Jacie Morralles

Name: Jacie Morralles
Age: 17
Exaltation/Caste: Solar - Zenith Caste
Affiliations: The South, Paragon, Freedom Fighters



Bio:

In the First Age, there was a specific Solar who was neither king nor general. He roved from place to place, dealing justice, rousting outlaws, doing good and dispensing needed violence with a martial art of his own devising that would go on to be one of the longest-lived in Creation. Most notably, his name was a mystery, the quest was it's own reward, and he never established himself as an individual to keep himself defined as an ideal of righteous violence.

In the Age of Sorrows, his current incarnation only adheres to half of the above. 

There is a city in the South called Paragon where there is no police force. There is no crime, no guards, and everyone goes to bed on time. This is due to a powerful First Age Artifact wielded by the mortal ruler of Paragon, who calls himself the Perfect and maintains an ironclad level or organization - his scepter allows him to brand those who live in and travel through his city, and any who carry this brand can be inflicted with brain-melting pain at any moment, for breaking the rules imposed by the Perfect... or simply killed at his whim. 

Jacie's family, horse breeders and ranchers of modest means, lived just outside the boundaries of Paragon for most of her life. Her father, like all those who did business in Paragon, carried the brand of the Perfect as a reminder not to cause trouble as the cost of being able to enter Paragon. It was a necessary evil, a small indignity and a constant reminder of the Perfect's reach and power. The weight of that brand weighed on Jacie's father over the years, long after the fight had gone out of him. It hadn't gone out of Jacie, however, who found like-minded comrades among other local tribes and nomads. They formed a loose coalition, a resistance of unbranded young fighters with the goal of breaking into the Perfect's alabaster palace and throwing him from his throne.  

They never stood a chance. One by one, the would-be liberators were hunted down and killed, frightened off, captured and branded or otherwise dealt with. After months of furtive attacks, hardship, and living on garbage and filthy water, Jacie was among the last of the group - truthfully, she was cornered in a barn with the last of the resistance before they'd even made a single step against the Perfect. The 'volunteers' who'd cornered them lit the barn on fire, and Jacie's comrades resigned themselves to death by fire rather than dying at the hands of their family, former allies, and other people who had no choice but to obey. The resistance was all but over.

Until Jacie burst out of the barn with a rifle in hand, her hair and clothing literally aflame. If she could not offer true freedom to the assembled attackers, she would grant as many of them the liberation of death as an alternative to life as a slave. Pistols rang in the night, smoke filled the air, swords were drawn - and shot through several times, half-burnt to death, Jacie ran from her meager cover with her empty rifle in hand in a final act of defiance, only to be confronted by her father himself. Deep in the Perfect's control, he was ready to add insult to fatal injury.

She did not hesitate. She ran him through on her bayonet. Death was better than unending control.

Though it was the middle of the night, the farm suddenly was lit as though in midday. The burning barn offered little light, through all the smoke. The crackling of mighty flames filled Jacie's ears, the eternal roar of battle rising in her heart, and her strength was renewed. Though still heavily wounded, her last stand had resulted in Exaltation; the full, shining symbol of the noon sun blazed on her brow, a signal flare visible for miles, blinding her enemies.  

The freshly-ascended Solar would have unflinchingly continued to fight with her bayonet in spite of her (frankly, catastrophic) wounds until overcome, but fate had intervened weeks ago and called her bonded Lunar mate to her. An enormous wolf burst through the burning grass and subdued the defiant young woman before she could fight a city to the death, carrying her far from even the Perfect's many eyes, and tending to her wounds. This woman - Cynis Shairre - would become her constant companion and diligent protector, the calm and nurturing counterpart to her fiery passion. They were joined by a young Dynast, who had been sent to observe the Perfect's activities and had watched Jacie's would-be death at the hands of her oppressor. Although the Tepet was (reasonably) cautious to side with Anathema, Jacie slowly won her over - if only because the Perfect had made the mistake of sending Jacie's own father to finish her off, and if a Dynast respects nothing else, they respect the bonds of family. Of a similar age, a quick friendship was established between Jacie and herself.

