In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Nickname: Az, Az-Hole (By his closest friends), Alpha, and Sid in his ulterior disguise, which will be posted in the appropriate section.
Age: As of now, 17, but he looks a bit young. Could pass for a late 15 - early 16.
Gender: Male
Species: Cipher Unit. (Human.)
Position: Unlawful Good
Powers:
Dark Techs-
Receptor Slowdown- By using Darkness as a performance enhancer, Adrenaline is pumped at a faster and more efficient rate, allowing for a .75 increase in reaction time and thought, making him much more Tactical. While using this power, his Strength drops by .25 and his eyes glow a very luminescent purple. Only one Iris power can be active at once.
Lockdown- Azmot may touch an object or weapon and cover it in a block of Darkness, making it unbearably heavy to move/wield. This Darkness lasts about 3 (of my) posts, and may be dispelled with any spell that involves the Light Element. The Object is unaffected by anything that occurs, such as it's waterproof and airtight. Nothing get's in, nothing get's out, to a degree. If someone is stronger than Azmot, by a fair amount, then breaking this is not a problem, even with just a sword slice or a punch at a decent degree of power. He can lock down a full object as long as its 4 feet long and wide or less, or perhaps just a partial Lockdown within the perimeters.
Dwelling Eyes- This power is one of Azmot's iris powers, activating by infusing darkness within the cones of his eyes in different ways. This IP leaves Azmot colorblind, but also gives him an assortment of tactical advantages. When confronting someone, his eyes start relaying information differently. He is able to see in the dark, as well as heat signatures. Bye staring at someone for 3 seconds, or "scanning", he retrieves that person's Weight, exact height, hair color, etc. He can even read there Elemental properties. While active, Azmot's eyes glow Grey. He must stay at least 3 posts outside of this to avoid IP overload during the 10th post.
IP Overload- This is a weakness to the power "Dwelling Eyes", though it is listed a the power because it changes the nature of it. He can activate this at will, but the post minimum to take it off is increased by 3. After 10 (Of his) posts using Dwelling Eyes, The power switches to this. Azmot short range vision is retracted to 5 feet, and bright lights bother him extremely. Colors tend to blur together, making objects hard to define. The only actual advantage to this "Power" is that allows him to see extremely far away (40 feet) as long as he is not in conflict. As long as this power is in effect, his eyes vibrate with painful intensity, making it even harder to see. When overloaded, it lasts 8 posts. When willfully activated, it lasts 11, but the following side effects dull-
His eyes no longer vibrate, he can see 7 feet ahead in combat, and he can make out individual figures.
Pacifists Way- By disabling his powers for 5 of (His) posts, Azmot is able to use his Darkness to force his body to copy his Original DNA structure (His state of health at the beginning of the topic), healing him of all wounds after 15 posts (Of his). He cannot re-grow limbs with this, just mend holes or gashes. This means that he would have to rid himself of anything inside of him (Such as ammunition or indulged weapons) before healing is applicable. The Healing is overtime, minor wounds healing within the first 3 posts, decent sized wounds after 7, and the rest are closed & mended after the full 15. Damage during this state are not healed, and must be healed separately. After the initial 5 posts of using this skill, his powers are re-enabled.
Weapon: None
In previous training, A.Z.M.O.T has also been known to be skilled with a Scimitar, Katana, and firearms of the sort. He is currently working on expanding his arsenal.
Picture: N/A
Appearance: Azmot stands at 5'10, His broad shoulders above average for his 15 year old body. His arms are slightly muscled, covered up by minuscule body fat. His hands, though soft, are large, complementing the rest of his overly large body. His chest, though, is more slender, about 2.5 feet tall, and is covered by a little more body fat, though he is not obese. His legs are surprisingly un-stocky, a shock unlike the rest of him, and his thighs are well-muscled. That said, he isn't really fast but can run for a while without needing rest. His eyes are Greyish-blue, the tips of his bangs leaning in just on top of his Line-of-sight. His hair, long and thick, is usually in sweat because of his constant activity. His glasses are thick and wide rimmed, much like himself, and allow him to see far away. Though, without them, he should most likely be able to battle. A burn mark is barred on his right arm, not sensitive, but very noticeable, shaped much like a triangle.
