Notbek, Ikki

[Guest]

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CASE FILE: Alchemist {Sergent Major}

Yeah, I could use a dream or genie or a wish
To go back to a place much simpler than this

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FULL NAME:
→ Ikki Notbek.

AGE:
→ 21.

SEX:
→ Male.

BIRTH PLACE:
→ London, Creta.

RACE:
→ Drachman/Auregese

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ July 7th, 1989.

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HEIGHT:
→ 180.3 cm

WEIGHT:
→ 71 kg

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ Ikki draws eyes wherever he goes, though not by any choice of his. He unfortunately has naturally blue hair brushing his chin that once caused him to be the source of much ridicule back in primary school, along with a lighter pair of blue eyes with an Auregese shape to them that seem to remind people of ice. Along the top and bottom of his right eye a crimson tattoo curls up towards his hairline, the only physical memento of his first (and last) encounter with alcohol.

Unlike his sister, Ikki inherited the better parts of the gene pool and stands just a bit taller than most. Most of his mass comes from his muscles that are molded to his lean body. He isn’t fond of muscle heads, as he calls them, and has vowed never to become one, leading to an almost scrawny appearance from a distance. Or a girly appearance, since his fingers are pale and as ‘elegant’ and long as any pianist could hope for. It’s for this reason he covers both his hands in white gloves, despite his left hand being a mock imitation of a human’s.

His price for ‘Truth’ resulted in the complete loss of his left arm. Thankfully, his body responded well to automail, and with Moscow’s cold climate he can get away with wearing long sleeves constantly and his white gloves. He still feels, at night, the phantom feeling of his old limb but pushes it to the back of his mind (and when he’s feeling particularly good, he thinks of it as a similarity to the great Elric brothers).

Ikki’s typical attire consists of a knee length trench coat of sorts, complete with a hood. It was his Halloween costume when he was seven, and when he found it again a year ago he decided to have a similar made for daily use, seeing as how the fashion nowadays includes hoods and dark clothing. He wears a pair of loose pants tucked into a pair of snow boots (pants, he stresses, not pantaloons no matter how baggy they may seem because of his coat).

He’s been told that even in face of his appearance, his voice and mannerisms are quite normal. He doesn’t have a particularly deep voice, or a soft one that fits his ‘girly’ hands; he speaks the way one would imagine any random face on the street would, but with an amused end that could lead one to believe he was laughing at them. His actions are no less normal: he walks with sure, steady steps that take him where he needs to go. (There once used to be an arrogant swagger to him, but that has long disappeared.) He stands with his back straight, chin up, and eyes for the most part looking straight ahead (he won’t lie—there are times when he looks down or back, but they’ve become rare over the years).

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PERSONALITY:
→ Ikki was once a horribly arrogant boy. He still carries some of that arrogance with him, but it is now a simple confidence in his abilities and the knowledge of his limitations. He is sure of himself and what he wants in life and doesn’t care much for others’ opinions of him, especially not that of his sister. He’s changed from that little boy who used to raise his fists whenever someone mentioned his blue hair, even if he still does get annoyed whenever someone does make a pass at him.

With his friends (as few as they now are), Ikki is self-assured and calm. His boasting nature has vanished and been replaced with a more contemplative, even wary, look on life that could be considered borderline cynical. He isn’t one to get annoyed easily and when he does, his response usually consists of clipped words and resisting the urge to bang his head against a desk. Again. It’s when he’s faced with his sister that Ikki truly loses his patience and occasionally storms out of the room. He can’t help it—his history with his sister is a tumultuous one, filled with tantrums and sibling rivalry and a simple issue of not being able to understand the other. It’s because of this Ikki tries to limit their conversations to a few minutes max, lest he seriously consider running away or something equally insane.

