Have a good time looking at my characters! If you see someone that would work for your RP, send me a message.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Weston "Wes" Fields
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Appearance: Put simply, Wes is built like an Tauros. Standing at an imposing 6'2 and weighing in at a solid 221 lbs, he carries with him the strong build of a man who has known hard labor. His skin is dark from long days of work under an unrelenting sun and his form is taught with hard muscle gleaned from work on his family's ranch. Wes' face contains an angular, defined structure; jawline and cheekbones sharp against against a field of copper skin. Hair a chestnut brown, Wes endeavors to keep his locks short in a crew-cut style, keeping his forest green eyes clear of any distractions.
For clothes, Wes prefers to keep things simple and practical. His attire usually consists of blue jeans, solid-colored t-shirts, hiking boots, and a sturdy leather belt. Like his clothes, he keeps his accessories limited a pragmatic selection. Wes can usually be seen in a worn, black baseball cap and often wears a blue bandanna tied around his neck. While this scrap of cloth is nondescript in appearance, Wes places an excessive amount of importance upon it as it was his grandfather's before his. He refuses to part from it at anytime, and taking it without his explicit permission is a sure-fire way to earn his ire.
All of his smaller possessions, which range from the expected potions and food to strange little keepsakes he holds onto, he stores in brown backpack slung over his shoulder. Wes keeps his pokeballs holstered in his belt, the brightly colored devices stark against his admittedly drab appearance.
Personality: Despite his rather intimidating figure, at heart Wes is a gentle giant. He cares deeply about both his friends and his pokemon, and once his loyalty it is damned near impossible to lose it. He believes in solving problems with a cool head and steady supply of patience. Wes is a quiet man, but carries himself with a sort of friendly confidence that prevents him from dipping into the realms of solemnity. It's this type of silent assurance that leads both people to take a shine to Wes, and he has often found that pokemon in particular enjoy his calming company. Polite, hard working, and level-headed, Wes is the embodiment of his family's old-fashioned country ideals, and one would be hard-pressed to shake his steady patience beyond the point of breaking.
While a compassionate soul, Wes is not afraid to bloody his hands in the defense of those he loves. With his resounding sense of loyalty, Wes views those he has bonded with as close as family, and he would do anything to protect them. There is no line he would not cross in order safeguard someone he cares about, and while this has often proved to be a noble quality, it lends Wes to easy exploration should anyone target his loved ones.
For all his boons, Wes is not without his faults. He is a reserved man, often perfecting the company of pokemon to people, and that same patience which allows for his calm personality allows for Wes to take too long to make decisions. Prone to hiding his feelings, Wes will often bottle up his emotions until they build to a boil and threaten an explosive reckoning.
Profession: Formerly a rancher, Wes is now a fledgling Trainer.
Talents: Living out in the country for most of his life, Wes has picked up numerous skills which lend themselves to living off the land and surviving in the wilderness. He can successful set up a campsite, start a fire, identify common traits among poisonous plants, forage for food, and preform any number of minor survival activities.
His calm and quiet nature combined with his training as a rancher makes pokemon feel more comfortable in his presence, and he has often been called on by his parents to deal with an angry Tauros or disobedient Growlithe. Wes is fairly good at befriending and calming pokemon, but is by no means a savant in the skill.
Born the youngest of five older brothers, Wes is no stranger to the odd tussle or scrap. He is adept at wrestling and submission holds, utilizing his large size and innate strength to overpower his siblings, but would find himself easily outmatched by anyone with moderate to extensive combat training.
Raised and trained as a rancher, Wes has numerous skills which lend themselves to his family trade. He is able to ride a Rapidash with decent skill, help with the birthing and care of pokemon, perform minor mechanical repairs, and is proficient with the use of a lasso.
Wes also has a lovely singing voice; a resonant baritone which is filled with a rich, earthy warmth. He rather enjoys singing, the lilting melodies often reminding him of days long past under the loving eye of his mother, and often whispers soft lullabies to Bandit when the Zigzagoon has trouble sleeping in the light hours. It remains a secret pleasure of his, and when his voice crests high into the air it echoes with the warm memories of the ranch in Hoenn. However, due to his quiet nature, Wes would never admit to it or knowingly perform in the presence of others.
Starter Pokémon:
Zigzagoon named Bandit (Born from a Skitty and a Zigzagoon)
Female
Lvl. 5
Naughty Nature
Bio: Wes first encountered Bandit when he found the Zigzagoon attempting to steal food from his family's Mareep pen. Instead of chasing it off or throwing stones at the thieving pokemon, Wes instead brought out a bowl of food for the animal. Enjoying both the food and company Wes offered, Bandit became a more common sight around the ranch, following the youth wherever he went. Eventually, Wes convinced his parents to allow him to capture the pokemon, and the two have been inseparable ever since.
Personality: Though her thieving ways have been somewhat curbed by Wes' friendship, Bandit is still a troublemaker at heart. She loves getting into all sorts of mischief, and often goes out of her way to create discord. In short, the Zigzagoon could not be more different than her trainer, yet the two have an intense bond verging on the familial.
Ability: Pickup
Moves:
Tackle
Growl
Tail Whip
Simple Beam
Inventory:
Trainer Card
P$600 in Cash
$1400 in Bank
Potion x5
Pokeball x10
Map of Hoenn
PokéNav
Antidote x3
Paralyze Heal x3
Camping kit
Lighter
Clothes for a week
Hygiene supplies
Lasso
Hometown: Oldale Town, on a ranch just within the town limits.
Biography: The sixth son of a rancher and his wife, Wes has spent almost the entirety of his life surrounded by pokemon. From training the family Growlithe to herd their flock to helping birth a Ponyta foal, there has not been a moment in memory where Wes hasn't felt the companionship of the strange and wonderful creatures that inhabit his world. For the majority of his youth, Wes was content to simply live out his life on the ranch with his family, tending to the Tauros like so many of his kin had done before him. He was a simple child, with simple needs that were easy met by life in the country. If he wanted adventure, he'd simply tag along with an older brother for a quick camping trip out in the wilderness. If he wanted entertainment, he would compete in Rapidash races or wrestling contests with his siblings. If he wanted peace, he would listen as his mother sang soft lullabies to the baby pokemon as the moon crested high into the night sky, joining in when he felt the rare courage to do so. Life was easy, life was good, and Wes was content with his lot as a common rancher with an average family.
However, as time rolled onward and as his brothers began to embark on journeys both in Hoenn and throughout the other regions of the pokemon world, Wes found himself filled with wanderlust. His brothers would often tell stories of their adventures in far off lands, and such tales inspired Wes to strike out on a journey of his own. Unfortunately, with his brothers gone, Wes' parents needed help running the ranch. Putting aside his thirst for adventure in favor of his responsibility, Wes worked diligently under his parent's employ, all the while wishing for his brothers' swift return. Throughout the whole of his adolescence Wes stayed on that ranch, caught between his need to explore and the duty he owed his parents.
Wes grew strong while his brothers where away, hard muscle replacing the softness of his youth. Though he spent the majority his time tending to his father's pokemon, in his free moments he continued to hike and camp in the rolling hills of the country: able to stay out longer and longer from civilization with every trip into the woods. Wes grew comfortable amidst the wilds of Hoenn, his only companionship his Zigzagoon Bandit and whatever pokemon he could convince to abide his presence.
It was not until his eighteenth birthday that Wes would find his opportunity to heed adventure's call. His eldest brother had returned from his long journey across Kanto with a new wife, and had decided to take on the family business of ranching. His sudden return finally allowed for Wes to begin his pokemon adventure, albeit at an older age than he expected. With his brothers' having already explored the other existing regions of the world, Wes decided he would make his own mark in Sengun. Boarding a ferry in Slateport, Wes set sail for the strange and exciting land of Sengun.
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Appearance: Put simply, Wes is built like an Tauros. Standing at an imposing 6'2 and weighing in at a solid 221 lbs, he carries with him the strong build of a man who has known hard labor. His skin is dark from long days of work under an unrelenting sun and his form is taught with hard muscle gleaned from work on his family's ranch. Wes' face contains an angular, defined structure; jawline and cheekbones sharp against against a field of copper skin. Hair a chestnut brown, Wes endeavors to keep his locks short in a crew-cut style, keeping his forest green eyes clear of any distractions.
For clothes, Wes prefers to keep things simple and practical. His attire usually consists of blue jeans, solid-colored t-shirts, hiking boots, and a sturdy leather belt. Like his clothes, he keeps his accessories limited a pragmatic selection. Wes can usually be seen in a worn, black baseball cap and often wears a blue bandanna tied around his neck. While this scrap of cloth is nondescript in appearance, Wes places an excessive amount of importance upon it as it was his grandfather's before his. He refuses to part from it at anytime, and taking it without his explicit permission is a sure-fire way to earn his ire.
All of his smaller possessions, which range from the expected potions and food to strange little keepsakes he holds onto, he stores in brown backpack slung over his shoulder. Wes keeps his pokeballs holstered in his belt, the brightly colored devices stark against his admittedly drab appearance.
Personality: Despite his rather intimidating figure, at heart Wes is a gentle giant. He cares deeply about both his friends and his pokemon, and once his loyalty it is damned near impossible to lose it. He believes in solving problems with a cool head and steady supply of patience. Wes is a quiet man, but carries himself with a sort of friendly confidence that prevents him from dipping into the realms of solemnity. It's this type of silent assurance that leads both people to take a shine to Wes, and he has often found that pokemon in particular enjoy his calming company. Polite, hard working, and level-headed, Wes is the embodiment of his family's old-fashioned country ideals, and one would be hard-pressed to shake his steady patience beyond the point of breaking.
