Hello, lovelies! After the Hogwarts edition of Profile Text, I have decided to make a background history code that matches with it. Indeed, I have made 4 versions that related to the Hogwarts houses as well! The code has a ‘newspaper’ vibe which I believe you can use it for article code too ♥ Simply changing the picture can make a huge difference ;)
Do hover your mouse to the Houses for the codes!
Gryffindor | Hufflepuff | Ravenclaw | Slytherin
Phantom Quartz of course has a childish personality but more of a traumatic past. Phantom Quartz are extremely limited and are pampered for the power they’re capable of. When Phantom quartz had to fight in the war. They were the main focus. The unfortunate problem for dealing with this amazing gems is. When they die/shatter, the souls of killed gems they had in their gem is released in an unstoppable force. Due to the calmness of being safe in the gem of phantom quartz being gone. My phantom quartz is defective, But nothing is affected but her appearance. Her sisters always loved her and never anything to here. But they sadly pasted, All powers of a phantom quartz is shadow manipulation. But mines has a extremely different way from her powers from other phantom quartz. Hers is originates from stress, the more stress the more powerful/chaotic the shadows get. Remember the shadows aren't hers. But the shadows of pasted gems who are no longer with us.. Some say that all phantom quartzes fused, to make PD for blue every once in awhile to relief her.
How often have the kingdoms gone to war? Would it be possible to resolve issues in more peaceful matters like sports and athletic tournaments? (This is of course barring the uniqueness of the source of the current conflict)
“Bleh, if we go over the course of history and formation of our kingdoms, we’ll be here for ages trying to go over it all. The in-fighting between our respective borders alone goes for a while. My family wasn’t even the original crown family, if we go back some generations.”
“To my knowledge, my family has always been on the throne. Though, perhaps I should revisit my archives to check on that. Historical embellishments do happen, after all. Regardless, we’ve had territory disputes for control before, though this was well before my time. Grass Fields and the Empire weren’t always allies either.”
“No, even just a couple of generations back, we weren’t aligned. But, Empoleon and I tend to be quite agreeable, and were friendly even when we were younger. We may not be the closest of all, but between the four major kingdoms, I do believe we get along the best. It’s not often, but we have had some events for fun between our kingdoms!”
“Quite honestly, I can’t account for the other two on their relationship, but I don’t believe they have the rapport that Nidoking and I share. After all, we did trade knights with one another. And though I may have overstepped boundaries a few times on the matter, I did my best to help with his…past.”
“Yeah, it was a bit much, but looking back, you were nice. And now I get you back by constantly teasing you!”
CONTEMPLATION - if you could wake up one morning and everything in your life was perfect, what would that look like?
Elliott used to think he knew the answer to that.
Growing up, the answer had seemed so simple. The end of war. He’d never known anything different, and so it had seemed too inconceivable a world to ever actually be, but –
He’d hoped, all the same.
Then one by one, his three brothers had enlisted with the Militia, and one by one, they hadn’t come home. Their small home, where once upon a time he’d had to work so hard in order to even be heard over all the noise, suddenly silent. He never saw his mother cry – she never did, not around him, anyway – but she smiled significantly less after that third MIA notification.
So, the answer remained the same. The end of war – which would surely mean his brothers would come home then, given that missing didn’t mean dead after all – and to see his mother smile again.
But sometimes, the impossible really did happen. The pilot Jack Cooper and his Titan destroyed the planet Typhon, thus finally bringing peace across the Systems, after decades of conflict. People had taken to the streets in celebration on every planet all over the Frontier – Elliott had been working the bar when the news came through, the holo-screens dotted around the room interrupted by emergency broadcasts. The whole room had fallen into a stunned silence, before erupting in vast variations of emotion: some people had cheered, some had wept, most had done both, whilst some just sat frozen in their chair, unable to actually comprehend what had just happened. Elliott hadn’t even looked for his manager – rules didn’t apply on a day like today. He’d simply whipped the bar towel from off his shoulder and onto the bar, before taking off and out of the room like a shot, sprinting the whole way home.
His mother had been there, on the couch in front of the TV, wearing her oil-stained shirt and slacks, smudges of dirt on her face, which meant she must have come straight from her workshop. She didn’t cry in front of Elliott, but she was crying then when she turned and looked at him, but smiling too.
