One day there was an accident. While exploring a broken down mako reactor one day Isrieal fell in and nearly drowned in the green pool. It was Professor Hojo's men that found her and were instructed to bring her back to him. She had no prior memories of her life once she had awoken and he did what he could to cure the poisoning and save her but at a price. She was his now.
He used her to re-create Jenova in another body, a reincarnation of sorts. She became an alien hybrid of the Jenova species with unique psychic powers and the ability of transformations. She was designed as a weapon, a protector for himself. She was truly perfect. A success. Something that could even outwit him.
It was over the years that she became more than just an experiment. She manipulated her way to the top, learning from and taking some of his own traits. She became his assistant in the Science Department and all issues went to her before they even crossed his paths. She also assisted him in experiments and gained those of her own that she worked on. Her own science however is more on the fringe side. Immortality, parallel dimensions and resurrection for a few examples.
Even if she breaks free of him one day and gains her own life, she is still loyal to him and would never see her creator fall to his death.
Past - Present - Future
Homicidal Tendencies
Traits: Manipulative, Vengeful, Fortitude, Passion
Disorders: Borderline, Stockholm Syndrome, Delusional, God Complex
Addictions: Sedative Injections
Likes: Power, Persistence, Loyalty
Dislikes: Failure, Weakness, Infidelity
Quirks: She's just a bit crazy but all the best people are.
I don't care if you're offended
The Short and Sweet of It
Legal
NAME: Isrieal
NICKNAMES: Izzy, X
ALIASES: Project X
DATE OF BIRTH: ???
PLACE OF BIRTH: Midgar
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Shinra Manor/Labs
Physical
ETHNICITY: Female Alien
HAIR COLOR: Moonwhite
EYE COLOR: Piercing Blue
HEIGHT: 5'4
WEIGHT: 120lbs
BIRTHMARKS/SCARS: Tattoo of an X on her wrist
Family
MOTHER: Input info
FATHER: Input info
SISTER(S): Input info
BROTHER(S): Input info
Other Family: Input info
Relationships
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Straight
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: CURRENT RELATIONSHIP(S): PAST RELATIONSHIP(S):
Education
High School Input Info
College Input Info
Major Input Info
Degree Input Info
Employment
OCCUPATION: Bio-Genetics/Lead Assistant
JOB DESCRIPTION: Assistant to head of ShinRa Science Dept
EMPLOYER: Hojo
SKILLSET: Genetic Manipulation, Virology, Infectious Diseases, Fringe
The city speaks
A heart caught beating
The air alive with a pulse repeating
Indistinct
Ill-Defined
Uncontrolled
Unconfined
The beauty of a hybrid is that it is a new creation entirely and often exceeds its origin species. It understands the nature of both worlds with combined intellect. Though often it is uncontrollable...and takes to its own course.
isrieal to aerith : " do you honestly think this is easy for me? "
she wants to answer , yet all that comes forward is silence. aerith sits behind glass encasement , eyeing isrieal with an anger that solely ( usually ) is only reserved for hojo. her digits tighten into balls of fists , so much so that her knuckles go white. the fabric of her dress is taken hold of and she's sure to have caused crescent indentations into her palms!
" . . . i think it is. " speaking boldly , aerith finds she doesn't care anymore. it's hojo she can't give emotion to , but isrieal? that came easy.
" you're standing exactly where he stands and you want me to believe otherwise? "
When those heavy doors to the laboratory whispered open, he felt a surge of something indefinable pulse through his weary veins. It was neither fear nor relief but rather an acute awareness of change, a shift in the stagnant air of his prison. As the figure moved closer, Vincent instinctively pressed closer to the glass, his crimson eyes straining to pierce through the liquid and gloom from the corridor behind, which cast long shadows across the cold, clinical surface of the lab. Yet alongside this nascent desire for contact lurked a shadow of doubt, a whisper of caution born from his time in this abyss. Who was this person, and what did their arrival portend for him?
