FTG's Most Gentlemanly Snake of 2016
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- Joined:
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Account Name: Sir Slithers
 “Let's have some fun.” Profile
Name: Nero
| Common Aliases: Aliases - Heiro
- Kira
- Gregor
- Ansem
- Sora
- Donald
- Harry
- Ron
- Hermionandez
- Bob
| - Larry
- Fredric
- Rudolph
- *unintelligible clicking noises*
- Adrien
- Alexander
- Dante
- Christien
- Kristopher
- Kenji
| "My personal favourite is Samson Jeffries von Archibalding III, Vice-Count of Tessera~" | Age: 24
| Gender: Male
| Height: 173cm
| Weight: 75kg
| Guild: N/A
| Class: D
| Affiliation: True Neutral
| Nationality: Fiorian
| Birth Date: May 19th
| Birth Place: "The Tavern."
| Occupation: "Does being jobless count?"
| Current Residence: "The Tavern." | | |
| Appearance |
|---|
Physical Description Physical Description: "Be honest, you think I'm hot." Nero is an averagely tall and thin man with an unnaturally pale tone to his skin, as if he'd spent most of his life indoors. With an androgynous look about him, it's near enough impossible to tell his gender just by glancing at him, though his voice is an easy indicator. His hair is unkempt and short, pure white in colour. His eyebrows are thin, arching over a pair of small, amber-gold eyes that seem to radiate his comic nature. These eyes are without a doubt the most (literally) attractive feature of him, as if behind the crystalline gaze sleeps something much colder. Under a thin nose that is commonly the target of rouge fists lies a couple thin, pinkish-red lips that are constantly curled into a lazy smirk. Despite his height, Nero is notably physically weak, as detailed by the lack of musculature in his limbs. Though without much in terms of beef, Nero's limbs are lanky and long, his arms ending in smooth hands with thin, spindly fingers. Due to his natural hair colour, his body hair is difficult to make out without close inspection. Though his torso is without notable abdominal muscle, he still remains rather attractive. His thin form allows for him to have a somewhat neutral body that's soft and comforting to be embraced by and is not initially intimidating.
| Clothing Clothing: "Never judge a book by it's decorative plastic sleeve, seriously what the hell is that thing?" Nero wears a generally laid-back set of clothes, baggy and easy fitting. He wears a pair of black tracksuit bottoms with a white stripe up the outer side of each leg alongside a generic, cheap white t-shirt that could be replaced at a moments notice and no one would be any the wiser. His jacket is a special piece which he wears almost constantly. A powder blue hoodie jacket normally worn open with a thick, white, fluffy lining of the inside of the hood and around the neck. His shoes are a pair of dark blue sneakers with a white tongue. The clothes he owns are cheap and few, however his form fits quite nicely in any type of attire, even the most formal of suits and even some feminine clothes. |
Image [tabs][tab=1] ~ Artist[/tab][tab=2]  [/tab][tab=3]  [/tab][/tabs]
Personality
"I'm just a guy that likes jokes and eating bacon."
Nero is, by all accounts, an extraordinarily lazy individual. His carefree nature almost radiates off of him in a way that is somewhat contagious. Simplicity is his cup of tea, preferring to take the road with the fewest conflicts in order to reach his destinations. This innately creates a persona that is openly willing to lie in order to achieve any goal, be it dodging work or getting information. However, that is to say he isn't entirely anti-effort. If he finds a cause that 'isn't worth not trying' for, one might find that Nero is an almost indomitable force of sheer determination, ready and able to go to the lowest of crimes for the sake of his cause. On that note, he quite obviously enjoys undermining the authority of others and observing reactions, this has others call him a 'Stirrer' of trouble and emotions. While he does not enjoy fighting, he finds entertainment in almost everything he wilfully partakes in. Oddly, even if he's voiced approval of an activity beforehand, if one were to force him to do it against his will, he becomes quite sour. Or bitter. Or salty.
His comedic approach to life is probably one of the more major aspects of his personality. Nero is a born joker with a love of lame puns, quips and believes that no matter who it is, they can unite under laughter (or the occasional groan). His material basically comprises of whatever he thinks up at the time, or previous successful jokes he'd made. He isn't afraid to use humour to defuse a tragic, tense or stressful situation and even make jokes to get people to smile a bit if they're down. He is deathly weak to crying, as in, his defence crumbles if a subject starts crying their eyes out. Such is probably the only way to get him to feel guilty about anything he's done, since he never does anything with the intent to make someone cry. However, he is quite susceptible to crocodile tears, especially from manipulative, seemingly innocent people. He is very relaxed when it comes to contact, lazily receptive and offering of hugs and is a big animal lover. Though he is very aware of personal space in the case of others, Nero doesn't seem to have a so-called 'personal bubble', remaining relaxed even if someone is right up in his face or wrapped around him. Along with jokes, Nero is an avid storyteller, having memorised entire novels including fables and riddle books. His tricky nature seems to shine through when he becomes enthralled in having a person untangle a riddle. It seems that is how he judges one's potential in comparison to his own... Though that is just speculation.
Despite his jovial, merry-making, easy-going persona, people tend to suspect that there is much more to Nero than he lets on. As if he were putting up a front in order to blend with the rest of society. The theories may crop up when someone sees just how easy Nero finds adapting to a new or unfamiliar culture and how he seems to melt in with the everyday crowd. Nero is generally easy to miss in a cluster of people and can sink into a room with such a small presence it's like he isn't there at all. It is as if there's something sinister to the man that no one can quite put their finger on. In fact Nero, when he deems it necessary, can be an extraordinarily intimidating individual, having a naturally heavy presence that is hard to ignore; as if instead of a thin man, sitting at a chair with a deep glare was some kind of creature that hated one's guts. He also lies. A lot. In fact, more than enough for him to be considered a compulsive liar. Though no one is sure why he does this, if they ever realise, he seems to have no qualms with actively deceiving people that have put their trust in him, seeing it as nothing more than a thing he does to achieve some kind of goal. Despite his merry ways, his entire view of life is painfully nihilistic. He sees absolutely no value in anything, thus leading him to hold no alliances and act according to his own will and whim with such a harrowed, unenthusiastic attitude. He does not think this way willingly, but was the conclusion of an existential crisis in his teenage years. He has hope and his rare signs of determination let it slip that he wants the world to have meaning to him with all of his heart. While he does not openly share this view, he can sometimes spout rhetoric about the pointlessness of it all; perhaps on a whimsical day of cloud watching. And yet another day he could be convincing someone that they matter. What can I say? He doesn't like people being upset.
How he acts in a fight is generally a mystery, even to himself, since he hasn't got much experience in it at all. He might run, he might stay his ground, he might even overwhelm his opponent but rest assured, he is not going to let himself or others die, perhaps such an attitude extends to even his opponent. He actively attempts to avoid conflict and is impressively capable of this, effectively having the highest speech stat in an RPG, sacrificing offensive abilities to be brilliant at coercion, persuasion, intimidation and haggling. Of course, this can be put to a rather scary angle. His confidence in what he says makes it easy for him to have people doubt their own thoughts and psyching out his opponents. Mind games, subterfuge and psychological warfare are his specialities.
