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Bleach Platinum Hearts RP
Welcome to Bleach Platinum Hearts RP! This is a Bleach Role Playing Forum set in the year 2416, over 400 years away from the Original Bleach's timeline. It has elements of both canon and custom for a unique mixture of role playing never seen before on Bleach. To get started, please sign up and read our starter guide:

https://www.platinumhearts.net/t13634-bleach-platinum-hearts-starter-s-guide

And again, welcome to our Bleach RP.
Bleach Platinum Hearts RP
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Wed Oct 27, 2021 3:07 pm
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INFORMATION DOSSIER

Basic Information

○ Name: Freyja Solheim
○ Alias': Azure Guardian
○ Age: ...
○ Birthday: ...
○ Gender: Female
○ Race: Quincy.

○ Affiliation:
Vandenreich

○ Alignment: Lawful Neutral
○ Marital Status: Single
○ Nationality: German
○ Religious Standing: Agnostic
○ Sexual Orientation: ???

○ Height: 4"11
○ Weight: ...
○ Hair Colour: Blonde
○ Eye Colour: Blue


Freyja Solheim(WIP) Appearance-quincy

Psychological Analysis

» Impassive: To those who observe Freyja, they would easily be able to discern that she is a woman who is emotionally restrained and struggles with the concept of desire - that is, the unique passions or ideals that form in one’s heart. There is no proper illustration for who she is as a person and when posed with such a question, Freyja has never given anyone a definitive answer.

Outside of the path she has chosen for herself, there is no particular purpose or cause that sets Freyja’s heart ablaze; she does what is merely asked of her and nothing else. She is a woman with her eyes always looking forward.

To be certain, she does possess a sense of “self'' to a certain degree - enough to engage in a conversation, to forge bonds, and socialize on some base level with those around her. When you approach her, she is demure, well-mannered, and dignified beyond her years. Possessing all the skills and attributes of a noblewoman, one would easily miss how hollow her graceful etiquette can come across.

On the other hand, she does possess the capability of showing genuine admiration and respect to those who have befriended her or earned her favor. Even so, such a relationship may be awkward at first, Freyja has trouble picking up on social cues and understanding the pronounced nuances of humor.

The less perceptive ones will overlook these flaws; the observant and inquisitive will easily perceive how dispassionate her emotions come across. This is neither a form of constraint or posturing to maintain an image in the public eye. She has a grasp of how the emotions of others work but rarely focuses on her own.

Freyja always approaches her path with a sort of tunnel vision that forces her own needs to take a secondary role to everything else. Operating within the mindset of a leisurely individual who believes in enjoying the finer things in life is beyond her station - an inconceivable notion.

» Pragmatic: To call Freyja a woman who operates entirely on logic would be an understatement. When you assign her to a task, no matter how vigorous or benign the difficulty, she will complete it without a single complaint, with optimal effort. Unless the task or order is truly foolish and counterintuitive to the mission, Freyja will never question or go against an established order or rule. It is simply a function her mind does not possess.

This precise manner of conduct further strengthens the image of Freyja as a so-called “robot”. She has been jokingly referred to as an android on numerous occasions because of it.

Everything from her speech pattern to the way she dresses, to her morning preparations, are all carried out with cold precision. In other words, it wouldn’t be rude to compare Freyja to an efficient machine whose every cog operates on the principles of methodical professionalism.

Freyja does not consciously seek out the joys or pleasures of the world - to be certain, she has rarely enjoyed them. Some may consider her logic-based way of life to be insufferably dull, lacking any form of color. Even so, her pragmatic nature can often prove to be a benefit to those who need a mission completed without distraction.

» Purpose: At the core of Freyja’s personality, it can be said that she has no true aim in life beyond what she herself has decreed - therefore, her mind is set(almost as if it’s programmed) to always act in the way she views as most favorable to any situation. She cannot always properly discern right from wrong or make decisions based on her emotions. Freyja is overly analytical and can often act on the logical choice versus an emotional one.

The thought of showing mercy to an enemy might not even cross her mind. If they are viewed as a threat, Freyja will kill them without batting an eye, as a means of eliminating someone she views as a potential issue that may haunt her peers in the future. On her own, she is not above cleaning up loose ends if she believes that those who oppose her or the people she works under are individuals that cannot be allowed to live. A warrior should be merciful when the situation calls for it but acting out of some foolish notion of forgiveness is something Freyja simply will not accept. If the enemy strikes first with the aim to kill, she must respond in kind.

In a sense, the battlefield is a foundation of her purpose - and yet…somewhere deep within her hollow soul, there is a flicker of compassion in her heart that still exists as a result of the lessons taught to her by her pupil. She is aware of its existence. Even so, she would not allow herself to reflect on that. She may be observant and analytical of others but anything concerning her own person is always an infinite wall of question marks. That glimmer that exists within her heart longs to burn for something, to long for a true purpose, and become something more than an efficient machine, more than a tool of the battlefield that operates on logic.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION


Spoiler:

Born as the only child between a gentle mother and charismatic father, Freyja’s life was a relatively peaceful one. She received excellent forms of education and training due to her parents' connections with other quincy outside of their family. There was no stone left unturned when it came to building their daughter into a fine woman. Both her mother and father lived relatively luxurious lives, building a great foundation in their respective careers.

Even so, they never allowed such a lifestyle to consume their minds with pride. They merely used their riches as a means to allow their daughter, Freyja, to live a life without worry. She was their pride and joy - and she never once showed them a sign of disrespect. She was the epitome of an obedient daughter.

As a child, Freyja seemed to gravitate towards training with them more than anything else. She never exhibited the normal childish behavior seen in most children which had always been a source of worry for her parents.

Such worries, however, were often mitigated by the love and affection she showed to her parents.To her peers, Freyja was never a sociable child which led to self-isolation from other children at an early age. She never truly grasped the purpose of an interaction or why other children craved it so relentlessly.

No matter how hard she tried, interacting with anyone outside of her parents was a difficult task. Even as a child, she often reflected on why she seemed so out of place with the groups of children she played with.

She had no particular desire to play with toys, no desire to develop a passing fancy for boys, to say nothing of caring about which friend she preferred the most. Freyja only seemed to gravitate towards training and adoring her parents.

Freyja never questioned her parents' teachings and embraced them - they are what filled her days with endless wonder. It was the only happiness she clinged to without feeling hollow about her own sense of “self” around anyone else.

That happiness had been compromised when Freyja returned home one day. Fate had dealt her a hand so cruel as to be wicked. One single day is what it took for her life to take a turn for the worse. Freyja was excited to celebrate her birthday and how much her abilities had blossomed. She was a teenager, one more step away from reaching adulthood. Freyja had offered to prepare a meal for her family and the maids and butlers who served them.

Deciding to go alone, she ventured out that day and brought as many groceries as she could carry. When she reached the doorstep, the young quincy’s eyes were met with a pools of blood. For the first time in her life, her expression had twisted into one of panic as she burst through the door, only to behold a gruesome sight of bodies littered over the floor. These were the bodies of the maids and servants who had shown nothing but their absolute loyalty to Freyja’s parents. Though their deaths weighed heavy on her heart, there was a more pressing matter on the girl’s mind. Were her parents still alive? Had the servants and maids successfully protected them?

Yes! There was still hope! Clinging to that foolish fantasy, Freyja stepped through the bodies as her shoes were soaked in blood. One step. It only took one step to reach the top of the stairway and see that her desperate wish was shattered to pieces, like so many shards of glass. For, as soon as she turned the corner, she was met with a sight that truly crushed her spirits. Her father laid motionlessly on the ground while her mother was clinging to whatever semblance of life she could hold onto. Her body was fatally damaged, to a point where the notion of healing her wounds was a wishful afterthought.

At best, she only had a few moments to live. Extending one last gaze towards her deceased father, she passed by his body, hurriedly pulling her mother into her arms, praying that she’d be able to remain in this world.

...She prayed for a miracle that would never come to pass. The revelation of death was a pill far too bitter to swallow.

Her mother had always said that life was fleeting, and that every moment should be cherished and every memory remembered and imprinted upon one’s soul… and yet her last memory of her mother would be watching her die while she was unable to prevent the impending result. The gentlewoman gazed into Freyja’s tear-stained eyes.

Placing her bloodied fingers against her daughter’s face, she smiled... and with her final words, she told Freyja to…

“Live on...”