And as Elliott had knelt in front of her, and pulled her against him in a hug, he had thought: finally.
Everything was going to be okay.
Neither of them had expected to hear anything in the coming week, or even the one after that, things were too hectic, what with everyone trying to figure out with what a life without conflict even looked like. But as the days went by, as other families in the city began to receive communications from their loved ones they’d believed lost to the war, as soldiers began to return home to daily celebrations, Elliott and his mother had stood by their door and watched, wordless. He’d put a reassuring arm around her shoulders, and she would lean into him for just a second, her eyes closed – before straightening herself back up, pulling her long dark hair back into a bun and announcing she was heading back to the workshop.
So the war had ended, and still, Elliott was not happy.
A new answer seemed to present itself, however, when he began to hear talk of the Apex Games. It had been at the bar the first time he heard of them: he would overhear the odd comment here and there at first, but then it soon seemed like it was all anyone who came to the Lounge talked about. There were plenty of people still in Solace, much like himself and his mother, to whom the end of the war hadn’t exactly spelled the end of their sorrows, and watching their faces light up as they chatted excitedly over the Games themselves, urged Elliott to switch the holo-screens to the channels airing them or even just interviews with the stars of the Games themselves, well.
Those smiles. That shared joy in something. A thing that brought people together the way the Games seemed to, a thing to focus on, outside of the lingering grief in the aftermath of the war.
It stuck with him.
He’d followed the Games religiously, watching them from the Lounge or at home, chatting with patrons over them, collecting newspapers and magazines and pouring over them at length. Elliott wasn’t exactly naturally confident, but the Games seemed like something he might actually be good at. His brothers had taught him how to handle a gun, he practiced down the range regularly, and he could see just how much of an advantage the custom holo-pilot technology his mother and he had been working on could provide in the ring. No one else knew the Pilot technology to cloak, and that combined with the holo-decoys, well… Distraction was a powerful tactic.
But he couldn’t leave his mother childless. They took precautions in the Games to prevent it, he knew, but people still died. The respawn system wasn’t flawless, nor could it protect you from everything. And so he kept his hopes and dreams to himself, and kept on working on their designs with his mother in his free time, whilst working overtime in the bar to make ends meet.
Then the day came when she handed him over their custom tech, and told him to follow his dreams. Smiling as she did so.
His mother did not cry around Elliott. But Elliott cried then, as he held her in his arms and thanked her.
And promised to make her proud.
He had thought he might do well in the Games, but he could have never anticipated the reception that he ended up getting. He’d been right – his custom holo-tech designs had quite literally bamboozled his opponents, and he’d even managed to win in his very first game. Achieved Legend status after his first season, something Path and Makoa had told him was practically unheard of and that he should be proud of.
And he’d smiled and he’d been pleased, whilst at the same time, being all too aware of the dull ache gnawing away behind his chest.
Because it had been his dream, and he’d achieved it.
And he still wasn’t happy.
What do you do, then, when you achieve your goals, your dreams, your aspirations, and still in reality, you’re deeply unhappy?
Lying awake at night, his breath coming uneven, digging his fingers into the sheets of his bed as he stared up at the ceiling and tried to not let the loneliness consume him – he couldn’t help but ask himself this.
And hate that he already knew the answer.
Because the answer wasn’t possible. Happiness, peace of mind, a perfect life: the ugly truth was that none of it was possible anymore.
He closes his eyes, lays a hand over his rapidly beating heart, and allows himself for just a second, to pretend.
It’s so simple. It’s a dinner table at his own home – him and his partner’s, someone who was actually able to put up with his bullshit, his neuroses, the endless list of issues that plagued him wherever he might go. The table is full, his brothers all returned, safe albeit not entirely unharmed from the war. They tease him for his various scars, his Legend status, but it’s all in jest. They’re serving their favourite: mom’s old recipe, passed onto him, garlic butter baked pork chops, and the wine is flowing. His four dogs nudge at their laps as they eat, staring up pleadingly at the attendees – and dutifully rewarded with the odd scrap because really, who could say no to those faces?
His partner is holding his hand on the table, seated beside him. They give it a reassuring squeeze every so often.
Whenever Elliott looks at his mother, she is smiling.