He isn’t prone to bouts of insanity, though. Ikki likes planning things out (that one time with the alcohol disregarded) and has been planning out his ascent to greatness for too long now to just drop it all and run away. His ambition is contagious, apparently, as it oozes out of him like a bad odor (and yes, he has gotten the joke about his name and that similarity before) but it has receded over the past few years. He plans to one day be second-in-command of Drachma’s military force, as the position of Tzar is a little too flashy and out there for him. Staying out of the direct spotlight will be good for him in the long run, and will keep his head nice and deflated.

It’s when he’s with honest jerks that Ikki likes taking the backseat. He doesn’t think of himself as any hero, fantasies aside, and what have been other people’s problems for years will continue to be their problems. He doesn’t believe in fighting someone else’s battles, not even if that someone is a little girl crying on the sidewalk over her dropped ice cream. It’s not being cruel—Ikki figures that learning that life can be a cold place now is better than learning it later, when it truly counts. That being said, he’s not ignorant enough to not step in when someone’s bleeding to death in front of him. That’s a different matter entirely; an emergency and whatnot, and then he will consider kicking the assailant where it hurts before running like hell. (He’s a good fighter, sure, but he’s not a masochist.)

Those few that actually hate Ikki for some odd reason he’s never managed to figure out try to provoke him. It’s never worked, since Ikki’s found out that pretending to ignore them makes for a much easier fight and leaves his pale skin nice and unbruised. He doesn’t like fighting; he thinks that it causes a mess and would very much prefer to take a systematic approach to things. It’s no wonder, then, that he loves chess and checkers and he wishes he knew how to play the Auregese version of chess. It never really clicked with him, sadly.

His mom attempted to drill it into his brain, once, on those rare visits back home when she actually stayed longer than a week. The conclusion left Ikki banging his head against a wall (his desk was under repairs) and his mother leaving back for work early. Clearly, while his arrogance might have slipped away recently, his patience never grew much from when he was a kid, making tantrums every other day. His mother never understood how he could love chess with having such a short fuse.

Ikki doesn’t consider himself an apathetic being, despite everything that’s been said above. He genuinely loves his family (even his bratty little sister) but just doesn’t like showing it. Or admitting to it. Or even acknowledging that that love exists, since there’s not a point to it in his mind. He’s fine with hellos and goodbyes, but ‘bonding time’ is not in his dictionary so Ikki doesn’t spend much time at home, leading to a rather shallow understanding of his sister, his parents, and his nanny who he doesn’t consider beloved. Nice, yes, but not beloved like every movie tends to make the nanny.

Even after his failed attempt at human transmutation Ikki didn’t try to learn about his family, or try to get closer to them. They were blood-related, yes, and he had seen firsthand how fleeting life was, but the loss of his arm only reminded him of his failure, how he was far from the best. It might have changed his personality a fair amount but it didn’t make him any closer to his family.

In fact, the one person Ikki could claim to have truly known him was his best friend. She was bright, pragmatic in a terribly helpful way, and in the very depths of his mind Ikki admits to once have had budding feelings for her. And when she died, all he knew was rage and despair. Despair that led him to nearly losing himself, and despair that put into his mind that he was only a sixteen year old boy and the very best was sitting somewhere far away, with Ikki’s left hand on his blank outline.

(That thing—that childish outline—is the one thing Ikki hates more than anything. It’s also the one thing he fears more than anything.)

His doom and gloom aside, Ikki does have something of a lighter side. His jokes don't make much sense and he considers himself to be just a little socially awkward these days, but he does have a budding idiotic personality. Idiotic meaning he likes using a pair of drumsticks for his alchemy and pretending that they are magic wands. The thing his, while is alchemy does work perfectly, he usually never has to use them because the targeted persons tend to break out in laughter at one point or another.


LOVE:
→ Alchemy, Books, Learning, Dogs, Walking, The voice people have when sick, Red hair, Ice cream (though not of the Drachman variety), Brown eyes, Chess, Coffee

HATE:
→ Truth, Blood, Cars, Alcohol, Crying, Teenage girls (he’s more scared of them), Darkness, Tattoos, Snow, Summer, Cats

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ He preformed human transmutation after a deadly crash that took the life of his best friend. He then proceeded to lie about it afterwards, fearing the wrath of the military, and claimed that his arm had been lost in the fire after the car’s engine had blown.

IDOL:
→ Alphonse Elric.

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HISTORY:
→ “Oh, look at that hair. He takes after my side.”

“Considering it was me he came out of, I find that highly unfair.”

The parents took in the bundle wrapped in blue. Blue hair, blue eyes (which probably wouldn’t change), blue blanket. Blue was his color, through and through. Even their hospital room was tinted blue, a fact that could be the reason for their baby girl’s insistent crying.

The father held his firstborn son in his arms, frowning just a little. He’d been hoping the girl would be first to spice things up a little, but apparently not. “We told your father that we’d name the firstborn after him.”

Lying in her bed, exhausted with strands of ink black hair flying awry, the mother could honestly care less. “Fine, his name is Ikki.” She paused. “Dear…in Cretan, doesn’t Ikki sound an awful lot like—”

“Yes,” agreed Ikki’s father, the linguist. He snickered at his snoozing son. “He’ll hate us come his teenage years.”

“I think he’ll hate you more for his hair,” the mother said airily. She held her baby girl carefully, wincing as her little lungs continued to expel as much air as possible. “This one will hate us no matter what, I’m guessing.”

Right there, in that London hospital, she would never realize how right she was. And meanwhile, Ikki slept on.

--

Ikki Notbek was born in London towards the end of his parents’ business trip. His sister was right after him but he prefers not to mention that. It’s bad enough that they share a birthday, and names, and hair. They were taken up north fairly quickly and bundled in thick blankets before they had even registered the change of temperature. They wailed and it pained their mother to leave them so soon but the nanny they had hired had taken care of her as a child; they would do well in her practiced hands.

They had a very average childhood. Ikki would bother his sister, she would bother him back, tantrums ensued and their poor nanny somehow managed to survive through it all. In the beginning, their parents dropped by every few weeks, dropping kisses on their foreheads, praise, and a basketful of gifts from faraway lands. As they grew, their visits grew shorter and more spread apart. Ikki knew that his sister wasn’t fond of the lack of parental guidance in those years, but he didn’t mind—the girl next door was everything he could have wanted in a sister so most of his time was spent there.

Her name was Alena, a little Cretan girl who never grew taller than him despite being a year older. She was, in Ikki’s mind, smart (but annoying), kind (with an awesome right hook), and most of all her flaming red hair took everyone’s eyes to her instead of his own blue head. Her parents were somewhat like his own: busy, never really around, and had the habit of leaving their kids to their own devices.

The best thing about Alena was that she wasn’t a girl. Well, a girly-girl. She liked playing in mud and climbing trees and all sorts of things that no one else wanted to do, not even the other boys that lived on the same street as them. Milleise tried to join them on more than one occasion but was always turned down. Theirs was a special friendship, they tried to explain to her, which basically meant that no short or little kids allowed. Alena felt a little bad for the girl but Ikki assured her that Millie would make friends of her own soon enough.

When the twins entered school, there wasn’t much change. Alena and Ikki were still best friends and instead of spending their times out in the forests or playing with snow they roughed around with the kids who made fun of their ridiculous hair. It never reached the point of bullying that was depicted in theaters, since truth be told Alena’s right hook was much scarier than anything Ikki could throw together. The wins did give him a big head, though. Alena didn’t do much to stop it aside from rolling her eyes and giving him the rare noogie to remind him who was really in charge.

But in reality, the wins weren’t the real factor in Ikki’s growing arrogance: he was, to put it simply, a smart kid. He knew he was a smart kid. Math, science, everything except languages really, all seemed just too easy. His teachers praised his intelligence but reminded him, time and time again, that no one liked a boasting, arrogant brat.

