Moore D. Redd
Jun 9, 2018 16:01:48 GMT -5
Post by Moore D. Redd on Jun 9, 2018 16:01:48 GMT -5
"Call me a 'Little Girl,' again, and I'll cut you in half."
Full Name: Redd, Moore D.
Alias/Nickname: N/A
Race: Human/Cyborg
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Faction: Pirates
Appearance:
Moore isn't what most would expect from a former Captain of an Order of Knights. Standing at a little over five feet, she hardly strikes the regular opponent as a particularly imposing enemy. In fact, there are most who would overlook her a regular lady. To mistake her as such would be one's downfall, as anyone with a keen eye could tell, she is an individual who holds herself with an absurd amount of authority and poise. Having rarely ever seen to be slouching, Moore's posture and conduct is one that resembles a figure of authority, one so much, that many unaware citizens may even find themselves caught off guard.
With striking blonde hair, held together in a messy ponytail, her hair is carefully braided along the side of her head. Despite this, an ample amount of her hair is left in a framing fringe. Her face ends in a narrow, sharp chin, her face constantly displaying her emotions with absolute disregard for subtlety. With large, expressive Veridian eyes, it would be difficult for one who has known for any length of time to not discern what it is Moore is feeling.
As for her physique, Moore bears a well-toned body, her muscles are all honed and ready for combat, as the knight constantly performs a daily routine. Along her shoulder blades, there are the outlines of surgery, thin scars etching out each plate from her cybernetic surgery. These are the few markings that indicate her non-human body, which she makes sure to scold anyone for bringing to light. Despite that, she lacks any noteworthy scars, believing them to be a mark of cowardice if any. Regarding tattoos, she bears a single one, of the roman numerals for Thirteen along the small of her back, hidden from regular view, in memory of her former Division.
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Veridian
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 92lbs
Personality: To be just is to be strong, therefore, the strongest is the one who becomes justice. This statement is one that Moore abides by. Trained as a knight within the court of her king, Moore was one of the youngest knights to inherit the title of a Captain of an Order of Knights; squads trained to defend the crown and people. Believing in strength, especially her own, she was able to garner the attention and respect of a group of thugs behind her, forming the thirteenth squadron. As the leader of a pack of brutes, she became an icon for the weak and meek, being able to flag them towards her banner and guide them behind her unwieldy strength.
Matching her brutalistic ideology and powerful leadership was her explosive personality. Demonstrating all of her emotions in one go, she was someone that everyone could rely on, to be honest, whether it be a kind honesty, or that of a cold, unfiltered truth. Believing herself to be just, unaware of any kind of damage she may do, she carried herself with the authority that those around her granted to her, alongside, an attitude that demanded the respect that she had fought and thought she deserved.
Moore, outside of her antagonistic attitude, is one that fights for her own beliefs. Those that fall behind her are her own charges, by her own admission. On the opposite end of the spectrum, she treats anyone who dares challenge her to her absolute fullest, never sparing a single idiom of mercy for them until they admit their own defeat. Leaving mercy until the very end is a facet of the knight's code that she follows, believing herself to be a key figure in the knighthood, despite her young age and gender.
As mentioned, she possesses an explosive personality, being one to fly off the handle towards anyone who dares to insult her, or who she perceives to be slighting her in any way. She is particularly touchy about her height, gender and fact that she possesses parts of an automaton, believing that having her body switched out for a machine to be an insult to the purity of her soul and code of honour.
As a side note, she has a comically massive appetite, and a certain penchant for paying attention to cute animals, finding that her heart melts uncharacteristically at the sight of any kind of adorable critter that scurries past her and refuses to allow any harm to befall them.
Likes: Moore enjoys a plenty of number things, amongst them being the feeling of hard work and her aspiration coming to fruition. Hard work, in this case, being her workout regiment or her stuffing her face with a cornucopia's worth of food and drink. She also enjoys the blood rush of a battle, the feeling of one's weapon clashing against another's through their very own strength. As a knight, she once served a great many people, along with her own king, so the feeling of being thanked for any kind of task is one that she longs to feel once again, often citing that being thanked for her work is something to be cherished and enjoyed.