The Tepet was a trained and talented young general. After weeks of failed attempts to gather a new force to assault Paragon, she and Shairre managed to convince a determined Jacie to not throw her life away attacking the Prefect with her newfound power. They set out for Chiaroscuro because reasons, and there Shairre and Jacie parted ways with the Terrestrial after an attack by Immaculate monks convinced the Tepet that continuing to overtly travel together would destroy any potential career she had. Over the coming months alone together, Jacie and Shairre grew close and the wiser Lunar educated her relatively green young mate on things she needed to know; her place in the world and the dangers inherent to it, for example. They shared a somewhat furtive and often tempestuous romance, but developed a deep sense of trust as they overcame several challenges together - sand golems, feral nomads, wild spirits.

Shortly after leaving Paragon, Jacie had acquired a pair of firewands and grew to prefer them to conventional firearms, though it was not long before she replaced them with her expensive Plasma-Tongued Repeaters - a parting gift from her Tepet friend. Although she didn't have wealth or wonders to return the gift, it should be noted that the Piss-Red Legion has enjoyed remarkably little difficulty in routing the revolutionaries and freedom fighters that intermittently crop up in the South. Their reputation must frighten them off.

For nearly a year, Jacie has traveled the South with Shairre by her side. Although Paragon is too big a target for her to tackle yet, rumor and myth has cropped up surrounding the mysterious young woman who drifts into smaller towns atop a massive grey destrier covered in silver markings, whipping the common folk into a frenzied riot to break free of oppressive rulers, tyrants, and abusive Realm businessmen. Her words incite riots, her calls to action light flames in the hearts of those who suffer under the heel of the opulent and powerful, her revolvers burn those who'd take advantage of the Southern people to cinders without quarter or mercy.

There is no room for second chances, when it comes to Jacie's brand of justice. Let outlaws and despots beware, the Unnamed, Righteous Devil walks Creation once again.


Appearance:

Jacie is a small, fiery young woman with a huge mouth, and a bigger reputation. She is impatient and nearly constantly in motion - drumming her fingers and tapping her feet when standing still, fussing constantly. As with most people of mixed, Southern heritage, she has dark hair and eyes, tanned skin, and a pronounced accent that can seem almost like shouting to those not used to it.
As the majority of her life has been spent in the desert, she prefers light and flowing clothing to thicker protection, and typically wears a wide-brimmed leather hat to keep the sun out of her eyes or offer token identity concealment. Although, if the massive artifact guns she wears on her hips don't give away who she is, chances are she's somewhere she isn't known. When stealth is absolutely necessary - which is only when Shairre insists on a low profile - she stashes one or both in a satchel.  

In combat, she transitions from flowing motion to absolute stillness in the space within heartbeats - drawing her repeaters with frightening alacrity, and burying her opponents under a hail of purifying, caustic flames. 


Potential Plot Hooks:

-Jacie is a career freedom fighter, which is a fancy way of saying that she's absolutely broke and homeless. She doesn't bother to stick around once she's 'cleaned up' a town, preferring to liberate and evacuate... leaving cleaning up and restructuring to the people she's just freed. Those who aren't aligned with the Realm - who certianly aren't happy about her - take umbridge with this sloppy method of purification. In simple terms, Jacie either directly or indirectly murders the leadership of a town if she doesn't believe it's kind enough to the common people, without a chance for reform or parley. There are some who think this is a tad extreme, and would like to see her stopped for reasons that vary from considering her evil, to pre-emptive self defense.

-It's no secret that Jacie plans on ripping Paragon apart as soon as she thinks she's able. Given what trouble the Realm had with Yurgen Kaneko establishing a Solar-led empire in the North, they're keen to stop Jacie from accomplishing this task - once she's gathered enough power to destroy Paragon, an ally of the Realm, there's no telling how many would-be revolutionaries across Creation might try and follow the example she's set. 

-Despite her formidable reputation as a revolutionary, Jacie is far from invincible or even particularly mighty. She's still barely a grown woman with only self-trained ability in ranged combat, and a great deal of the mayhem she causes is due to her charms giving her the ability to incite riots to accomplish her goals by proxy. The only reason she's survived this long is that her nomadic lifestyle makes her hard to corner by organized searching. An individual or similarly small group would have much better luck tracking her down. 


Character Sheet - 30BP, 0XP

Past RPs: