Status
540
Status

540

1-5

55
Resistances

[x1.2]

Normal
[x1]

Normal
[x1]

Endure
[x0.75]

[x1.25]

Normal
[x1]

Normal
[x1]

Ineff.
[x0.5]

Normal
[x1]

Weak
[x1.5]
Stagger Threshold
50% (270)
0% (0)
level: 50
4
+6
SKILL 1
4
+3
SKILL 2
5
+5
SKILL 3
4
+4
SKILL 4


5
+4
SKILL 5
Gain +1 laceration Count every time this unit is hit
Turn End: consume 3 laceration Count on self to gain 1 hardenedblood
Turn End: consume 3 laceration Count on self to gain 1 hardenedblood
PASSIVE
Prioritizes targets with laceration
Turn End: if this unit failed to deal any damage this turn, gain 2 vulnerable and 2 attackup next turn
Turn End: if this unit failed to deal any damage this turn, gain 2 vulnerable and 2 attackup next turn
PASSIVE
When hit, if the attacker used a Skill that gains charge, the attacker steals 1 charge Count from this unit.
(Once per Skill. Does not activate if this unit does not have charge)
(Once per Skill. Does not activate if this unit does not have charge)
PASSIVE
Self-inflicted damage due to this unit's Skills does not reduce this unit's HP under 1
PASSIVE
Turn Start: At less than 5 charge Count, gain 1 reduction
Turn Start: At 5+ charge Count, gain 2
Turn Start: At 5+ charge Count, gain 2
PASSIVE
Take 30% less damage from laceration (rounded down)
On Hit, if the target has laceration, heal 25% of the damage dealt
On Hit, if the target has laceration, heal 25% of the damage dealt
PASSIVE
Turn End: if in Panic, reset SP to 0.
PASSIVE
Story
I did think this Fixer was kind of an asshole. Rude, rough… but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that she was a Bloodfiend. All because she didn’t want to die… honestly, I get it. I really do. I’ve seen enough folks during the war, surrendering to the enemy for that very same reason. But surrendering was rarely ever better than continuing to fight. Without someone or something major to back them up, to vouch for them… they’d just get executed. Maybe… maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to condemn her choice like Don Quixote does. Because I've seen people like her with my own eyes. ... Of course, that’s that, and this is this. If it's between her life or my escape, I'll choose to be selfish. Spending thousands of years trapped inside this train, doing nothing? No, that’s such a ridiculous idea that I don’t even want to think about it. By the way, do you know what else is ridiculous? Suddenly getting woken up in the middle of an active WARP trai— Fine, I’ll move on. Anyways… though red crystals were poking through her prosthetic body, she continued to function at a decent capacity. She still uses the same, familiar prosthetic fighting style: suddenly raising her power output or using the prosthetic parts as disposable shields. And… let’s see… Right. Don’t let her cut you, because you’ll be bleeding from that wound for a while. I felt her weapons, covered in some serrated, crystallized sawblades, rip my skin apart. But I don’t think there was much more to her than that. The biggest threat she posed was her ability to regenerate almost infinitely, thanks to the train’s weird environment. But she wasn’t very different from those Bloodbaskets otherwise. Frau Faust told me that it’s because she’s a newborn Kindred. → An obvious, shameful conclusion awaits those who step onto the field of battle with such pathetic, weak-willed minds. They don’t deserve even an iota of respect, and rightly so. → Do I seriously have to keep butting heads with you every time we talk about this subject? Don't tell me you've never felt even a tinge of empathy for them. → How can I trust someone who defects to the enemy the moment they fear for their lives? I have nothing but contempt for them. → … Fine. Maybe on a battlefield. But that’s all in the past. It's over. → No, it’s not. It’s not over, none of it is. You only wish that it was. → Observation logs are not forums for debate. Please refrain from engaging in one. → Also, their designation is ‘Bloodbags’, not ‘Bloodbaskets’. It is regrettable that you continue to fail to refer to often-mentioned subjects by their often-mentioned, correct names. → That’s uh… yeah, okay. My bad…
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