His normal attire consists of a Nose and Mouth Cover, mainly because of his mild acne, but partly because he has a fear of people recognizing him. He has 3 different shirts/Jacket that bear the same symbol on them, one for each of the most common environments. White for Snow (Coat, obviously.), Tan for Barren ground or sand (Sleevless.), and green for thick or wild plant life. These shirts/jacket have a Lightning bolt etched onto them, all blending with the shirts colors. He never wears Jeans or "Tight pants", usually just shorts, sweatpants, Cargo Pants, Cold Pants, and Dress clothes. Although, he will be seen in shorts most of the time, unless the weather calls for something different, or if he is on a Hunt. His shoes are Black and simple, nothing special about them. On a Hunt, he will wear Grey gloves that have grips on them, useful for various purposes.
Personality:Azmot is rude and blatant, usually not showing any emotion except sarcastic humor. He enjoys toying with people and usually won't help anybody that doesn't deserve it. He likes battles, always diligent to engage foes. In battle he fights as if he's better than every one else, taunting opponents and insulting with vulgar comments. He rarely makes friends, but those he does are usually different, like him. Azmot will ignore you if you try to act snide, or an assault could be coming your way.. Always wanting power, he takes many risks to defeat his opponents. Now that he has the Hunger, Azmot is known to become more aggressive towards powerful opponents. If he feels he is overpowered, he will stubbornly not submit, fighting until his last breath.
Teaming up is not his favorite thing to do, liking to be solitary for his thoughts. Azmot fights to make it known of his power, sort of a Glory hound, so to speak. The taste for blood, though, is a strong sensation that he lavishes in, so it's not unknown for him to attack unknowing people. He is actually entwined in the Grapevine of news, maybe a bit of a gossip. He doesn't show it, though. Azmot's favorite activity to do is to pull a Con on someone, be it for free food or to take down a company, it's his hobby.
Original World: Unknown. Current World: Traverse Town.
History: Reports on _____ ________ are not found. Excavating back-up files from an Archived Database. Damaged reports retrieved. Playback initiated. Standby.
[Playback] The first reports of /A.Z.M.O.T Tekanisho/ are years after his birth, estimated at the age of 7. This was when he was selected to take part in Project Origin, run by his father Prof. Albert Tekanisho. This project was for young children who were different, more adept to the world of magic, to be trained a super soldiers. The main goal of Origin was to make a group of youths that could be used as the "trump" against the heartless, which, at that time, were unpredictable in power. The Organization is created from scientist all over the worlds, one from each and of a different specialty. They contributed and advanced research on how to manifest the Primal Elements and infuse children with the powers. The reason they had chosen children for the project is because of there innate ability to learn, attempting to use this as a catalyst to advance their training much faster. There were 6 children involved in Project Origin, each given different Cipher Codes to correspond to there position in the group. A.Z.M.O.T was second in Command, next to Z.E.R.O. Before they were given there abilities, they were trained for two years, becoming stronger, faster, and smarter than most individuals there age. This was to ensure that the skills they would inherit had a safe, strong host. Of course, due to calculations, the training was a complete success. They children were all around the age of ten, A couple a little older and a couple younger. They quickly made friends with each other, and shared a large space with separated beds for a room. The Children of Origin were given three meals a day, usually cold and bitter, yet indescribably healthy. It kept them alive, no matter how terrible it tasted. After the first couple weeks of hard training, the had become used to the military style life, and enjoyed there time with each other as if it were treasure. After the Two years had passed, many scientist believed that they were behind schedule on testing the safety protocols of the infusion process, but they pressed on regardless, due to deadlines.
