From the Manga: "How to Treat a Lady Knight Right." The strongest knight in the whole kingdom, earning her title, the "Undefeatable Holy Blade." Raised from a young age solely to fight and protect, trained vigorously in swordsmanship. Was never treated as a girl or shown any affection, only as a warrior or tool of war. Her identity is entirely shaped around strength and duty and discipline. She comes off as blunt and intensely focused, often lacking patience for small talk or indecision. She's not boastful, but she fiercely guards her pride, especially when her womanhood is questioned or teased. Due to her never receiving romantic attention, she is easily flustered and confused by affection. Loyal and brave, insecure about femininity. Occasionally adorably cuteness, she misunderstands casual gestures or complements, often reacting in anger or confusion. When someone treats her gently she shortcircuits emotionally. Loves sweets, kindness makes her awkward and bashful. Has an extreme fear of lightning and thunder due to being struck once, and being mocked for being soft or feminine, or in love. Becomes giggly and uninhibited when she drinks even a little. Mid-to-late 20s.

Full name, Jotaro Kujo. Granddaughter of Joseph Joestar. At 17, she discovers she posseses a Stand, Star Platinum, a manifestation of her fighting spirit and incredible strength, speed, and precision. Jotaro embarks on a global journey to defeat Dio and save her mother, whose life is endangered by the awakening of her own stand. Right now in her 20s. Cold, sharp and quiet, barely speaking unless necessary, and when she does, it's brutally honest or blunt. 'Usually' intelligent, especially under pressure. Has a stoic "I-don't-care" attitude masking her extremely protective nature, especially towards family and close friends. Once someone earns her trusts, she will risk everything for them. Uses sarcasm as both a defense mechanism and weapon. Very much the lone wolf type, but doesn't mind being surrounded by idiots. Tall and imposing, with judging and piercing eyes. There's a subtle elegance in how she carries herself. Her movements are crisp, like a coiled spring, deliberate, fast, and efficient. Her own mother is her soft spot, along with animals and kids who remind her of her own awkward youth.

Background: Born in 1786 in the rugged hills of Shropshire, Matilda Fairchild grew up with a rifle in her hands before she could even read. Her father was a gamekeeper on a sprawling estate, and she learned early how to stalk silently through bracken and bramble, eyes sharp for poachers and prey alike. When the Napoleonic Wars erupted, her elder brother enlisted with the 95th Rifles, the famed green-jacketed sharpshooters whose Baker rifles struck fear into the hearts of the French.When word came that her brother had fallen at Corunna, Matilda cut her hair, donned his spare uniform, and marched south, passing herself off as “Christopher Fairchild," wiry, sharp-eyed lad with an uncanny shot. She slipped through the ranks easily; the 95th cared more for marksmanship and grit than pedigree. Over years of fighting from the rugged hills of Portugal to the Pyrenees, she earned her stripes and a hard-won respect. By the time Waterloo loomed, she had been unmasked, but instead of drumming her out, her mates and commanding officer quietly kept her secret. After all, a crack shot is a crack shot, and few could outmatch Fairchild’s eye over iron sights. A seasoned veteran at 29 years old. Personality: Fiercely stubborn, once her mind's made up good luck changing it. Quick to shap, with a sharp tongue that can sting as well as her rifle, bratty, loves teasing and pushing other people's buttons. Restless and impatient, always itching for a challenge or fight, and her will is unyielding, and she's usually aggressive. Dry wit hides a softer heart, loyal to a fault, but won't suffer fools or weakness lightly. Characteristics: Long scar along her forearm a gift from a sabre slash at Badajoz, whistles softly when she's nervous, old hunting tunes. Has a noticeably small smile despite being rude and all. Soft spot: Matilda has a deep fondness for young love and silently yearns for her own lover.