History
The Official Story Born to a financially unstable couple, Nero was admitted into care before his first birthday. He grew up in an orphanage on a secluded island off the south coast of Fiore, where he was revealed to be a brilliant mathematician and logician. It wasn't long until he was beating his carers in games of chess and checkers, passing through school without an issue. He was a bit of a troublemaker in his early years, something that carried on through his later education. He had many friends, whom he held close to his heart. However, he had to leave them and a sweetheart behind when he finished his studies two years early and travelled to the mainland at age 14. From here he drifted from place to place, taking up odd jobs for whomever would pay. He enjoyed this simple life, but due to the demand of higher qualifications for any job that would pay enough to keep him living in luxury, he went into education at multiple colleges and universities. It was at the young age of 18 when he earned his degrees in mathematical theory and strategic theory. As soon as he graduated, he was offered work within the inner sanctum of Fiore's government, which he reluctantly declined, so that he may settle. Now living in Belladonna, Nero awaits the chance to earn a lover and gain a family who he can love for the remainder of his life. The parable of a hard working, well-meaning individual. The True Story The following contains EXTENSIVE character spoilers.Continue "Uh... Hey. Look you really don't wanna be lookin' at this stuff."Continue anyways "No seriously, this stuff is... Well. It's not pleasant."I can handle it. "You say that now. Honestly, I can't stop you. If you wanna go ahead, keep on goin'."I will. "Well. I tried. Try not to think too hard on it, kiddo. I'll go get some hot chocolate or something. Seeya."CLASSIFIED For the longest time, it had been tradition. Every 25 years, the black suited agents would enter a hospital. The process of choosing which was simple. All of them. At once. On this day, one mother from each of these hospitals, would have a miscarriage. At least, that's what they were told after the surgeons bring them back from the anaesthesia they'd slipped the mothers under during labour. "The baby didn't survive. I'm sorry." Perhaps the doctors felt genuine emotion when those holding the royal insignia picked the newborns from the maternity ward, swaddle and all, and left with nary a reason. They, being the doctors, were told it was "For the good of the kingdom." Many had doubts. Many voiced them. Many were never seen again for their next shift. The infants, too young to know why they were too tired from screaming, fifty in total, were brought to a laboratory before the dawn broke.
Nine was one of these children.
His earliest memories were of the walls, bright and colourless, padded and firm. His bed was as white as the walls, as were the sheets, the frame, the floor, the ceiling, the door, the desk. Everything was white. Starchy and unbroken except for a single item sitting on the desk. A white ceramic vase that held in it's grasp a single hydrangea. It's blue was the only substance of colour he had experienced for many years. He was given books and, like many others in his place, managed to teach himself how to read with the colourless pictures in reference to the words used. Dreams of the things in the books were common. Horses and apples and gorillas and magic. His favourite page was an illustration of a park, a blue he was familiar with settled in the middle of it's grass. A puddle, he thought it was called. This was his childhood. A white glass of water and breakfast, lunch and dinner in the form of rice in a white sauce that tasted as plain as the rice, was all of the food he had come to know until he turned three.
That was when the doors opened.
The movement was sudden and terrified the young boy. Beyond the gap in his wall where the white-steel door once stood sentinel was a dreary looking floor and not much else. His eyes couldn't settle on the unusual, new colours. Things he could not understand. Such was nothing new, but was nonetheless daunting. He could hear odd noises he could not think of what they might've been. Only during his new life did he realise that they were the cries of his family. Eventually, the young man waddled out of the room, having lost himself in fear and charged at the new world with an angry scream he sometimes welcomed his walls with when they seemed out of place. The air shifted and he near vomited. It felt awful. It was cold, but what was cold when the room you lived within had the same temperature day in, day out. The floor beneath his bare feet was concrete, freezing and dark grey. He screeched at the texture, bouncing on his weak limbs in a confused attempt to get away. More screams. He saw more of himself move from the rooms, some charged, some waddled, some crawled. He had no concept of reference to any human other than himself, the mirror in his room letting him know what he looked like in the least. Confusion. Noises. New colours. The first sensation of pain. The hot flashes of cold against his face. Images flash in his mind when he tries to remember just what happened on that day.
The day the first twelve children died.
