun) and let him help around the diplomatic side of the Resistance. He mainly filed papers and acted as a messenger boy until Yaboku needed an extra horse to carry his stuff. Fish was the only horse lying around (Literally. That horse sleeps a lot), and with Fish came Ayer.

For the sake of not stranding Ayer in the horse stables, Yaboku let him pretend to be an advisor. In the middle of diplomatic court, Ayer suggested a course of action to Yaboku, and it miraculously worked. After that, he was officially inducted into the Dove community and trained in the arts of diplomacy.

Personality: Ayer is approachable, with a friendly demeanor and a laid-back attitude. He's a good listener, which means that he'll sprawl on the nearest vaguely horizontal surface and hum a bit while someone vents their worries to him. But he's not one for gossip, so secrets are safe with him—the fact that he never seeks out people to talk with probably helps with secret-keeping.

A total pacifist, Ayer loathes battle. He chose to become a diplomat in order to resolve the war with the least amount of bloodshed. Because even more than the concept of battle, Ayer loathes the blood that comes with it. While little things like raw meat or bloody noses don't do much except make him slightly queasy, the carnage of battle leaves him paralyzed and shaking, barely able to stand up. He makes sure to stay far away from the War Hawk's side of the base when they return from skirmishes, and he stays in his room as much as he can for the first few days after battle to avoid any chance of seeing the gory aftermath.

Ayer's favorite hobby is sleeping, and if he isn't sleeping he's thinking of increasingly creative places to sleep. The highlight of his career was when he fell asleep folded inside the blacksmith's tool closet. The poor apprentice who found him in there nearly had a heart attack. The door he was propped up against gone, Ayer had bonelessly dripped onto the floor, where he continued to nap undisturbed.

In the court, he's charismatic and charming, skilled in sweet-talking but also relentless in pushing ahead the moment he spies a glimmer of an advantage. He takes his work very seriously, and if his proposals are rejected or if he loses control of the court, he'll beat himself up about it for days. He prefers not to show his anger in front of others, but the walls of his room have been punched quite a few times.

Ayer has a tendency to talk to himself, as if he is talking to someone named "Tajei". He won't tell anyone who this "Tajei" is, but if asked why he keeps addressing his questions to him, he'll say that it's just out of habit.

Orientation: Asexual

Weapons: None

Other: His horse, named 'Fish' by a three-year-old Ayer, has a reddish-brown coat and black points. He's getting a bit on in his years, however, so his muzzle bears a smattering of white hairs. Ayer claims that Fish is much calmer than he was in his younger days, but people still see Ayer being thrown off his back a couple times per week.

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Class: Hero
Alliance: Resistance; Head of the War Hawks
Appearance: Cael stands at 5'11", with a muscular build carefully cultivated through years of hard training. His tanned skin is littered with scars, reminders of the dangers of letting one's guard down. He doesn't put much effort into his appearance; he often goes a few days before shaving, and his dark brown hair is rarely groomed. Cael keeps his hair relatively short to keep it out of his way in battle, and also so that he doesn't have to waste time combing it. His eyes are olive green and uncompromising.

To battle, he wears armor gilded with gold; his vanity and obsession with the idea of class makes him recoil from the idea of
wearing normal plate mail. He thinks the armor makes him look more the part of a leader.

Even in peaceful times, he's rarely seen without at least the unarmored portions of his battle outfit. He prides himself on being ready for an ambush at any time. He sleeps with his sword in hand's reach.

History: The bastard child of a minor Hoshidan lord and his Nohrian lover, Cael was raised alone by his mother in the outskirts of Nohr. The village children made fun of his soft Hoshidan features, and his mother was shunned for fear of backlash by the Nohrian government—having a child with a Hoshidan could be interpreted as a prelude to treason.

At school, he was Cael, loyal Nohrian soldier-wanna-be, but at home he was "Tsuneo, Tsuneo, Tsuneo" whispered into his hair as his mother held him close, too-thin body impossibly frail against him. They didn't have much to eat, because his mother didn't have a steady job. Her occasional work as a field hand and laborer only allowed them the simplest of meals.

When Cael was 14, his father visited his home for the first time—with a regiment of men behind him. The family Cael's father was to be wedded into had discovered his past affairs, and demanded he end them if he desired to preserve the marriage arrangement. Cael's mother was captured and taken back to Hoshido to be executed—spilling Nohrian blood on Nohrian soil might catch the attention of the royal family. Cael himself was spared after a lot of negotiating on his father's part, and was left knocked out in the middle of the village as the Hoshidan convoy returned to their homeland.

From that point on, Cael began to train daily. He garnered some pity from the village blacksmith, who gave him a sword to practice with and a few tips about the art of war. He did odd jobs to support himself, and lived alone. When he was 18, he left home and began to look for a place to plant the seeds of a revolution.

He found fertile soil in Cheve, and after a few months of settling in and convincing the villagers to join his cause, he met Yaboku. They realized they shared a common goal, if not a common method, and decided to found the Resistance together. The War Hawks would protect the Doves from attacks from enemy soldiers, and the Doves would discourage politicians from banding together to end the Resistance altogether.

Cael and Yaboku formed an uneasy peace, and have managed to lead the two factions of the Resistance together for the past three years.

Personality: Cael is solitary, preferring to spend the quiet times between skirmishes training by himself rather than conversing with the other members of the Resistance. Oftentimes, he comes off as curt or arrogant—because he is. The extent of his conversations with his subordinates are meetings to disclose the plans for the next battle. It's not that he treats his soldiers as disposable—every soldier is a valuable unit in his eyes. But that's all they are to him: soldiers. They're just a means to win the next battle, not people with hopes and dreams of their own.