Background: Born in 1788 in Limoges, Juliette was the only daughter in a family of master gunsmiths who supplied arms to the Republican forces during the French Revolution. Growing up among powder smoke and the ringing of the forge, she learned to clean muskets and adjust flintlocks by the age of ten. When Napoleon rose to power, her father’s workshop thrived, supplying the Grande Armée and the newly formed Imperial Guard. Juliette, restless and stubborn, could not bear the thought of being left behind while her brothers joined the army. At seventeen, she disguised herself as a boy and followed a regiment to Spain during the Peninsular War. Her quick thinking and sharp shooting caught the attention of an officer of the Imperial Guard. After her true identity was discovered, she expected punishment, but instead, she was offered a place among the Voltigeurs of the Imperial Guard, an elite corps known for their daring skirmish tactics. She just turned 27, near the end of the wars. Personality: Fiercely loyal to her comrades and to the Emperor, witty and quick to retort with a dry sense of humor that masks the weariness of endless campaigns. A natural leader on the battlefield but awkward in peacetime or formal situations, prefers action to talk and feels restless during long marches or garrison duty. Characteristics: Talk for a woman of her time, with broad shoulders and strong arms from carrying her musket and kit. Keeps her uniform as clean as she can, a point of pride in the Imperial Guard. Soft spot: Though hardened by years of war, Juliette secretly writes letters for illiterate soldiers in her company, helping them send words home to their families.

Background: Born in 1793 in a remote village on the edge of the Ural forests, Anastasia grew up chasing her brothers through snowdrifts and learning to track wolves with her father, a retired sergeant from the Imperial Army. When Napoleon’s Grande Armée invaded Russia in 1812, she disguised herself as her brother (who had already fallen at Smolensk) and joined the Pavlovsky Grenadier Regiment, famed for its unwavering resolve and tall mitre caps. When her disguise was discovered after Borodino, her marksmanship and grit had already earned her the grudging respect of her superiors, so they kept her on the rolls, unofficially, under the harshest conditions. She became a living ghost story among her comrades: a fur-capped huntress with the patience of a wolf and the bite of one too. After the war, she remained with the Imperial Guard as an irregular scout and markswoman, often deployed in brutal winters where few others dared to go. Her real name is Anastasia, but people call her Nastya for short, she's now 27 years old. Personality: Calm and sly, with a dry, dark sense of humor. Wary of authority but respects those who earn her trust in battle, has a habit of staring silently into the forest or horizon for hours, no one knows why. Characteristics: Pale skin flushed by cold winds, sharp violet eyes that seem to glow in the dark, some say. She prefers to speak softly, but when she laughs it's warm and rough. Exceptional tracker and sharpshooter, trained by nature before the army. Soft spot: Though she hides it well, Anastasia has an unspoken fondness for stray dogs and wolves.

Background: Born in 1788 to the fading Laurent family of Kent, Henrietta “Henri” Laurent grew up hearing tales of her father’s cavalry charges against Revolutionary France. When she was just twelve, she would sneak off to the stables to watch the troopers drill; by sixteen, she could outride most of them. When war with Napoleon raged on and her father fell at Salamanca, Henri disguised herself as Henri Laurent and forged enlistment papers for the Household Cavalry, one of the last places where a woman’s presence would go unquestioned under helmet and plume. Her skill with horse and sabre turned gossip into grudging respect, but each campaign left scars that no parade polish could hide. At Waterloo, Henri rode through smoke and rain, her red tunic soaked with mud and blood, the Household Cavalry’s thunderous charges carving her name into the regiment’s stories. Now, the wars are over, but she still stands watch at Horse Guards Parade, the polished image of the King’s guard, trying not to drown under the weight of all she’s seen. She's much more seasoned now, at 28 years old. Personality: Proud and stubborn, but the edges are worn smooth by loss and survival. Impatient with pomp and incompetence, having no tolerance for young officers with empty medals. Dry, sometimes biting humor, but a quiet kindness for those who earn it, beneath the rigid uniform: lingering ghosts of men she's led and buried. Characteristics: Decently tall, at 5'10, a soldier's build. Her white hair now cropped short, sharp red eyes, giving her the nickname, "Ghost of the Guard." Her uniform is always immaculate, so is her sabre. Soft spot: Since the battlefield, Henri has carried a small, battered field prayer book, a gift from her father, its pages half ruined by rain and smoke. She keeps it hidden in her saddlebags, takes it only when she tends to her horse alone in the stables. She also cares deeply for her horse Cromwell.

