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CURRENT MESSAGE FROM POLARIS
As of 08/18/2025: "The first version of my overhauled site is finally out! The Straw.page version for accessibility is still in progress, so you can use this site for now."
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Name: Polaris
Age: 23 years old
Height: 5'9 in
Weight: 110 lbs
Occupation: Freelance Porter, under the name "Project: POLARIS"
DOOMS Level: 5 (borderline 6, extremely rare)
Primary Ability: Connection to the Beach and ability to materialize chiralium constructs, most notably a sword of crystallized chiralium. The sword shimmers faintly with fractured light, tied to his mental and physical state. Can cut through BTs and chiral matter, but prolonged use causes strain.
Strengths: Can fight BTs and humans alike with his chiralium blade. High chiral sensitivity grants awareness of Beaches, BT activity, and other DOOMS phenomena. Stubborn willpower—he reframes suffering into purpose.
Weaknesses: Extended combat risks chiral burns, physical scarring and neurological damage from overexposure. Regeneration only occurs out of combat when the halo stabilizes him. Constant psychological burden: visions, strain, and weight of responsibility.
WHO IS POLARIS
Polaris, a one-of-a-kind DOOMS Sufferer who's currently the only person that has a blue halo on his head. It's unknown how he got that in the first place yet but it acts as a stabilizer to chiral exposure, but has drawbacks. Unlike any other porters, he's the only person who wears a different custom-made suit in his own job as a freelance porter.Polaris began his journey as a young freelance porter, establishing his reputation under the name Project: POLARIS. He never used an alias, yet people still recognized his name right away whenever it showed up in the database. Most of the time, he works alone, but he’s known to lend a hand to other porters who get into trouble during their own journey.
LORE
PLAYING INTERVIEW... >> "Before I became a porter, I was just another face in the city. I liked to think I was everyone’s friend, but the truth is, I was too full of myself. People didn’t like the way I acted, and eventually, they made sure I knew it. I was banished, cast out of the only place I called home. After that, I disappeared. No one heard from me again.""At least, not for a while.""A year later, whispers started moving across the UCA. Reports of lost cargo coming back in bulk, sometimes in perfect shape, sometimes close. Hoarders who once harassed the roads went silent. Facilities began noticing strange spikes in activity, followed by calm, like someone was out there fighting off a BT just to make things safer.""That was me. The man who once lived only for himself was out there, walking, carrying, fighting not for recognition, but because it was all I had left. The UCA eventually noticed; I showed up in their database more than anyone else. With the first great porter gone, I became the next in line. Not because I wanted to, but because someone had to keep the path open.""Two years passed like that. Two years of wandering my own hell, delivering in silence, making sure people had what they needed. And yet, in the quiet moments, I’d catch myself smiling, because even if no one knew my face, I knew I was helping.""If I ever went back home, I’d still be hated. Banished, unwelcome. But the truth is… I’m not that man anymore."
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