Dislikes: Rage consumes her to the point that she should be checked clinically. Any kind of slight or insult could send the lady into a fit of rage and anger, the Knight being one to draw her sword at anyone who dares challenge her. Particularly, she finds herself at a certain bout of rage towards those who comment on her notably short stature, which she feels should be irrelevant, but is a factor that she has sent many a many of her Order ot the hospital for. Secondly is her gender, anyone who makes a mention of her being a "girl" or a "little girl," will find themselves on the business end of whatever weapon is closest to her. Thirdly and finally, is her mechanical components. Having been against the procedure in the first place, Moore despises her mechanical armaments and will strike anyone who comments on their presence.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (Her allegiance is to herself, and does what she wishes when she wishes)
History: Born on the island of Camalonia, Moore was one of the loudest, most troublesome children to have been born on the island. A natural born fighter, there was a scant a figure on the island to not have heard of the young child that had created a gang of her own that was made up on the largest children surrounding her. Many considered her to be a bully, but the island itself was known for its legion of knights, spanning a total of twelve Orders of Knights, each one pertaining to a certain number of members, from no more than four to a whole army's worth. From an incredibly young age, Moore was requested to join the knight academy, in order to hone her skills to ones that would one day become a prominent and powerful resource for the island, and more importantly, the island's King.
Despite her incredibly young age, her progress within the training camp was one that broke many records, bringing with it the attention fo many knights and the attention of the Captains or the Knightly Orders. Once she had reached the age of Fifteen, she had begun receiving a request from each individual Order, but she refused to join any, believing them to be beneath her, figuring that she alone was fit to rule over her own Order. Conscripting the thugs and hoodlums of the Island, she swiftly reformed them under her iron rule into her own band of troublesome, yet powerful, brand of Knights. The King himself dubbing the troupe as the thirteenth division.
Moore commanded these knights as one fo the first few lines of defense against any incoming pirates, the death of the previous Pirate King bringing with him a horde of troublesome pests that she and her Division reveled in dispelling. Often she'd end up in quarrels and duels with other Captains of the Knightly Orders, which tended to be dispersed by the royal physician and self-entitled "mage" of the island. A scientist and inventor, whom Moore had no verbal restraint against. Truly, she believed this man to be the bane of her existence, but he stood int he good graces of the king, so there was no path she could take in order to free herself from the burden of his hindering words. That was, of course, until calamity struck the island.
One day, a large fleet of Pirates invaded the island from all borders, flooding the land with looters and pillagers, all intent on laying mindless siege on the island in order to proceed their own gains. Moore, along with her fellow Captains, all rose against the offenders, their weapons drawing the blood o their enemies as their kingdom basked in the flames of war and onslaught. Moore, caught in a fierce battle with one of these Pirates, a Captain whose name she had never received, was dealt a mortal blow, both of her arms lopped to the side. Crippled and without aid, she was left to die along the ash-covered grasslands of her home. For a knight, to be slain in battle such a way was a noble one, as she had fought to the very bitter end.
Her death would not come, as the same court wizard, that she had scorned for years and years, had found her amidst the blood. Proclaiming the king to be dead, he wished to help any and all that he could, applying his mechanical knowledge to the fallen Moore and reviving her. This action, as kind as it may have seemed, was considered to be a grave insult to the knight's honour, and one that she wouldn't ignore. Brought back, with little to no memory of how the battle ended, only that her nation had lost, and a number of the Captains had taken to the seas in search of these enemy forces, Moore vowed to avenge her king and fallen people, and find the man who stole her chance at a glorious noble death and take her revenge.
Face Claim: Saber of Red (Fate Series)
RP Sample: Bloodshot eyes snapped open, taking in everything around them, despite the stabbing pain that emanated with each action they took. Moore took in a ragged, painful breath, attempting to sit up, but found that her body was too stiff and far too heavy. What had happened to her? The last moment that flashed in her mind was the sight of her opponent, the large, barrel-chested man, whose chest held a tattoo of a sunrise, standing before her, thanking her for the glorious battle atop the ash-strewn hills of Camalonia. A number of hoarse, ragged breaths filled the spacious room she had been left in.
Had someone carried her here?
