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Bil "Billy" Peyote, The living Sandstorm (Done)

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Bil:

Basic info
Name: Bil “Billy” Peyote
Name’s Origins: Bil is a character that references two things, with his design being that of a gunslinging cowboy, Billy the Kid, and the other being Bil, sibling of Hjúki, who was forced to stay with their father Mani until Ragnarok. As for his surname, Peyote, is a type of cactus, and can be used as a pun for someone mistaking his last name as Coyote.
Alias: Desert Storm
Age: 24-ish
Birthday: 8/1
Gender: Male
Race: Hawk Faunus
Faunus Trait: Hawk Eyes, Feathers
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 188 lbs
Face Claim: N/A, I draw my own stuff.

Stats
STR: 3
DEF: 3
RES: 2
SPT: 4
SPD: >2 (Above average with Aura)
HP 150|150 AP

Personality
Major: Citizen

Likes: Guns, liquor, cola, spaghetti westerns, Dogs, Cats, fresh air, flirting, trains, anything free, steak, ribs, BBQ, convenience stores (because they’re convenient), restaurants, and house work (surprisingly.)

Dislikes: Being called young man by someone younger than him, squids, swimming, any rich folk, businessmen/women, grocery stores, a messy home, sci-fi movies, people who think they have authority over him without any qualifications, and noodles.

Fears: A jail from which he cannot escape from, guns that do not shoot bullets but instead spray a healing salve that heals all wounds, every manufacturer of alcohol being shut down.

Talent: Fighting
Weakness Cybernetics/Robotics
Overall Personality:

"If I were a coward, an’ this gun is a coward’s weapon, I wouldn't be spinnin’ this hand-cannon here ‘round my finger an’ risking blowin’ a hole in my head."

Rugged, unshaven with a farmers tan and an obsession over hats, guns, and bullets. He can probably shoot the wings off the back of a nevermore while it's flying, while he's hanging upside down with a pistol from a hundred yards away. You probably know Bil’s (Arche)type, right? He’s a gunslinger, and is someone that fancies himself as a Cowboy Herototally not an outlaw, straight out of a cheesy Spaghetti Western. Someone that knows that nothing in the world brings him more joy than the wide open plain and skies over claustrophobic houses and hallways. Preferring the taste of alcohol over tea, and steak over green stuff.

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A livin’ contradiction.
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Behold the outlaw: subject to torture and rigorous training as a young man, he has become a wandering 'cowboy'. Always penniless and often disdained by those whom he protects, he wanders the world seeking odd jobs and work, and the occasional tavern to sleep in. In the face of piling obstacles in his way, he trudges on and pays no mind to horrors occur in his wake. On the surface, he is introverted, tight-lipped, and one might even say gruff, but underneath lies an overflowing sea of good will, good humor, and an honest readiness to help his friends, be it with a bit of sound advice or the masterful application of a bullet, or fine boot directed to the head.

He's laid back, and regularly keeps a friendly and cool attitude. Though usually quiet most of the time, he is shown to be a very social person, being able to hold conversations with others, tell jokes in dramatic situations, and express a certian fondness for company. His usual demeanor suits his appearance perfectly, and in spite of looking the part of a stereotype, he is always willing to put others before himself in both terms of well-being and social standing. He usually refers to others as either Sir or Ma'am, though this may come off as sarcastic from time to time should he be speaking to someone with a little too much coin in their purse. If that is the case, and the person he is talking to is quite wealthy or the heir or heiress to a company, or just nobles and plain rich, he will sarcastically address them as "Prince/King" or "Princess/Queeny" depending on their age group.

Just the same though, the man’s a living Clint Eastwood movie, cigar, guns, and all. Having been raised in an old-west-ish desert environment for half of his life, with his obsession over such movies, he’s a little uncivil and often comes off as a backwashed hick. “Clingin’ onto the idea of duels, shooting to get what he wants, or to resolve an argument.” His terms of endearment are a little outdated, referring to friends as “Pard’ner”, and due to where he was trained and raised, his regard for laws or social norms are in the outhouse.