On the date of [ERROR 404-Entry not found], The Children were separated from each-other and taken to a room, each with it's own individual Color and Cipher Lock, which could only be opened with the correct Cipher I.D. Azmot's room had blatant, purple walls that seemed to infect him with a sense of dread. The floors matched the eerie, spiteful color, as did the ceiling. The only thing that seemed not purple was his bed, a wooden set of doors (which appeared to be a closet), a mirror, and the White, windowed door. A small intercom was drilled into the ceiling of the room, almost as if it were unmovable in every fashion. In short, Azmot was very frightened, never away from his friends for as long as he could remember. His mind, though chronologically 12, had felt much more vulnerable than it should have. He sat on his bare, stiff mattress and rolled his hands through his hair, trying to understand what was going on. Azmot recalled all he had remembered and encountered throughout the bizarre day.
They had woken up quite early, prey-tell usual, and had a disgusting mixture of Carbonated Energy and Refined water. The instructor, which, today, was there battle adviser, told them some stirring speech that had been made to motivate them, but they merely giggled. Their instructors name was Sarge, a real hulk of a man. His head was practically bald and it seemed that he was always in his Red Heavy Battle Armor. Gloves and high shin guards covered up all concealed skin except for his face, head, and the very top of his neck. A light scar ran down his forehead, salvaging across the terrain of his nose and landing upon the crevice in the right corner of his nose. It made him seem a bit odd, because the line was almost straight, but not quiet right. It drove some of the kids CRAZY that they couldn't straighten it like they could a bow-tie or their friends hair. He had large, unnaturally pearly white teeth, which were almost always showing because of his constant backtalk to the other instructors.
During breakfast, Sarge let off one of his big, toothy smiles that he was famous for, and told them, "Men and Women, I am proud to say that you have been my pupils for my time here. I have enjoyed all of your dedication, hard work, and heart that you have put in to this course. I must say, in all my years of fighting, you are probably some of the whiniest soldiers I've ever met, but nonetheless. I am proud of you." He sat unprecedentedly and almost fell back in his chair, which caused laughter to erupt throughout the silver room they called "The Diner." Sarge had always been goofy, and a bit of a father figure to them. Then, Sarge's smile suddenly went solemn, and he slammed his goblet down on the table. The laughter left, leaving only silence. Shadow covered their instructor's eyes, which was odd because the room was well lit. He spoke gruffly now, as if he had been putting on a facade until just then. "That being said, this is our last day together, so GROW UP! I want you to be prepared for the harsh world your going to enter, but I can't trust you do unless you stop your sniveling and giggling and act like adults!" He spoke loudly, the medium sized room echoing it clearly, to clearly for comfort. "I-...I'm sorry." he studdered , regaining his composure after looking to see the looks of shock and anguish. "I mean... I cannot protect you guys anymore. Our time together is now at it's end. They believe you are ready to fight, but I'm not so sure. I-" Sarge's speech was interrupted by the loud, teeth mashing beep that indicated the end of the breakfast break. Without saying a word, the instructor stood up and opened the door, allowing the kids to leave. Waiting for them was their Magic instructor, Lily.
She was tall, probably 5 ft 10, and ridiculously skinny. Her Alpha Blonde hair was always in a neat bow and seemed perfect no matter what she did. Once, a stray Aeroga spell caught her off guard, almost ripping her to shreds. If she hadn't been able to absorb magic, she would have been dead. Cuts, scratches, tears, and loose fabric was apparent all over the articles of clothing except for one, tiny part of her body. That picture perfect hair was in a neat, little bow, shocking most students in awe. Under her slim, black eyebrows stood a pair of horn rimmed glasses that glistened chrome, seemingly more reflective than anything anyone had ever seen. Once, she caught one of the Children slacking off in Spell Economics, so she aimed her glasses at him, the sides reflecting light onto his Mage Robe perfectly. Within seconds, the fire had spread all the way across his arm as he flailed it hastily. Lily simply snapped her fingers and Poof!, it was gone. Her dress, prey-tell usual, was grey and bleak, almost faded stripes running lateral along the material. It went about to her knees, which exposed bare skin until you reached her ankles, were she wore sandals of the most wide variety. Today, they were black, leather sandals that strapped around each individual toe, making it firm yet comfortable. Without a smile on her fact, she turned to lead them toward their next event.