With that, the lovely eyes that filled Freyja’s heart with joy had closed for the final time as her body drew its final breath. At that moment, Freyja felt as if all that comprised her had died along with her parents. To her, this was a nightmare. A nightmare from which she longed to break free. Her parents or the maids would wake her up and she’d talk about the harrowing tale, relaying how frightened she was about the whole ordeal. Freyja’s body fell backwards as she lost consciousness…

Please, let it be a nightmare...


Waking up a few hours later, she found herself within a decorated room full of fascinating antiques. It was a room that almost reminded her of her own home and how her parents adored world history and the many anachronistic relics that were lost to father time but still maintained enough value to be viewed in museums. Rising up from an unfamiliar bed, pain quickly assaulted her head and caused her body to slump down, forcing her to analyze her surroundings.

Her mind could not help but dwell on the gruesome deaths of her parents and the men and women who served them. To keep her mind from shattering completely, she hoped that the harrowing images that assaulted her memories were nothing more than the remnants of a grotesque nightmare.

And yet… try as she might to convince herself otherwise, reality was not so kind, the gentle blessing of delusion remained elusive. Her parents had met their untimely end, leaving Freyja alone in this world. Even so, she stubbornly denied that reality, desperately clinging onto any remnant of hope she could grasp. It was all she could do to keep from crying herself into a state of exhaustion.

She made a minor attempt to rise up once more, forcing her body to stay upright. When she turned around to survey her surroundings, she noticed a man entering the room. Freyja made a feeble attempt at producing her spirit weapon, but the stress and shock only caused her to wince in pain as her body slumped forward. She couldn’t even raise her arms properly.

Was the stress of witnessing her parent’s death so much as to render her immobile? Who was this man approaching her? Multiple questions surfaced through her mind as her gaze followed his every movement.

Analyzing the man, the many wrinkles in his face seemed to indicate a man of old age, even though his strong build told a noticeably different tale. He sported a pair of silver spectacles that matched the gray beard covering his entire face. His hair was tied within a bow and his clothing was nothing short of professional, elegant even. One feature that seemed to draw Freyja’s attention the most was his gentle gaze. His eyes were breathtaking for a man of his stature.


An emerald pair of orbs that held nothing but the affection of a fatherly spirit within them - under that gaze, Freyja felt an unspeakable warmth that left her at a loss of words. Was this some sort of deception? He could be an enemy trying to manipulate her mind...Had she been captured? Her eyes regarded the room with suspicion.

As if noticing that she was still struggling to come to grips with her surroundings, the man stood by her bedside in a dignified posture and sighed as he cast his gaze towards the ground. With a husk but gentle voice, he finally decided to speak.


“Freyja Solheim... I’m relieved to know that my men were able to bring you to safety. I only wish we could have done the same for your parents. It’s somewhat shocking that this is our first meeting, considering how bright their expressions were when they spoke of what a wonderful girl you were. Well, I do recall seeing you when you were a baby--- but then, most wouldn’t consider that a proper meeting, would they?”

Freyja blinked, her face tinged with astonishment as the man revealed the nature of his relationship with her parents. Her parents had never told her about this man. In any case, hearing that information had caused Freyja's body to relax into the soft bed. He did not seem to possess any ill-intent. If he had, he could’ve easily struck her down before she even opened her eyes.

Still, a sullen frown formed on her face as she turned her gaze away from the man; he had confirmed the harsh reality that she desperately tried to deny. It was true. Her parents were dead; keeping herself in denial any longer would only invite prolonged sorrow. Even so, in the face of such a tragic revelation, she acted as if the news hadn’t phased her at all.


“Far be it from me to seem ungrateful, sir, but what was the purpose in bringing me back here alive? If you failed to rescue my parents, does that not make rescuing the life of their daughter meaningless?”

Cold and precise, Freyja spoke as if her life was truly of little value and no longer held meaning, as if the man standing before her should have chosen to leave her there to be murdered along with her parents.

The regal man sighed softly as he fixed his glasses, maintaining his gentle gaze he held from the start of their conversation.

“Haah, they weren’t lying when they said you were quite a serious customer. Even for a young woman, I find that frightening. Freyja… you speak so coldly, as if you deserved to be left there when your life was in peril. It was not my intent to let your parents die. Even now, their deaths weigh heavily on my heart. “

His emerald eyes glanced about the walls until he noticed the frame of a picture on a desk - a portrait of himself and her parents, her mother cradling a newborn Freyja with a bright smile. A somber expression formed on the man’s face as he walked towards the frame. He picked it up, sat down in the chair beside the desk and turned to Freyja.

