I am a horrible character writer and these only really exist to provide lore explanations for drip and/or my affinity for certain locations.
Felix Gates
Warning: TEXT WALL
Compared to other mages in the Bronze Sea, Felix was relatively inquisitive. Despite the relative luxury he was born into, he wanted knowledge more than anything. Knowledge that Palo Town could not provide. Thus, after turning 18 in 1840, he set out to climb the Stepstones and reach “The Myriad”, a library he had heard much about. Success was likely for the man, leading to his goal’s completion. There, with permission from it’s owner, he read and read - for years on end, he gained knowledge from all across the world. Occasionally, he’d skysail to the Djin ruins to train, or to Cirrus Island to “illegally borrow” some food.
After 6 years of study, not only was he an extremely knowledgeable individual, he had also shaped his own ideology - The War Seas could only be brought to peace by the eradication of Kingdoms. Curses didn’t cause conflicts, the organizations possessing them did. If they were all gone, he believed peace would inevitably return. In an act of foolishness, he left the Myriad, descending the Stepstones and returning to Palo Town.
There, he stole a sailboat and travelled to Frostmill. For months, he worked as an ice miner, training his sensing and ability to veil himself from sensing. After a while, he realized this wouldn’t pay nearly enough to fund his goal. So he sailed to Sailor’s Lodge to hire a crew and purchase a bigger ship. Yet there, he found a mysterious figure near the bounty board. They chatted for a short bit, before he was offered an assassination contract. He’d not ever fought another, however the galleon reward was too much to pass up. He accepted.
The target was one “Aaron Belka”, a renowned bounty hunter currently searching the Forest of Cernunno for a target of his own. Felix had to act swiftly, which he did. He rushed to the Forest, using an outdated map from years prior. Once on the island, he easily sensed his target - the aura was strong, yet lacked much magic energy to it. He snuck between the trees, aiming to ambush the hunter.
Yet the hunter could sense as well, noticing his presence from the moment he arrived. His intent was made clear once he was closer, forcing the hand of the older man. While Belka didn’t want to kill the foolish lad, he still had to fight for his own survival. He’d hold no punches in a fight to the death. Thus, once Felix attempted to strike with a blast of plasma, Belka sidestepped and began combat.
The fight was short - one side was inexperienced but gifted, the other experienced yet overconfident. Belka believed he would sense any attacks before they came and that he could end the fight quickly with his flintlock. Yet his mistake came when he concentrated trace magic into his weapon to boost the velocity of the shot. Felix sensed it right before the ball left the barrel, cocking his head back just enough for it to not send his cerebral fluid splattering across a tree. Though the round did not entirely miss - it had torn a chunk of flesh from his face, tearing a nasty gash across his cheek.
In response, he conjured a magic circle above Belka, engulfing his body in a pillar of plasma. Without conscious control of his magic energy to shield him, the heat from the plasma left him as nothing more than an armored skeleton. When the scorched metal finally cooled, the armor was torn from his corpse by Felix, taken as both protection and as a reminder of the first of many he’d kill for his goal. This marked the start of Felix’s descent into a life of crime and villainy, all for what he believed to be the greater good.
For the next eight years, he took contract after contract, building up his wealth and making himself an even bigger target for bounty hunters. He intentionally avoided Gravy targets - he knew how persistent they were at capturing people like him. His gravest mistake finally came in 1854, where in a battle against a decently powerful opponent, he unleashed a blast that set fire to the settlement upon the island. While he won the battle, it was a pyrrhic victory. Innocents were dying from the flames, and with the imminent destruction of the supports keeping the settlement up, he’d be responsible for this atrocity.
He ran. He took one last visit to Palo Town - see “One Last Time” - and fled to Skyhall. He knew the Grand Navy would hunt him now, they’d scour the entire War Seas for him. Bounty hunters would increase in number until there would be no safe island. Skyhall was the only safe place - he could pass himself as a fellow sky dweller due to his time at the Myriad and his magic could probably land him a job.
This is, at current point, where he remains. He has bought a small home on the outskirts of a village in Skyhall, having stashed his armor in a closet for when he believes it’s safe to return. He trains magic whenever he can, however he attempts to keep a low profile otherwise.
Drip
Personality wise, he is rather cold and logical. Socializing was never a strong suit for him, so he tends to avoid interactions when he can. He’s a Plasma-Explosion mage, currently trying to learn Ash Magic. He has a bad tendency to spare those he doesn’t need to kill - if a bounty hunter gives up or he wouldn’t gain anything from their death, he’ll just deter them by injuring them. The most notable example of which is Zion. He grows fast for a mage of his age, however he lacks the experience of most and doesn’t have resources to allow mutations or further growth.