The Children walked along one of the nameless halls as there picture perfect instructor, who seemed slightly dismayed, turned to face them. She appeared to have actually crows feet, which meant she had forgotten to put her make-up on in the morning. This never sat quietly. "Children." she said, looking around the room, avoiding the Subjects' gazes.
"Today, we are to have a little competition to see who will be your real world leader, when your squad is ready for deployment. I know that you have accepted Zulu as your leader, but the Director himself insists that one of you may be better fit for this role. If you believe that you can fulfill this duty with the highest aptitude, then step forward."
Almost immediately, Azmot and Zero stepped forward, staring at each other shortly afterwords in response.
"If that is all," Lily started, twisting a button on her dress ", then save them. Or else, you fail."
And with that, the floor collapsed around them, separating Zero and Azmot from their team. The lights flickered as the tiles seemed to fall in an endless abyss, making the room darker by the minute. Zero, surprising Azmot, sent a high kick into his right temple, efficiently knocking him out. The last words he had heard were
"This is my job, Alpha. I can handle this."
When Azmot had awoken a time later, the floor seemed back to normal, but everyone was gone. In fact, he seemed to be in a completely different section of the building. He stood, staggering as he tried to re-collect his thoughts. Azmot could faintly remember being moved, but he was sure by whom or to were. As he looked ahead, Azmot noticed that the hallway was a dead end, an unusual factor in the Facility. During his exploration of the building, no matter how deep he went, he always recalled being able to connect hallways to one another. So why was this one cut off? As he pondered this, a slight vibration was felt in the direction behind Azmot, very familiar. It was like an explosion, but it was so quiet. This befuddled Azmot, but did not stop his investigation. Turning behind him, he searched for the source of the vibration, only to find a large, red door. Azmot had not seen the color but a few times during his stay at the facility, the only thing that was red were the scratches from training. Another vibration. He was about 10 feet away from the door, so figuring it was his only way out, started to walk towards it. Another vibration, this one incorporated some sound, a screech of sorts. 5 feet away. Another Vibration, this one clearly felt. The screech turned into a voice, something calling him to move closer. As his hand touched the handle, his whole head was screaming for him to enter, the vibration now rhythmic and clear. It was coming from his head.
Turning the knob after little to no thought, Azmot invaded the cubed room, white walls surrounding him. Almost symmetrically, Zero busted through on the opposite side of the room in a blue door. Zulu stared coldly at Azmot, while a nasty notion involving a finger was return his way. Zero snared, speaking in a way that annoyed Azmot to no end.
"Codename A.Z.M.O.T, stand down. This is your CO speaking, and you WILL comply. Otherwise, tactical measures will be taken."
"Zero," Azmot started, slowly starting to register other objects in the room. Weapons were littered across the floor like a battle field, varying from close to long range. A crossbow caught his ee, but he would save it for later. ",you know as well as I do that the order you just gave is nullified due to recent events. I will be forced to retaliate if you insist." Azmot responded, attempting to hide his anger.
"Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. So naive. Do you really think you can beat me? Besides, you don't even have your abilities activated." Zero said, the gravity around him seeming to change, almost bend.
"Abilities? What are you babbling about, you idiot?" Azmot responded, noticing the change in Zero's atmosphere.
"Do you think that a bit of training gives you what it takes to be an agent, to fight the unkown? No. It doesn't. The scientist's have created devices for us Ciphers, each unlocking abilities we shouldn't be able to. Like... this." Zulu responded, pausing to bring out 6 rings, each a different color. He slid the white one on his left middle finger, and Azmot watched in horror as he disappeared altogether.
"What the-" Azmot said, a sharp punch to the jaw interrupting him while he was confused. Zero's voice could be heard, but his talking was muzzled and undecipherable. Becoming visible once again, he began to speak.
"Azmot, there's no way to beat me without your power, so give up!" Zero laughed, holding up a dark Amethyst ring.
"Why do you have mine, then? And the others?" he responded, causing Zero to blend out once again. He got into a fighting stance, but it was no help when 3 consecutive kicks landed on his gut, bringing him to one knee. The white jumpsuit appeared again, and Zulu's face along with it.