Moore, once again, attempted to sit up but found an uncertain weight pin her arms down. Her brows furrowed as she cursed herself. This was no time for a Knight of Camalonia to find themselves incapacitated. Not whilst the enemy was still in their midst. With an angry growl, the blonde-haired woman forced herself up, a sharp pain stabbing from her tensed abs, a pain which she grabbed a hold of and focused on. Through this sharp concentration, she found herself sitting upright. Gritting her teeth, she snarled at both of her arms, anyone outside could have mistaken the knight for a feral beast.
Looking over to her arms, she noticed how loosely they hung. focusing on them, they moved for a moment before falling again, an odd, electrical sensation creeping along her shoulders. It was then that Moore's eyes snapped open, not in focus, but in a shocked expression. The last time she had seen her arms were along the ground with her sword.
"How...?" she attempted to question their return to her body, but her lips were far too dry and her voice too hoarse.
It was then that she noticed the dark haired man at the end of the room. The room itself was a part of a barn, but the man standing at the end was no farmer. The scientist waved his hand towards Moore, who silently sat, staring at him. Despite the lack of sound, her features tightened and sharpened, a wave of anger and bloodlust emanating from her body. She could tell from where she sat that the man had a number of grey streaks through his head, no doubt from the stress of living by the side of the king.
"You? What did you so, you shitty bookworm?!" she snarled, throwing herself forwards with an unexpected amount of force. Attempting to keep her footing, she fell to one knee, the sudden weight of her mechanical arms dragging her down.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir Redd. This was all I could do to save your life, the enemy was too strong... And we needed you... The King... He's...." the man stammered before stopping. Despite how shaken he was by Moore, his tone didn't indicate to him being threatened by her, instead, he seemed upset by the message he was attempting to convey.
"No..." Moore whispered, her one leg wobbling as she tried to process what the man was trying to say. With a soft, sad sigh, the man rose and took to the door.
"I'll avenge our King, Moore. Please, try and live a life worth living," he stated, before turning his back to her and leaving through the front barn door.
Moore's lower lip trembled, not in sadness but in sheer, berserk rage. "Get back here!" she screamed. "I swear on my name, that I'll be the one to avenge the King. To avenge our home! To avenge my honour!"
Her howls filled the barn and the adjacent, blood-soaked hills of Camalonia. The death-filled islands were filled with the singular howls of the fallen knight, who now cursed the world for her failings as a knight and a leader. The heavens themselves acknowledged this charge by raining down on the land, the tear of raindrops challenging the oath of the Knight.
Alias/Nickname: N/A
Race: Human/Cyborg
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Faction: Pirates
Appearance:
Moore isn't what most would expect from a former Captain of an Order of Knights. Standing at a little over five feet, she hardly strikes the regular opponent as a particularly imposing enemy. In fact, there are most who would overlook her a regular lady. To mistake her as such would be one's downfall, as anyone with a keen eye could tell, she is an individual who holds herself with an absurd amount of authority and poise. Having rarely ever seen to be slouching, Moore's posture and conduct is one that resembles a figure of authority, one so much, that many unaware citizens may even find themselves caught off guard.
With striking blonde hair, held together in a messy ponytail, her hair is carefully braided along the side of her head. Despite this, an ample amount of her hair is left in a framing fringe. Her face ends in a narrow, sharp chin, her face constantly displaying her emotions with absolute disregard for subtlety. With large, expressive Veridian eyes, it would be difficult for one who has known for any length of time to not discern what it is Moore is feeling.
As for her physique, Moore bears a well-toned body, her muscles are all honed and ready for combat, as the knight constantly performs a daily routine. Along her shoulder blades, there are the outlines of surgery, thin scars etching out each plate from her cybernetic surgery. These are the few markings that indicate her non-human body, which she makes sure to scold anyone for bringing to light. Despite that, she lacks any noteworthy scars, believing them to be a mark of cowardice if any. Regarding tattoos, she bears a single one, of the roman numerals for Thirteen along the small of her back, hidden from regular view, in memory of her former Division.
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Veridian
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 92lbs
Personality: To be just is to be strong, therefore, the strongest is the one who becomes justice. This statement is one that Moore abides by. Trained as a knight within the court of her king, Moore was one of the youngest knights to inherit the title of a Captain of an Order of Knights; squads trained to defend the crown and people. Believing in strength, especially her own, she was able to garner the attention and respect of a group of thugs behind her, forming the thirteenth squadron. As the leader of a pack of brutes, she became an icon for the weak and meek, being able to flag them towards her banner and guide them behind her unwieldy strength.
