Le chef de la formation de scoutisme balance sa jambe sur le vélo et s'écrase à travers le gravier tranchant. À chaque pas, on lui rappelle les cicatrices maulées qui ravagent son corps. Survivre à un accident dans ce terrain est presque pire que la mort, car la surface affamée était assez habile à dépouiller de malheureux trébucheurs de chair. Secouant les souvenirs désagréables, il soupire et regarde autour de lui.
Communiquant à travers son écran holographique avancé dans son casque...
"Tu vois quelque chose? Mieux vaut être sûr que désolé."
Son second commandant coupe son moteur et répond.
"Négatif. On n'est pas encore arrivés sur le site de l'accident. Comme toujours."
Étonnamment, leur chef d'anneau a des capacités directionnelles extrêmement médiocres. Malgré cela, sa paranoïa combinée et des quantités extrêmes de chance finissent par donner à leur équipe les statistiques de succès les plus élevées et les officiers de renseignement les plus précieux. C'est vraiment une énigme, que personne ne s'interroge.
Le leader spécule à haute voix.
"Hm... Cela pourrait être une autre instance comme le commandant Selah-"
"ACHOO......"
"Avez-vous entendu... ce que je crois avoir entendu?" Le plus grand des quatre, et le chef, tourne vers la direction de l'éternuement. Il regarde la poussière tourbillonner et commence à s'installer derrière une grande pierre noire. Il demande à son groupe de tomber tranquille et de viser son arme de manière lâche, se croquant lentement sur le côté du rocher. Deux des autres hommes blindés font la même chose vers le côté adverse.
Il agit pour qu'ils tiennent leur position et respire profondément, acceptant calmement les petites quantités d'adrénaline que son corps est à peine capable de produire.
"Reveal vous-même, nous vous avons entouré. S'il te plaît, ne rends pas ça dur, n'importe quelle commotion va alerter l'ennemi à notre position. Nous vivons tous, ou aucun d'entre nous ne le fait." Il garde son arme entraînée sur une sortie possible, mais son doigt sur la gâchette.
Eh bien, me voilà de nouveau. Nez à nez avec un spectacle de monstre qui s'est envolé au milieu de notre quad, sans invitation. Au moins, ils ne se sont pas crashés dans notre base. Pas encore. Peut-être que ce ne sera pas un hostile...
Mais je ne vais pas prendre de risque...
Les cicatrices sur le dos et la gorge racontent une histoire de rupture de confiance et de missions qui ont mal tourné.
Mais pas cette fois.
Pas cette fois.
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)