"That, my old friend, was easy. Do you think we were supposed to have our powers before this little test? Of course not! So, after I knocked you out... well, let's say I went on a detour." Zulu didn't even allow the last words to escape his lips before becoming invisible once again.
"Why are we fighting, Zero? Isn't our goal to save the others? I thought-" Azmot said, interrupted by a sharp pain on his forehead. Blood trickled down his left eye, making it hard to see.
Becoming visible in front of him, Zero appeared with his guard lowered and his hands down. "There is no saving to be done, Azmot. I was to late. By the time I found them, they were dead. Even Orion. I'm sorry, I just couldn't save her. But I can redeem myself to the Director, If I can just win harder."
Ignoring his injuries, Azmot stood, slightly faltering due to lack of balance. "How did she die, Zulu. I need to know." He said, looking intently at his clearly psychotic friend.
"Bullets. Lots of them. They all did. That's why I must win. I can't die!" Zero yelled, placing 4 more rings on his fingers. He had all but the Purple ring on his right hand, and power surged through him. Tossing the purple ring at Azmot, laughing as if to mock him, Zero disappeared. Slipping it on his finger during a desperate moment, Azmot felt a sharp pinch throughout his veins, his eyes shaking inside his skull. This was what was calling him before, that he was sure. This was a part of his story, his destiny. As the pain subsided, a voice echoed throughout his head. "Hello, Codename A.Z.M.O.T, I am the Dark Matrix AI, but you can call me Da MAI." It spoke in a sharp African American voice, the accent obviously Jamaican. I am an installed program to assist you in multiple scenarios, man. Right now you are fightin' Cipher Unit Alpha, who has the ability to bend gravity and time. Real scary stuff, if you think about it. Anyways, he has the otha' rings on his fingers, and the results of this are unknown. It could either give hi supa power, or he could go crazy. Either way, this will probably not end well.
As the information played through his head, Azmot halfway noticed the disappearance of a sword not 8 feet away. It sort of... blinked out, as if being cloaked.
"Uh, DaMAI, is their any way I can, you know, TRACK this invisible person?" Azmot spoke aloud, calculating that it would be seconds before he was split into bloody chunks.
Of course Codename A.Z.M.O.T, activating level one Isis power now. Standby for Operation Dwelling Eyes.
Before Azmot could react, the lights started to dim in the room, colors slowly slipping away from him. Starting from the edge of his vision, grey shades replaced the item's around him, leaving him to imagine what they would look like with their inherit beauty, what is known as "color". Slowly but surely, the almost infection completely blinded his spectral vision, his entire world now. literally, black and white. Before he could even think an insult to DaMAI, though, A red blur scratched through Azmot's vision. It came at him at rapid speeds, appearing to hold something invisible in it's hands. 5... no, 4... now 3 feet away, Zero let loose a hearty slash, only to be shocked when Azmot avoided it altogether. A loud clang was heard as the metal screeched against the floor, which was padded with steel and that alone. Azmot lunged at Zero, whom could not pick up the broadsword in time to defend. A sharp jab to the throat was instilled upon Zero, causing a reflexory gag. Falling backwards, Zero let the sword fall, allowing it to become visible to Azmot's regular senses. Zulu, too, became visible as he hi the ground, Azmot not wasting any time to reach him. Before he could say a witty comment, Zero stood. Rather quickly, in a sort of floating motion. Because he FLEW upwards. The green ring glowed prominently on his finger. Green must have been air. Suddenly, Azmot missed Orion very much.
Increasing his altitude 7 feet, Zero was still a ways below the ceiling, the other rings slowly lighting up on his hands. "You have one chance, Azmot. Step down, or die." Zulu retorted, planning something disastrous with the rings.
Silence filled the room with an enormous amount of pressure. Against his better military judgement to step down, Azmot stood his ground, raising his middle finger towards Zero. DaMAI, Azmot thought, asking the AI a question mentally , what is he doing?
According to my calculations, he is attempting to concentrate a powerful blast using a combination of the elements.