Miles Lace
Text Wall 2: Electric Boogaloo
Miles Lace was born in the Azura Province circa 1810. While his family was relatively stable, he never had many luxuries as compared to others in the successful kingdom. So when he awakened his magic at 16, he wanted to make money off it. He’d already been a decent swordsman from training with his father, so he elected to become a bounty hunter. With funds scrounged from odd jobs and the occasional thievery, he bought some armor and a boat. Thus, he set out on his bounty hunting career.
He realized the dangers of the Assassin Syndicate, so he consistently used aliases when taking different jobs. Yet he grew more fond of some than others, leading to heightened usage of “Zion” and “Yharim” as compared to many other aliases. He was efficient as a hunter, with his swordsmanship only being complimented by his crystal magic. Victory after victory, payout after payout, his fame and riches only grew. He knew he should quit while he’s ahead - he had already earned enough to guarantee a nice life for him and his family. But greed kept him in the game, hungering for more and more. This came to a head in 1852.
His next target was one “Felix Gates”, a highly dangerous mage who hunted the hunters. From what he’d been given, Gates was in on the nearby island of Cedar Arch hunting a target of his own. It’d be the perfect place for a sneak attack, but his ego would never let him do such a thing. He needed to prove his superiority, this Gates fellow was nothing more than a blood-gifted fraud. He was weak and he’d prove it.
The only weak one ended up being Miles himself. Gates’ target fell quickly, giving Gates time to prepare for the arrival of the brig he saw closing in. By the time Miles arrived, Gates had positioned himself upon the peak of the Arch. The high ground provided an advantage for the beginning of combat, though it wouldn’t have mattered regardless. Miles was exhausted fast, expending all of his energy shielding his body from the scorching heat of the plasma magic. When he lost sight of Gates, he couldn’t sense the blast about to him in the back.
Being knocked to the ground, Miles was in shock - he was going to die here. This was it for him, there’d be no escape. He didn’t have the energy. As Gates grabbed Miles’ own sword from his back, he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time. Though only one eye would remain closed, as an excruciating pain seared across his face. When he opened his eyes, he only saw out of his left. He felt the warm of blood dripping down the side of his face, the signature scent of iron stinging his nose. He’d lost an eye - the bastard didn’t even kill him.
Gates berated Miles for his failure - he had so much potential, so much power, yet he failed to take him out. The rant ended with Gates calling him weak and leaving. Miles couldn’t see where he went, he still could barely move. His mind couldn’t escape that word - weak. He wasn’t weak, he couldn’t be. All his victories couldn’t have been flukes, he was one of the best hunters that the Bronze Sea had ever seen. He couldn’t accept the loss.
Over the next few months, Miles changed. His once business oriented self became more prideful, taunting opponents in fights and attending executions of those he captured. He no longer took time for leisure, devoting every bit of time he had to his work. This payed off - his magic skills improved, his skills with weapons increased, and he got more galleons. But he couldn’t shake a voice in the back of his head, constantly degrading him and his efforts. He slowly began to grow a hatred for it, as well as a hatred for the scum that had caused it.
It was just another hunt. A relatively weak criminal all things considered, but the town was nearly out of contracts. As the target laid unconscious on the ground, something in the the corner of his eye caught his attention. A large, crystalline object the size of a man, only in a spherical shape. It reminded him of the stories he’d heard of sea curses - but those were cubes, right? He walked over to it and touched it - the object vanished in a plume of magenta light, yet nothing else happened. He didn’t feel different, couldn’t sense anything different about himself. Suddenly, all at once, knowledge struck his mind. A second voice whispered in his head, detailing few things about the object. He had absorbed an experimental curse - the illusion curse. The voice gave vague instructions and ideas, yet he couldn’t care for them. He’d just absorbed a curse. He couldn’t be weak now. For him, this was power without peer. No criminal could possibly hurt him, he was immortal… right?
Drip
Pre-Curse attire
Post-Curse robes.
Miles, prior to his defeat, is rather selfish and arrogant. He cares for nothing other than money and victory, having been confused by the same greed that eventually grabs all. He had a huge ego, one that was only ever stoked by victory. With his ego shattered by his defeat however, he tried to desperately put it back together. His acquisition of the illusion curse only brought back its size, yet it remained volatile - the events still haunt him, after all. He only keeps believing himself higher, acting self-important nearly constantly. While still confident, it’s no longer to the point of foolishness like it was prior to his loss. He’s still very, very insecure about his loss, hence his secondary goal of “gutting the mutt that he lost to”.
He’s a Ruby Conjurer, primarily using his staff and katanas in conjunction with his magic. He toys with the enemy, sometimes offering them free hits if they’re weak enough.
A/N
He’s based off of Infinite from Sonic Forces - I saw how dirty they did him and I wanted to try a conjurer, so Miles Lace was created. I had the idea of what to do with a rival for Gates for a while, I just never really had a character to fit it. Now, I most certainly do. The illusion curse is also something I’ll explain more eventually, however I only have a faint idea of it’s functions right now.
I have a problem.