In true Ikki fashion, he ignored them and set his sights on something much more interesting. Something tangible that would tell him how truly great he was. To do this, he turned his nanny’s oldest son. He was one of those kids every parent warned their child to stay away from (which made Ikki wonder why his parents had chosen this nanny to raise them, if her own son was such a wreck) and because Nanny had her hands full with Millie’s cries for attention, Ikki sneaked right out his house without anyone the wiser.

Well. Except for Alena. She knew, of course, and she helped him out a little by bringing over books that her parents had given her as an eighth birthday present. Ikki didn’t get how they expected Alena to understand those heavy tomes but he took them all the same. His nanny’s son goggled over them, saying how they were both amazing yet surprisingly girly.

Ikki could have cared less. This was something he had to understand before he could excel, and he was bored so this alchemy thing…was perfect.

--

“Those books are locked away for a reason, Ikki.”

In all their years of knowing each other, Ikki hadn’t heard Alena sound…scared. It would have been funny if his head wasn’t stuck in an air vent.

“Yeah, well, no one’s using them right?” His fingers brushed the spine of one of the books his dad had brought home from Amestris. Some old history book or something according to him, but Ikki had seen the transmutation circles decorating its cover. “Why bring them if no one’s gonna use them?”

“Maybe because they’re supposed to be locked up.” He could hear Alena’s frown and rolled his eyes. Wasn’t she supposed to be the adventurous one?

He grabbed the first book and took his head out the vent, shaking the dust off his hair. Ikki held up the book triumphantly as Alena dutifully screwed the vent back into place. “You can’t tell me this isn’t just a little bit cool. Look—” he flipped to a random page covered in alchemic circles and notes in neat, tiny handwriting “—this thing is like some master’s journal. It’s amazing, and so much better than what Alek’s ever taught me.”

Alena looked warily at the book. It felt…scary. The circles jumped out at her like demonic faces, all laughing. “Alek got yelled at by the military, remember? And his parents practically disowned him after that…”

“Yeah but that won’t happen to me,” Ikki said absently. He drank in the complicated words and circles before him, ignorant of Alena’s growing unease. Everything he’d learned from Alek was basic, rudimentary stuff. Just when they finally reached the things that even state alchemists were said to be afraid of, Alek had gotten himself caught and sent away to distant Auregese relatives.

Ikki looked up at last to see Alena frowning again. Sighing, he snapped the book shut and dragged her away from the vent to his living room. “Come on, Al. I won’t do anything stupid, you know that.”

“…If you say so,” she agreed hesitantly. Then she smiled faintly, punching Ikki in the shoulder. “Just don’t get caught—I plan on being the Tzar one day; I can’t afford a delinquent as a best friend.”

--

Time passed quickly for Ikki. He graduated school early, leaving Millie behind once again, and before he knew where time had gone it was his sixteenth birthday. Millie’s too, actually. Their parents came home for it, bearing gifts and many hugs and congratulations for the new graduate. Ikki took it all with a grin—he deserved it, finishing school so quickly and near the top of his class. He should have been first but ever since he’d found those alchemy books with Alena, he’d been distracted. There was so much to learn that school seemed to be a waste of time.

“Back by eleven, Ikki.” His family was gathered around a half-eaten cake, everyone smiling—even fussy Millie. His mother gave him one of her looks that clearly said ‘don’t-argue-with-me’ so Ikki nodded, promising not to break curfew.

(He laughed once he was out the door—he’d never had a curfew before. It was pretty funny.)

The stars were out and there was a nice breeze that let the leaves of their front yard oak tree sway. Ikki rocked back and forth on his heels. He and Alena were going to meet a few of their friends at some dinner place which was supposed to be a surprise party for him. Alena had spilled the beans a few weeks ago. Worst liar in the world, that girl was.