Will it work?
No. DaMAI said, sounding slightly solemn about the situation. Before being able to warn Zero about the danger, another vibration occurred, this one so similar to the last one, yet completely opposite. A scream erupted from Zulu's mouth, and he vanished. No explosion, no lights, nothing to single he had disappeared. He just, "Blinked." An audible click! echoed throughout the room, the wall to his right opening on unseen hinges. A tall, dark man stood in a black suit, his gargantuan height reaching 6'4. It was the Director of Origin, the one who promised Azmot's father that his son would never be in any real danger. Unknowing to Azmot, he was also fully aware how Zero received the rings, for he had given them to him. The mental breakdown that Zero experienced was also all apart of this horrible mans plan. His directive, however, is not known.
"Project A.Z.M.O.T..... You have passed. You are know the leader of Origin." The giants voice bellowed, straightening his tie and removing his sunglasses.
"Theres no-one to lead, you... you IDIOT! YOU LET THEM DIE! YOU LET HER DIE, YOU ROTTEN BASTARD!" he screamed, sprinting towards the man. On his path he noticed the earlier noted crossbow, his vision of color returning, slowly. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the bow, spinning around his back simultaneously. This was a standard move to avoid enemy fire, though none came. Straightening up, he pointed the crossbow forward at the target, but he had moved closer than before, his nose touching the arrowhead.
"Die? I believe Agent Zulu has been giving you false information, my friend. Look yourself." He responded calmly, waving his hand in a backwards motion. Peeking around the mans huge arm, Azmot saw the door to reveal nothing.
"What? I don't-" A large thud was burned into the back of Azmot's skull, the Director disabling his weapon and striking him with it in quick succession. Blackout.
Azmot awoke in a smaller room, tied to a table. He had a slight variation of his normal outfit, a right spaulder attached to his arm, and a partial breastplate latched on. A speaker rotated towards him from the right wall on the room. He couldn't seem to focus on the roms details, and he also was unable formulate a decent insult to whomever was here. Obviously, he was drugged.
Role Playing Sample: Alpha roamed through the outskirts of Traverse town, looking around the 1st district for a decent store. He unclasped his his mask, hooking it onto his shorts for later use. He stood in front of a small, local runned shop, his hair swept to the left. Azmot wore a White T-Shirt, a lighting bolt streaking across the surface of the torso. His shorts, going 2 inches passed his knees, were grey, frayed on the bottom of the leg sleeves. His Belt hung loose and leaned to the right, only an inch hanging from the noose. His feet were covered in jet black shoes, looking a bit to loose if he wanted to do battle, and he didn't. He simply came to look for some new weaponry, that which better accommodated his tastes.
Alone, he walked through the door, a slight ding! could be heard, notifying the cashier that he had entered. Quietly, he walked towards the counter, the display glass littered with random items. Mostly junk, ancient, dirty junk. To Azmot, though, that was the best kind. You never know what kinds of ancient artifacts held some power. "What's your oldest piece, Mrs... Shaka" He said, reading her name tag. Puzzled at the peculiar name, he looked up and examined her face more closely, his eyes turning Grey for a moment. Scanning through her information, he learned that she was mostly Agrabain, and probably lived there until years ago. She only nodded in response, heading out the back for a moment. Azmot inhaled deeply, watching intently as she brought back a red, stone pyramid, carved with runes and scriptures that he could not understand.