While a compassionate soul, Wes is not afraid to bloody his hands in the defense of those he loves. With his resounding sense of loyalty, Wes views those he has bonded with as close as family, and he would do anything to protect them. There is no line he would not cross in order safeguard someone he cares about, and while this has often proved to be a noble quality, it lends Wes to easy exploration should anyone target his loved ones.
For all his boons, Wes is not without his faults. He is a reserved man, often perfecting the company of pokemon to people, and that same patience which allows for his calm personality allows for Wes to take too long to make decisions. Prone to hiding his feelings, Wes will often bottle up his emotions until they build to a boil and threaten an explosive reckoning.
Profession: Formerly a rancher, Wes is now a fledgling Trainer.
Talents: Living out in the country for most of his life, Wes has picked up numerous skills which lend themselves to living off the land and surviving in the wilderness. He can successful set up a campsite, start a fire, identify common traits among poisonous plants, forage for food, and preform any number of minor survival activities.
His calm and quiet nature combined with his training as a rancher makes pokemon feel more comfortable in his presence, and he has often been called on by his parents to deal with an angry Tauros or disobedient Growlithe. Wes is fairly good at befriending and calming pokemon, but is by no means a savant in the skill.
Born the youngest of five older brothers, Wes is no stranger to the odd tussle or scrap. He is adept at wrestling and submission holds, utilizing his large size and innate strength to overpower his siblings, but would find himself easily outmatched by anyone with moderate to extensive combat training.
Raised and trained as a rancher, Wes has numerous skills which lend themselves to his family trade. He is able to ride a Rapidash with decent skill, help with the birthing and care of pokemon, perform minor mechanical repairs, and is proficient with the use of a lasso.
Wes also has a lovely singing voice; a resonant baritone which is filled with a rich, earthy warmth. He rather enjoys singing, the lilting melodies often reminding him of days long past under the loving eye of his mother, and often whispers soft lullabies to Bandit when the Zigzagoon has trouble sleeping in the light hours. It remains a secret pleasure of his, and when his voice crests high into the air it echoes with the warm memories of the ranch in Hoenn. However, due to his quiet nature, Wes would never admit to it or knowingly perform in the presence of others.
Starter Pokémon:
Zigzagoon named Bandit (Born from a Skitty and a Zigzagoon)
Female
Lvl. 5
Naughty Nature
Bio: Wes first encountered Bandit when he found the Zigzagoon attempting to steal food from his family's Mareep pen. Instead of chasing it off or throwing stones at the thieving pokemon, Wes instead brought out a bowl of food for the animal. Enjoying both the food and company Wes offered, Bandit became a more common sight around the ranch, following the youth wherever he went. Eventually, Wes convinced his parents to allow him to capture the pokemon, and the two have been inseparable ever since.
Personality: Though her thieving ways have been somewhat curbed by Wes' friendship, Bandit is still a troublemaker at heart. She loves getting into all sorts of mischief, and often goes out of her way to create discord. In short, the Zigzagoon could not be more different than her trainer, yet the two have an intense bond verging on the familial.
Ability: Pickup
Moves:
Tackle
Growl
Tail Whip
Simple Beam
Inventory:
Trainer Card
P$600 in Cash
$1400 in Bank
Potion x5
Pokeball x10
Map of Hoenn
PokéNav
Antidote x3
Paralyze Heal x3
Camping kit
Lighter
Clothes for a week
Hygiene supplies
Lasso
Hometown: Oldale Town, on a ranch just within the town limits.
Biography: The sixth son of a rancher and his wife, Wes has spent almost the entirety of his life surrounded by pokemon. From training the family Growlithe to herd their flock to helping birth a Ponyta foal, there has not been a moment in memory where Wes hasn't felt the companionship of the strange and wonderful creatures that inhabit his world. For the majority of his youth, Wes was content to simply live out his life on the ranch with his family, tending to the Tauros like so many of his kin had done before him. He was a simple child, with simple needs that were easy met by life in the country. If he wanted adventure, he'd simply tag along with an older brother for a quick camping trip out in the wilderness. If he wanted entertainment, he would compete in Rapidash races or wrestling contests with his siblings. If he wanted peace, he would listen as his mother sang soft lullabies to the baby pokemon as the moon crested high into the night sky, joining in when he felt the rare courage to do so. Life was easy, life was good, and Wes was content with his lot as a common rancher with an average family.
However, as time rolled onward and as his brothers began to embark on journeys both in Hoenn and throughout the other regions of the pokemon world, Wes found himself filled with wanderlust. His brothers would often tell stories of their adventures in far off lands, and such tales inspired Wes to strike out on a journey of his own. Unfortunately, with his brothers gone, Wes' parents needed help running the ranch. Putting aside his thirst for adventure in favor of his responsibility, Wes worked diligently under his parent's employ, all the while wishing for his brothers' swift return. Throughout the whole of his adolescence Wes stayed on that ranch, caught between his need to explore and the duty he owed his parents.
Wes grew strong while his brothers where away, hard muscle replacing the softness of his youth. Though he spent the majority his time tending to his father's pokemon, in his free moments he continued to hike and camp in the rolling hills of the country: able to stay out longer and longer from civilization with every trip into the woods. Wes grew comfortable amidst the wilds of Hoenn, his only companionship his Zigzagoon Bandit and whatever pokemon he could convince to abide his presence.
It was not until his eighteenth birthday that Wes would find his opportunity to heed adventure's call. His eldest brother had returned from his long journey across Kanto with a new wife, and had decided to take on the family business of ranching. His sudden return finally allowed for Wes to begin his pokemon adventure, albeit at an older age than he expected. With his brothers' having already explored the other existing regions of the world, Wes decided he would make his own mark in Sengun. Boarding a ferry in Slateport, Wes set sail for the strange and exciting land of Sengun.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Adrian Zhao
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Backstory: The first-born son of first-generation immigrant parents, Adrian is not a native of the state of Oregon. He was born in Los Angles, California, where his parents had the unfortunate circumstance of living in a rather poor district within the city. Adrian's parents were no strangers to poverty, having experienced much the same in lower-class China, but life was hard for them all the same. His father working two jobs and his mother working one as well just to keep bread on the table, Adrian has seen the arduous effort that his parents have put into providing for him and is determined to pay them back for their back-breaking labor.
He buried himself into his school work, neglecting social endeavors in favor of increasing his class rank. Adrian soon rose to the top of his class, surpassing his fellow students with ease and out-pacing the provided material weeks in advance. The principle of his school so impressed with Adrian's seeming unconquerable drive to succeed, she understood that this top student had nothing left to learn at her school. Without his knowledge, the principle wrote a recommendation letter to a close friend of hers, a certain headmaster of a prestigious private school in Oregon, and near-begged him to offer Adrian a full-ride to their academic institution.
It took until the end of Adrian's sophomore year, but the school finally yielded to the principle's request and sent Adrian an invitation to attend their academy. Though it was a great distance away, Adrian's parents fully supported the idea. With his parent's approval, the teenager packed up his meager possessions and boarded a flight to Oregon on his own. Rooming on location, Adrian is bound and determined to honor his parents faith in him at this new school.
Notes: Adrian has yet to discover his power. However, it will manifest should he put in a dangerous situation.
Power: Organic Exoskeleton Creation and Enhanced Speed
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Backstory: The first-born son of first-generation immigrant parents, Adrian is not a native of the state of Oregon. He was born in Los Angles, California, where his parents had the unfortunate circumstance of living in a rather poor district within the city. Adrian's parents were no strangers to poverty, having experienced much the same in lower-class China, but life was hard for them all the same. His father working two jobs and his mother working one as well just to keep bread on the table, Adrian has seen the arduous effort that his parents have put into providing for him and is determined to pay them back for their back-breaking labor.
He buried himself into his school work, neglecting social endeavors in favor of increasing his class rank. Adrian soon rose to the top of his class, surpassing his fellow students with ease and out-pacing the provided material weeks in advance. The principle of his school so impressed with Adrian's seeming unconquerable drive to succeed, she understood that this top student had nothing left to learn at her school. Without his knowledge, the principle wrote a recommendation letter to a close friend of hers, a certain headmaster of a prestigious private school in Oregon, and near-begged him to offer Adrian a full-ride to their academic institution.
It took until the end of Adrian's sophomore year, but the school finally yielded to the principle's request and sent Adrian an invitation to attend their academy. Though it was a great distance away, Adrian's parents fully supported the idea. With his parent's approval, the teenager packed up his meager possessions and boarded a flight to Oregon on his own. Rooming on location, Adrian is bound and determined to honor his parents faith in him at this new school.
Notes: Adrian has yet to discover his power. However, it will manifest should he put in a dangerous situation.
Power: Organic Exoskeleton Creation and Enhanced Speed
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: F7-250
Age: 4 months off of the factory line
Gender: N/A (however, often referred to as a male)
Race: Droid
Appearance:
F7’s model is rather strange in comparison to more mundane droids like astromechs or translators. Powerful legs and elongated arms, each bearing three digits at the end, coupled with its streamlined body mark this droid as built for speed and agility. Its large, near seven foot tall silver body is accented with cobalt blue designs which glow palely. F7 moves with a near cat-like grace, every step calculated for its upmost efficiency.
Personality: F7’s primary directive is the care and protection of sentients during times of crisis. As it is a relatively new droid, it has had little time to develop the characteristic quirks of more time-worn robots and mainly sticks to its main functions. However, among sentients that F7 has spent a long time around, the droid develops a bit of an over-protective streak, seeing danger in even the most benign settings. Among such sentients, it will often rattle off the statistical likelihood of certain actions resulting in a gruesome death in a surprisingly chipper tone, though it seems just happy to help rather than happy about the chance of death. During times where its primary function cannot be fulfilled and it is not deactivated, F7 seems content to attach itself to whichever sentient can stand its presence and follow them until ordered otherwise. F7 is extremely fascinated by organic life, finding wonder in even the simplest of biological functions or organic interactions. As such, the droid has taken a shine to downloading data caches relating to organic functions, at times pestering sentients about what it perceives as biological curiosities.