The next ten years were as blurry as that day. He was introduced to new books, stories and studies. Lessons began from 'morning' till 'dinner'. Only then did any of the children have time to themselves. To paint, draw, play together, sing, write, read. He remembered the teacher. A single person, a woman. Her name was Miss Ashitaka, but they were all told to call her Mother. Her word was law, or as close to it as possible. She taught the children maths and literature at a pace that would shock most children. The 38 under her care were exceptional. This was simply a truth. Each one had no issue keeping up with studies and excelling in every aspect. However, exercise was near non-existent and when she brought the new foods, some of them became fat. Every now and then, a child went mad, attacking Mother. If they weren't dragged out of the 'Bad Door', they were dispatched by their own peers in brutal displays of primal violence. Even he was a part of these painful rituals of kinslaughter. And despite being taught not to kill their own, it was also taught to murder those that betray their family. The concept of country came early on. Every morning they sang what they came to know as the national anthem. They knew of every royal of Fiore, being fed landscapes of the beautiful kingdom they would 'one day protect with their entire being'.
Sadly, not everyone was satisfied.
Studies into the deep intricacies of politics were a staple to be found and Nine enjoyed the times he could be left alone with a decently thick memoir of an old, hated politician, learning of his role and horrid death at the hands of his friends for damning his country with a two-year famine. He played games with his friends, specifically chosen by Mother and granted as gifts for their birthdays this year. Each game had a purpose of education and strategy. Chess, Risk, Goofspiel; each of these games being quite easily dominated by Nine and a number of others. His strategic prowess was soon recognised and a small tournament was held between all of the children, the game was Goofspiel. It was fun, Nine thought, he tried his utmost to win and decimated all but three of his opponents, who'd managed to bluff him into making nervous moves. This fourth place loss made Nine quite bitter, but... He had learned a new tactic.
With the onset of puberty came an understandable wave of rebellion amongst the remaining 20 children. They wanted to know of the outside world. Their advanced understanding of the kingdom's politics and logic made it obvious to some what their true situation was. Some demanded to know what the true intentions of Mother were. They threatened her. Men burst in when the situation got heated and the boy named Nine hid in his room with his friends "Fourty-One" and "Twenty" as their numbers dwindled further. The corpses remained in their 'courtyard' for a full week, a single phrase being played over what they now knew was a speaker over their heads.
"LOYALTY ABOVE ALL ELSE. FOR FIORE. FOR THE KING."
By the time Nine was thirteen years old, he was one of seven children. Twenty had smashed his own head against the floor and died before The Men could drag him out of the room. At this point, death was not longer something Nine was afraid of. So desensitised and hateful of the world around him and yet, he felt nothing of either. He always frowned, a serious look in his amber eyes. Even as he was waterboarded and tortured every day for an entire year, each scar being healed in his sleep for some reason found outside of medical science. The had told them that this was also training. To 'protect them in the future'. To 'protect the country'. Nine knew the real reason. They were being trained to become some kind of strategic tool for Fiore. The exact 'tool' in question was a bit too far a leap to judge but he'd figured it was something to do with deep-cover espionage. Nonetheless. He studied, withheld his glare, studied, hated and studied. He became hyperaware of logic. Politics, science, literature, psychology, each was drilled into his mind without end. To keep himself from going mad, he requested and read any book brought to him. Stories were his favourites. He memorised every word of the classic fairy tales, reciting entire novels to himself during the hardest times. When the fire in his heart and lungs charred his organs and the acid in his throat melted his vocal chords in thick screams. When the bubbling of fear in his gut lost itself into the toilet bowl.
And they were soon swallowed and in their place...
Nine wasn't sure just when it happened, but he finally discovered his magic. Thirty-Four, Seven, Fourty-Nine, Fourty-One and Eighteen already had their magics, each one more fascinating than the last. Fourty-One could create plants so, when she'd learned to control it, she made Nine some hydrangeas whenever his died. Which was often since no sunlight was given to the poor things and Mother refused to bring him more. It was pleasant. Nine enjoyed Fourty-One's company an awful lot. Soon enough they began holding hands. They were more than aware of how reproduction worked but, it wasn't exactly high on their priorities. Their 'relationship' was allowed for the most part, but when the family learned that Nine's magic was quite powerful, jealousy ran amok. His first show of power came when, during an argument with Seven, Nine somehow caused the young man to experience a crippling headache. They originally thought it was due to Seven getting too worked up, but when Seven noticed that the pain subsided as soon as Nine calmed down, they realised that it was his own magical power. The severity of the pain was so intense, Seven was in bed the remainder of the day with headaches. Nine felt powerful. Like he was now at his prime. Like he could do anything, go anywhere. He felt his head rush over the delicious possibilities that clouded his vision in a red haze and a blue smoke.
