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Vermeil

Sniper — Marksman
Attacks aerial enemies first
  • R122
  • Ranged
  • DPS
/ 70
[Codename] Vermeil
[Gender] Female
[Combat Experience] 2 years
[Place of Birth] Unknown
[Date of Birth] June 25
[Race] Vulpo
[Height] 153cm
[Infection Status]
Originium crystals visible on skin, confirmed Infected by medical examination.
[Physical Strength] Normal
[Mobility] Standard
[Physical Resilience] Normal
[Tactical Acumen] Normal
[Combat Skills] Standard
[Originium Arts Assimilation] Standard
Vermeil's place of birth remains unknown. She was in the wilderness outside Siracusa prior to joining Rhodes Island. We speculate that she was a hunter. She demonstrates extraordinary skill in the fields of hunting, sniping, and guerrilla warfare.
She currently serves Rhodes Island on a sniper team, providing force protection and sharpshooting assistance.
Imaging tests reveal blurry outlines of this operator's internal organs, clouded with abnormal dark spots. Her circulatory system shows an abnormally high rate of Originium particulate matter, with other signs of Oripathy infection, we can confirm that the operator is indeed Infected.

[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 5%
Operator Vermeil's skin has begun to crystallize.

[Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.3u/L
Operator Vermeil's infection has been stabilized.
Operator Vermeil's specific place of birth remains unknown. We know only that it is somewhere under the control of Siracusa and suffers rather few Catastrophes.
It is difficult to produce a unified, competitive entity in the wilderness. These sorts of things tend to come out of settlements. Although settlements can see their loose alliances broken down by respective interests, they remain close to each other and keep a similar pace of life.
Vermiel was for the most part a hunter. She hunted animals in the wilderness, collecting junk and other items along the way, to trade in settlements on the edge of the wilderness. She was willing to take all kinds of compensation, assuming the price was fair. Long before the nomadic cities kicked off the modern era, tribal disputes and resource competition spurred conflict in the wilderness for thousands of years, as different groups moved in, changed, merged, and disappeared.
Vermeil's cloak was handmade, a special product of a settlement called Vermeil. The cloak bears the pattern insignia of the town. It helps block the sun and sand. Hand-crafted and finely woven with excellent craftsmanship from locally-grown materials, these cloaks are a local specialty often sold or given as gifts to guests of Vermeil.
Vermeil does not shy away from the topic of losing her companions. According to her own account, the settlement she belonged to had a dispute with an Ursus mercenary group deep in the wilds of Siracusa. That dispute ultimately escalated to the use of force, resulting in the near extermination of the settlement. With the Siracusan government lacking control over (and interest in) the wilderness, the bloody affair was not recorded and soon forgotten.
As Vermeil was still young at the time of the incident, the Ursus spared her, but she could not forgive the mercenaries.
Over the next three years, Vermeil abandoned her name and began to prepare everything she would need to exact her revenge. But found herself seriously injured and knocked unconscious by a wild beast. Fortunately, she was rescued by an elderly hunter passing by. In order to save her life, she had no choice but to give up her wounded arm. When Vermeil awakened and realized the position she was in, she devoted herself to a quick recovery. She overcame her pain, and rapidly adapted to the use of her prosthetic.
Vermeil continued to hunt her goal, down the path of revenge. The only one she spared was an elderly mercenary, long since retired, surrounded by children and grandchildren. She took only his left arm and a medal symbolizing his honor as a mercenary, sparing his life. At this point, Vermeil has suspended her retaliation against the Ursus.
Like many who suffer from Oripathy, Vermeil has no knowledge of the disease or why she's afflicted with it. At first, her only knowledge of the disease came from certain individuals who had contact with the Infected, the veracity of their statements hard to determine. She decided to endure this intractable disease just as she endured the pain from losing her arm.
The number of people suffering from Oripathy increase by the day, and talk about the Infected spreads to more and more people as well. It was only from this that Vermeil realized, the Infected were no longer seen in the same light. All kinds of rumors about Oripathy were spread around. Suspicion festered into ostracizing or even persecution, but Vermeil lost the ability to make further judgments about the situation. All she knew was that her pain was real.
However, Vermeil does not bear any resentment towards her Oripathy - she merely sees it as an inevitable part of life. Even though she became Infected and was persecuted because of it, she did not come to hate anyone for it. If she met someone who did hate her, she would just stare back fiercely.
If there's a way to find a cure, then go to receive treatment. If not, then carry on until you can't move anymore. Just like when she accepted the loss of her arm, Vermeil also accepted her identity as an Infected.
Regarding Operator Vermeil's prosthetic limb, after a simple repair and inspection, it was found that the model did not match that of any known local dealer. Related to this, though I am not willing to delve too deeply on this subject matter, is the fact that she was brought to Rhodes Island by a member of the Laterano Notarial Hall who signed an agreement with Rhodes Island at a certain point in time and also served as an Operator.
We continued asking around to gather the information necessary to perform maintenance on Vermeil's prosthetic limb. Unexpectedly, according to several different sources, the prosthetic was the work of a Laterano mechanic who saved Vermeil in the mountains of Siracusa whose name appeared on a prepaid check covering Vermeil's medical expenses. Vermeil always seemed to have little to say about the benefactor who saved her life, but from her attitude towards her past, she appears to hold a deep respect for him.
Since she does not seem to want to talk about these experiences, it may be better to let this story remain buried deep within her heart.
HP
1230
ATK
550
DEF
162
RES
0
Cost
12
ATK Interval
1 sec
Block
1
Redeploy
70 sec