Profession: Emergency Response Droid
Skills: F7 is programed with thousands of medical and safety protocols, and can sufficiently serve as a first responder of near any-kind. From paramedic to firefighter, F7 has the knowledge necessary to protect and serve its organic progenitors. As a droid, it has the basic knowledge regarding its own maintenance and upkeep, but is not designed as a repair droid. F7 can calculate advance mathematical quandaries and wide streams of statistical data at rapid rate, although for truly complex problems it would have to divert the necessary processing power away from its base subroutines.
Abilities: F7’s model was designed with advanced physical capabilities in mind. As a droid dropped into disaster zones with the intent to rescue individuals of interest, F7 was built to withstand a large amount of punishment and traverse unstable buildings quickly and efficiently. The droid is capable of moving at rapid speeds overland and preforming impressive acrobatic feats in order to perform its primary function. This model contains heighten hydraulic capabilities in all of its appendages, allowing it to lift large loads or leap great distances in order to complete its task. However, F7 is not a combat droid, and as such, has no programming which details how it should attack, or even approach, an aggressor.
Equipment: F7 is equipped with a number of in-built technological innovations which aid in its rescue attempts.
Infrared vision
Night vision
Telescopic vision
TeleSonic audio pickup
Field cauterizer
ECM-598 Medical Backpack
PED-21 distress beacon
Kolto Injectors
Medkit
Comlink
Holoprojector
Datapad/Data Link w/ connection to the Extranet
BX-333 Biorecorder
Foodstuff Ez1 Analyzer
Fire-suppression foam
Brief Backstory:
F7-250 was an experimental droid built with one directive in mind. One, simple, perfect goal to achieve. Prevent the unnecessary loss of organic life. One of the few of its kind ever created, no expense was spared when it came to the invention and outfitting of this droid. It was to be the first in a line of many rescue droids that were to change the scene of medical field in the known galaxy. Equipped with massive databanks which housed thousands of years of medicinal knowledge relating to hundreds of species across the cosmos, the F7-250 model was truly ahead of its time. Its inventor was projected to make millions, and he had a long list of clients lined up for this droid; ranging anywhere from the Hutt cartels of Nar Shaada to the newly vented Galactic Republic.
Unfortunately, the Imperial Remnant caught wind of this robotic wonder. Having no way to steal the plans or outbid their competitors before the inventor was to gift his creation to their enemies, the Imperial Remnant chose to destroy what they could rather than let the Republic seize control of this asset. Launching a series of coordinated bombings against the inventor’s laboratory, F7 was left alone in this galaxy as its brothers and its creator were ripped from existence, the droid itself only escaping destruction by a prodigious collapse of rubble which left it trapped and offline while the bombs continued to rage overhead.
Dug up months later by scavengers, F7 was sold as a simple labor droid to the Jedi Order, using its advanced strength and unique design to help the Jedi construct a new temple. Its true directive would resurge once again when, during construction, a large column of rock would crash down on a group of Force-sensitive younglings. Without even a moment’s hesitation, F7 rushed from its work to place itself between the younglings and the falling rubble, catching the rock as its systems strained to compensate for the added weight. From that moment forth, the Jedi realized F7’s true design. Eventually, the droid would be assigned to accompany a group of Jedi Knights on their new mission.
Age: 4 months off of the factory line
Gender: N/A (however, often referred to as a male)
Race: Droid
Appearance:
F7’s model is rather strange in comparison to more mundane droids like astromechs or translators. Powerful legs and elongated arms, each bearing three digits at the end, coupled with its streamlined body mark this droid as built for speed and agility. Its large, near seven foot tall silver body is accented with cobalt blue designs which glow palely. F7 moves with a near cat-like grace, every step calculated for its upmost efficiency.
Personality: F7’s primary directive is the care and protection of sentients during times of crisis. As it is a relatively new droid, it has had little time to develop the characteristic quirks of more time-worn robots and mainly sticks to its main functions. However, among sentients that F7 has spent a long time around, the droid develops a bit of an over-protective streak, seeing danger in even the most benign settings. Among such sentients, it will often rattle off the statistical likelihood of certain actions resulting in a gruesome death in a surprisingly chipper tone, though it seems just happy to help rather than happy about the chance of death. During times where its primary function cannot be fulfilled and it is not deactivated, F7 seems content to attach itself to whichever sentient can stand its presence and follow them until ordered otherwise. F7 is extremely fascinated by organic life, finding wonder in even the simplest of biological functions or organic interactions. As such, the droid has taken a shine to downloading data caches relating to organic functions, at times pestering sentients about what it perceives as biological curiosities.
Profession: Emergency Response Droid
Skills: F7 is programed with thousands of medical and safety protocols, and can sufficiently serve as a first responder of near any-kind. From paramedic to firefighter, F7 has the knowledge necessary to protect and serve its organic progenitors. As a droid, it has the basic knowledge regarding its own maintenance and upkeep, but is not designed as a repair droid. F7 can calculate advance mathematical quandaries and wide streams of statistical data at rapid rate, although for truly complex problems it would have to divert the necessary processing power away from its base subroutines.
Abilities: F7’s model was designed with advanced physical capabilities in mind. As a droid dropped into disaster zones with the intent to rescue individuals of interest, F7 was built to withstand a large amount of punishment and traverse unstable buildings quickly and efficiently. The droid is capable of moving at rapid speeds overland and preforming impressive acrobatic feats in order to perform its primary function. This model contains heighten hydraulic capabilities in all of its appendages, allowing it to lift large loads or leap great distances in order to complete its task. However, F7 is not a combat droid, and as such, has no programming which details how it should attack, or even approach, an aggressor.
Equipment: F7 is equipped with a number of in-built technological innovations which aid in its rescue attempts.
Infrared vision
Night vision
Telescopic vision
TeleSonic audio pickup
Field cauterizer
ECM-598 Medical Backpack
PED-21 distress beacon
Kolto Injectors
Medkit
Comlink
Holoprojector
Datapad/Data Link w/ connection to the Extranet
BX-333 Biorecorder
Foodstuff Ez1 Analyzer
Fire-suppression foam
Brief Backstory:
F7-250 was an experimental droid built with one directive in mind. One, simple, perfect goal to achieve. Prevent the unnecessary loss of organic life. One of the few of its kind ever created, no expense was spared when it came to the invention and outfitting of this droid. It was to be the first in a line of many rescue droids that were to change the scene of medical field in the known galaxy. Equipped with massive databanks which housed thousands of years of medicinal knowledge relating to hundreds of species across the cosmos, the F7-250 model was truly ahead of its time. Its inventor was projected to make millions, and he had a long list of clients lined up for this droid; ranging anywhere from the Hutt cartels of Nar Shaada to the newly vented Galactic Republic.
Unfortunately, the Imperial Remnant caught wind of this robotic wonder. Having no way to steal the plans or outbid their competitors before the inventor was to gift his creation to their enemies, the Imperial Remnant chose to destroy what they could rather than let the Republic seize control of this asset. Launching a series of coordinated bombings against the inventor’s laboratory, F7 was left alone in this galaxy as its brothers and its creator were ripped from existence, the droid itself only escaping destruction by a prodigious collapse of rubble which left it trapped and offline while the bombs continued to rage overhead.
Dug up months later by scavengers, F7 was sold as a simple labor droid to the Jedi Order, using its advanced strength and unique design to help the Jedi construct a new temple. Its true directive would resurge once again when, during construction, a large column of rock would crash down on a group of Force-sensitive younglings. Without even a moment’s hesitation, F7 rushed from its work to place itself between the younglings and the falling rubble, catching the rock as its systems strained to compensate for the added weight. From that moment forth, the Jedi realized F7’s true design. Eventually, the droid would be assigned to accompany a group of Jedi Knights on their new mission.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Akaemos Fain (Darth Eternus)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Chiss
Appearance:
Athletically built and wrapped in the ice blue skin tone of his people, Akaemos carries his 6’2 form with a cool confidence. His onyx hair hangs shaggily in front of his hungry red eyes, the only thing which seems to obstruct his piercing scarlet gaze. Akaemos prefers to dress himself in dark black clothes trimmed with red, harkening back to the styles of the Sith Lords of Old.
Personality: Fiercely intelligent and bearing an insatiable appetite for knowledge and the power it provides, in another time Akemos might have been a renowned scholar or humble librarian. However, in this time of resounding conflict, this Chiss has chosen to use his ravenous hunger to heed the call of the Force, the call of the Dark Side. Akaemos bears the burden of being dangerously curious, a trait which has granted as many boons as banes for the would-be Sith Lord. When presented with something new or different, Akaemos’ first reaction is almost always to analyze the phenomena from all angles. While useful, this action can lead the Chiss to error when surprised or ambushed. Akaemos carries himself with a charismatic confidence, preferring to manipulate and inspire others rather than intimidate and degrade. Ever-assured in his learning, the Chiss considers his perspective superior to all others, and delights in poking holes in other philosophies. Especially the Jedi Code. Infuriatingly clever, a relentless opponent, and confident to the point of arrogance, Akaemos strives to institute himself as a true Sith Lord by any means necessary.