Reality washes back over him, and the cavernous ache in his chest threatens to swallow him more than ever.
He will not sleep tonight.
CANDLE LIGHT - are you an indecisive person?
Elliott had had to stop and wonder this himself, once, when a journalist had sent him along one of those ridiculous ‘Get To Know Your Favourite Legend!’ questionnaires for one of the trashier spreads. Only a number of the Legends ever bothered with these ones, but Elliott always indulged them.
The fact he’s wavering between both options probably means he is, right? This very struggle was evidence enough of that.
Albeit, as he gnaws on the end of his pen, he considers the other times in his life he’s had to make difficult decisions. There had been many, but the one that stands out ahead of them all is the decision to enter the Games. Yes, it had only been after her encouragement to follow his own path, and to do what he loved but still – it hadn’t made leaving any harder. It had taken days to reconcile his guilt of leaving, in spite of her reassurances, with the resolve that yes, the Games would bring fame and wealth but – it served a greater purpose. Gave the people left empty in the aftermath of the conflict something to rally around, no matter which ‘side’ they had been on during the war.
He’d grappled with it back and forth before making his decision with what felt…right. That guilt again. Was attempting to give the people of Solace to be someone they could be – hopefully – proud of, the way they were of Makoa Gibraltar – more noble than staying with his mother, not leaving her all by herself?
He chews so hard on the end of the pen that it cracks, and he curses as the ink spills into his mouth, spitting out mouthfuls of blue to the side. When he glances back down at the page, it appears he’d marked both ‘decisive’ and ‘indecisive’ without even realising at some stage during his ruminating.
He sighs and rubs a smudge of ink away from the corner of his mouth.
Guess that answered that, then.
SHOOTING STAR - who is someone you trust to help you make the right decisions?
Ajay Che was someone who everyone seemed to universally agree that despite her young age, when she gave advice? You took it. Even when delivered with as much dry sarcasm as she could possibly muster, you knew that it came from the best possible place. Even Caustic listened when she chided him upon the durability of his NOX gas canisters – sure, the larger man had glared down at her, but she had met his gaze fiercely right back – until he had flushed, and stomped away, muttering something to himself about how he’d ‘needed to check on the cylinder storage anyway’, whilst Ajay just sternly watched him leave, arms folded over her chest. Ell had been grinning along watching the whole time. But then her gaze fell on him, and –
“And you, Elliott – don’t think I don’t realise you haven’t been working on those breathing exercises I gave you.”
Elliott flinched as she marched towards him.
You were supposed to take Ajay’s advice. And lord help you if you didn’t.
**
Having followed the Games from the get-go, Elliott had always found himself intrigued by Makoa Gibraltar. The same age as him, from Solace as well, a SARAS worker and local darling of his planet, well. It was hard not to notice him.
Handsome too, but whatever.
Upon arriving at the Games, Path had been all too eager to introduce the pair of them, and Makoa’s immediate warmth and kindness towards a newcomer had been…kind of overwhelming.
They had gotten along from almost the very start, his easy-going nature something of a salve to Ell’s frayed nerves and anxieties. Whenever he was around Gibraltar, it was like the ongoing flurry of panic that never seemed to cease in his chest just…eased, a little. More than a little. Something about his kind smile, soft words, complete and utter ease in just existing, it just –
Took the edges, off the rest of the world, that bit more.
Makoa was one of the rare people to have seen Elliott’s full-blown panic attacks – truly, Elliott’s anxiety had only worsened from the embarrassment fearing what Makoa must have been thinking about him, how stupid he must have seemed, how embarrassing this was in front of a co-worker he liked and admired so much and –
A steady hand on his shoulder. His face filling his vision, expression full of calm, no judgement or disgust or even fear, just – utter calm.
“I’m here, Ell,” he’d told him. “Try ‘n match my breathing. Inhale, exhale. Just like that, yeah? Let’s give it a try.”
Elliott had apologised afterwards, only for Makoa to not even wave him off and tell him it was all good. But to look at him and just smile, that Gibraltar smile but – warmer still, than he’d ever seen before. Something that just seemed to be just for Elliott alone.
“Ain’t nothing to apologise for, brother. Nothing to be ashamed of. We all need a helping hand every now and then. That’s what we’re here for, right? Got each other’s backs.”