Matching her brutalistic ideology and powerful leadership was her explosive personality. Demonstrating all of her emotions in one go, she was someone that everyone could rely on, to be honest, whether it be a kind honesty, or that of a cold, unfiltered truth. Believing herself to be just, unaware of any kind of damage she may do, she carried herself with the authority that those around her granted to her, alongside, an attitude that demanded the respect that she had fought and thought she deserved.
Moore, outside of her antagonistic attitude, is one that fights for her own beliefs. Those that fall behind her are her own charges, by her own admission. On the opposite end of the spectrum, she treats anyone who dares challenge her to her absolute fullest, never sparing a single idiom of mercy for them until they admit their own defeat. Leaving mercy until the very end is a facet of the knight's code that she follows, believing herself to be a key figure in the knighthood, despite her young age and gender.
As mentioned, she possesses an explosive personality, being one to fly off the handle towards anyone who dares to insult her, or who she perceives to be slighting her in any way. She is particularly touchy about her height, gender and fact that she possesses parts of an automaton, believing that having her body switched out for a machine to be an insult to the purity of her soul and code of honour.
As a side note, she has a comically massive appetite, and a certain penchant for paying attention to cute animals, finding that her heart melts uncharacteristically at the sight of any kind of adorable critter that scurries past her and refuses to allow any harm to befall them.
Likes: Moore enjoys a plenty of number things, amongst them being the feeling of hard work and her aspiration coming to fruition. Hard work, in this case, being her workout regiment or her stuffing her face with a cornucopia's worth of food and drink. She also enjoys the blood rush of a battle, the feeling of one's weapon clashing against another's through their very own strength. As a knight, she once served a great many people, along with her own king, so the feeling of being thanked for any kind of task is one that she longs to feel once again, often citing that being thanked for her work is something to be cherished and enjoyed.
Dislikes: Rage consumes her to the point that she should be checked clinically. Any kind of slight or insult could send the lady into a fit of rage and anger, the Knight being one to draw her sword at anyone who dares challenge her. Particularly, she finds herself at a certain bout of rage towards those who comment on her notably short stature, which she feels should be irrelevant, but is a factor that she has sent many a many of her Order ot the hospital for. Secondly is her gender, anyone who makes a mention of her being a "girl" or a "little girl," will find themselves on the business end of whatever weapon is closest to her. Thirdly and finally, is her mechanical components. Having been against the procedure in the first place, Moore despises her mechanical armaments and will strike anyone who comments on their presence.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (Her allegiance is to herself, and does what she wishes when she wishes)
History: Born on the island of Camalonia, Moore was one of the loudest, most troublesome children to have been born on the island. A natural born fighter, there was a scant a figure on the island to not have heard of the young child that had created a gang of her own that was made up on the largest children surrounding her. Many considered her to be a bully, but the island itself was known for its legion of knights, spanning a total of twelve Orders of Knights, each one pertaining to a certain number of members, from no more than four to a whole army's worth. From an incredibly young age, Moore was requested to join the knight academy, in order to hone her skills to ones that would one day become a prominent and powerful resource for the island, and more importantly, the island's King.
Despite her incredibly young age, her progress within the training camp was one that broke many records, bringing with it the attention fo many knights and the attention of the Captains or the Knightly Orders. Once she had reached the age of Fifteen, she had begun receiving a request from each individual Order, but she refused to join any, believing them to be beneath her, figuring that she alone was fit to rule over her own Order. Conscripting the thugs and hoodlums of the Island, she swiftly reformed them under her iron rule into her own band of troublesome, yet powerful, brand of Knights. The King himself dubbing the troupe as the thirteenth division.
Moore commanded these knights as one fo the first few lines of defense against any incoming pirates, the death of the previous Pirate King bringing with him a horde of troublesome pests that she and her Division reveled in dispelling. Often she'd end up in quarrels and duels with other Captains of the Knightly Orders, which tended to be dispersed by the royal physician and self-entitled "mage" of the island. A scientist and inventor, whom Moore had no verbal restraint against. Truly, she believed this man to be the bane of her existence, but he stood int he good graces of the king, so there was no path she could take in order to free herself from the burden of his hindering words. That was, of course, until calamity struck the island.
