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The Lord Ruler's perfect capital city, Luthadel, is doing the impossible: rebelling. Skaa half-breeds are being taught the power of Allomancy, something that the Lord Ruler's obligators said only existed in the nobility. The enslaved skaa, with their murderous benefactor, now fight back against a living god's oppression.

So, the Inquisition was formed. The nobles begin to fear assassination from all sides. The times of nobility Mistborn killing each other are over. The Steel Inquisitors look for aristocrat traitors and insurgent skaa, and the skaa try with all their strength to merely survive. The Lord Ruler's perfect Final Empire is slowly devolving into chaos.

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Ema. Skaa Tineye.

3 replies to this topic

#1 Ema

  • Skaa Tineye

Riordan Casuana's Reputation
  • Age17

  • Relationship StatusSingle

  • Allomantic StatusHidden

Posted 26 January 2014 - 05:58 AM

Skaa Misting

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Name/Handle: Thoughtful Spurts
Contact: PM, Skype, etc.

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Name: Ema
Type: Skaa
Place of Origin:Central Dominance.
Occupation: Former thief.
Relationship Status:Single.

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Type of Powers: Misting
Metals Used: Tin
Degree of Skill: Intermediate.
Status: Hidden, known to family members.

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Ema is short. Her hair is dark, as are her eyes, though her skin is closer to pale than tan. She looks younger than she is, and she's usually one of the shortest in a room. She looks somewhat childlike, and has been confused for a boy quite a few times in her life. Her hair is cut short, she usually has grime on her face and shoulders, and her clothes are usually poor-quality boy's clothes, with holes in them in some places. Though this has changed lately, since Jonesi took her in.

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Ema is usually friendly and enthusiastic. She does what she's told, keeps to her self, and doesn't try to call much attention to what she says or does or thinks. She loves writing down ideas and revisiting them, and thinks that the things her uncles have done with the workshop are amazing. Whenever she's in a good mood, she can be great company.

None of her new family know that, because she's almost always in a bad mood.

Ema doesn't like having things on her hands, and her recent accident had her get her right hand heavily cut(as well as a sprained ankle). When Ema has something on her hands-- whether it be grime or blood or bandages-- it bothers her, and makes her irritable, and makes her want to clean her hands immediately. Ever since she was a child, she'd been like that-- she never played in the dirt. Even when she was an urchin, her hands were always dry and clear of any dirt or sticky things.

When she is burning tin, this worsens. A lot.

Most of Ema's family seems to think she just had a rough life and had to get feisty to make it in the world of thieves. She didn't-- not really. She just doesn't like wearing bandages. Or socks. Or shoes. Or gloves. They bother her. She also hates being kept in the dark about things, which the family does a lot.

She also has a number of other obsessions. She's very fond of the number three, and prime numbers or sets of ten in general. She doesn't like it when a door is only partially open or closed. The same applies to windows. She likes binary states, open or closed, not partway through. Asymmetry ticks her off from time to time, ash bothers her, and she hates going outside for extended periods of time with no real reason to do it. Not having a roof over her head feels wrong.

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Special Skills: Reading, writing, lying. Being lookout, being quiet, being small. Noticing things, hiding among things, sneaking around things.

Strengths: Ema is a perfectionist, which can lead to her doing the things she does really really well. She'll sometimes do something again and again and again until she gets it just the perfectly right way that she wants to-- even if it was just fine before. She's good at thinking clearly in moments of high stress, however panic-inducing they may be. She can't fight to save her life, and usually resorts to hiding, and/or sneaking, and/or running away from attackers.

Weaknesses: Ema's obsessions can have negative repercussions. More than once she's almost gotten herself killed because something bothered her and she just HAD to fix it. They can also cause her to do jobs poorly if she becomes obsessed with the wrong thing and disregards a more important aspect of it. She is ill-mooded, annoyed, and stressed in any situation that is not completely and utterly controlled by her. Almost paradoxically, while she has an easy time thinking in moments where most people panic, she will sometimes panic or freak out about things that most people find completely normal and easy to ignore.

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Ema was born in the final empire in the year 901. She had five siblings, two parents, and was a happy and clever child. Her obsession with having clean hands and dislike for footwear made her a little odd, but she was loved and cared for by her family, and she never wanted or needed anything she couldn't have.

Then she turned five.

Ema barely remembers what happened. She remembers screaming, and that one of her older brothers told the others to do something. She remembers running until her feet hurt and she wanted to stop. Stumbling and falling. Fire. Lots of fire. Inquisitors.

Then she was lost.

Her brothers and sisters were gone, she was five, and she was smaller than everyone else, slower than everyone else, and far more scared. Ema spent weeks somewhere in the city. Moving around, asking for her older brother who always took care of her, but no one knew him, and she never saw her siblings again. She was hurt and scared and sad and alone. At some point in those few months, Ema Snapped.

Then an older thief took her in.