A pair of headlights flashed at him as an obnoxiously yellow car pulled into his driveway, narrowly missing the mailbox. Worst driver in the world, too.

Alena didn’t bother to get out of her car. Instead, she yelled: “Ikki, let’s go let’s go, we’re late!”

By now Ikki knew better than to disagree with her so he climbed in, wincing at the loud rock music blasting through the speakers. Alena loved rocks, and apparently any form of the word was included in that. Even if it made Ikki deaf in both ears.

“Don’t drive too fast,” he warned her, making sure that his seatbelt was in its proper place. He didn’t strike anyone as the safety first sort of guy, but with Alena at the wheel…well, he’d be insane (or suicidal) to go anywhere without his seatbelt on. It was a miracle she’d gotten her license at all.

Alena scoffed, her eyes barely on the road as they backed out. “This coming from the boy who loves to break every rule?”

“Some rules,” he amended, shifting in his seat. He could see snowflakes in their headlights and the night sky was getting darker by the minute. “And watch where you’re going, Al. It’d suck to have something happen on my birthday.”

“Right. Your birthday. Not Millie’s.”

“…Hers too.”

They sat with their mouths closed for a good while after that, Ikki staring out his window and Alena (thankfully) paying attention to the road for once. They were on one of those local roads with no clear divider but Ikki wasn’t worried here; she’d driven on this road a thousand times, it was the main roads that would make him grip his seat.

Looking back, he should have been more worried about that local road. The lack of a divider, the snow, the dark, that huge black truck that came from nowhere, Alena—

The first thing Ikki remembered from that night was pain. Excruciating pain digging into his right arm, so bad he nearly blacked out again. The second was the red paint that was splattered all over the cracked windshield. He stared at it, confused. Alena wasn’t a painter so why would there be paint? And hell, why was the windshield cracked?

He can’t remember how long it took him to turn to the left, or how loudly he would have screamed if his throat hadn’t closed up. Because there she was, colored as red as her hair and Ikki didn’t need to touch her to know that she wasn’t breathing.

The pain in his arm diminished as he croaked out, “Hey, Al, wake up. Come on Al, wake up…” His voice broke up and hot tears poured down his face. All he could see now was a blur of red that was all that was left of his best friend and a mass of black all around him. Suffocating him.

Ikki scrubbed at his eyes with his good right hand. They were isolated, the truck was still, and who knew how long it would take for help to arrive. Not that they would be able to help, since Al was very much gone and medicine couldn’t do anything now. Nothing could except changing time—

Or bringing her back.

Miraculously, Ikki could still open his door. He trudged out, holding his right arm gingerly to his stomach, and stumbled to Alena’s door. Hers was harder than his own to open and he cried out more than once, biting his lip to stem the flow of water down his face. He would get her out, and he would bring her back because she wasn’t allowed to die. Not here, not now, not on his godforsaken birthday that she was out celebrating.

“Come on, Al,” Ikki grunted, finally getting her door open. He grew pale at the increased redness on her side of the car but sucked it up; he had to be strong for this part, stronger than he had ever been before. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to slide her out onto the snowy grass on the side of the road, leaving behind a trail of sticky red blood as they went. Then he straightened, sniffed, and began to draw a circle in the snow around her. This was what he had learned in those books all those years ago—the forbidden alchemy of human transmutation. It took either something or everything from the user, and it brought the military down on their heads if they managed to survive.

Ikki knew all that. He knew it, but he wouldn’t be like those that had gotten caught or hurt. He was good, Alek has said so and so had all those other alchemists he’d met over the years. He was smart, like his teachers had said, and he could get through this and bring Alena back. He had to.

When each rune had been inscribed, Ikki took his place towards one end. It hurt so bad to bring his right arm down with his left to activate the transmutation but in light of recent events, he found that he hardly cared. All that mattered was Alena and bringing her back.

“I’m getting you back, Al,” he whispered. Then he started.