Bil is just about as out of place as a potato in the middle of a strawberry patch, as his anti-social nature and ‘vocabulistics’, terms of endearment, accent, and so on were often part of his charm where he learned to fight. For instance, he's gone to pet stores and asked for one of those “Metal Horses” that go “Vroom Vroom” things, and then roam out into the middle of a street filled with cars and motorcycles with little concern of the honking or ongoing traffic. Even his vocabulary and terms of endearment seem to be antiquated and out of place, baffling everyone around him and leading some to believe he is delusional.

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That destroys his liver daily.
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Usually presented from a more comedic standpoint during interactions, Bil is a drinker, and he does so to numb himself. This is most likely due to the traumatizing effects of his continuous travels on the planet may have on him. But one should not be fooled, for he is smarter than he seems. Though he acts like a drunkard and braggart as a layer of woven incompetence, to cover up his ferocious prowess for when a foe least expect it. Much like camouflage.The battle-damaged suffered by a fully fledged Hunter or Huntress during a time of war in the span of a year, does not appear so serious when compared to the suffering of Bil's liver.

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While dabbling in the grayer shades of morality.
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Bil is a mercenary, trained to be one in a special ‘school’ similar to that of Syne or Beacon, only a little less well known. He plays both the hero and the villain role, which causes him to frequently butt heads with figures of authority. He is what the world needs him to be at any given time, whether it be a cold blooded murderer, or a noble hero. He is more than willing to come to aid a fellow man and give up his own life, but at the same time take another if it is ‘necessary’ to prevent any further serious casualties.

Speaking of authorities, Bil has trouble taking orders from others, and is usually displayed as an anti-totalitarian, and seems to dislike people with authority, as well as "Rich posh bastards 'nd businessmen", referring to them as scum of the earth, as some corporations benefit off of natural resources such as Dust when it sprang out of the earth for “all of man to use”. Though, that particular speal about dust may be due to the cost of how much dust-enhanced bullets cost. In spite of his hatred of figures of authority, he has no problem with government officials or lawbringers of any kind (Sheriff, Police, Mall cops, etcetera), or even teachers. All in all though, he doesn't like being told where to go and what to do, and wants to live his life the way he sees fit.

Just the same with this disregard for some authority figures, when he's "on the job", he's willing to disregard rules, laws, and social norms if it is necessary to complete a task or escape a dangerous situation, frequently making those that see him wonder if he's really a good guy or just some bandit playing cowboy. One would see him as being in the ‘gray’ area of morality. He's resorted to assault, battery, vandalism of public property, smuggling, home invasion, reckless endangerment, threats, indecent exposure, and even murder or arson in order to get the job done. The most common crimes committed are driving under the influence and public intoxication though.

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Hobbies? Favorite meals? Simple stuff
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In spite of his little technical skill and how out of place he is in the world, Bil possesses an extraordinary talent for housework, so to speak. Never once will someone walk into his dorm and find a messy room filled with camouflage suits or something stupid like that, though there will be plenty of jars filled with dried berries and vegetables on shelves. He enjoys cleaning and finds it relaxing, but loves cooking far more. Home cooking is his forte, and he especially prides himself in his barbecue. Sparing no expense when it comes to the ingredients he uses to make a delicious meal.

Bil isn’t a very picky eater, and usually finds something he likes in every dish he’s served, but frequently picks out red meats. Though, that isn’t exactly the same for drinks. When it comes to any beverage he consumes he’ll always pick something that calms his nerves and inebriates him, or warm drinks like coffee, cocoa, or tea (green tea, black tea, sun tea).

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Finally, when it comes to friends.
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In spite of being an uncivilized, foolish, reckless, inebriated cowboy, Bil has a certain charisma about him. He makes friends easily and usually doesn’t let go of those friends unless they’re about to die off, and even then he keeps pictures around afterwards. Though this in no way counts as a skill that enables him to persuade or speak with others. When it is needed, he is able to impart words of wisdom, and always tries to make those friends feel more alive (even though this usually means he's going to subject them to life-threatening dangers to get their adrenal glands working). When it comes to friends he’s a bit more perceptive and takes notice of their feelings. In the event that someone close to him is hurt, he'll do his absolute best to ensure that they're okay.