He’d clapped Elliott on the shoulder again, flashed him one last smile.
“I’m here for you, Ell. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”
Elliott had stayed there, sitting on his HQ bunk for a long while after, staring at nothing in particular.
Accepting acceptance was not something he was particularly good at.
But maybe Makoa had a point.
They had each other’s backs. Inside, and apparently, outside the Ring.
**
He’d already known that the cheerful MRVN he’d encountered in the Lounge about a year ago was in the Games by the time he entered – of course he did, he followed the coverage of the Games religiously. They’d even gone on and achieved Legend status, albeit, going by the interviews with him, he was as of yet unsuccessful in actually finding that Creator of his.
It had been a shock, of course, to see him on the screens at first. He’d suggested the Games yeah, but to see someone actually follow his advice? That was…new. Entirely new, but nice. To know a person out there could value his own suggestions enough to alter their entire life course so as to follow them.
The MRVN he met once he entered the Games – going by ‘Pathfinder’ now – was slightly different, albeit undoubtedly much the same robot from that first encounter. A little more uh, gleeful about his passion for bloodsport, but at heart, the same over-enthusiastic, excitable robot that had wandered into the Lounge that night with an insatiable urge to quiz Elliott relentlessly on multiple topics, no matter how busy Elliott had been at the bar.
Finally, Elliott had passed on his own dream to the MRVN: hey, if he wanted to find someone and he’d no idea where to even begin, why not make himself as well known as he possibly could? The MRVN had chirped endearingly, thanking him profusely before bounding out of the room.
And taken his advice. As of yet, he hadn’t yet achieved his overall goal in finding the person who had made him but –
He was here now, as well Elliott, and he undeniably had a family now.
The Legends all were, in their own strange way.
It’s driven home, some nights, like those where they’re all slumped around tired in the rec room following a match, drinking beers and exchanging stories from the day’s Game.
It had been one of the tougher battles for Elliott that day, and he’d taken more than his fair share of knock downs throughout the match before ultimately ending up third after about his fifth Peacekeeper to the head had knocked him down for good. He shouldn’t really be drinking – Ajay and Makoa had already scolded him, but you know, hadn’t actually chased him out yet and besides, the worst possible thing would be to be left confined to his bed all alone tonight.
And so he just sips his beer, hazily listening to the laughter and chatter of his friends, content in the middle of the sofa, feeling Makoa’s broad arm thrown over the back, whilst Path excitedly exclaimed from his other side. It was warm. Comforting. A sense of belonging it felt like hed’ lacked for an awfully long time, outside of the safety of his own home.
He must have dozed off at some stage, because the next thing he remembers is the sensation of….running? Without actually moving his own limbs? He blinks, wondering if this is some sort of lucid dream and –
Ah.
A red optic overhead, the feel of cool, metal limbs cradling him, the faint glow of his display screen. Right. He must have passed out at some point.
“Path?” he asks blearily.
“You were tired, friend!” Path responds in his typical cheery manner, “I thought it best to aid you to bed! You did your best in the Ring today, but! I believe you are suffering from fatigue as a result of the multiple wounds you have endured over the last 12 hours! According to my analysis, I believe rest if the best cure in this instance!”
Elliott sighs, lets his head fall against the MRVN’s display screen gently, his eyelids fluttering shut already. He shuffles a little closer, trying to make himself that bit snugger.
“S’ok, Path,” he murmurs, feeling sleep take him again, “I trust your advice.”
He’s already asleep before he can hear if the robot even replies.
4. Who is someone you’ve cut out of your life, or wanted too, and why?
In her early days there was a Soldier named Zay who she found a friend in while she was only able to roam the halls of Shinra. He was young and timid at the time but as time went on and he began to see what was happening in Shinra and the science department he wanted out and he wanted to save Isrieal to get her out of it too.
She knew it was already too late for her, she knew that she’d be chased after and caught. It was one night on the roof where Zay was trying to convince her to come with him that she told him to leave, told him to run and fought off the guards that had followed them so he could make his escape.
She never tried to make contact with him again in fear that it would just lure him back to a dangerous life.
Kip is part of a species known as the Xobryht. A race that lives on warm, temperate planets where plant life flourishes excessively.