And then, all Ikki could see was a blinding white. The black of the road was gone, the red of Alena’s hair and her blood, all vanished. Even his arm seemed to be perfectly healed. And the only thing around seemed to be a colossal door, chained and locked behind him.

“You don’t notice small people, do you?”

Ikki jumped, nearly tripping over his feet as he brought his eyes down to the…thing sitting cross-legged across from him. If it had been standing up, it would have been his height…only in an outline form. A crude, childish outline. Like a blueprint for a new being.

“…Who are you?” he asked. Ikki was scared. Terrified. And where the hell was he?

The outline somehow grinned a malicious grin and spread its arms wide. “I’m Truth, if that’s what you want to call it. Or God. Or one. And most importantly…you.”

The doors snapped open. Ikki didn’t turn back but he could feel the giant eye staring down at his meager form, and he definitely felt the vine-like hands that started tearing at him. He screamed out, trying to claw his way through—and the last thing he saw before the hands dragged him in was the nonchalant figure of the outline.

The hands shoved him into a tunnel of blackness and light that reeled by him, like the negatives from a camera. It all crammed into his head—and it was too much, he felt like his brain was going to implode and he couldn’t speak for the intensity of the thoughts being piled into him and watching his skin peel off his bones—and then, like a switch being turned on, he understood. This was truth, a white light with a silhouette of a figure with flowing hair. Alena, so close and if he just reached out to her—

“Have fun?”

Ikki blinked and stared at his outstretched hand. He was back. The outline was still sitting as if it didn’t care.

“I saw her.” His hand was dreadfully pale and washed out in this bright light. “I saw Alena, right there, she was so close—I could get her back if I went again—”

“Nope, sorry.” The outline grinned again and finally stated to rise. “You didn’t pay for a second ride,” and as it spoke, a soft blue light consumed its left arm.

And in that instant, Ikki felt his own arm burn away.

--

When he woke up in the hospital some three days later, Ikki didn’t know what to say to the doctors or his parents (who were rightfully freaking out). His right arm was broken, and his left arm was…gone. They had their guesses, he was sure, but apparently Alena’s car had caught on fire just before the ambulance had arrived. The lack of evidence made his excuse of “some metal tore into it” somewhat believable. The transmutation circle had been covered by his blood and the military wasn’t breathing down his neck just yet.

The problem wasn’t in that, though. The problem was that his best friend was dead and that Ikki was effectively a cripple.

The doctors pointed out some good prosthetic makers in the area to his parents but Ikki shot them all down. He didn’t want a plastic limb—he needed automail, to hell with the rehab and painful surgery. People with regular prosthetics didn’t make it high in the military, and that was what he was going to do.

Not for himself. Not now. It wasn’t like he was trying to let Al live vicariously though him, he wasn’t that idealistic. He…he just wanted to see what had made her so eager for it. Why she wanted something like a military position so bad when she could hardly adhere to a few speeding laws—

And that sort of thinking put him in an even more depressed state and made him snap out at Millie more than once. He felt a little bad for it, later. Ikki knew his sister was only trying to help, but seeing her, seeing her face that was so like his own made him ache. His sorry ass, so high and mighty with glory, hadn’t been able to bring one girl back when she hadn’t deserved to die.

Alena was on his mind during the year he spent getting and learning about his new automail arm. The surgery had been hell, but nothing compared to what he’d seen on his birthday, and even Millie—little Millie, the sister he’d always ignored—running away from home didn’t truly register until Ikki himself registered for admittance into the military. He wasn’t surprised, really, and he didn’t care either. Millie was far from stupid and she knew how to take care of herself. Ikki was proven right when fliers started popping up for a movie starring an up-and-coming starlet from Drachma.

He never watched a single one of her movies. Hell, he could barely stand to look at her for two long without feeling phantom pain creeping up his left arm. He didn’t know what agony was until the year of his rehabilitation and every day from then on. Agony was catching glimpses of his parents’ torn faces, of not being able to look a single old friend in the eye, of hating to take off his gloves to see a shining metal in the Moscow sunlight.