Abilities
Aura type: Speed
Aura Color: Beige
Semblance:

He is able to generate, as well as manipulate a common meteorological phenomenon common in arid and semi-arid regions, referred to as a sandstorm. In a moment's notice his body can generate a sandstorm within a fifteen foot radius and move around in it freely. Through sheer force of will the sand begins moving like a tornado, being push forward and around him like a thick dust storm he had to tough it through back home. Though in doing so he's reducing his visibility, the sandstorm dehydrates the environment and provides him with a powerful offensive/defensive shield protecting himself or damaging an opponent based on a 1 to 1 radius of Aura spent. While this sandstorm provides him with a shield, he is also able to ‘open up gaps’ in it to shoot through.

One noticeable fault to the sandstorm is indicating whether it is either protecting or defending Bil, when ‘defending’ the storm will spin counterclockwise and force things out. When ‘attacking’, the storm spins clockwise to pull things in and effectively blend someone’s flesh.

Once he is ‘done’ using his sandstorm, it falls to the ground creating a field of sand wherever he’s standing.

Item 1: Created at the need of a weapon with a little more kick, and chosen due to the reliable design and near impossibility of the weapon ever jamming, Bil carries with him a massive custom silver-plated revolver with a top-break reloading mechanism. The weapon itself is heavy, weighing about thirty pounds, while also sixteen inches in length. In spite of it’s appearance, the weapon is capable of firing up to seven rounds before needing to be reloaded. Though it stylistically shares the same design of an ordinary revolver, albeit 'larger', the weapon utilizes specially designed armour-piercing hollow-point bullets with the purpose of ‘putting down’ a target, permanently. The rounds are jacketed with a casing of silver and feature a tip that expands upon entry (hollow-point) or contact with any surface, certain injuries made with the rounds fired cannot be treated without first causing as much damage going out as it did going into the target.

The handgun carries Intricate designs are etched onto the slide and grips, on the left side the weapon the word man is etched into it, and on the right, though misspelled, “Grim”.

Item 2: Though appearing as nothing more than a normal duster and charcoal suit, with plenty of leather straps, Bil wears an intricate suit of lightweight, but extremely durable armor capable of absorbing and dampening the effects of impact from physical attacks, whether it be from blunt weaponry, bullets, or blades. (T1 Physical armor.)

History and Sample
History:

Born a Faunus Raptor under the name of “Bil” to a kind hawk running a Tavern at an outpost in Mistral. Growing up he had an ordinary childhood, though the little bird boy was disdained by many due to what he was (Not a faunus friendly environment.). Naturally he gravitated to other children so that he could try to make friends, have fun. However, as the only Faunus child in town, and with nobody else either, like him, he was singled out and shunned as a child.

He was disappointed, sad, he only ever wanted to play with others and make them smile, like his father made him smile, but that opportunity was stripped from him, as were many others in that unforgiving settlement. Even the bar his father owned and ran was a bit inactive. So during the time when there was no one around in the tavern, Bjorn picked up his little winged hawk boy and treated him to the many movies that he watched as a child; Spaghetti Westerns.

Though that was likely one of the largest mistakes his father could have made, as it would influence his activities later in life and then be reinforced even more later on by a misguided group of government hating outlaws, it did provide Bil with some skill. He was able to replicate many of the unrealistic feats that some of the protagonists in the movies had displayed, almost perfectly with his toy revolver in hand. Seeing how interested his son was in this stuff, Bjorn would give the tavern a theme, painting it up one day just to make the little bird boy happy, but in doing so it would bring in a crowd of new customers, there was a certain appeal to the tavern now that they were distracted from the Faunus running it.

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Exploiting those skills.
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As Bil grew tall, his father would teach him that to keep some of the patrons entertained he would need to put on a show from time to time. Even adopt a certain set of characteristics that were uncommon to him. To earn some cash, Bjorn took it another step further and put his boy up for betting matches. Using his unusual skill with a pistol, and his knack for accuracy due to his peculiar eyes, Bil would be given a little peashooter, and forced to participate in nightly bouts of wrestling, drinking, games of darts, and even a little contest “duels” (Ten steps back, count to three, then turn around and draw.) just to entertain the populace and feed himself. The terms of the matches were that if Bil won, the loser would buy him a meal in the tavern, or pay him, whereas if Bil lost, he would be bound to do whatever the winner demanded, in doing so Bil would build character.