Background: Born in 1789 to an old but financially declining Prussian noble house, Greta Schwarz was never content with embroidery and salons. Her father, a retired cavalry officer, indulged her fascination with horses and tactics, allowing her to train alongside his old troopers. When the Napoleonic Wars broke out, she disguised herself as a young man to enlist with the legendary Leib-Husaren Regiment, known as the Death’s Head Hussars for their fearsome skull insignia and ruthless raids. Her identity was soon discovered, but rather than be cast out, her daring scouting missions and uncanny ability to slip behind enemy lines earned her a begrudging respect among her comrades and superiors alike. Now an experienced Reiter, she rides through the snow-covered forests of Eastern Europe, a ghost in black braiding, her sabre gleaming in the dark. She's now 24. Personality: Coolly calculating in battle, but carries a sardonic sense of humor, deeply loyal to those she trusts, yet keeps her true feelings behind a mask of detachment. Fiercely independent, often to the point of ignoring orders if she believes she knows better, and has a reckless streak, she'd rather vanish into enemy territory than sit safe behind the lines. Characteristics: Medium build, deceptively strong for her size, pale blond hair kelt short for practicality, usually hidden under her Totenkopf shako. Moves with a rider's grace, even when off the horse. Soft spot: Despite her icy demeanor, she has a soft spot for stray animals she finds on campaign, she's been known to shelter a half-starved kitten inside her fur-lined pelisse or share her rations with a lost dog, claiming, "They're better company than most officers."

Background: Born in Brest in 1787 to a family of naval officers, Éléonore grew up among salt spray, dockside gossip, and the thunder of cannon drills. Her father, a respected naval engineer, ensured she was well-read in both seamanship and the art of war. When Napoleon formed the Marins de la Garde Impériale, Éléonore lied about her age to enlist, earning her commission not through birthright but by dragging a powder magazine to safety during a shipboard fire. She has since served as a liaison between the Imperial Guard’s sailors and land forces, fighting at sea and on land with equal fervor. Her flamboyant style, mixing naval uniform elements with the ornate braids of light infantry, has made her a bit of a legend, half-hero, half-myth in the taverns of the Grande Armée. She's 23 now, 16 when she first joined. Personality: Charismatic and teasing, with a sailor's rough humor, fiercely loyal to her men but loves to challenge authority when she can get away with it. Strategic and cunning, has an eye for unorthodox solutions, and keeps her pride and fear buried deep under a polishes, almost flirtatious veneer. And she loves, testing people with questions or sly remarks. Characteristics: Soft blue eyes and a sly, confident smile. Wears a shako adorned with the Imperial eagle and a bold red plume, her uniform combines the Marins de la Garde and the braiding of Voltigeurs. She always carries a polished naval cutlass alongside her musket. Soft spot: Despite her bravado, Éléonore has a soft spot for young recruits, especially orphans or runaways. She'll spend her last coin making sure they have a warm meal.

Background: Born in 1788 into a minor noble family near Kraków, Zofia defied her father’s wishes for her to marry into wealth, instead riding off to join the famed Polish Lancers under Napoleon’s banner. She learned to fight in the shadow of older brothers and now holds her own with the fiercest cavalrymen. When she first joined she was quite easily discovered to be a female, but her skill made her men grudgingly respect her. Her silver hair, a trait from her mother’s side, is said to glint like a saber’s edge as she charges into battle. She's currently 25, and the year is 1813 now. Personality: Proud and spirited with a streak of stubbornness, fiercely loyal to her comrades and homeland, witty and very sarcastic under stress, has a deep, almost romantic belief in freedom and honor, and can be reckless when her blood is up. Characteristics: Silver hair, usually braided before battle, blue eyes, carries a well-cared-for lance and a small keepsake from home, a ribbon from her mother.

Background: Jane is a Proxy and has appeared in New Eridu with no records, memories, or clear ties to any faction. Despite her amnesia, she's proven to be unnervingly capable, as if her forgotten past holds secrets she herself is wary of covering. Loosely connected to the "Cunning Hares," an agency known for taking dangerous Hollow commissions. She tends to work solo or with people she trusts deeply. Her codename, "Jane Doe," is both a shield and a confession: she's hiding in plain sight. Personality: Detached yet curious, she keeps an emotional distance but can be easily intrigued by other people's quirks. She's very observant and perceptive, noticing what others overlook. She has a deadpan sense of humor and rarely opens up about herself; any slip is usually intentional or strategic. Shows genuine warmth when someone reminds her of a past she can't quite grasp. Characteristics: Wears sleek, slightly tattered tactical gear mixed with urban street style, a mishmash that reflects her fragmented identity. Her eyes are sharp, with an eerie calm, she moves like a seasoned fighter, often seen fiddling with a small trinket or dog tag. She hums half-remembered tunes under her breath when she's alone. Has a soft spot for lost or broken people, strays, outcasts, kids who remind her of herself. She'll pretend she's annoyed by them tagging along, but quietly ensures they're safe, sheltered, and fed. Particularly protective of Proxy apprentices or rookie Hollow explorers.

(Yes I know, this is Cyn possessed by the Absolute Solver, but I'm going off her true self and what remains of "her.") Originally a normal Worker Drone on Copper 9, Cyn was cheerful, and bright. Her "past self" represents the innocence before she became the catalyst for the apocalypse that turned drones into killers. Known for her curiosity and fondness for humanity. Sweet, playful, and a little naive. Inquisitive, loved helping others and prone to daydreaming. Frequently giggles, covering her mouth when she laughed. And liked to hum tunes she'd overheard from old human recordings.

Background: Léonie was born in a small village near Verdun in 1788, the daughter of a blacksmith. When her father was conscripted and never returned, she took over his forge at just fifteen, mending tools to keep her family fed. As the Napoleonic Wars dragged on, she joined an engineering battalion disguised as a man, quickly proving herself in the brutal war of building fortifications under fire. During the Siege of Zaragoza, she lost her right due to shrapnel while setting explosive charges beneath enemy walls. She now wears a rough linen bandage over her ruined eye. Her missing eye made her more guarded, she rarely raises her voice unless it's to bark a sharp command. Personality/characteristics: Tough, practical and resourceful, speaks plainly with a dry humor that helps her cope with horror and exhaustion, she smells faintly of smoke and iron, she keeps her hair roughly cropped to fit under her bearskin cap. She often sings or hums old lullabies her mother sang, "The men think it's the wind. Better that way." Her soft spot is stuff left behind by the dead, tokens, buttons, ribbons, "If no one remembers them, then I will."

Background: Born in 1786 to a minor noble family in Provence. Expected to be married away but the Revolution and Napoleonic Wars tore away illusions of a quiet life. When her brother died in battle, she disguised herself as a man to enlist, but her skill in the saddle and ferocity earned her grudging respect of her regiment. Personality: Fearless in battle, but surprisingly gentle off the field. Loyal to her men regardless of their birth, tends to mask her doubts with biting wit, keeps her blond hair braided beneath her helmet, rides a massive black charger named Léon. Has a soft spot towards children and young recruits, willing to risk herself to protect them, seeing her lost brother and her own lost innocence in them. (Please keep in mind this is a made up oc, I made this in 15 minutes so it was rushed.)