Talents

  • Hunter's Wisdom
    Improves own Skill Point recovery rate by +0.3/second

Skills

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  • ATK Up β
    Auto RecoveryManual Activation
    Initial SP
    10
    SP Cost
    35
    Duration
    25 sec
    ATK +80%
    atk
    0.8
  • Double Shot
    Auto RecoveryManual Activation
    Initial SP
    10
    SP Cost
    20
    Duration
    20 sec
    ATK +45%,each attack hits 1 additional target.
    atk
    0.45
    attack@max_target
    2

Modules

  • ORIGINAL
    Vermeil's Badge
    Operator Vermeil has demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for maintaining distance whilst conducting suppressive fire against the enemy.
    The Field Operations Department has thus passed the following resolution:
    This operator shall be appointed a Sniper Operator during field operations to exercise Marksman responsibilities.
    In witness whereof,
    This badge is hereby conferred upon the above named.
  • MAR-X
    'Still Alive'
    StageStatsUpgrade Description
    1
    • HP +90
    • ATK +23
    Marksman Trait
    Attacks aerial enemies first
    Increases ATK to 110% when attacking aerial targets
    2
    • HP +140
    • ATK +28
    Hunter's Wisdom
    Improves own SP recovery rate by +0.35/second
    3
    • HP +170
    • ATK +31
    Hunter's Wisdom
    Improves own SP recovery rate by +0.4/second
    In the barrens stands a newly planted flag. No one knows who put it there, nor what settlement it belongs to. It's lifted by a crude pole stuck into the earth, wind sweeping up sand and flying the banner straight.
    A passerby sees the design upon it and is struck by vague familiarity, but where he's seen it before totally escapes him. A cloth with the same design covers the grain pile back at his home, dust having long worn that special symbol away.
    He sees the towering flag and pulls out his hatchet, thinking to cut the flagpole down. The fabric seems sturdy and strong, the pole suitable for firewood. Unwanted by anyone, he may as well chop it down and put it to better use. Just like how every settlement in this stretch of the wild fights one another over soil and resources, ultimately evolving into ever more brand-new civilizations.
    The axe hacks into the pole, but cannot cut it. He puts a hand out to shake it, but the flag defiantly flies even straighter in greeting the sun. He hocks a glob of spit onto the ground, shifts away from the light, and squints his eyes as he looks up. The material's very new. Not yet stained by rain or dirt. The burlap flaunts its sheen.
    A few days ago, a mechanical arm brushed aside the traps set all around its cabin home, picking flax from the long-forsaken waste, and weaving as its Mom and Dad once taught it. The hand so used to bows was somewhat clumsy, but the metal hand briskly rolled the flax into thread.
    Suppose one said this arm used to be treasured for how it could draw a bow with greater force—now, it had its owner's full interest for how meticulously it could weave. But the mechanical arm understood none of this; it simply followed its master's will, making good on what she saw fit.
    A few years ago, the arm's owner thankfully told the old man that installed it how she would use it to further her revenge. In time, she used the greater force within it to loose arrows into the bodies of mercenaries. She looked at the things they left behind, at the unfamiliar symbol on them—the story of her. Time stopped here, and not a soul remembers all that he was before. She pulled her cloak off, fixing it tight to the wound that almost saw her windpipe slit open. Revenge can easily wipe away a person's past. She didn't want to turn out the same way when her demise came.
    So she returned to her home, wove this mantle, sought out a firm flagpole, and stuck it rigidly into the soil.
    It is the final remaining symbol of this settlement in the wilds, and she used her vengeful arm to weave this memento of civilization. The flag rises, the steel arm's owner walks her new path, and those who pass by the banner will recall the pattern she wove.

RIIC Base Skills

  • Junkman
    When this Operator is assigned to a Factory, capacity limit +8 and Morale consumed per hour -0.25
  • Recycling
    When this Operator is assigned to a Factory, Operators assigned to the Factory increase all capacity limits, add 2% productivity.