Though, his losses losses were significantly overshadowed by his victories, as more often than not the pale-haired Faunus happily filled his belly every day. There were of course still some losses, and when he lost and asked him to do one task, whether it be cleaning out a garage or something stupid like that, Bil would do so without a second thought.

It wasn’t until one day a man dressed up along with the theme of the tavern came along did the bartender seem a bit concerned. He’d go to 14 year old Bil and ask what the boy wanted to do with his life, and whether or not he wanted to remain a thing of human entertainment for the rest of his days. ”There may be money in it, but wouldn’t you rather have an adventure?” The man with short curly white hair (much like Bil’s, but less tame) requested a duel. He’d pay the fee and whip out a silver pistol, loading it up with the play ammo as requested. He claimed he was a ‘dead-eye’, and challenged the arrogant youth to a shooting contest. Stating that if he lost he would pay an even larger sum of money, enough to keep the ‘lights on for good’. On the cahnce the old man won however, he would take Bil and teach him how to be a real gunslinger. To “Use them gift’s properly, boy”.

”Kid. On three, we draw.”

Though the challenge was rather sudden, Bil was more than happy to try his luck against an old dead-eye. In a moment’s notice, Bil agreed and eagerly set up the shooting range, drawing his pistol and aiming. Much to Bil's surprise, the man shot the gun Bil had clean out of his hand, before putting two between the boy’s eyes. The old fighter was named Mani, and after a quick chat, Bil would be… Adopted, for lack of a better term. Bjorn of course was hesitant, but still in it for the money. After Mani had given him a large enough son, he practically forced Mani to sign the legal guardianship papers, handing him off to the old cowboy.

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Enter the Labyrinth.
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In the following days on an airship ride to the distant edge of a dry desert in Mistral, Mani would tell Bil of his goal, and of how Bil was one of his ‘many children’ now. Of how the old fellow had ventured so far just to meet Bil, a lone ‘wild son’ out of place in the world. The man claimed to have been the headmaster of a very unusual private combat school for the more rough and tumble types. They didn’t train ‘Heroes and Huntsmen’, they trained killers to go out and get a job done as fast as possible. Being that they were training people to be Mercenaries rather than huntsmen, it usually presented itself as more of a ‘Ranch’ than a school to hide what illegal activities they taught the students there.

The ones who weren’t social enough to get into a place like Beacon or Syne, or were far too violent to fit the bill for the next generation of heroes. Mani explained that he had challenged dozens of orphans with skill and grace with weapons, to bouts of eating, drinking, wrestling, and 'aiming' contests. Invariably of course, the seasoned veteran always emerged victorious, although usually when he tried to ‘adopt’ the child, what caretaker or foster system got in the way before he could take his students and bring them back to ranch.

After a long ride on an airship Bil would be brought to the Ranch, where only the most anti-totalitarian huntsman and huntress gathered to teach the young without interference from the outside world or kingdoms.

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Training.
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Mani would entice his new young pupil with the idea of adventures, outlaws, bandits, and of the life under the stars. Telling him that the strong are not the ones that come out on top in the end, but the ones with the skills needed to survive. The old man would take Bil to a desert island, with sand as white as the surface of the moon, and at the center of the island, in the core of the maze of sand dunes and ruins, an oasis paradise, fitted with a ranch and plenty of cattle. The outskirts of the ranch, though filled with fields, would become his training grounds. Though peaceful in the daylight, the place was filled with traps and often seemed like more of a private military training facility from time to time with all of the tech guarding the place, training machines, and so on.

His days would become filled with grueling exercises and labor, taking care of the farm and helping out around their school. At night it was an entirely different story though, Bil, or rather Billy at the time as he was nicknamed, was brought into the Peacekeeper ‘extra curricular’ program. Through that program, the unorthodox, authority despising teachers there taught Bil to be the perfect revolver-toting mercenary, and there he would grow to become somewhat of a living stereotype. Not the high-nooning type either, the “If there’s valuables on that train they’re mine” type. They taught him to be reckless, nourished his skills and made sure he knew how to cover up his tracks. Teaching him that no businessman or politician was clean, and that what they owned and knew was valuable to the right buyers.