In the dim light, his gaze remained fixed upon the newcomer, a silent sentinel watching from behind a glassy barrier. His heart, which he had thought numbed by his ordeal, began to beat with a rhythm that felt like the fluttering of caged wings against the confines of his chest. Every movement of this mysterious figure, every shift in the air as they approached, added a note to the symphony of his reawakening senses.
But yet, as this figure came close, he remained motionless, his expression one of guarded curiosity.
As she navigated the controls to liberate him from his liquid coffin, his gaze never wavered from her form. Her actions were marked by cautious determination, and one was not to blame her for this. Through her actions, the liquid that had held him suspended was gone.
Fingers quivering with exertion, he reached up to remove the mask covering the lower portion of his mouth and nose. It had been his guardian and warden, and removing those straps and connections felt like an odyssey. Once free of the device, it hung beside him, suspended and discarded. There was a stumble as he came forward to press his forehead against the cold glass, and this was the first sensation he felt in what seemed like an eternity. It grounded him in the swirling fog of his half-catatonic state.
"Who are you?"
When she finally spoke, asking for his name, it felt like a clarion call cutting through the fog of his amnesia. "Vincent," his consciousness remained on the teetering break of tangible and the ethereal as he clung desperately to the only solitary anchor he knew: his name.
This figure in her ethereal beauty and attire from what seemed a time long since passed appeared to him as a specter from a story he half-remembered. She was an enigma, straddling the line between the spectral and corporeal, and it stirred a curiosity within him. Her movements, her concern, even the muted timber of her voice had reached him though through a dense fog; each word was a thread weaving through the darkness, binding him to a world he thought he had lost.
of course it was all making sense now . why a face like her own was not meant for a place like this . before the television above the bar cut to only static , the one channel they could manage to get . . . shinra . tifa's stomach tightened . with barret not home & marlene in the back , it left her in a pretty sticky situation . tifa was still , by all means , new to all of this . the bar had barely been open under her management for a few months , her debt to the slums now cleared . their faction of AVALANCHE was nearly miniscule in the grand scheme of things - but already , the face of shinra's lead scientist was here ?
tifa could only give her the benefit of the doubt , but then again , that was the innocence in her . still holding on , if not desperately . the one thing she was good at was remaining unphased . the art of illusion . her smile remained warm , though her eye watchful .
' well , the best way to prove it's the best is to show it to you , right ? ' there was enough people in the bar , soon people would start to catch on once they realized . a woman of this sort of beauty ? that wouldn't take long . tifa began to mixt the drink , hues flickering as a few people began to leave . making her way back to her with the glass , the woman chuckled .
' fair . working something like this sure beats running a bao cart . ' placing it down , she carefully watching her .
Since the woman began speaking, Farren narrowed his eyes at her. Not from the exhaustion, but from her off-putting attitude. Although, he couldn't really be surprised; for someone to work with someone like Hojo, you either simply followed orders like everyone else, or you were just as sick and frustrating to deal with. Which was the vibe he was getting from this woman.
He watched her closely, listening to all the insults she threw his way. Sure, she wasn't entirely wrong, but it felt much more degrading coming from her. 'Who is this b****?' was all he could think, but kept his mouth shut, letting her have the floor. Clearly, there were a lot of egomaniacs that worked for Shinra. Though, him included.
Still keeping his single carmine eye on her, he took his cue to sit on the chair opposite her as she took her place at the desk. Running a hand through his disheveled black strands of hair that were sticking to his face from the stress sweat, he clicked his tongue. "Y'know, fer a pretty lady, y' sure got a helluva f***in' mouth."
A sigh.
"But not here fer talkin' smack. Hojo got me on some... medication for my problem."
He raised a hand, gesturing as if he had a syringe in his hand and aiming it as hit neck.
"Specifically fer me. Pro'lly why it's also got a stupid side effect, t' be honest."