Profession: Archaeologist/Dark Jedi
Skills: Due to his devotion to studying the mysteries of the Force, Akaemos has lessened his focus on more physical aspects of combat. He has a solid understanding of Form VI: Niman, but would soon find himself outclassed by a skilled duelist or physical combatant. The Chiss is extremely knowledgeable about a wide swath of subjects, ranging from xenobiology to archaeology, and finds the pursuit of knowledge extremely enticing. He has only begun to dabble in Sith alchemy, but is showing great promise in the field.
Abilities: Akaemos is an extremely talented Force user. He carries within him a raw power for manipulating the Force, capable of such techniques as Force Push, Pull, Throw, Leap, Choke, Lightning, Persuade, and so on. With enough time and study, Akaemos might be able to rival the power of Sith Lords like Darth Plaguis or Darth Bane.
Equipment: Akaemos owns a dark orange lightsaber of ancient, if out-dated, design. It truly is an elegant weapon from a far more civilized age, its hilt bearing an ornate black and silver design. He also owns an old and battered Sith mask he found early in his archaeological career.
Brief Backstory: Born to parents of moderate wealth in the Outer Rim territories, Akaemos knew an easy life growing up. His aptitude for the academic had shown itself earlier in his life, and he breezed through his classes at an alarmingly quick rate. Enrolling in advanced studies at his planet’s premier institute, Akaemos quickly found himself bored by the trite and routine studies that his teachers insisted were necessary to his success. At the age of sixteen, the Chiss decided to abandon the traditional learning routine in favor of more autodidactic methods.
Leaving his home world with nothing but his name and the clothes on his back, Akaemos lent his intellect to whomever would have him.
As it would happen, The Imperial Remnant took especial interest in the young Chiss. Offering their still rather sizable resources and the chance for upward mobility within the Imperial Meritocracy, Akaemos enlisted into the Imperial Reclamation Service as a Xenoarchaelogist. He found great joy in unearthing the ancient artifacts, and by unearthing dark secrets from ages long past Akaemos ascended rapidly through the IRS’ ranks. However, his life would forever be changed on the planet Kesh.
Under what seemed like a whim at the time, Akaemos managed to put pressure on the leaders of IRS to send an expeditionary force to the Takara Mountains on Kesh. Cashing in every favor and dirty trick he had in his arsenal, Akaemos finally received permission to begin a dig in the mountains. After months of searching, the Chiss officer found what he was looking for. A massive temple with towers that seemed to pierce the heavens above sprawled out before him, and he heard the ruins call him forth. Its siren song sang sweetly to him, but only him. His fellows were unwilling to approach the place which rang with Dark Side energy, and so it was Akaemos alone who entered the temple. It was here, among the ruins of and tomes of this temple that the Chiss received the truth of his existence. It was here where he began his initiation into the force. Where he learned of the Sith Lords of old and their shadowy arts. Where Akaemos Fain died, and Darth Eternus was born.
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Chiss
Appearance:
Athletically built and wrapped in the ice blue skin tone of his people, Akaemos carries his 6’2 form with a cool confidence. His onyx hair hangs shaggily in front of his hungry red eyes, the only thing which seems to obstruct his piercing scarlet gaze. Akaemos prefers to dress himself in dark black clothes trimmed with red, harkening back to the styles of the Sith Lords of Old.
Personality: Fiercely intelligent and bearing an insatiable appetite for knowledge and the power it provides, in another time Akemos might have been a renowned scholar or humble librarian. However, in this time of resounding conflict, this Chiss has chosen to use his ravenous hunger to heed the call of the Force, the call of the Dark Side. Akaemos bears the burden of being dangerously curious, a trait which has granted as many boons as banes for the would-be Sith Lord. When presented with something new or different, Akaemos’ first reaction is almost always to analyze the phenomena from all angles. While useful, this action can lead the Chiss to error when surprised or ambushed. Akaemos carries himself with a charismatic confidence, preferring to manipulate and inspire others rather than intimidate and degrade. Ever-assured in his learning, the Chiss considers his perspective superior to all others, and delights in poking holes in other philosophies. Especially the Jedi Code. Infuriatingly clever, a relentless opponent, and confident to the point of arrogance, Akaemos strives to institute himself as a true Sith Lord by any means necessary.
Profession: Archaeologist/Dark Jedi
Skills: Due to his devotion to studying the mysteries of the Force, Akaemos has lessened his focus on more physical aspects of combat. He has a solid understanding of Form VI: Niman, but would soon find himself outclassed by a skilled duelist or physical combatant. The Chiss is extremely knowledgeable about a wide swath of subjects, ranging from xenobiology to archaeology, and finds the pursuit of knowledge extremely enticing. He has only begun to dabble in Sith alchemy, but is showing great promise in the field.
Abilities: Akaemos is an extremely talented Force user. He carries within him a raw power for manipulating the Force, capable of such techniques as Force Push, Pull, Throw, Leap, Choke, Lightning, Persuade, and so on. With enough time and study, Akaemos might be able to rival the power of Sith Lords like Darth Plaguis or Darth Bane.
Equipment: Akaemos owns a dark orange lightsaber of ancient, if out-dated, design. It truly is an elegant weapon from a far more civilized age, its hilt bearing an ornate black and silver design. He also owns an old and battered Sith mask he found early in his archaeological career.
Brief Backstory: Born to parents of moderate wealth in the Outer Rim territories, Akaemos knew an easy life growing up. His aptitude for the academic had shown itself earlier in his life, and he breezed through his classes at an alarmingly quick rate. Enrolling in advanced studies at his planet’s premier institute, Akaemos quickly found himself bored by the trite and routine studies that his teachers insisted were necessary to his success. At the age of sixteen, the Chiss decided to abandon the traditional learning routine in favor of more autodidactic methods.
Leaving his home world with nothing but his name and the clothes on his back, Akaemos lent his intellect to whomever would have him.
As it would happen, The Imperial Remnant took especial interest in the young Chiss. Offering their still rather sizable resources and the chance for upward mobility within the Imperial Meritocracy, Akaemos enlisted into the Imperial Reclamation Service as a Xenoarchaelogist. He found great joy in unearthing the ancient artifacts, and by unearthing dark secrets from ages long past Akaemos ascended rapidly through the IRS’ ranks. However, his life would forever be changed on the planet Kesh.
Under what seemed like a whim at the time, Akaemos managed to put pressure on the leaders of IRS to send an expeditionary force to the Takara Mountains on Kesh. Cashing in every favor and dirty trick he had in his arsenal, Akaemos finally received permission to begin a dig in the mountains. After months of searching, the Chiss officer found what he was looking for. A massive temple with towers that seemed to pierce the heavens above sprawled out before him, and he heard the ruins call him forth. Its siren song sang sweetly to him, but only him. His fellows were unwilling to approach the place which rang with Dark Side energy, and so it was Akaemos alone who entered the temple. It was here, among the ruins of and tomes of this temple that the Chiss received the truth of his existence. It was here where he began his initiation into the force. Where he learned of the Sith Lords of old and their shadowy arts. Where Akaemos Fain died, and Darth Eternus was born.
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CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Dorian Thall
Alias: None yet
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Standing at 5'8" and weighing in at a puny 140 lbs, Dorian does not bear the stocky build of his seafaring father. Messy black hair covering teal eyes, he cuts a relatively unimpressive figure among his more developed peers at his high school in the Rise. He dresses himself in a fairly mundane style, jeans and some variation of a t-shirt are his normal fare, but he breaks from status quo by donning his father's sailor jacket. He can constantly be seen in the black and blue material, as wearing it keeps him close to his dad even when he is across the world and under different skies on roiling seas.
Personality: Dorian is a kind-hearted, hardworking sort. Optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds and containing within him the necessary emotional endurance to take a hard moral stance even when it might be easier to sit down and shut up, it is a rare day that one might catch Dorian without a determined smile on his face. He can be a bit of a glory-hound, has far too much ambition for a boy his age, and has a tendency to take other's burdens onto himself, but before anything else Dorian means well.
Biography: For as long as Dorian could remember, his life has been connected to the sea. Raised by a sailor and his wife along the river of the Rise, the boy had spent many a starlit night staring down the river which led out into the open ocean waiting for sign of his father's ship breaking into port. He hoped of growing up to be like his father, a stalwart sailor who laughed as storms tore across his ship and threatened to end his life a night too soon. He lived by his father's stories, tales of far off lands containing mystery and adventure for those brave enough to seek it. His parents promised that as soon as he grew old enough, they would allow him to accompany his dad out onto the dangerous waters which delighted his dreams.
At the age of 13 however, Dorian was laid low by a sickness which racked his young form. The color which filled his cheeks fled from his being, replaced by a pale, melancholic visage. Bright eyes became glassy, and he spent months in bed recovering from what doctors suspected might to be fatal. Though he beat his illness, the disease effectively ruined any chance for Dorian to achieve his dream of sailing alongside his father. Far off goals of seeing new and foreign locales replaced with a disappointed complacency. He satisfied his thirst for discovery with books and learning, showing an adeptness for History and Mythology while attempting to survive the remaining trials of academia. His life had been resigned to that of a normal high school student, and Dorian was beginning to get used to that.
Well, until a voice rang loud in his ear bearing a tone without passion and only mild interest, "There are others like you. They will come for you. Eliminate the competition if you want to survive."
Gifted with strange and fantastic powers, Dorian now juggles his normal teenage life while still learning about his less-than normal abilities. What he'll decide to do with, well Okahame will just have to wait and see.
Super Powers: Liquidation
Dorian possesses that ability to transform his body, in whole or in part, into a homogeneous liquid substance resembling water. He can potentially consciously control every droplet of water in his body, acting akin to an elemental shapeshifter by forming his liquid state into whatever shape is required. Currently, however, Dorian is only capable of turning parts or his whole body into water, unable to take full advantage of his abilities without more intensive practice.
Current Applications:
Alias: None yet
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Standing at 5'8" and weighing in at a puny 140 lbs, Dorian does not bear the stocky build of his seafaring father. Messy black hair covering teal eyes, he cuts a relatively unimpressive figure among his more developed peers at his high school in the Rise. He dresses himself in a fairly mundane style, jeans and some variation of a t-shirt are his normal fare, but he breaks from status quo by donning his father's sailor jacket. He can constantly be seen in the black and blue material, as wearing it keeps him close to his dad even when he is across the world and under different skies on roiling seas.
Personality: Dorian is a kind-hearted, hardworking sort. Optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds and containing within him the necessary emotional endurance to take a hard moral stance even when it might be easier to sit down and shut up, it is a rare day that one might catch Dorian without a determined smile on his face. He can be a bit of a glory-hound, has far too much ambition for a boy his age, and has a tendency to take other's burdens onto himself, but before anything else Dorian means well.
Biography: For as long as Dorian could remember, his life has been connected to the sea. Raised by a sailor and his wife along the river of the Rise, the boy had spent many a starlit night staring down the river which led out into the open ocean waiting for sign of his father's ship breaking into port. He hoped of growing up to be like his father, a stalwart sailor who laughed as storms tore across his ship and threatened to end his life a night too soon. He lived by his father's stories, tales of far off lands containing mystery and adventure for those brave enough to seek it. His parents promised that as soon as he grew old enough, they would allow him to accompany his dad out onto the dangerous waters which delighted his dreams.
At the age of 13 however, Dorian was laid low by a sickness which racked his young form. The color which filled his cheeks fled from his being, replaced by a pale, melancholic visage. Bright eyes became glassy, and he spent months in bed recovering from what doctors suspected might to be fatal. Though he beat his illness, the disease effectively ruined any chance for Dorian to achieve his dream of sailing alongside his father. Far off goals of seeing new and foreign locales replaced with a disappointed complacency. He satisfied his thirst for discovery with books and learning, showing an adeptness for History and Mythology while attempting to survive the remaining trials of academia. His life had been resigned to that of a normal high school student, and Dorian was beginning to get used to that.
Well, until a voice rang loud in his ear bearing a tone without passion and only mild interest, "There are others like you. They will come for you. Eliminate the competition if you want to survive."
Gifted with strange and fantastic powers, Dorian now juggles his normal teenage life while still learning about his less-than normal abilities. What he'll decide to do with, well Okahame will just have to wait and see.
Super Powers: Liquidation
Dorian possesses that ability to transform his body, in whole or in part, into a homogeneous liquid substance resembling water. He can potentially consciously control every droplet of water in his body, acting akin to an elemental shapeshifter by forming his liquid state into whatever shape is required. Currently, however, Dorian is only capable of turning parts or his whole body into water, unable to take full advantage of his abilities without more intensive practice.
Current Applications:
- Water Form: Dorian can turn parts or his whole body into a liquid-like state. This allows him to escape the majority of mundane harm, and should a part of his body ever be separated from its whole while in liquid state, Dorian can simply reclaim the limb by touching water. He cannot currently increase or decrease his mass while in his liquid state. Even if completely submerged in water he will retain his original shape and mass.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Seven
"I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul."
-William Ernest Henry
The Future - Mystery Skulls
| Full Name |
Project "Kaissa Applied": Soldier #7
| Nickname |
Sev
| Alias |
N/A
| Age |
44, but has only been operational for about 3 months.
| Species |
Synthetic Intelligence
| Gender |
N/A
| Sexuality |
Asexual (Currently has no concept of sexuality or romance)
| Alignment |
True Neutral
| In-Depth Appearance |
Seven, despite its inorganic nature, bears a fairly humanoid shape. Its chassis holds a gun-metal grey tinge, with exposed synthetic muscle wrapping around its chest, arms and legs. The robot looks as if a sculpture was given life, every twitch and twinge of well defined muscle eerily human-like in its appearance. The frame of the A.I. is scratched and slightly dented, showing signs of its 40 something years of existence. Seven looms at a solid 6'0', but its imposing stature does not belay the curiously playful look in the robot's amber eyes.
It hasn't had especial use for clothes in its brief operating time, but Seven has been provided a set of clothes to better help the robot blend into human society. The blue coat and hoodie combined it wears with brown pants and work boots do make Seven seem less intimidating, but not by any measurable amount. Seven doesn't really care much for clothes, but it has been reminded a number of times that humans find its nakedness 'off-putting' and 'indecent'. Example here.
| Abilities |
Robotic Physiology: As a synthetic life-form, Seven has no need to breathe, eat, sleep, or perform other basic biological functions. Seven's chassis is also much more durable than that of humans, made out of titanium alloy that can and has taken quite a bit of punishment in the past. Its speed and strength are only slightly above that of a human in peak condition, capable of lifting 1 ton and moving at 35 mph.
Learning Algorithm: Unlike other, more simplistic programs, Seven contains within it the unique software that allows him to learn and adapt to his surroundings. This algorithm allows Seven a eidietic memory, presenting it with perfect recall of information already learned. Given time and experience, Seven will be able to grow and learn as humans do. Given enough social interaction, Seven might even eventually be able to develop a personality wholly individual to itself, instead of the rudimentary 'serve, survive, and learn protocols' it has currently.
Technological Assimilation: Seven is able to take a piece of technology and assimilate both its hardware and software into its operating unit. Once incorporated into the unit, Seven can freely use and reproduce the technology as it was intended to be used through a system of nanite reconstruction. If it assimilated a cellphone, it could make calls and connect to the internet. If it incorporated a gun, Seven could fire it with the limited number of rounds the weapon had in it.
Current Machines:
- Cellphone: Connects to the World Wide Web. Capable of texting, calling, and otherwise communicating with others who have access to the internet
| Limitations |
This assimilation ability is strictly limited to technological tools or weapons, and only objects one could conceivably fit into a vaguely humanoid sized figure. For example, Seven could easily assimilate a cellphone as it is a compact piece of equipment, but it could not incorporate a car into its unit.
Seven has to be able to touch the technology in order to assimilate it.
Seven's Assimilation ability risks overheating the unit. The more complex the piece of machinery and the longer Seven attempts to use it, the more heat is generated inside the unit's chassis. If Seven overheats, it will vent the excess heat in a process that takes about a minute to complete. During this venting period, Seven can only preform rudimentary functions and places its survival above anyone else.
Seven also lacks the distinctly human characteristics of duplicity and subtlety, oftentimes only using its amazing abilities in an alarmingly straightforward way. It is motivated to achieve its goals in the most efficient way possible. Ask it to untie a knot, it will cut the knot in half. Ask it to disarm a combatant, and Seven might take those orders a bit too literally.
| Equipment |
A hoodie given to him so that he might better hide his synthetic characteristics and repair kit to perform basic maintenance.
| Personality |
Soldier Seven has only one remaining directive, one shred of code that drives its continual existence: learn. A boundless curiosity consumes the robot's every waking moment, and the synthetic intelligence has an almost child-like wonder to it when it discovers something new. For all its love of discovery and understanding, Seven still only has a rudimentary understanding of social interaction. It can often say the wrong thing at the wrong time, or ask a pointed question that unknowingly cuts through the barrier of social politeness. Morality also remains a point of contention that Seven doesn't quite grasp. It understands lawfulness and unlawfulness, but hasn't yet quite grasped the more nuanced aspects of good and evil or the emotional components that play into decision making. Seven knows it should help organic life, but still requires guidance on when its help is merited and when punishment should be dealt to those who deserve it.
| Place Of Origin |
Institute for Theoretical and Experimental Physics
Moscow, Russia
| Family |
Georgy Adelson-Velsky (Creator, deceased)
Soldiers 1-6 (Brothers, deceased, lost, or otherwise deactivated)
| History |
The 1980s were a time of paralyzing fear and desperate invention. The Metahuman Cold War was in full swing, and every nation under the sun was toiling to create the next big mechanism of war. A weapon to end the fight before it began or a warrior that could carry a nation to victory. Soldier Seven was intended to be both.
The Institute for Theoretical and Experimental Physics in Moscow, Russia would be Seven's birthplace, and Georgy Adelson-Velsky would be the father who forced Seven into being. Brought onto the Soviet's radar after the success of his Kaissa chess computer program, Georgy was recruited with a number of other Soviet scientists to create for them the perfect killing machine. The project, codenamed "Kaissa Applied", was given unlimited funding and access to rare and previously unknown materials in order to accomplish their governments goal. But while other scientist only saw this project as a highway to success or a science project to ensure their place in the history books, Georgy saw an opportunity amidst the ambition. He saw the "Kaissa Applied" project as a chance, perhaps his only chance, to push the bounds of scientific thought; to create not a dealer of death, but a living, thinking machine. Utilizing his computational genius, his fellow scientists, and the near-endless resources of an incensed Soviet Russia, Georgy set to work to create what would become the world's first artificial intelligence.
It took six failures and six years to find the success that would be Soldier Seven. Not only did Georgy invent a machine capable of intelligent thought and adaptive thinking, but the Soviet's meta-geniuses managed to create a chassis capable of protecting the computer-scientist's legacy. Harder than steel, containing a ruthless intelligence, and bearing an almost impossible ability to incorporate technology into its system, Russia had gotten exactly what they wanted. A perfect, relentless killing machine. Georgy, however, couldn't stand to think of his creation being used to tear families apart and raze whole cities to the ground. He had so much more imagined for his wondrous invention beyond being a tool for the machinations of would-be conquers. In the dead of night the scientist and his creation stole away, running to Georgy's colleagues in Chernobyl. From there, the scientist planned to contact the Powerbound Alliance, turning traitor if it meant his legacy would become more than that of a weapons creator.
1986 turned out to be a bad year for both Georgy and Chernobyl. It took one wayward nuclear disaster and the following death of his creator, and Seven was left lost, deactivated in an irradiated Chernobyl.
38 years later, and the Powerbound alliance was sweeping Chernobyl in its latest attempt to cleanse the area of the radiation which still poisoned it. A cleaning effort near the reactor revealed Seven, buried under a pile of slag in what would have been its tomb. The Alliance recovered the robot, activating it to find Seven half-mad and malfunctioning to an extreme degree. Three months of intensive repair by some of the world's top minds, and only two things became apparent. Seven's abilities of assimilation, and its status as a burgeoning artificial intelligence. Given its unique position, unknown history, and wide gaps in both knowledge and application, the Powerbound Alliance made the decision to treat Seven as metahuman; sending to where all metahumans went to learn and train.
With the eyes of the Alliance watching its development with intense interest, Seven has been tasked to head to Powerbound Academy in Northern Oregon. Here, it will learn and grow with the rest of this world's youngest metas, perhaps even finding a new primary directive along the way.
| Extra |
Seven is fluent in Russian, English, and Computer Code. It speaks all human languages in a slightly strange way, sounding far too formal and forgoing slang in favor of otherwise outdated words.
Face Claim: The Prototype Robot from the trailer The Prototype.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
"We can be anywhere. In the shadows. In the light. We'll be here. And we'll be watching."
Your Name: CallSignCorsair
Character Name: Tyrone Johnson
Character Alias: Cloak
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Character Age: 17
Character Appearance: Tyrone stands at a lean 5'9 and weighs in at 180 lbs. While he may not cut an especially intimidating figure among the gods and giants which have taken residence in New York City, Tyrone stalks the shadows of the Big Apple with the intensity of a man who has been consumed by a mission. Never caught out of uniform after the experiments at Roxxon, the only sign that Cloak is off duty is when he pulls down his hood. Underneath the dark hood Tyrone proudly displays the dagger tattoos which lay on his shorn skull, a tribute to his closest friend and one-time love of his life.
Characters Abilities:
Darkforce Conduit: Cloak's body is a portal to the "Darkforce Dimension," a world of strange ebony energy. Cloak is linked to a pocket realm of that dimension dominated by the Predator, which compels Cloak to absorb the life forces of other beings. Cloak cannot sate his hunger through any other means, and no longer has any need to eat, drink, or breath as normal humans do.
Darkforce Channeling: Cloak can channel Darkforce to create a field of darkness in his general vicinity, usually using his cloak as a focal point to manipulate this darkness, though it can spread well beyond the confines of his cloak. People enveloped by Cloak's darkness feel numbing cold and crippling fear, sometimes seeing disturbing visions. Overlong exposure to the darkness can drive people insane. Unprotected victims trapped in Cloak's dark realm are gradually drained of their life force, and presumably die unless Cloak releases them.
Darkforce Teleportation: Cloak can teleport by entering the Darkforce dimension, moving a short distance within it and emerging back on Earth a great distance from his point of origin. A span of miles on Earth can be traversed in only a few steps via shortcuts through the Darkforce. Cloak can teleport other persons or objects along with himself in this fashion as well.
Darkforce Intangibility: As Cloak, Tyrone is usually intangible, though he can solidify through an act of will. Tyrone's link to the Darkforce has been severed occasionally, but he seems drawn to the darkness and vice versa, and he always regains his Cloak form eventually. Though intangible, Tyrone is in no ways immune to harm while in his cloak form. Lasers and other light based weaponry can harm Tyrone, and when he solidifies he becomes just as an easy target as any other normal teenager.
Characters Skills:
Stealth: Tyrone is a being of darkness, and shadows seem to cling to him. He is like a living ghost, able to teleport just about anywhere and phase through just about anything, and possesses and extreme aptitude for remaining undetected due to his abilities.
Intimidation: Over his brief tenure as a vigilante, Tyrone has discovered a gift for terrorizing criminals and employees of Roxxon Corporation alike. The Darkforce Dimension often whispers what fears lie in the hearts of those he hunts, and as Cloak he has used this talent, in combination when the powers he has gained, to quite literally scare enemies to death.
Acting: Ty is a talented actor, landing many lead roles during his time at Forest Hills High School. He has a knack for performance and deception, but still has much room for growth.
Origin Story:
2016
Tyrone, or 'Ty' as his friends call him, Johnson lived grew up in a fairly average home in the Forest Hills neighborhood in Queens, New York. His parents loved him, he had a close relationship with his younger sister and a loving but distant relationship with his older brother. He was student class president at Forest Hill high school, captain of the debate team and star of the theatre department, and even dating the girl of his dreams; class president of Midtown High Tandy Bowen. In Ty's eyes, his life was perfect. He had just gotten accepted to Harvard on a Pre-Law scholarship, and had saved up enough cash to rent out a limousine for Tandy and his senior prom night.
Then came the car crash.
It happened so suddenly. One moment Tandy and Ty were laughing at what a dork he was being, and the next their car is wrapped around the front end of a hummer. Ty and Tandy are comatose, placed in the same hospital room as each other as they cling to life. That's when Roxxon stepped in. Roxxon had saw in Ty and Tandy a chance to use them as guinea pigs in their attempts to create a new form of super-soldier. Sending their associate Mister Negative to capture the two and falsify their death reports, Roxxon had gotten the live test-subjects they wanted so badly. They experimented on both of them with all manner of dark magics, drawing from the Darkhold to infuse both teenagers with eldritch abilities. Surprisingly, both children's bodies withstood the rigors of the ancient energies infused in their bodies, but at the cost of becoming something more than human. Ty had become a creature of shadows, drinking off the light and lifeforce of others in order to sustain himself. Tandy had the opposite effect, becoming a being of light and the only one who could keep Ty in-check. Having gotten their super-soldiers, Roxxon began pushing the two's newfound abilities in an attempt to create their ultimate corporate protector.
That was their first mistake. The other was letting Ty talk to his fellow lab rats, rally a force enough to escape, and destroy the research they had on creating those magic men and women. It was in this rebellion that Tandy gave her life to give Ty and the others time enough to escape past Roxxon's teleportation baffles, and it was in this rebellion that Ty truly became Cloak.
It has been four months since Ty's escape from Roxxon. For four months Ty has been building up his strength as Cloak, establishing a home base in the Holy Ghost Church, an ally in the homeless man Moe, and hunting down leads on Roxxon. For four months, Ty has harbored his hatred for his one-time captors and the men who took Tandy away from him.
After four months of stalking the streets of New York, the time for Ty's revenge has finally come.
Story Arcs:
Business of Revenge- Finally free of Roxxon's control, Tyrone hunts down Roxxon employees left and right. Whomever was responsible for turning him into what he was and taking Tandy from him had to pay.
Hello Darkness my Old Friend- Tyrone receives a black envelope containing strange, runic writing from a man calling himself the 'Darkhold Dwarf'. The man promises him knowledge about the source of his powers, what drove the hunger which consumed his being, and even power enough to get Tandy back from the dead.
Jumping at Shadows- Tyrone enters the Darkforce Dimension to confront the Predator, but only finds madness and despair instead.
Supporting Cast:
Allies:
Tandy Bowen- Tyrone's high school sweetheart and fellow labrat at Roxxon, the memory of her and his inability to save her haunts Tyrone to this day. Tyrone feels as though she speaks to him every now and then, but is quick to dismiss that as a delusional hope.
Victoria Montesi- Leader of the Midnight Sons, Victoria seeks to find someway to cleanse Tyrone or put him down. Either way, she will prevent Chthon's accession into this world by any means necessary. (Currently Unknown to Tyrone).
Modred "Moe" the Mystic- Wizard of great might and a fellow victim of the Darkhold, Modred feels a great sense of duty to tutor and guide Tyrone away from the clutches of Chthon and towards the hero he knows he can be. All he is to Tyrone currently is the homeless man whom he takes care of, confides in, and sometimes offers the teenager some sage advice.
Sylvie Lushton- A fellow escapee from Roxxton's magical experiments, has decided to attempt to live a normal life despite her growing magical abilities and Tyrone's many attempts to persuade her to take up his crusade. She worries for Tyrone and how far he is willing to go in order to hurt Roxxon, but cannot bring herself to face her tormentors.
Enemies:
The Predator/Chthon- Demon of the Darkhold. The Great Shadow. He Who Holds the Darkness. Call him what you will, this is the hunger that drives Cloak to drain the lifeforce of his enemies. He is a constant presence in Tyrone's life, never speaking but always pushing Tyrone to sink deeper into the despair that will one day set him free. (Currently Unknown to Tyrone).
The Darkhold Dwarf- A servant of Chthon and the Darkhold, the Dwarf will show up occasionally to taunt and tempt Tyrone further down the path of madness. (Currently Unknown to Tyrone).
D'Spayre- Chthon's servant within Roxxon, D'Spayre gave the Roxxon Corporation the necessary knowledge to begin mystic experimentation on human test subjects. (Currently Unknown to Tyrone).
Mister Negative- A Chinese crime lord working with Roxxon, Mister Negative is known for his human trafficking and drug trade within New York City. He funnels runaways and others unfortunate enough to come into his grasp to the Roxxon Corporation for a pretty profit.
Dario Agger- CEO of Roxxon Oil Company with a dark, Minotaur-sized secret, Agger made a deal with D'Spayre in order to gain soldier strong enough to protect his interests in whatever realm he decides to strip for oil.
Sample Post:
He was cold.
He was so, damn cold.
