Rai marche avec Maya à travers les halls d'acier, et vers une cuisine plutôt battue. Elle observe l'étrange visiteur avec des yeux légèrement élargis, et écoute sa voix fraîche de très près.
Ses cheveux... c'est du frêne blanc... et son visage est tellement incliné. Elle a l'air forte et régale. Pure.
Malgré les vêtements sombres de Maya, elle se distingue assez nettement par rapport à l'atmosphère sombre et assez sérieuse de la base. Tout semblait prendre une teinte noircie, comme le film perpétuel de suie souvent trouvé dans une forge. Parfois, Rai se sent comme si elle devenait suie. Une ombre d'existence, et encore moins une belle fille comme Maya.
"Pas de soucis... Il y a en effet une guerre. C'est un peu compliqué, comme la plupart des guerres le sont. Vous voyez, nous sommes une faction rebelle. Nous sommes les enfants des ombres, ceux qui sont morts dans l'utérus et qui sont nés entre les dimensions. D'une manière ou d'une autre, nous avons été mis à profit et forcés de nous battre dans une guerre en tant que soldats contre notre volonté. La raison en est que nous sommes des êtres qui n'existent pas techniquement dans le monde dans lequel nous avons été forcés de nous battre, donc nous laisser diriger des missions suicidaires n'était pas un problème. Tu ne peux pas perdre des actifs que tu n'as jamais eu à commencer par... et bien, Fuma a refusé de le laisser continuer. Nous nous sommes levés sous son commandement, mais pas tous. Cette base... c'est les restes de sa résistance contre les forces qui nous ont asservis. On pourrait dire qu'il y a deux guerres, à cet égard. Celui entre les petits gouvernements à l'intérieur de la dimension, et celui entre les forces coupables et Fuma."
Alors que Rai dit qu'elle parle de faire une boisson fumée qui sent le feu d'un camp. Il s'échauffe comme du thé et réchauffe Maya dès qu'elle prend la tasse.
"Voilà. C'est mon préféré personnel, calme les nerfs et assouplit l'esprit."
Malgré le sujet lourd et les souvenirs évidemment difficiles, Rai clignote un sourire éclatant à Maya.
Name: Fuma
Age: 18
Archon of:Fire

Original art of Fuma. Feel free to ask questions, I'll have more art to post as the story progresses.
Physical Attributes
Apearance:
Fuma is 5 foot 8 inches, a bit lanky despite his smallish stature. He is a bit younger than the others, but his countenance is a mystery.
Fuma wears a mask with three black bars on his chin, and big double circles for his eyes. The white background remains blank, and the mask itself is extremely hard. No one is sure of it's material, but it never comes off. It's odd ways allow him to eat and breathe just fine, and it remains a mystery of how this is possible. Duma can even convey emotions through expression, as the mask's markings change with his facial gestures.
(I'm an artist so I wouldn't mind posting some character sketches of him).
Physical Strengths:
He could easily lift Maya, but probably not Marcus. Despite his small build he can move quite fast. His pain threshold is inhumanly high, for some reason.
Physical Weaknesses:
Fuma is prone to having tight lungs, his chest burns if he runs too much. His speed doesn't lack power or skill, but accuracy tends to be a bit of a problem... His greatest weakness is probably how ticklish he is.
Mental Attributes
Personality:
Fuma is your typical angsty teen. Lovable, frustrating, and most of all... strong willed. He likes to laugh off his pain with a joke and a brave smile, sacrificing his own feelings to keep those around him smiling and motivated. This of course can effectively work against him. One may feel as if they know him inside and out, only to find that he's a deeper mystery than before. Kids, right?
His attachments to comrades do run deep however, despite what it may seem.
Likes:
Fuma likes cherries, puns, and flying any kind of aircraft within his reach. He likes to flirt, but it's just a front. He likes to be protected, but not so much that he can't return the favor.
Dislikes:
He doesn't like his orange hair, liars. He DESPISES anyone who mistreats others, so his sense of justice is delicate. He also dislikes being discriminated according to his age. Being useless, forgotten, or discarded.
Phobias:
Losing his mask. The majority of Fuma's frequent nightmares stem from his mask. It cracking, falling off, being taken, or simply disintegrating. His mask is like a safety wall, in many* ways.
He also fears losing a comrade due to his own lack of strength. Fuma's personality leans very much toward self loathing, but he'll never tell you that.
Background
Fuma has lost his memory. He understands that he is different, but he isn't sure why. He prefers to brood on these questions at night when he should be sleeping, and in his dreams when his broken memories form into new unseen horrors. Fuma recognizes the violent murders of his parents, but the shadowy their of his childhood remains unknown, and he continues to ignore it.
When he wasn't drowning in the void that amnesia brings, Fuma continued the ritual of maintaining his training and wearing his mask. Sometimes, he noticed, it refused come off against his will. This brought to life fragmented memories of his childhood, scratching and pulling at the mask...
Without proper memory and timelines, it's hard to establish an effective background. I suppose one could assume that his background is what you see. His personality, his emotions, and his determination.
Combat Information
Typical form of combat:
Being the archon of fire, Fuma can perform close and long range styles of combat. The personal nature of his style tend to leave vivid imprints on his mental health, being a youngster, so he prefers* long range.
Preferred Team Role:
Any sort of airstrike is welcome in Fuma's book, and he is impeccable backup. His ability to read a fight is innate.
Weapon:
Fuma carries a thick black sword, two-handed or single-handed. This sword is broad enough to act as a shield, but long enough to maintain grace and balance. The capabilities of the sword remain to be seen...
Unique Equipment:
Mask/Shadow Cloak (cloak is more of his angsty tendencies bubbling up)