It was clear that his body was giving out. His previously raised arm now fell to his side, his other hand that rested on his thigh that was originally balled into a fist was now lax over his knee. He was generally on top of picking up his 'medication', but had spent far too many weeks on missions and certain operations, of which he was completely awake for the entire time. Sure, a special drug could make him function normally without sleep, but it didn't mean avoiding the inevitable fatigue that would catch up with him if he wasn't careful.
Farren was good at his job, there was no denying that. If he had to find information, he got it done. If he had to execute someone, or some people, he did it (despite that kind of work always unnecessarily resulting in a bloodbath). The few times he was sent out to protect the President or other Turk members, he did so without fail. However, he lacked heavily in remembering to take care of himself. Hojo's warnings about consuming too much alcohol in between missed doses which rendered the serum less effective, Reno asking him every other week if he 'got his s***' before leaving on a mission, doctors to encourage him to stop the drinking to stop the nightmare —all of these things he ignored. Maybe deep down it was an excuse to see her again, even if the memories were painful. But he alson hated seeing them, he hated thinking about them, about her.
"Sounds like you work close with that creep. Guess I don't need to feel sorry fer ya since ya seem like you ...enjoy what you do."
He tossed his head back exhaled a frustrated groan, which seemed to be the extent of the energy he had left in his body. Not many had the surprise, or in this case, the amusement of seeing the 'Mad Dog of Shinra' in the state he was in.
"But hey, 's not like I don't enjoy my own job, so who'm I to judge, yeah?"
It wasn't of big concern to him, but now he didn't know if he'd rather deal with her or Hojo.
Night off and some drinks with the boys will always do you some good.
Except when you're a Turk named Farren, who was in the unfortunate position of having imbibed too much liquor for his body to handle. Not for fear of alcohol poisoning or a dreadful hangover the next morning, but rather the fear of falling asleep. Cursed with ever-present night terrors for unforeseeable amounts of time. And despite this being a persistent issue, it was one he occasionally ignored.
But luckily for him, he had a custom made serum that prevented him from sleeping but allowed him to function normally, body and mind, so long as he kept the rest of himself in good health. 'Crafty sons'a b****es, I'll give 'em that.'
Which he still didn't exactly do considering he was far too lean to be considered 'healthy', with his diet consisting of mostly cigarettes and a pastry or two once a week. But his excuse was his size helped him stay agile since he relied heavily on his speed to enforce his attacks. That, and regular food or meals were not something he was interested in. Took up too much time and made him drowsy. 'You think you'd say that about your drinking' is what the doctors would argue, but he always brushed it off, retorting that he 'alwaysmade it work somehow'.
Walking back to the Shinra Building, he patted his breast pocket for his serum, now feeling the fatigue hit him. However, much to his dismay, he realized he was out. Now panic began to set in. His sluggish pacing gradually became more hurried, now feeling the impending doom of his nightmares hovering over him.
How he desperately longed for the pleasant memories of him and his late wife, but could imagine her at her final moments...on the rooftop...the gunshot ringing in the air...
Farren cried out a frenzied scream as his pacing turned into running, taking the path that led to the underground with easier access. He needed to get to the labs and fast.
Find Hojo. Get the serum.
Find Hojo. Get the serum.
After pushing his way through some of Shinra's employees (who were either working late or starting late), shouting obscenities, 'get th' f*** outta my way', 'move or I'm movin' ya', things of that nature. Reaching the main entrance to the lab, he grabbed the first person in a lab coat that he saw, much to their horror considering Farren was already quite the sight to behold with the eyepatch and manic expression on his face that looked more worse for wear considering his predicament.
"Where th' f*** is that nasty a** glasses-wearin' b****!?"
"Y-You mean...P-Professor Hojo?"
"Yeah, that piece o' s***... Where is he?"
"H-He um..."