He would shiver if he could, but Ty wasn't sure if he even had a body anymore. An ink-black mist poured out of his being, vapors which writhed along the floor as if preforming some sort of mad dance. Ty had to remind himself to breath just to keep calm, and then remember that the last breath he took was four days ago. The panic would then start in again. Whispers would jump out from the fog just to tease and taunt him, speaking in a language foreign and yet chillingly familiar. The words would haunt him, drag him down deeper into that darkness which churned in his body and teeter him past the edge of madness. Down and down and down he went, shedding pieces of himself as alien black onyx replaced blood and bone he had known as a man.
And every time he fell so deep within himself that he no longer could separate the man from the mist, a dot of brilliant light would drag him out from the depths of dwelling darkness.
Tandy, his Tandy, was standing over him, body alight with a blinding white gold light. She radiate warmth, reaching a hand down to touch what had once been his cheek, and suddenly Tyrone was solid again. He was on a cold operating table, chained to its edges with some sort of glowing, glyphed shackle. Muscle and bone reformed, his body stitching itself together after being incorporeal for so long. He felt his eyes form again, and they burned from Tandy's light, but he didn't mind. If he got to see Tandy shine like this every time he reformed, he would never mind. She looked an angel, taking pity on the poor boy she had bound herself to. He loved. He knew more than anything he loved Tandy Bowen with whatever remained of his soul. His eyes met hers, and he felt his dead lungs burn to life with air. He could breathe. He could speak.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the smoke poured out again. Sickly, onyx black it overtook Tandy's bright form in a matter of seconds. It hungered for the light, tore the girl he loved piece by piece all while she stared endlessly into his eyes. The smoke hungered, and it would feed. Ty hungered, and he would feed.
Frantic and wild-eyed, Ty shot up from the pile of boxes that served as his bed and forced the sleep form his eyes. He scanned the room he was in with panicked thoroughness, and, realizing that he was in the abandoned church and not a Roxxon experimentation room, stilled his anxious searching. The sweeping, gothic features of the Holy Ghost Church overtook the cold, clinical cell of his nightmare. Instead of Tandy standing over him, there was Moe, his homeless friend and part-time caretaker, staring at him with worry.
"You ok there pal? Look like you've seen a ghost or something," Moe inquired, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Ty's shoulder.
Ty let the hand phase through him, hurriedly standing up and gathering himself. It had been weeks since the last time he had felt the need to fall asleep, and the teenager didn't enjoy the nightmare that nap had brought about. Seeing Tandy like that, remembing what Roxxon did to them, it didn't sit well with the vigilante. He felt restless, anxious. Angry. Like he had glimpsed at a storm and couldn't do anything but sit and wait for it to arrive.
"Pal?" Moe inquired again.
"I'm fine," came Ty's curt reply. "I'm going for a walk. Don't wait up for me. It's gonna be a long night."
Moe drew back a bit. He didn't exactly know what Ty did during his walks, but it was an unstated fact that the 'walks' were most likely violent and unpleasant. The old man sighed, but nodded. He resumed his relaxed position at one of the church's pew. "Just...take care of yourself, alright?"
Ty didn't respond. The teenager simply pulled up his hood, drew the about him the onyx darkness which infected the church, and teleported far from the holy building. Where he was going, he didn't know. Matter of fact, Ty didn't know much of anything nowadays. He didn't know why Roxxon had taken him and Tandy for their experiments. He didn't know what was happening to his body, or why he kept having these damnable visions of killing the girl he loved.
All he knew was the hunger. It was old, it was dark, and it demanded that Ty feasted this night.
He smiled as he drifted through the starry-night of New York City. He knew this hunger well, it had been his constant companion since he had become the creature he was today. And it was a hunger that Roxxon would know soon enough.
He would make sure that the darkness that dwelled within him would have its full tonight. God save the fool who got in his way.
He was so, damn cold.
He would shiver if he could, but Ty wasn't sure if he even had a body anymore. An ink-black mist poured out of his being, vapors which writhed along the floor as if preforming some sort of mad dance. Ty had to remind himself to breath just to keep calm, and then remember that the last breath he took was four days ago. The panic would then start in again. Whispers would jump out from the fog just to tease and taunt him, speaking in a language foreign and yet chillingly familiar. The words would haunt him, drag him down deeper into that darkness which churned in his body and teeter him past the edge of madness. Down and down and down he went, shedding pieces of himself as alien black onyx replaced blood and bone he had known as a man.
And every time he fell so deep within himself that he no longer could separate the man from the mist, a dot of brilliant light would drag him out from the depths of dwelling darkness.
Tandy, his Tandy, was standing over him, body alight with a blinding white gold light. She radiate warmth, reaching a hand down to touch what had once been his cheek, and suddenly Tyrone was solid again. He was on a cold operating table, chained to its edges with some sort of glowing, glyphed shackle. Muscle and bone reformed, his body stitching itself together after being incorporeal for so long. He felt his eyes form again, and they burned from Tandy's light, but he didn't mind. If he got to see Tandy shine like this every time he reformed, he would never mind. She looked an angel, taking pity on the poor boy she had bound herself to. He loved. He knew more than anything he loved Tandy Bowen with whatever remained of his soul. His eyes met hers, and he felt his dead lungs burn to life with air. He could breathe. He could speak.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the smoke poured out again. Sickly, onyx black it overtook Tandy's bright form in a matter of seconds. It hungered for the light, tore the girl he loved piece by piece all while she stared endlessly into his eyes. The smoke hungered, and it would feed. Ty hungered, and he would feed.
Frantic and wild-eyed, Ty shot up from the pile of boxes that served as his bed and forced the sleep form his eyes. He scanned the room he was in with panicked thoroughness, and, realizing that he was in the abandoned church and not a Roxxon experimentation room, stilled his anxious searching. The sweeping, gothic features of the Holy Ghost Church overtook the cold, clinical cell of his nightmare. Instead of Tandy standing over him, there was Moe, his homeless friend and part-time caretaker, staring at him with worry.
"You ok there pal? Look like you've seen a ghost or something," Moe inquired, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Ty's shoulder.
Ty let the hand phase through him, hurriedly standing up and gathering himself. It had been weeks since the last time he had felt the need to fall asleep, and the teenager didn't enjoy the nightmare that nap had brought about. Seeing Tandy like that, remembing what Roxxon did to them, it didn't sit well with the vigilante. He felt restless, anxious. Angry. Like he had glimpsed at a storm and couldn't do anything but sit and wait for it to arrive.
"Pal?" Moe inquired again.
"I'm fine," came Ty's curt reply. "I'm going for a walk. Don't wait up for me. It's gonna be a long night."
Moe drew back a bit. He didn't exactly know what Ty did during his walks, but it was an unstated fact that the 'walks' were most likely violent and unpleasant. The old man sighed, but nodded. He resumed his relaxed position at one of the church's pew. "Just...take care of yourself, alright?"
Ty didn't respond. The teenager simply pulled up his hood, drew the about him the onyx darkness which infected the church, and teleported far from the holy building. Where he was going, he didn't know. Matter of fact, Ty didn't know much of anything nowadays. He didn't know why Roxxon had taken him and Tandy for their experiments. He didn't know what was happening to his body, or why he kept having these damnable visions of killing the girl he loved.
All he knew was the hunger. It was old, it was dark, and it demanded that Ty feasted this night.
He smiled as he drifted through the starry-night of New York City. He knew this hunger well, it had been his constant companion since he had become the creature he was today. And it was a hunger that Roxxon would know soon enough.
He would make sure that the darkness that dwelled within him would have its full tonight. God save the fool who got in his way.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
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N I G H T C R A W L E R
Kurt Wagner, 19 (b. 1949)Morlock based in The Alley, New York/New Jersey/Connecticut
Active since approximately 1967
Alone. Hunted. Afraid. This is how Kurt Wagner enters America in 1968, fleeing from the horrid memories of his previous life in Germany. A stranger in a strange land, this version of Nightcrawler is searching for safe haven in America, for a place he can call home and a family he can rely upon. He'll be facing the challenges that an immigrant and someone with such an obvious mutation as he does would be during one of the most contentious times in America. Through his eyes I will be exploring the themes of discrimination, family, and enduring optimism in the face of resolute hate. I want to take a very honest look at how somehow like Kurt Wagner would adapt to the rapidly changing circumstances in America. How he would find family and hope in the Morlocks, and how far he would go to protect his newfound home.
A big thing I want to emphasize is that Kurt will be exploring a part of the mutant world that isn't especially emphasized. While Xavier and Magneto fight for mutant equality, Nightcrawler is simply fighting for mutant survival among those who, for the most part, can't hide their mutations. He and the Morlocks are operating on a much more micro-level than the other advocates, defending mutants if they can afford to, offering sanctuary and family, but overall just wishing that humans would let them live in peace.
Or, as Kurt might quote, "...on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." Matthew 16:18
I'll get to a detailed history fairly soon.