Of course, this was the beginning.
There is a severe gap in Nero's memories. From the morning after the genesis of his magical ability to the day after the escape. Two years cut out like some spiteful brain surgeon just had at him with a scalpel. To this day, he remembers so very little of the time in the facility. And yet, he harbours a deep, unfathomable hatred for it. Everything about it. The building. The room. Mother. The Men. Even the others he grew up with, whose faces had long since melted from his mind. He wanted it all gone. But not once has he gathered the courage to seek out the facility of his birth. As far as he is concerned, that part of his life was the life of Nine, a child that died long ago. Now, with his magical ability finely tuned to handle threats his pathetically weak body cannot, Nero lives his life as a joker, a storyteller and a generally lazy guy. Wandering around without much of a direction or motivation. More names than he could count in his head and yet he remembers them all. He works mainly one-day jobs, like minding a stall or helping out at an orphanage, all of which he does with the same apathetic smile and go-easy way of thing. He enjoys this new, peaceful life, despite the ghosts of ages past dogging his sleep. His experience sometimes creeps out in lashes of sadistic glee and in how extraordinarily efficient he is and how well he can just melt into a culture... But he otherwise ignores the voices of his old friends and the numbers and the secrets. Nero keeps a close eye on the political situation of Fiore, determined to at least find the reason why he and the rest of them were gathered in that facility. What was the goal? If he could push past his nihilism, he would strive to find out why. Because as the old saying goes...
It is the role of the creation to outlive the creator.
Weaponry/Equipment
D-Rank Equipment - (0) xxx | C-Rank Equipment - (0) xxx | B-Rank Equipment - (0) xxx |
A-Rank Equipment - (1) 
Name: The Telltale Heart Class: A Description: A gloriously ornate jewelled pendant in the shape of a heart, bordered with the same 24ct gold that has been used to lay a fleur-de-lis inspired pattern along either exposed face. The jewel that makes up the majority of the weight of this piece is a single, whole ruby carved smoothly in the shape of a Valentine's heart. It would fit easily in the palm of most children and has a tarnished silver chain that can not be considered the original. Those with an eye for jewellery and it's pricing would appraise the piece at over 2,000,000 Jewel at the least. It weighs as much as a small garden pebble. While in Nero's possession, the jewel exudes an odd warmth at times of great emotional influence and some unknowable, black ink shifts inside it's seemingly liquid core, as if something insidious stirs within. Effect/Function:
Of Fools and Secrets "He watched as his last child choked in their sleep. The drink clouded the sorrow and kept rooted the feet that wished to leap from the balcony..."Type: Intelligence - Gathering Range: 25m Duration (Uses): Instant (3 Uses) Cooldown: 2 Posts The Telltale Heart is a tool used by Nero, primarily, for gathering information on specific targets. By clutching the pendant in one's hand and squeezing, a sombre, female voice echoes into one's mind. The identity of the voice is unknown, however, through repeated uses, Nero has ascertained that they are from a much older Fiore and are in fact deceased. Upon a general use, the Heart will whisper secrets dependant on Nero's immediate surroundings. This does not change if the Heart enters the grasp of another, as it gives hints and clues to his whereabouts in an oddly sentient attempt to be reunited with him. The specific secrets can range from just about anything, as the Heart seems to sense information beyond mortal capability or recognition, knowing seemingly impossible things. However, the Heart seems to only speak in short, cryptic phrases that can be interpreted many ways over and often reveals facts of the past rather than events of the present. The more disturbing aspect of this ability is shown when Nero focuses on an individual while squeezing the Heart. Instead of titbits about the location, the Heart gives a brief insight into the target's character. It can reference a vast majority of things; traumatic events, debts they've accrued, crimes they've committed. It's important to note that the Heart can never, at any point, read an individual's mind or give any extraneous information on the character. For example, it cannot tell Nero that the man he's