As head of the War Hawks, it's only natural that Cael boasts exceptional fighting skills. He always leads the army onto the battlefield himself; he holds the belief that a good leader fights with his subordinates. However, he's quick to abandon an opponent he's fighting if it means saving one of his soldiers from death or serious injury; a foolish decision in the midst of war, to turn your back on an enemy, but it is a decision he makes nonetheless. With the ranks of the War Hawks being meager as it is, it is of the utmost importance to keep those ranks as strong and populated as possible.

A devotee to the idea of predetermined fate, he believes that it is his destiny to bring peace to Nohr and Hoshido. This disillusioned way of thinking often clouds his good judgment, and makes him frustratingly stubborn on the methods he chooses.

He's easy to trick because he expects everyone to act within his outdated concept of honor. This unrealistic expectation also prevents him from choosing the best course of action—he refuses to consider poisoning someone, for example, even if it would prevent a lot of bloodshed in the future.

Though the Resistance is by definition neutral, Cael holds a great scorn towards Hoshidans. He detests their hypocritical actions
—for a country that prides itself on being "peaceful", they didn't seem to be at all willing to negotiate peace. He grudgingly respects Nohr for being upfront about their intentions; they at least don't try to hide their bloodthirsty beliefs behind a false screen of placidity.

What is he fighting for? What revolutionary action could bring about an end to this carnage? He doesn't know, doesn't even want to think about the hopelessness that greets him every time he enters the battlefield, but he grasps at the belief that the gods will lead him to the right path and he fights.

Orientation: Angrily gay
Weapons: Steel Sword, Hand Axe
Other:

Age: 20
Gender: Female
Class: Mercenary
Alliance: Resistance—War Hawks
Appearance: Etain is petite, standing at only 5'1". Her skin is light-toned and unmarked—somehow, she's been lucky enough to have remained safe from both her enemies' weapons and the onslaught of pimples that most experienced upon puberty. She has a light build, with narrow shoulders and no curves.

Her pale pink hair is cut in a short bob cut. It tends to curve upwards at the ends, regardless of how much she brushes it. She likes to wear wooden barrettes with designs such as flowers or slices of fruit. She has amber eyes and thin, angular eyebrows.

When slouching around camp, she likes to wear loose sweaters and skirts. But when it come time for her weekly trip to town, she has a couple outfits she keeps of the newest fashions; from sundresses to snazzy suits, she carefully selects her clothes to match the aesthetic of whatever bar or inn she’s heading to.

To battle, she wears a short tan dress made of a sturdy material and thick black leggings, with light armor on top of that. When asked why she doesn't wear something more practical for battle, she claims that she needs to look attractive in case she gets injured and is taken home by some pretty village lass.

History: Etain grew up in a small village in Nohr as the youngest of four siblings. She was born a nearly a decade after the birth of her nearest sibling, and so grew up almost like an only child. She spent her childhood tenderly cared for by her aging parents, and she got anything she asked for.

Her mother had a small plot of land behind their house that she lovingly tended; it was this that sparked Etain's interest in flower symbolism. They spent lazy days gardening together, raising warm geraniums and gentle flax; primrose childhood and lilac innocence. With her father, she trained in the arts of the sword—in a Nohrian household, it was just as expected for a child to know how to wield a blade as it was for a child to know how to write their own name.

After her cousin Yura came to stay with her family, Etain finally had a playmate around her age. And what better toy to play with than the delicate hearts of village girls? Yura taught her most of what she knows about the arts of flirting, and even a bit about the more risque parts of romancing a woman.

She left home at the age of 18 when she heard of the grassroots Resistance. She didn't join for any noble reason—no, quite on the contrary. The War Hawks travel frequently around country borders because those were where most skirmishes began. That meant that she could experience girls from both Hoshido and Nohr, and maybe even of the small independent countries like Izana! By this time, her elderly parents had moved into one of her brother's house, and so freed from any ties to the village, she convinced Yura to come with her and left for Cheve.

Personality: Etain is upbeat and outgoing. She's always up for a chat, especially if the subject matter is girls. She has an optimistic mindset, though this makes her unprepared for any misfortune that may come her way.

Etain's gotten everything she's wanted in life so far, and has never entertained the possibility of failure. She doesn't fear death—doesn't even consider it a possibility—and so charges recklessly into battle with a wide smile on her lips. Her weapon of choice has her often pitted against Nohrian wyverns several times her tiny size, but she faces them fearlessly.

She's not a great fighter; her blows don't have much strength behind them and she's not quite fast enough to land several blows on an enemy at once. She's dodged most serious blows so far in her War Hawk career, but most of them only through sheer luck. Her weapon and her reckless nature are the only reasons that that she's able to rack up a good number of kills.

Etain sees frequent flings as vital for enjoying her youth. As such, she goes to town once every week to pick up the night's bed warmer—most of them expecting more than just a one-night stand. But Etain shies away from commitment. She's seen too many broken hearts to risk her own, so she cuts off any potential relationships before they start.

She has a penchant for flower symbolism, and often uses flowers to express her feelings when words fail her. She often gives gifts of flowers to woo the village girls. Cheve's florist knows her by name, and often treats her to a cup of tea whenever she pays a visit (quite a common occurrence; at least once a week if the War Hawks are hanging around base). Her room is decorated with dry flowers, and there's always a vase of fresh ones on her nightstand. The only books she owns are thick reference texts on flower symbolism and a small journal where she records the name of each girl she's bedded. She claims it's because she and Yura are competing and she needs to keep track of her score, but in reality she keeps the journal because she wants to convince herself that she's treating the girls she seduces as humans, not just as playthings to be thrown away once she gets bored.

Orientation: rlly gey (gray-homoromantic, homosexual)

Weapons: Wyrmslayer

Other: She really likes the taste of cabbage.