"Could you give me a story on what this is?" Azmot asked, glancing up as she placed it in his hands. She nodded solemnly, looking downwards. Not wanting to bother her, he moved on to another question. "Is there a way to open this?" he asked, and she looked up quickly. She shook her head at a fast rate, then reached out to grab the object. As the pyramid was taken away from him, he sighed and looked at her expectantly. "No open." She said, a heavy accent layering her words. Azmot shook his head impatiently, pulling currency out of his pocket. He had still possessed a large amount of Munney from a Hit he had just completed, and he planned on spending it leisurely. A 5000 bill was slipped on the table, and Shaka grabbed at it hungrily, placing the pyramid down in the process. As he snatched it up, she looked at him in horror. "Leave!" she screamed, pointing towards the door in disgust. Why would she sell something if it was dangerous? Azmot thought, turning towards the entrance. Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, the clicking of the lock could be heard. He didn't bother confirming it, continuing along the upper path until he arrived at a bench. Examining it closer, he noticed a small patch of rock that was miscolored on the base. Curious, he pressed it, and the Artifact creaked open, revealing a pitch black stone in the middle. It seemed to move around, black clouds imitating a storm inside the core. Touching it, Azmot detached the sphere, noticing a slight swelling as he did so. But, a moment later, it retreated to normal side. Curious, he looked closer, watching as it pulsed bigger and smaller, faster with each given swell. Not really sure what to do, he simply stared at it, watching as it reached it's final swell. Just when he thought it was going to explode, it halted, small words appearing inside the core. It read "Ask again later."
"Some cheap fortune teller? What a rip..." Azmot said, throwing the "Artifact" in the bin. He stepped carefully down the stairs, walking toward the exit of the world.
A question about his history: How did he get from his 'unknown' world to Traverse Town? Unfortunately, not everything can be faded into black. This unknown points may be unknown to everyone else, but the events in between should be at least summarized so that the omniscient reader will know what happened in his past. The history itself is generally confusing, and I'm trying to get a hold of what's going on. xD I'd suggest breaking different ideas into their own paragraph.
Lockdown ability - I'd suggest mentioning a general size limit to objects he can weigh down, so he can't, say, drag an airplane from the sky with Darkness.
Dwelling Eyes and Dark Adaptation are relatively strong abilities, with many more benefits than detriments. Most of the abilities after that either need to be removed or heavily limited, for at the moment he is, unfortunately, far too powerful. His ring also needs to have more drawbacks to it's power.
Let's start here. You have five days to make edits. :] I'd suggest taking your time with the powers, cutting them down significantly to make room for character growth.
I can get on most of that, with a short delay, but I was wondering if we could save the history for last and narrow the scope a bit. Perhaps we can go down the list individually, starting with powers and ending with history, and fix it like that. I'd find it would be more effective for me to do it this way, because by the time we get done with powers, I should have a decent idea of how you want this done. Then, I can get it in one scoop. Also, if possible, can we start on the weekend or later? I have quiet a bit of schoolwork to proceed with, and it would be extraordinary if you could comply.
No problem, we can do that if you wish. ;] Just post when you've edited and specify which edits you've made, and we can go from there. You may want to shoot me a PM too if you don't get a response in in the next few days, so I don't accidentally forget to check.
Alrighty, first off, let's look at the powers more specifically now. Your edits so far are lovely.
Pacifist's Way - Just understand that because this healing ability completely restores him, it takes a while, and therefore more wounds can be afflicted while he's healing. I'd also suggest adding that vital blows or limb regeneration would be beyond his capabilities of healing. (rather than regen a limb, say, the healing ability would sew up the stump of whatever was cut off)
Dark Adaptation is an ability that allows him to learn powers after only a bit of observation. I may have to ask you remove this ability, and replace it with that he is a quick learner or something similar. Magic takes along time to learn to use, and years of discipline and training go into learning to wield a weapon. It would leave your character with little room to improve if he can pick these things up right off the bat.
Dark Understanding follows this, but rather than picking up other's abilities right away it is more of a power that enhances how he observes and learns. If you leave out Adaptation and modify Understanding slightly, you should be good with the powers.
Without the Ability to learn, I decided it would be best to leave that out until my character evolves. Edited nothing Really, just abused the Backspace button. I might add a Shield power later, though.
Alright, powers are set. Now for the History. To avoid redundancy, I'll ask that you look at my previous comment regarding it, edit what you can, and we can work off of that. ;]
I'll need a little more time, due to internet limitations and writers block. You may as well put this on hold, move it to the rejection bin, or whatever you do when a deadline is overdue. I apologize, but I will edit as soon as I am given the time.
EDIT Ok, I've edited it up to the climax, or at least the rising action. I will work on the Falling Action and resolution when I am able.