"C'mon! I need answers, lady! Now!" He hollered at her, hands gripping her arms and shaking the poor woman who was clearly too stunned to speak. Farren let out an exasperated groan and pushed her aside. "Forget it, I'll go find him m'self", muttered in a tone that was the exact opposite of how he was just react not more than a minute ago, leaving the scientist in disarray.
Storming down through a series of hallways and stairwells, he finally arrived at the room he typically met Hojo in to receive his 'stay-awake-serum'. Tapping his card against the authorization panel, the door slid open but much to his dismay, Hojo was absent.
But there was someone else there.
Someone he hadn't seen before.
Maybe she would know where to find him.
""Ey you. Miss, uhh..." Somehow still made an attempt at being cordial considering he didn't know the woman, but his exhaustion was getting the better of him. Eyes half- lidded, body movements lethargic—he was close to passing out any mniute now.
"Look... Y'seen Hojo anywhere? Need 'im... Need 'im real bad..."
To silence all the voices in my head I'd have to forget every word you said I've been at war with myself from the start Prayed for light and I was only given dark Blocking the pain from my chest But some days are hard to forget Looking for reasons and failing now
In the picturesque town of Nibelheim, under the serene watch of Mt. Nibel's towering presence, Vincent Valentine found himself embarking on an assignment. The assignment had seemed straightforward enough for him as a skilled member of the Turks: provide security for the top-secret Shinra research happening at the secluded manor in Nibelheim. It was a mission shrouded in mystery, far removed from the bustling streets of Midgar. The manor was a place of cold stone and colder secrets, a world away from the life Vincent had known. It was there he had met her—Lucrecia Crescent, a brilliant and beautiful scientist whose presence brought an unexpected warmth to the chill of the manor's halls. As days turned into weeks, Vincent found himself drawn to her, not just for her intellect, but for the kindness that lurked beneath her scientific facade.
Their relationship was initially built on shared moments of solitude amidst the relentless pursuit of science which soon blossomed into something deeper. Vincent, for the first time in a long time, allowed himself to feel, to open up to the thought of love. But love, as he would painfully learn, was as cruel as it was beautiful. When he finally mustered the courage to propose, laying bare his heart before her, Lucrecia rejected him, and it was a blow from which he would never fully recover. Her reasons had remained her own, shrouded in personal torment and secrets Vincent could not penetrate.
The anguish of unrequited love was a silent specter that haunted Vincent, yet it paled in comparison to the torment of watching Lucrecia gravitate towards Hojo—a man Vincent knew to be the very embodiment of unethical science and unchecked ambition. It was a union that defied understanding, a cruel twist of fate that forced Vincent to witness the woman he loved align herself with a monster.
Vincent's role as protector had become a torturous test of endurance. He stood by as a silent guardian. His objections towards the dark experiments were whispers lost in the wind, he alone was powerless against the tide of Shinra's ambition. But when the experiments came to threaten the life of Lucrecia's unborn child, Vincent could remain silent no longer. His protest was an act of desperate defiance, a final stand for the woman he loved and the innocence that had yet to be born.
Hojo, ever the master of his twisted domain, saw Vincent's interference as nothing more than a nuisance to be eradicated. The bullet that had torn through Vincent's body was not just the end of his protest. Vincent's fate thereafter was sealed not with a burial, but with the cold curiosity of a scientist devoid of empathy.
The experiments that followed thereafter were a blur of agony and half-conscious torment. Vincent existed in a liminal space between life and death, a subject of Hojo's cruel whims. It was in these darkest moments, as he teetered on the brink of oblivion, that Chaos was introduced—a desperate measure by Lucrecia to save a life that Hojo deemed valuable only as a test subject.
Consciousness crept upon Vincent like a reluctant dawn, his senses awakening to an environment as alien as the new life force that now coursed through his veins. Panic was the first to greet him, a primal, suffocating terror as his eyes flickered open to the sight of a confined tube, his body suspended in an odd, viscous liquid that seemed to press in on him from all sides. The walls of his glass prison were clouded, distorting the world beyond into mere shadows and muffled sounds.