“Your parents adored you. When your mother gave birth to you, she constantly talked about how special you were, and how great you would become. You were her precious Freyja - “her little goddess of love”, she would say.”

Gripping the frame tightly, a small tear fell from his eye. Noticing this from the corner of her eye, Freyja turned her attention towards that man as he tightly held that frame in his hands.

“She had always said that in the event that they lost their lives during battle facing a dangerous enemy that somehow managed to overpower them, that it would be my duty to protect you, to train you, and care for you as if you were my own. Therefore, Freyja Solheim, I don’t perceive your life as meaningless, nor do I find shame in my act of rescuing you from harm. Even if you hate me or blame me for failing to rescue them, it is my duty to protect you and teach you all that I know. To go against their wishes would tarnish the bond that I shared with these great people…!”

His tone was passionate, his voice genuine as he allowed his own emotion to show for the first time during the outset of their meeting. Freyja was speechless. Two words echoed in her mind as he finished.

“Live on.”


That’s right - those were her mother’s final heartfelt words to Freyja before her death. As if her emotions resonated with his own, she summoned all the strength she could muster and rose from the bed.

She walked towards the desk and wrapped her arms around him as she allowed herself to show genuine emotions to someone else for the first time in her entire life, tears flowing freely from her eyes. He was right. How could she be so foolish? To think of her life as inconsequential, to readily assume that she should die along with them…No, she had to live on, to find her purpose, and allow this man to love her just as her parents did. From that day onward, they had formed a timeless bond, a relationship forged of admiration and genuine gratitude.

In the days shortly after, the man had introduced himself as Norman Lowenthal. Much to Freyja’s surprise, he was a Quincy, too, albeit one of old age - though few would hardly believe it. Norman constantly maintained an excellent physical regimen that kept his body in superb shape.

Though the death of her parents still weighed heavily on both of their minds, allowing Norman into her heart turned her life around in a significant way. She took to his teachings as any prideful student would and excelled in every single lesson he taught her.

As time moved on, and Freyja blossomed into an adult, there was no doubt in Norman's mind that she was destined to achieve great things and become a legendary warrior worthy of the highest accolades.

She exceeded his expectations and truly resided in the realm of a true prodigy, a talent he was grateful for taking under his wing. Though he had not sired Freyja, her every achievement made his heart burn with the pride of a father.

Adulthood would welcome new revelations as Norman felt Freyja was ready to inherit Siegfried - a quincy heirloom that he had held onto for decades, passed down through generations, a weapon that belonged to the Armstrong family. He had claimed that an old friend - a member of the Armstrong family - had given it to him for safekeeping, to keep the weapon as a memento and symbol of their bond.

To make the event an unforgettable one within the depths of her memories, Norman planned on giving her the weapon on her birthday. Indeed, it would be a day filled with wonderful meals and festivities. He would bend down on one knee and hand the weapon to her as if she were a warrior whose kind knew no equal - like royalty being bequeathed with weapons of divine make, spoken of in the timeless lore and mythology of mankind...

His intentions to make this reality come true, however, were tragically compromised in the worst way he could have imagined. The Genocide of the Quincy - where the quincy race was nearly purged from the face of the planet, an event norman had suspected would happen but desperately prayed would never come to pass. He did not want his precious student involved within this madness.

He had to protect her at all costs. For the first time, the man who had always preferred to live his life in peace, the quincy who had escaped the battlefield, who never dared to look back on those he abandoned, would finally live up to a name he had discarded long ago. There was no use in running away from it anymore.

One day before Freyja’s birthday, those who wished to have Norman eliminated as a Quincy warrior who remained, finally launched their attack - his house was besieged by multiple enemies. Norman and Freyja were surrounded by countless warriors whose alignments were unknown, though he suspected it was likely Shinigami who had unfinished business and wished to eliminate him, considering his armstrong heritage. He had never respected them in the slightest for all that they had done to his race. Formerly a family of high esteem, their name had almost become a myth due to how many of them had died off or waged their lives on a ruthless battlefield.