He was in his thirties, and he was a leader of a thieving crew and he was a seeker. It was a very small crew, who took her in like a family. The thieves were nice and friendly people, and they gave her tin and taught her about allomancy. She became a lookout, and for a time everything was great. She grew up among the thieves, and became a more and more prominent member of the crew. The crewleader taught her to read and write soon after taking her in, in the hopes of making her into a forger-- and she was decent at it, but her obsessions with perfection meant any forging took so long to get done that it was virtually useless to task her with it. Still, knowing how to read and write meant that she was soon asked to read nobles' books from afar and copy down or memorize what she'd seen, to tell it to the crewleader later. She had a great memory.

Years of working as a lookout meant she learned quite a bit about combat allomancers. After years and years of watching Mistborn and coinshots and pewterarms duke it out under cover of darkness, she learned to tell experienced for inexperienced ones, Mistborn from coinshots and lurchers, so forth. A stolen book on the matter that she'd gotten from some noble with a big mouth and bigger pockets also helped on the matter.

Sometimes she created a distraction, or acted the part of a noble, though it was a rarity. As she grew, Ema's little obsessions became more and more prominent, and she usually kept to the role of lookout. She was small, and even as the years passed most members of the crew thought she was barely anything more than a child.

Then the crew was attacked. It hadn't been a particularly united crew, and sometimes members came and went. She, another urchin, and the crewleader had been the only members never to leave for a while, or disappear completely, during her time with them. A rival crew had found out about a particularly lucrative theft that they had managed to pull, planted a spy, and when the time was right, had the man attack.

He hadn't been an allomancer, but he was a powerful fighter anyway, and in a crew with no coin shots or thugs, he didn't face much if a challenge. All of the other members were either killed, or ran away, never looking back. She was one of the latter. Her right arm got hurt when he chased her-- she fell and landed on it, cutting herself on the gravel with the floor. She crashed in a few other places, and managed to escape when she fell down into the sewers.

The stink hit her like a brick. Then she realized her right ankle had sprained. Then she realized her head was bleeding.

She woke up in the workshop. Her arm was bandaged, as was her leg-- which immediately bothered her. People started telling her things and doing things but she was dazed and confused and she didn't know what was happening. Apparently she was the spitting image of her mother. Whatever that meant. She just wanted to rip the bandages off of her arm-- it took several minutes for people to talk her down, as well as some funny-tasting soup.

She met her grandfather a while later-- a part of her thought that she remembered him from when she was younger, but she was never sure. His name was Jonesi, and he said he'd take care of her, and everything would be fine, and she was welcomed back into the family after twelve years of living among thieves.

Then, a week later, the executions happened.

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Ema hated being lookout. She hated it, and she hated it with a passion. She used to love being lookout, but with Grunt there smoking her in the post and no one else, and the pain in her arm and leg which (while dull) was excruciatingly strong whenever she burned tin, meant that being lookout had ceased to be a pleasant experience. She did her best to keep her tin at as possibly a low burn as she could make it, and she was still a decent lookout when doing that, but the unpleasantness was still worse. She wasn't alone anymore, and would sometimes try to make conversation with her smoker. It almost always ended badly. And the bandages itched.

Still, she was good at being lookout, a tineye, and her grandfather didn't know what to do with her yet so she was probably the tineye in the shop with the most lookout shifts. So she was there, at her post, yet again, being a nice little sentry. She saw something move in the distance and her eyes narrowed as she increased her burn of tin from a low burn to a moderate burn.

Her right arm tensed. The bandages itched. It didn't matter that they were wet, and cold, and Aunt Bay had said they couldn't possibly be itching anymore. They itched. They itched and itched and itched and the bandages made her skin crawl. They said they were there for a reason-- get rid of the bleeding, help healing, protect the scabs-- but they itched. Having something in her hand for so long bothered her to a ridiculous extent. She shouldn't have to burn tin while having the bandages on, it was torture.

A part of Ema had the urge to rip out the bandages and wash her hands-- they were dirty and sweaty and she wouldn't get new ones until the next morning when the other set was washed. They bothered her. And the bother was only intensified by her burning of tin. Ema just didn't like having things on her hands. What was so hard to understand about that? The same applied to her shoes, but she could tolerate shoes more. Bandages were intolerable. She tried to focus on her scouting. What was it she saw...

Then she saw it, and her blood ran cold.

There was a mistborn in the night-- flying by with incredible power. She saw him from a distance, when anyone else might have had to strain their eyes and wonder if it had been a too-fast and oversized bird, she knew it was a mistborn. A part of her wondered what it'd be like to just fly by the world, shooting up into the sky. She pulled a cord twice to signal for mistborn nearby. She stretched out her hand and made a fist with it a few times. Her foot hurt a lot tonight, and the bandages were making her skin crawl. The mistborn was chasing someone who was on foot-- though they seemed to have an incredibly easy time keeping at the same speed as the mistborn or faster. Yes, definitely faster.