One day, a large fleet of Pirates invaded the island from all borders, flooding the land with looters and pillagers, all intent on laying mindless siege on the island in order to proceed their own gains. Moore, along with her fellow Captains, all rose against the offenders, their weapons drawing the blood o their enemies as their kingdom basked in the flames of war and onslaught. Moore, caught in a fierce battle with one of these Pirates, a Captain whose name she had never received, was dealt a mortal blow, both of her arms lopped to the side. Crippled and without aid, she was left to die along the ash-covered grasslands of her home. For a knight, to be slain in battle such a way was a noble one, as she had fought to the very bitter end.
Her death would not come, as the same court wizard, that she had scorned for years and years, had found her amidst the blood. Proclaiming the king to be dead, he wished to help any and all that he could, applying his mechanical knowledge to the fallen Moore and reviving her. This action, as kind as it may have seemed, was considered to be a grave insult to the knight's honour, and one that she wouldn't ignore. Brought back, with little to no memory of how the battle ended, only that her nation had lost, and a number of the Captains had taken to the seas in search of these enemy forces, Moore vowed to avenge her king and fallen people, and find the man who stole her chance at a glorious noble death and take her revenge.
Face Claim: Saber of Red (Fate Series)
RP Sample: Bloodshot eyes snapped open, taking in everything around them, despite the stabbing pain that emanated with each action they took. Moore took in a ragged, painful breath, attempting to sit up, but found that her body was too stiff and far too heavy. What had happened to her? The last moment that flashed in her mind was the sight of her opponent, the large, barrel-chested man, whose chest held a tattoo of a sunrise, standing before her, thanking her for the glorious battle atop the ash-strewn hills of Camalonia. A number of hoarse, ragged breaths filled the spacious room she had been left in.
Had someone carried her here?
Moore, once again, attempted to sit up but found an uncertain weight pin her arms down. Her brows furrowed as she cursed herself. This was no time for a Knight of Camalonia to find themselves incapacitated. Not whilst the enemy was still in their midst. With an angry growl, the blonde-haired woman forced herself up, a sharp pain stabbing from her tensed abs, a pain which she grabbed a hold of and focused on. Through this sharp concentration, she found herself sitting upright. Gritting her teeth, she snarled at both of her arms, anyone outside could have mistaken the knight for a feral beast.
Looking over to her arms, she noticed how loosely they hung. focusing on them, they moved for a moment before falling again, an odd, electrical sensation creeping along her shoulders. It was then that Moore's eyes snapped open, not in focus, but in a shocked expression. The last time she had seen her arms were along the ground with her sword.
"How...?" she attempted to question their return to her body, but her lips were far too dry and her voice too hoarse.
It was then that she noticed the dark haired man at the end of the room. The room itself was a part of a barn, but the man standing at the end was no farmer. The scientist waved his hand towards Moore, who silently sat, staring at him. Despite the lack of sound, her features tightened and sharpened, a wave of anger and bloodlust emanating from her body. She could tell from where she sat that the man had a number of grey streaks through his head, no doubt from the stress of living by the side of the king.
"You? What did you so, you shitty bookworm?!" she snarled, throwing herself forwards with an unexpected amount of force. Attempting to keep her footing, she fell to one knee, the sudden weight of her mechanical arms dragging her down.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir Redd. This was all I could do to save your life, the enemy was too strong... And we needed you... The King... He's...." the man stammered before stopping. Despite how shaken he was by Moore, his tone didn't indicate to him being threatened by her, instead, he seemed upset by the message he was attempting to convey.
"No..." Moore whispered, her one leg wobbling as she tried to process what the man was trying to say. With a soft, sad sigh, the man rose and took to the door.
"I'll avenge our King, Moore. Please, try and live a life worth living," he stated, before turning his back to her and leaving through the front barn door.
Moore's lower lip trembled, not in sadness but in sheer, berserk rage. "Get back here!" she screamed. "I swear on my name, that I'll be the one to avenge the King. To avenge our home! To avenge my honour!"
Her howls filled the barn and the adjacent, blood-soaked hills of Camalonia. The death-filled islands were filled with the singular howls of the fallen knight, who now cursed the world for her failings as a knight and a leader. The heavens themselves acknowledged this charge by raining down on the land, the tear of raindrops challenging the oath of the Knight.