Norman had run from the battlefield, bringing nothing but shame onto his soul. After all, it was the pride of most Armstrong men to meet a glorious end in a final bout of bravery. That ignominious stain on his soul had remained as an adamant noose around his pride. Whether by the hands of Shinigami or Hollow, Quincy were always being murdered off like their existence meant nothing to this world!

Norman despised that and as he manifested his quincy weapon, he turned to Freyja who was standing by his side as they witnessed their house being attacked. In his soul, he knew what his heart desired. He wasn’t going to run away this time. Even so, there was still one more goal that needed to be completed before the finale.

He grabbed Freyja by her arm, running towards the room that held one of his family’s most cherished heirlooms. Turning to face his student and the woman he cherished as his own child, he paused, letting out a somewhat exasperated sigh as he ruefully lamented how he was one just one day - a single day - away from giving her this precious gift, to allow someone whose heart rings with true bravery to wield this weapon in the way it was truly meant to be---on her birthday. One day. Oh, how he had wished he could’ve seen the smile and awe in her face. Perhaps it was his karma, he mused.

He supposed, even as death was approaching his doorstep, that to lament on such a fact any longer would have made him seem childish.

“Freyja, my most esteemed student - a young lady who always filled this old man’s soul with pride…I apologize for never letting you know my true identity. My name is not Norman Lowenthal. I had forged that identity to keep myself from ever being harmed since I knew what my true name represented. Alphonse Armstrong. Admittedly, this foolish old man forged his false name out of shame from running away while his people sacrificed their lives on the battlefield. To this day, my soul could never wash away the stain of regret.”

Alphonse gripped the blade tightly, his eyebrows furrowing into a mighty expression of resolution. He tore his shirt open to reveal his tightly-corded muscles as he stared towards the door. The enemy warriors were approaching.

“Fate is a cruel maiden - no matter how much we desire to enjoy the finest moments in our lives, somehow they all seem so fleeting in the grand scheme of things. The end comes before you know it, and you hardly see it coming. I don’t blame you if you think poorly of me for deceiving you for so long but just know that it was only to keep you protected, to live up to the vision of the man your parents admired when they chose me to be your caretaker.”

Freyja’s mind could hardly comprehend what was going on as Norman----no, Alphonse, revealed his identity and held the sword he had always spoken of fondly before her eyes. It was a large blade housed within a mystic sheath. Sigurd. Freyja’s eyes began to tear up as she shook her head. She didn’t want to receive the weapon this way. RIght now, she wanted to protect the man who had raised her as if he were her father.


“I don’t think poorly of you, Alphonse… but you can’t expect me to receive this weapon at a moment like this, not when I’m supposed to be protecting you. That is my duty to the one I look up to as a father! I don’t care about such a trivial fact. Surely, you had your reasons to keep your name a secret. As your student, it is my duty to protect you.”

Freyja had raised her hand to summon her own quincy weapon---until Alphonse shook his head and tapped her hand away, eliciting an expression of sheer disbelief from his student. Those frantic cerulean eyes were filled with nothing but questions that the old man could not provide answers for…

He lamented the fact that this was the last day he would ever stare into those eyes again. He didn’t wish to see them filled with agony of any kind. Heh, perhaps he really was a bastard of a man at the end, making such a wonderful girl cry.

Even so… he remained adamant on the matter of what he was going to do next. She would escape and he would die. That is all there was to it. He wasn’t going to go out without a goddamned fight, though.
He was going to live up to the Armstrong name.

“I know that you wish to protect me, Freya - and yet, I truly believe that this was always meant to be my destiny. I see no reason to fight it anymore. Please… don’t shed any tears for me - the last thing I’d want to know in my dying moments is that I caused the most precious student in the world to cry.”

He placed a hand against her face as he continued.

“I hear… that there is yet one more Armstrong who remains. My men looked into the matter and while I never got the chance to confirm it---if you find her, please protect her. If the rumors are true and one Armstrong truly roams this earth, then I am honored to know that my death or the deaths of my people were not in vain. I love you, Freyja Solheim. You were truly the best thing a man could ever have asked for in both a woman and a student…”


Without uttering another word to his student, Alphonse placed the heirloom within her hands, pushing her away as the enemies broke through the door of his basement. He faced them with fire in his eyes and a fierce passion raging in his heart.

“I’m tired of running away! For countless years… whether our lives were taken by hollows or shinigami… I always lived in fear of my own death but now, as I see death staring me in the face - my heart beats with joy!” He walked towards the enemies as Freyja was pulled away by his bodyguards.

Each was ready to sacrifice their life for the man who had provided them with a job and a purpose in life --- but they had to get Freyja as far away from the eventual battlefield as possible. Alphonse’s order was to make sure she escaped unharmed. Turning to face his enemies, he took off towards the first group of enemies as he fired a volley of arrows towards them.

“My people! The Glorious Armstrong! Forgive me for running away when you all needed me the most, but now I feel a true sense of pride in this name. I take pride in knowing that there may yet still be one of us who remains! Therefore, this death, this sacrifice… I take solace in knowing that it won’t be in vain!”

And with a flash of light that blinded Freyja’s eyes - whose face was stained with tears - witnessed even as her vision of him became distant, the final moments of Alphonse Armstrong. A heroic stand that would forever be etched onto her memories.

His majesty would never be forgotten. His last act had been imprinted in her memory forever. His words echoed throughout her soul. Therefore, to fulfill his dying wish, she would find the last Armstrong and protect that person with her life…


Ever since that day, she fused her own spirit weapon with Sigurd, refining her skills until the day she found the last Armstrong who roamed this earth. She trained and fought in countless battles, to assist other quincy and find clues to a mystery she knew could take years to unravel. Even so, if that journey lasts an eternity, it is all she has to hold onto.

It is her duty.


POWERS AND ABILITIES


» Strategist: First and foremost, Freyja never enters a battle without analyzing her enemy and the threat they possess. She hardly enters a battle with a sense of pride or some lofty goal of earning someone’s admiration and respect. For her, the intent of battle is to end the conflict before it grows, to strike at the source of the issue and subdue any threat that is made manifest. She will not rush into battle without determining whether or not the battle itself is even a winnable one.

Her analytical mind allows her to discern the nature of the battlefield and whether it is a favorable one. The battle is not something she takes lightly nor is it something she finds any pride in(so far). To her, strategy on the battlefield is the most efficient way of eliminating a threat on the battlefield. She is always observant of her enemy.

She is always reading the opponent, their movements, what technique they may favor, and how she can counter those techniques and achieve victory. Her impeccable awareness of her own fighting ability as well as her vollstandig makes Freyja a threat that can hardly be underestimated on the battlefield.

» Exemplary Reishi Manipulation: Training under both her parents as well as later studying under the tutelage of her deceased master, Freyja has achieved a level of mastery over manipulating and absorbing Reishi that is graceful to behold; no strike or slash of her weapon is ever created in haste and like a fine conductor manipulating the flow of his orchestra, Freyja utilizes Reishi as a flawless mean between offensive and defensive strategies that allow her to maintain a significant advantage against the enemy.

When it comes to absorbing and unleashing reishi, Freyja utilizes the entire battlefield to her advantage. Be it weaving small strings of reishi to impede the opponent’s movement or firing projectiles against the enemy from every conceivable direction, Freyja seeks out turning the momentum of the battle in her favor. She never needlessly collects Reishi without a unique strategy in mind.

If she must forge a defensive stand with the knowledge that she cannot overpower an enemy through an offensive assault, she can surround her body within a layer of shields(composed of reishi) in order to keep the enemy at a distance and counter quickly, without a single misstep to be found in her movement or execution.

» Hirenkyaku Prowess: s a result of her exceptional manipulation with reishi, it should come as no surprise that Freyja is equally masterful in utilizing Hirenkyaku. No use of reishi is one made in haste and the blessing of a light frame allows her to truly reap the benefits of the technique.

In every battle, Freyja always prefers layering her feet within reishi, continuously keeping herself within striking distance, to close the space between her and the enemy in a matter of seconds.

Each step utilized to hover and fly in the air allows her to swing her weapon and strike the opponent at unawares or overwhelming the with her repertoire of techniques.

In reality, Freyja utilizes her own natural speed and light steps along with her command over Hirenkyaku to fight at a pace that most opponents, familiar with quincy, would hardly expect. Combined with her reishi manipulation and the ability to form weapons and other constructs on the fly, Freyja can overwhelm her enemy through the sheer ingenuity of her techniques.