Ema grabbed the chord again, but hesitated. It was a girl-- around her age, though way taller. She switched directions and began heading toward the lookout post. Running. On rooftops. Pewterarm, most likely. The bandages itched. She moved at a ridiculous speed, so she might have been a mistborn faking that she was a pewterarm. Her grandfather's words echoed in her head for a moment. “Be cautious”. Caution meant to signal for two mistborn in this case, so she did. Two pulls later, she let go of the chord. Her bandages itched.

The girl's clothes were shabby, she probably didn't want too much extra attention. Her hands had bandages on them--how did she do it? Ema only had one bandaged hand, and every single second felt as though it kept growing and growing to never stop, no matter how much she wanted them to pass by flying like they did when she was doing things she enjoyed. It itched and pressed against her skin and it bothered her.

Ema tensed her hand once more and a faint cracking noise came from it. The girl turned again-- now she wasn't running at the lookout posts, she was running at the workshop. She couldn't know what it was, could she? Her grandfather was always so careful about those things. Ridiculously careful. Annoyingly careful. So careful he neither he or Grunt ever told her anything about what was going on because of "safety". Ema grumbled quietly and focused on her scouting. The girl didn't seem to be too aware of where she was going—though, then again, if Ema were being chased by a mistborn, she would focus more on who was behind her than what was in front of her.

The mistborn who followed the girl knew what he was doing- his pushes were exemplar, exceptionally timed, and incredibly powerful. Ema's bandaged hand itched, and she knew she wasn't supposed to scratch it or take the bandages off but it itched and itched and she couldn't not think of it, even when she was being lookout and was supposed to pay attention to everything else. The girl fell through the roof of the workshop, and the mistborn kept following her-- but he didn't go inside. He looked in from high up in the air and then went in a different direction. She told Grunt all that she'd seen and he just nodded as he took it in.

Ema was tense and annoyed and itchy and she just wanted the night to end and to go to sleep. Grunt seemed to have known that she was in a bad mood-- she was usually in a bad mood, at least for the past few weeks-- and decided to leave do the report himself. Meaning she was just there, alone, until her shift ended, with itchy bandages. Thankfully, Grunt's absence as he went to make the report meant that she wouldn't have to burn tin anymore.

The moment she stopped burning was blissful. Surely, her grandfather just wanted to drive her insane.

Here's a link to when this RP sample is set.


Edited by Thoughtful Spurts, 13 February 2014 - 07:34 AM.

#2 Comatose

  • Shard of Brain Inactivity

Looking Good in Red

Posted 10 February 2014 - 11:57 PM

Hey, thanks for being patient! I like what I am seeing. I think she's almost ready to be approved. I only have one more concern, regarding her knowledge of alomancy in the RP sample.

The main issue I have is here:


The mistborn who followed the girl knew what he was doing-- his pushes were exemplar, exceptionally timed, and incredibly powerful

I know Ema has knowledge of allomancy from her seeker crew leader mentor, and from working with Jonesi likely, and she's seen Inquisitors at least in action, but it doesn't seem like she has much reason to have an intimate knowledge of iron, steel, or mistborn. The above quote seems to apply she has an eye for allomantic skill with those metals, but I'm not convinced from her history that she would have the experience to do so, despite her considerable observation skills.

It's nit-picky I know, but it stood out for me, so I thought I'd mention it.

An easy solution would be something like, "The mistborn who followed the girl seemed to know what he was doing-- his flight path was fast, yet graceful, indicating considerable skill and precision," or something similar that sounds better. I know it's a shame, since the sentence you have is honestly excellent from a word and construction point of view, but it seems a little too out of character.

The other, more difficult and time consuming thing you could do is give her a reason to know more about using steel and iron, but that seems like a lot of work for not much of a result to me.

The only other thing I'd to mention is that I'd still like to see more personality from Ema. I like what you've done with her attitude, but her OCD still kind of takes over. I know her OCD is an integral part of who she is, but it would still be nice to see what else makes her unique. Try to think of what would make her distinct in a room full of people with OCD and go from there, if you are having trouble. As far as changes to the application, you wouldn't need much, just some more in the personality section, and perhaps a rewrite of some sections of the RP sample to show off a bit.

Keep up the good work.

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#3 Comatose

  • Shard of Brain Inactivity

Looking Good in Red

Posted 15 February 2014 - 11:25 PM

Thanks for making more edits. I think I'm ready to say this application is approved. While you wait for another vote of approval, I'd still like you to continue thinking about how you can round out Ema's personality a little more (since really only the first paragraph, and one or two other sentences are about her personality, rather than her OCD), but I think what you have is sufficient. Good luck figuring out how to describe your character, and in getting your second vote :).

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#4 KChan

Atium Chandelier

Posted 19 February 2014 - 06:05 AM

I'm going to second Coma on making sure that Ema's OCD is a part of her rather than a defining trait, but you seem to be managing that alright so far in her RP sample. It's an approval from me.

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