It was no surprise, then, to a few of the older people he’d known growing up that Ikki Notbek did a complete 180 in terms of personality. His arrogance had been swiped away, his swagger dimmed down to a hundredth of what it had once been. He still thought things through and was a master at chess, but everyone noticed a different…air about him. He was calmer, more prone to watching things play out before making a move of his own. The only bad thing about this, the old people agreed, was that it made him into an apathetic ass at times but they preferred that over the pigheaded boy he’d once been.

The next four years passed in this fashion for Ikki Notbek: go to work, come home, study, learn, sleep, and repeat. During that normal day he usually had about fifty thousand thoughts of a certain redheaded girl and another ten thousand or so of his missing limb. He grew up, though, ever since that fatal accident. He was made a stronger boy and a stronger alchemist out of it, and nowadays he finds that it isn’t so hard to look at his wayward sister’s face or to remember the better times with his best friend.

(And, of course, in those four years Ikki did get drunk and get that tattoo plastered on his face. No one was particularly happy about it.)

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ALCHEMIC/ALKAHESTRIC ABILITY:
→ Ikki is capable of doing any form of alchemy without transmutation circles.

Living in Moscow has taught Ikki at least one thing: that humidity can become your best friend. Seeing as how science was one of his best subjects, Ikki knows a good deal about the water cycle. He knows that condensation is really just a gathering of water in the sky that can burst if given the right push—and for him, that push is alchemy. His alchemy allows him to cool the molecules in a specific space in the air (given that there are enough water molecules in the first place) along with compressing them until it literally rains. Sad as it is, Ikki can’t do much with his ability: he can make little rain clouds over a few people’s heads for a minute or so, but its strength lies in the amount of moisture in the air. In a place like Moscow, he can make a steady shower and rain on someone’s parade, though from what he’s seen a decent shower’s only good enough for a single person.

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TRIVIA:
→ Ikki loves red hair, just not on girls with brown eyes.
→ Teenage girls scare him because they apparently love both his hair and his fingers.
→ He doesn’t like telling people about his arm.
→ He's incapable of keeping pets since his only goldfish died after an hour of him receiving it. Surprisingly, he does have a bit of a green thumb and most of the plants in his parents' garden are still...breathing. Barely.

→ Fluent in Drachman, Amestrian; learning Auregese and Xingese

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ALIAS:
→ Bali

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Marina

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ Millie’s twin bro…who is probably in for a lot of revision 8D

FACE CLAIM:

Code:

[b]FAIRY TAIL/HIRO MASHIMA[/b]/[i]Jellal Fernandes[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
→ The Scarlet Brigade.

OFFICIAL TITLE:
→ The Light Bender.

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[Guest]

And...done. =D

[Aurelius Schwartz]

REVISE

1. Automail must be a WHOLE limb. There's no plausible way for it to work otherwise.
2. Alchemic Ability: Light has no substance, therefore you can't control it and you cannot distort it. Light is like energy: it cannot be created or destroyed and thus defies the art of alchemy.

>D Damn good app. I really want to rp with him...-evil laugh-

[Guest]

*scratches head* I think I've fixed my brain farts (finding and replacing the forearm with arm, changing his not-alchemy to hopefully alchemy). His rain thing will be explained more in his transmutation app, if that's okay?

xD Thank ye kindly (though he's really a just moody brat at heart~ xD)

[Aurelius Schwartz]

APPROVED

Hahahaha nice!! I love his alchemy. It TOTALLY suits him!! ^o^ Amazing character. Be proud, be very proud~ We HAVE to rp. -not excited or anything-

Don't forget to post in Classifieds!!

[Aurelius Schwartz]

Rolling rank...

[Guest]

The member 'Aurelius' has done the following action : Rank Roll

'Lieutenant Roll' : 10

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