Confusion waged war within his mind, a tumultuous sea of thoughts clashing against the stark reality of his situation. He had been shot, a cold betrayal by the man whose madness knew no bounds. Death had been a certainty, an end he had faced with the thought of silent resignation. Yet here he was, painfully alive, every nerve ending aflame with suffering that defied understanding. The agony was all-encompassing, a relentless tide that battered against the shores of his consciousness, threatening to drag him back into the depths of oblivion.
Why was he awake?
What cruel twist of fate had denied him the peace of death only to thrust him into this new hell?
With a mixture of agony and confusion, a muffled cry escaped him, but the sound that escaped him was unrecognizable to his ears as what was driven from his lungs was not entirely human.
it was easy to spot a top-sider , especially in these parts . amongst the waves of dirty , dulled , & washed out appearances — someone as dolled-up as the woman stepping into the bar clearly came from somewhere far from the grime of this place . unless , well , you were property of corneo himself ; though , to be unaccompanied meant this was never the option . still , it was enough to throw the young barmaid off her sorts a bit , still greeting her with a warm grin .
' please , sit wherever you'd like ! i'll be with you just a moment ! ' barely over nineteen & the newly acquired owner of the seventh heaven . the slums had done its best to dwindle down that same hopeful part of herself that she managed to desperately cling to . it had come close , awfully close — yet , amongst the patrons , the young woman found herself feeling more & more comfortable .
she was almost envious of the woman , eyeing her sense of fashion & feeling nearly underdressed in comparison . when picking her signature attire of a sports bra & skort — perhaps , in a sense , it was am homage to nibelheim . to the fleeting moments when life made sense & moments felt rewarding . it wasn't honest work , but exposed skin kept the gil flowing & her tip jaw full .
wiping off the bar counter , she made her way to the stranger . if she was top-side , why would she come here? surely , she could have found something more to her taste there ? still , she knew to be on alert . . in case this was nothing more than a shinra loyalty test . ' what can i get'ya ? '
/// ↳ his name's farren, a former ex-turk in the black ops division. brought on and placed on "hosue arrest" during the latter part of president shinra's leadership after trying to kill him, reinstated two years later when rufus took over. he's an oc i've had for a little over a decade, and the longest character in general that i've rp'd as (that wasn't rufus or jade from tales of the abyss lol), so he's got a whooole fleshed out story. i could go on and on but this comment would be so much longer than it needs to be. if you wanna read up on why he's called the "mad dog of shinra", would be happy to have youhere too!
Without looking up from his desk and the paperwork he was working on, the young president simply responded, "Depends. Do you have an appointment?" His lips pursed out briefly realizing he misspelled a word and crossed it out.
/// ↳ hey hey, yeah i'm really down for whatever. we can keep playing around with ↑that if you wanna, or we can discuss something. i've read up on your character and ngl i'm also kinda interested in seeing how her and my oc would interact since they're both kinda nuts lol but if you're more interested in rufus, i get that haha ///
Half Psychotic, Sick, Hypnotic
In the picturesque town of Nibelheim, under the serene watch of Mt. Nibel's towering presence, Vincent Valentine found himself embarking on an assignment. The assignment had seemed straightforward enough for him as a skilled member of the Turks: provide security for the top-secret Shinra research happening at the secluded manor in Nibelheim. It was a mission shrouded in mystery, far removed from the bustling streets of Midgar. The manor was a place of cold stone and colder secrets, a world away from the life Vincent had known. It was there he had met her—Lucrecia Crescent, a brilliant and beautiful scientist whose presence brought an unexpected warmth to the chill of the manor's halls. As days turned into weeks, Vincent found himself drawn to her, not just for her intellect, but for the kindness that lurked beneath her scientific facade.