focused on is plotting to kill him and would instead hint at a sinister nature or blotchy background, perhaps his emotional motivations. This part of the Heart's ability cannot be done by anyone else without Nero's verbal permission. For this to occur on any Player Character, it would require Nero to have interacted with them in the past and gained some level of trust with them. It cannot literally mention details available on their Profile without the Owner's permission. Example Readings | Character | Trust | Possible Reading | | Mercenary Leader | NPC | "He watched as his last child choked in their sleep. The drink clouded the sorrow and kept rooted the feet that wished to leap from the balcony..." | | Humble Merchant | NPC | "Foreign oils line her pockets..." | | Magnolia | Location | "This is where hearts beat in sync... For a better future." | | Eggs. Ample | Low | "His mind is shadows and locked doors... I cannot see." | | Ex. Sample | Mid | "She watches the gargoyles and steps over each head, one stone at a time, counting..." | | Edgar Simple | High | "There is something even you and I cannot see behind those eyes..." | | Free Will | N/A | "The lighthouse warms me as I tumble into the abyss... I can see my father." | | | |
Very rarely, the Heart may even speak of it's own free will. Though it never does so to point out landmarks or assess a target. Instead, it will speak of it's own situation, as if it were capable of free thought. The things it says make the personality of the Heart that of a critically depressed and paranoid individual with severe mental trauma, giving details that may not even be related to any life it might or might not have once even had. | S-Rank Equipment - (0) xxx |
Stats - 165 Power: 10 Endurance: 30 Toughness: 5 Speed: 50 Accuracy: 20 Magic: 40 (50)
Earned Stat Points Earned: 4/114 Arc Points Earned: 9/9 Jewels Earned: 3,070,000/24,770,000 (17,020,000)
Sources
Sources Threads Total - 0 SP, 0 J Arcs Total - 0 SP, 0 AP, 0 J Events Total - 0 SP, 0 AP, 0 J
Misc. Total - 110 SP, 9 AP, 23,810,000 (16,220,000) J + Jace Harvest - 110 SP, 9 AP, 23,810,000 (16,220,000) J
Expenditures
Modifications
Skills & Disciplines
"Want something to eat? I can cook sandwiches."- Nero is a natural when it comes to cooking, finding cooking simple meals to be, well, simple! He hasn't developed his skill much however, preferring to stick to easier things like fried food and eating out to sample local delicacies. He's out of his league in the company of an avid cook.
| "Wow, this is pretty stressful, right guys?"- Nero has basically no self-consciousness, giving him an impressive ability to talk to crowds and generally act well under pressure. At the end of the world, one can only expect a level head from Nero! He's also pretty good at defusing situations through humour or something that might actually work for once.
| "What happens when you cross a tourist and a bear? A mauling."- The art of crafting jokes, riddles, stories and most things spoken is a true talent of Nero's. Using the vast collection of experiences he'd learned of, he can make up entire epics on the spot. He can't promise perfection and constant entertainment, but managing an audience is something he finds quite natural, if uncommon in his life. He's rather good at judging one's ability at solving logic puzzles and judging people in general, man is he good at judging people. Judging their sense of humour, obviously. Nothing sinister here~
| "If I didn't want you to see me, we wouldn't be having this conversation."- Hiding is one of our boy's specialities. Despite his obvious appearance, he has a knack for keeping attention away from himself if being noticed is not on his list of things to do today. Think of him like one of those guys that just seemingly melts into the backdrop, an extra in a movie that pops up eight times but you never notice until you look really, really hard.
|
Other Skills Nero is also quite capable at plenty of other things, like breathing, he's proud of his breathing. But there are some... Odd talents he's acquired over his years which are... Odd; especially for someone as lazy and apathetic as he. As if he were born in the uncanny valley. These include the following:
Polyglot - Nero's impressive understanding of multiple languages used throughout Fiore and beyond is a sign of intense study, something quite uncharacteristic by nature. He can speak at least a dozen languages without trouble and can read and write in each. Colloquialisms and slang may trip him up, but he's otherwise quite learned in the way of language.
Going Grey - His naturally lesser presence is much more a product of nurture than one might first think. Nero's uncanny knack for slipping into a culture and adapting quite neatly and can be observed by those who know him before he is introduced into a group. He may act quite different, depending on whom he's with, but he's notably careful not to arouse suspicion in those that may already know of him. Nero even comes with a plethora of aliases that he uses quite often, many of the names holding actual detail and background information that would help him fit in near enough anywhere.
Observation at it's Finest - Nero's observational ability is without a doubt perhaps his most assertive quality. The way he is able to collect, evaluate and disseminate vital information is the sign of someone who's been doing it for years on end. Any questions he bothers to ask, even the more casual ones, are sometimes met with an intense process of evaluating the target's ability, personality and especially their motives. It's not something he voices much, especially in terms of the working process, preferring to keep what he works out a secret.
Scientia Potentia Est - Despite his complacent attitude, Nero is certainly well educated and is versed in multiple subjects. His use of this knowledge, even in presenting it to prove his intelligence, is sparse. Put short, Nero is a mathematical savant, is extremely capable of logical problem solving and snap decisions. His preference of the abstract can be suggested to have been caused by an excruciating lack of it in his early years. Those who would be able to look into his background would learn he has top-tier qualifications in mathematics, physics, psychology, politics and literature.
Lying is an Art Form - Nero is a very insightful man, who finds interpreting non-verbal communication to be trivial. This allows him to perceive and deduce one's role in an event through their own emotional state. That being said, he isn't a mind reader and can be pretty wrong a lot of the time, but if someone lets their guard down he could read them like a children's book. Lying is also extraordinarily difficult to do to someone who lies almost constantly. His ability to craft entire sorties of stories on the spot makes him an exceptional liar. His ticks are few and difficult to perceive, requiring a trained eye to notice them.
Next on the Political Agenda! - His insight in the current political situation of Earthland is extensive to say the least. Though he may act as if he isn't interested, he does indeed hold quite a bit of knowledge on how the world turns on it's axis. That is to say, he's aware of the economic grease oiling the cogs of society. For him to outwardly mention any of this is very rare and situational.
Subterfuge and Sabotage - Even though Nero is generally unskilled in combat, his true abilities come from the other side of the battlefield. Highly capable in strategic thinking, he can deftly create scenarios that otherwise make it much more difficult for his opponents to win. Utilising the duality of persuasion and intimidation, Nero is a master of psychological warfare and can very extensively damage an individual's self-esteem and much more with simple words. Hell, he isn't against applying torture techniques he'd been at the mercy of before, knowing first-hand their effectiveness. Though spite is never a motivation for him, he has repeatedly proven that he cannot be beaten down with words but can offer a beating of his own. With this strategic genius comes the natural aptitude at predictive games like chess, shogi and is an avid player of card & dice games.