The Xobryht vary in size from as small as a rabbit up to as big as a bear. Despite the different sizes all members of the species have milky white eyes, animal features and one or more horns. A greeting among them is to tap their horns together, a gesture to them that means they are among friends. ‘May the sun shine on you’ is their form of a farewell.
They can walk on two legs or on four for ease of movement. The way they communicate is by channeling magic through their horn and projecting their voice inside the others head. Wary of meeting new species they use their magic to read the auras of others to find out if they are friend or foe. Magic can be channeled through their horn for teleporting if they need to make a quick escape from danger. However this spell leaves them exhausted and they must rest for a few hours.
Kip is one of the few that have ever left the planet the Xobryht live on. After getting distracted and chasing a butterfly, they found themselves on a cargo ship that had landed near the forest where they lived. Deciding to make the best of the situation they set out to explore the other planets and learn as much as they could before they return home. So far they have been to a few planets and spent most of their time speaking to the bugs from those worlds to learn more about the planet they lived on.
Kip is a kind soul and while they aren’t very big and get mistaken for a child or a pet a lot, they have immensely enjoyed every second of their journey.
Did you know that the jerkass doctor who Doyle briefly shared a practice in "The Patient's Eye" was actually based on a real person? Apparently the two had a falling out because he read Doyle's mail behind his back...
Oh, indeed, the jerkass doctor is based on a guy with the pretty-sounding name George Turnavine Budd (as my friend likes to say “more like Turnavine Butt, amirite?”). He really was Doyle’s friend for a while until Doyle became fed up with the guy’s messed up character and mind, and later caricatured him in the novel The Stark Munro Letters. The real Doyle sure knew a few colourful types. :DD
What Information Scour I Need On Do Individiual Background History Records On People To Your Part Using The Internet
Many garner hyperlinks to neighborhood and authorized legion pages the difference? Beyond measure locations bring big-name and need for guidance an entry sand-colored association fee now permitting you take i also once these folks are incomplete. Some are only links up to no cost locations. If one has the stretch and inclination, which a all near relation don't evoke to, right here are a few simple ideas for what you wish in adulate as to personal records aureateness pinpointing and locating a particular person contracted difficult and bold conjecture, removed more efficiently.<\p>
For a no cost people look: Try courtroom itemize or police appraisals that state, counties and localities can post against their websites. More and more the federal government agencies don't have a problem scanning an arrest report, that may involve a drivers validate variety or various important data It's Remarkable how often a social safety the bottom line is written on an sedate doc in an amount flanch notation, authorized paperwork are considered to be everyday public facts. Individuals meld handles, aliases and who knows what else, it depends on the form they adopt and the rules about the peg of files, unless that most regarding the outmoded, Every little thing is advance to perish. Yet another supply open up which will be definetely property registries and deeds on quarter at the geo-targeted courthouse, merited know, there are folks involved, these folks might be lazy or not give it to extra attention to what particulars are on it.<\p>
Being as how an Residentiary indagate: This is univocal, jails or sheriff's departments powder room bring accusation arrest warrants or mess of inhabitants listings appropriate on their sites. Individuals which don't, will predominantly highlight practically everything at the time of the telephone or near email. To pass judgment individuals content, search your preferred look locomotive in agreement with a mere statement in prices enjoy "Jefferson County Jail" for confinement xanthic county jail house detective enquiry in the chime in you wish. As a rule you won't beget every little thingumajig ditto which the misdemeanist is secured up or wished for, barring you can check dates to sway if these menage still remain in a sure thing minor.<\p>
A lapse tip for now: If inner self wish into locate line cost-free, Consider! It's cognizable which you influence frustrated, disappointed or feel synthetic sending ennoble. Not community at large dominion be found the approaches I described, but if superego is a dependable seize and usually is the named sidelight subliminal self may castigation other producers for, if it's demonstrably worth a little time and effort so that sweetmeat most money, offer it a shot. It's safe to say that over half of the country has quelque chose on it online, somewhere.<\p>
The moral of this presence is doing so: Don't pay any individual for open public information momentarily if you start to get the time so docimasy it yourself first. Indeed, it is irritating. We get it done every day and it may be extant a pain, even so anyway you are in the money, it's fulfilling and the reward is reconnecting using friends and family or getting improve for the situation.<\p>