»Consummate Swordsmanship: Swordsmanship is second nature to the war maiden - it is a skill that, by now, is as natural as breathing to Freyja. Countless years have been dedicated to mastering her particular form and style of swordsmanship. Even though most would find it odd that a quincy prefers swordsmanship to ranged combat, Freyja has mastered her own unique brand of swordsmanship to such an extent, that bow and arrows would hinder, albeit being a woman who is altogether former with a quincy's bow.

Her slight frame would give off the impression that she could hardly overwhelm anyone, and those foolish enough to underestimate her based on size would find themselves cleaved in two long before they could register what happened.

Concerning her style of swordsmanship, there is no strict set of techniques, only principles and poise. No strike is one made in haste. Each swing of her blade and every arc created in its wake are all executed with a purpose.

To her, neutralizing the threat before it gets out of hand is the main tenet of her technique. Freyja does not aim for grace, only efficiency. Her ability to seamlessly attack, counter, parry, and defend makes Freyja a swordswoman who is overwhelmingly difficult to overcome; a relentless force in the form of an elegant maiden.


» Blut: As one who favors defense and offense in their repertoire, Freyja’s blut technique is nothing short of impeccable. Similar to her battle principles with other quincy techniques and her emphasis on the economy versus wastefulness, any offensive or defensive measure that is taken with Blut is always done with meticulous forethought. S

» Blut Vene: The defensive form of blut - bestowing the gift of inhuman durability. In Freyja’s hands, it is a technique that can turn the tide of an entire battle in her favor. When combined with her endurance and ingenuity, Freyja can withstand a significant amount of damage without flinching an eye.

» Blut Arterie: The offensive form of blunt that bestows the gift of offensive power - To one whose intent is to end the battle with a single strike, eliminating a threat entirely, Arterie is Freyja’s preferred form of Blut. Favoring her offense and gaining an advantage through executing the first strike successfully, Freyja enhances her offensive power with the thought of ending conflict before it can transition into chaos. Along with her swordsmanship, she can land swift, devastating blows that overwhelm the enemy with an infusion of might and precision. If the enemy loses sight of Freyja, the battle may well be over before it ever truly begins.

»Wand Aus Blut: A technique exclusive to Freyja, it is a unique manifestation of blut that revolves around the Vene concept. Whereas Blut Vene utilizes the body as its catalyst for the flow of reishi necessary to utilize it, Wand Aus Blut expands her blut vene into the physical world, formed around her body in the form of a large force field. This sizable field, when sustained with a significant source of Reishi, is capable of providing a powerful defense against the enemy.

In an area where Reishi is sufficient or in large quantities, the strength of the cube increases tremendously as it will feed off of that Reishi to maintain itself. In such cases, the wall can be erected and maintained for three posts and must go through a two-post cooldown before it can be formed again.


LIST OF EQUIPMENT

» Thing:

SPIRIT WEAPON

» Thing:

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SKILL SHEETS & INFORMATION

(To Find Out about what these skills are for, please READ THIS THREAD before you try doing anything to it. After you have read it, do not fill your skills out until a staff member has graded your thread. The staff member checking your app will also give you Will Skills in which you can add to your app when approved. Click the spoiler below to see what tier gets what kind of skills.)

Spoiler:
6-Tier: Allowed all beginners.
5-Tier: Allowed all beginners.
4-Tier: Allowed 1 Adept, 3 Beginner
3-Tier: Allowed 3 Adept, 1 Beginner
2-Tier: Allowed 2 Advanced, 2 Adept
1-Tier: Allowed 1 Elite, 2 Advanced, 1 Adept
0-5 Tier: Allowed 1 Elite, 3 Advanced

NOTE: There can be exceptions you can discuss with staff if the character's themes and masteries etc, are better suited to a different configuration. Let us know when after we approve your character if something along those lines is something you want for your character. e.g If your character isn't particularly quick but the force in their strikes are massive, so you could take a hit to their speed and drop it a level in exchange for raising your strength

General Skills
  • Durability: Blank
  • General Speed: Blank
  • Strength: Blank
  • Martial Skill: Blank


QuincySkills
  • Blut: Blank
  • Quincy Spellcraft: Blank
  • Reishi Manipulation: Blank
  • Spirit Weapon: Blank


Will Skills
  • Willpower/Determination: Blank
  • Mental Deduction: Blank
  • Focus: Blank


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