At the same time though, he’d be taught that those ‘dirty politicians and businessmen’ had a lot of money, and a lot of enemies they wanted dead.

Some of the more outdoor exercises were held at night, where he’d be locked out of the school and be sent off into the desert to survive for days at a time alone. With nothing more than a skinning knife and a rusty revolver, he’d spend his time evading the drones built to capture and pursue the few students that made it far enough into the night on their own, keeping them on the move constantly for a good cardio workout, as well as the means to stay on the move while hunting, and being hunted.

While the school’s training was mainly for human targets, he was taught how to deal with Grimm in the event of them attacking. Primarily how to avoid them and pick out their weak points. Given his light hollow, but sturdy bones and above average reflexes and aim, he’d be taught that speed and accuracy for him was key for survival, that the faster he can reload and fire his gun the more damage he’d be able to do.

He’d spar with the other gunslingers there. Eventually it got to the point where when his mentor was hopping around in the desert hunting him, Bil was sitting alone, wrapped in coyote furs at night while sand whizzed by him. studying guerrilla warfare that would better assist him in fighting against human targets, all the while sipping a bottle of whiskey while they ran around in the dust looking for someone playing on a Scroll and cracking jokes over an instant message system with the other students.

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Epilogue.
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When he finally 'graduated', Bil was just about as lethal with a revolver as he was when conjuring up large sandstorms. He didn't waste his time picking up a few missions off the board and heading off to take high price targets off the face of the earth, leaving only behind a room filled with sand at a time. Earlier heists were... Messy, he didn't get away with so much as a scratch, but did manage to get by stealing some very special pieces of equipment to help him along the way.

After racking up  a small criminal record (including three counts of fraud, two counts of public intoxication, one count of assault, and finally, while not a crime, he managed to piss off two very wealthy families for reasons both relating to relations, and money.) He'd take some time to himself and take a vacation on a little isolated isle with a self-named city (Bellamuse.) Where communication was cut off in one or another, and his face would not be recognized.

RP Sample:


This was certainly concerning. Waking up in a strange room completely naked, covered in sand. The sand part was... Normal. For him at least, but the silk red sheets and comforter weren't. Even when he was piss drunk he didn't wake up in a stranger's bed. This wasn't his home, let alone his safe house.

He wasn't on the same old cruddy futon at his safe-house in vale where he'd gone to bed for once. On top of that the room was air conditioned, and under him was actually a half decent bed. His eyes darted around the room, the first thing he'd spot were his hat and gun hanging from a hook on the wall, still the sand-battered shade of brown it was the last time he had put it on. It wasn't a holding cell, the fine oak wood floor told him that; someone actually lived here...  Though, probably not in this particular room. His torn up pair of jeans with black leather straps around the knees and his trench coat were just sprawled across the floor. If everything of his was on the floor or hanging around then his scroll must've been around here.

Bil would get up out of bed, using the blanket as a temporary cover as he dug around in his jean pockets for his outdated scroll, puling up the contacts list and messaging system to see if there was anything new. He'd look over the contacts on the scroll, the first name that popped up was 'Hildago', the next 'Clint', after that there was 'Black Jack', then 'Papa Bear Bjorn', and so on and so forth until reaching the bottom of the list where a bold purple name read as 'Arms Dealer Bert'.

Overlooking the new name, he'd swipe right to get back to the app page on the transparent beige-rimmed device, getting back to where the apps were, pulling up the GPS to find out where exactly he was right now. He'd read it off the address before stopping in his tracks, dropping the blanket. "...I'm in springwood?."



Last edited by Julius Falcone on Tue Jul 18, 2017 7:30 pm; edited 4 times in total

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Alright this app is brilliant and I had a ball reading it but there is one tiny thing. Your stat layout does not grant you above average speed as you have suggested it does, it is above two or three and above not two and above for above average ^^ You could rectify this by either taking speed aura rather than strength or simply fiddle about with your stats a little. If you made your aura type defence instead of power and moved a point from def to str you would have the same stats yet the speed you want (though if you expend your semblance you would lose a point of def rather than str, rare as that would be) bump when done ^^


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Approved ^^


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