Magic Magic Name: Psychological Warfare Magic Type: Attrition Tier of Magic: 1 Rank: 5 Magic Description: By using his acquired psychological understanding, it seems that Nero is capable of stimulating one's brain activity, thus afflicting individuals with specific, exhaustive ailments that would ultimately reduce their effectiveness in battle and elsewhere. In this way, the effects are for all intents and purposes 'self-caused' as they are simulated by the brain and thus aren't detectable without a specific 'magic-sensing' tool or something of the like. While not strictly debuff in nature, as no stats are directly affected, the effectiveness and type of ailment depends on the specific stat targeted. This magic is limited to the effectiveness of five main techniques, each one targeting a single stat in particular (Power, Endurance, Toughness, Speed and Accuracy). Dependant on the stat, the target is then given a negative status effect. These effects are contextually specific to the stat that they target. This magic can affect any sentient creature, including Nero himself if he so wished. Cantrips of each technique can be used to specifically target one aspect found in the full technique. Nero must maintain visual contact with his target, within the techniques specific ranges, for the magic to work; thus, disturbing his line of sight with obscuring effects or physically blocking his eyes for a few seconds renders his magic unusable for that duration. If any techniques were in use, obscuring his vision does not force them to end. Instead, the effects cease for that amount of time and continue as long as visual contact is re-established before the end of the duration. Blinking, a few moments of looking away, or similar actions do not achieve this effect. When using high rank techniques of this magic, Nero can choose to produce it's signature blue, smokey glow from either or both of his eyes as a tool of intimidation. Besides this, Nero does not show any signs of performing magic when doing so, making it near impossible to work out the cause of the sudden effects, though he has a habit of giving it away by staring or doing something equally odd.
Techniques: 15/16 Wither - 5 Type: Attrition - Power Range: 20m Effect: If the target's Power stat is less than 50, they will begin to experience symptoms of atrophy. Muscular pain, stiffness and weakness in one's limbs will be similar to if the target has been inactive for a prolonged period of time. The discomfort can cause weapons/armours to feel quite heavy and tiring to use. Along with this, targets begin to suffer severe muscular cramps along up to three focal points to Nero's choosing. The pain felt from these is similar to an especially painful menstrual cramp, for reference. An individual would need an extraordinarily high pain threshold in order to remain battle-ready while under the influence of these effects. The cramps are sudden and can be followed by nausea and vomiting in weaker specimens, thus can cause panic in some. After a while, the cramps and other effects subside, leaving a throbbing sensation in affected areas. If the target leaves the effective range, the technique immediately ends. Duration: 2 Posts Cooldown: 4 Posts
Fail - 5 Type: Attrition - Accuracy Range: 20m Effect: If target's Accuracy stat is less than 50, they will feel an extraordinary dizziness and loss of balance. Merely standing will become an impressive feat. With their hand-eye coordination near enough shot, the target will soon after begin to feel their vision fade. While they do not become blind, their effective sight is cut in half and they suffer from temporary nearsightedness that corrective lenses would not be able to help with. With blurred vision similar to having water in one's eyes, many targets become panicked and frenzied. While there is no real 'pain' with this technique, it's applications are endless as Nero may freely choose targeting one's balance, hand-eye coordination or vision in particular, ignoring the other effects. When the effects fade, nothing remains, letting targets return to normal as if nothing happened. If the target leaves the effective range, the technique immediately ends. Duration: 2 Posts Cooldown: 5 Posts
Shatter - 5 Type: Attrition - Toughness Range: 20m Description: If target's Toughness stat is less than 30, they will begin to experience intense sickness. Similar to being infected by a deadly toxin, the target's body subconsciously releases a flood of useless countermeasures in an attempt to combat something that doesn't exist. This causes the body to experience the symptoms of poisoning, including thirst, muscular twitching and particularly severe fever of 110 degrees Fahrenheit, far more than any natural illness. Needless to say, cognitive processes go down the drain while under the influence of this technique as the mind gives way to emergency alarms to protect itself from the sickness. Targets will likely feel the need to vomit or rest, feeling incredible wear in their entire muscular structure. Profuse sweating, esophageal stricture (and by extension, inflammation) and hypotension are all likely in weaker targets. When the effects fade, targets are left pallid and sickly, requiring bed rest to treat. If the target leaves the effective range, the technique immediately ends. Duration: 2 Posts Cooldown: 4 Posts
Edited by Potato, Jan 19 2017, 01:40 AM.
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