- Callisto
Leader and founder of the Morlocks, Callisto is the only authority to in the underground society which formed in response to the mutant scare. An effective tactician, a fiercly loyal friend, and bearing the brutal honesty necessary for her position, there is no doubt that Callisto would do anything to protect her fellow Morlocks. As tensions between humans and mutants increase, she has found it increasingly difficult to keep her underground society hidden and out of the conflict which rages above them on the streets of New York. - Caliban
A pale, freakish mutant, Caliban serves as Callisto's chief adviser and only mutant tracker. One of the founders of the Morlocks, Caliban at times feels like Callisto's focus on isolation and defense is not enough, but ultimately stands with his friend. Caliban is a lonely sort, either found in Callisto's company or no one's, and often feels under appreciated for the services he offers his fellow Morlocks. - Killer Croc
A brutal and imposing figure, Croc mostly keeps to the New Jersey section of the alley, enjoying life underneath Gotham. Rumors have start to spread of his tangles with GCPD as well as his...particular appetite, and as such most other Morlocks tend to stay away from his territory. - Leech
A friendly and naive sort, Leech proves to be one of the youngest Morlocks currently living underground (currently age twelve). He, due to his power nullification mutation, proves to be also one of the most powerful. A bit of a controversial figure among the his adopted family, as some enjoy the feeling of being normal while others feel like it takes away from their identity. - Rahne Sinclair
One of the few mutants living underground that could pass for human, Rahne lives with the Morlocks as she feels she has nowhere else to go. Excommunicated as a teenager by her adopted family on the grounds of her "unholy mutation", Rahne has lived with the outcasted folk ever since.
Reference One
Reference Two
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CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
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B A L O R
C O L I N C A I L L E ◼ 5 / 2 8 / 1 9 9 2 ( 2 5 ) ◼ M A L E ◼ D R A O I
"We were gods once. So shall we be again."
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Yes, I am aware that I don't look Irish."
//STATS:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'11"
◼ WEIGHT | 163 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Athletic
◼ HAIR COLOR | Black
◼ EYE COLOR | Brown
◼ ETHNICITY | Asian-Irish
◼ SEXUALITY | Bisexual
◼ WEIGHT | 163 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Athletic
◼ HAIR COLOR | Black
◼ EYE COLOR | Brown
◼ ETHNICITY | Asian-Irish
◼ SEXUALITY | Bisexual
//DESCRIPTION:
Colin is a half-Korean, half-Irish man with short black hair, light skin, and dark, brown eyes. He bear an athletic frame gained from years of training, angular facial features, and carries himself with feline grace expected from someone raised with power. Wrapping around his right bicep is a tattoo bearing the name of his Inmate's group selected sacrifice, spelled in traditional Gaelic. He carries himself with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and has doubt that he will eventually get it. Beneath his smiling eyes and warm grin, there is the faintest hint of a domineering glare that will not be denied what he knows is rightfully his.
In most occasions, Colin can be found wearing an expensive, tailored suit which handsomely shows off the man's cut form. He'll usually couple the suit with an expensive watch from his personal collection, and of course he's never found without his conduit ring. In his rare moments of rest, and when he's absolutely away from prying eyes, the Draoi will shed all pretenses of formality and stick to black v-neck, either a pair of jeans or sweatpants, and comfortable sneakers to finish.
Colin has been fairly westernized, and identifies more with his Irish heritage than his Korean one. His stylistic choices, mannerisms, and cultural interests reflect as such.
In most occasions, Colin can be found wearing an expensive, tailored suit which handsomely shows off the man's cut form. He'll usually couple the suit with an expensive watch from his personal collection, and of course he's never found without his conduit ring. In his rare moments of rest, and when he's absolutely away from prying eyes, the Draoi will shed all pretenses of formality and stick to black v-neck, either a pair of jeans or sweatpants, and comfortable sneakers to finish.
Colin has been fairly westernized, and identifies more with his Irish heritage than his Korean one. His stylistic choices, mannerisms, and cultural interests reflect as such.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"No one's born a Draoi. They have to be made."
Every family has a black sheep, someone who strikes out against the grain to their ancestor's chagrin. Before Colin became that for his family, his mother Ava Caille had the honor of that title. A fiercely independent soul, Colin's mother decided to travel the world instead of following her family's wishes to expand their influence. She saw unimaginable sights and had unbelievable experiences on her journey, but, by her own admission, all of them paled in comparison to Seoul, Korea. She never revealed to her family what exactly happened in Korea, but when she returned to them she carried with her a baby named Colin and a sort of bittersweet joy that never left her. The baby was hers, and the O'Connor family never discovered who the father was, but it didn't matter to them. They were Cailles, and Cailles took care of their own.
Colin was raised no different than any other child that came through his family. The Cailles were a wealthy family with a storied history, and Colin was required to learn it all. Every tale told, all the way back to their Celtic origins, Colin memorized by heart. He had personal trainers and personal tutors to ensure that his mind and body were worthy of the Caille name, and his family soon learned that the passion and fury which so gripped their daughter Ava had found its way into Colin's blood. Even at his young age, Colin was growing to be every bit the fighter his mother was, and she couldn't have been prouder of him.
At age 11, Colin entered the Initiate process and began his journey to become a Draoi. The process was long and intensive, but, against he recommendation of the Elders, Colin's initiate group had grown close and carried the burden together. Unfortunately, the initiate process required a sacrifice, and as such their group lost a good friend the day their souls were bonded to the Alfar. In remembrance, Colin's initiate group tattooed the girl's name, Aine, in Gaelic across their right arms. The Cailles were overjoyed that Colin had survived to become a full-fledged Draoi, and at the age of 16 Colin's true training began in full.
Much of Colin's life after his Rite of Passage was spent wandering Ireland's more remote locals. There he spent a number of years learning among the locals and other Draoi, piecing together a variety of different spells, skills and lore. It was during this time that Colin had learned of the legend of Balor, an ancient Draoi known for his conquest of the Mundanes in Ireland's early times. Though most considered him a radical who threatened the Draoi's already tenuous relationship with normal humans, Colin saw in his tale a sort of truth. He had been taught his entire life that his kind were superior than the Mundanes, so why should the Draoi not rule. Mundanes were short-lived, inventive yes, but also supremely chaotic. They needed a firm hand to guide them. To lead them. To rule them. Here, in his adopted homeland, Colin realized that if his race wanted to survive, they needed to reclaim their status of godhood. Here, Colin decided that it would be he who led that charge. He who would lead man and Draoi alike. He who would be king. He who would be Balor.
Ambition founded and power sought, Colin dedicated himself to the Order. He served them as a warrior, an enforcer, and an investigator, and they provided him with bits of knowledge that would serve both he and them in the future. Recently, the Order has heard tell of a member of the Alexandria Foundation attempting to find knowledge of the Draoi or the Venuri. Booking him a flight to Crescent City, Colin has been sent to either suss out the lost knowledge before the Foundation, or find a way to establish influence with the Foundation Emissary.
Colin was raised no different than any other child that came through his family. The Cailles were a wealthy family with a storied history, and Colin was required to learn it all. Every tale told, all the way back to their Celtic origins, Colin memorized by heart. He had personal trainers and personal tutors to ensure that his mind and body were worthy of the Caille name, and his family soon learned that the passion and fury which so gripped their daughter Ava had found its way into Colin's blood. Even at his young age, Colin was growing to be every bit the fighter his mother was, and she couldn't have been prouder of him.
At age 11, Colin entered the Initiate process and began his journey to become a Draoi. The process was long and intensive, but, against he recommendation of the Elders, Colin's initiate group had grown close and carried the burden together. Unfortunately, the initiate process required a sacrifice, and as such their group lost a good friend the day their souls were bonded to the Alfar. In remembrance, Colin's initiate group tattooed the girl's name, Aine, in Gaelic across their right arms. The Cailles were overjoyed that Colin had survived to become a full-fledged Draoi, and at the age of 16 Colin's true training began in full.
Much of Colin's life after his Rite of Passage was spent wandering Ireland's more remote locals. There he spent a number of years learning among the locals and other Draoi, piecing together a variety of different spells, skills and lore. It was during this time that Colin had learned of the legend of Balor, an ancient Draoi known for his conquest of the Mundanes in Ireland's early times. Though most considered him a radical who threatened the Draoi's already tenuous relationship with normal humans, Colin saw in his tale a sort of truth. He had been taught his entire life that his kind were superior than the Mundanes, so why should the Draoi not rule. Mundanes were short-lived, inventive yes, but also supremely chaotic. They needed a firm hand to guide them. To lead them. To rule them. Here, in his adopted homeland, Colin realized that if his race wanted to survive, they needed to reclaim their status of godhood. Here, Colin decided that it would be he who led that charge. He who would lead man and Draoi alike. He who would be king. He who would be Balor.
Ambition founded and power sought, Colin dedicated himself to the Order. He served them as a warrior, an enforcer, and an investigator, and they provided him with bits of knowledge that would serve both he and them in the future. Recently, the Order has heard tell of a member of the Alexandria Foundation attempting to find knowledge of the Draoi or the Venuri. Booking him a flight to Crescent City, Colin has been sent to either suss out the lost knowledge before the Foundation, or find a way to establish influence with the Foundation Emissary.
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Born of the Alfar, forged in blood, and bade by the Tree of Life and Death. I am a Caille, and we shall rule again."
Colin is consumed by a need to become greater than what he is. Despite being brought up the same as any other Caille child, because of where his father is from, Colin has always felt the need to prove himself worthy of his family's name. He feels he needs to make his family name known everywhere as something to respect and fear. He searches for the power to do this, and the only people he's found who can provide that power is the Order of Draoi. He wants power in order to restore the Draoi, and by extension his family, to their former status of conquerors, kings, and gods.
In Crescent City, Colin is determined to figure out why a member of the Alexandria Foundation is interested in the rumored lost Draoi knowledge, and if the rumors prove to be true, obtain that knowledge for himself and the O'Connor family before any other Draoi or Venari does.
In Crescent City, Colin is determined to figure out why a member of the Alexandria Foundation is interested in the rumored lost Draoi knowledge, and if the rumors prove to be true, obtain that knowledge for himself and the O'Connor family before any other Draoi or Venari does.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"The Vis obeys me. If you're smart, so will you."
//ABILITIES:◼ Draoi Attraction | Like every Draoi, Colin has a sixth sense regarding the location of other Draoi and is naturally attracted to them.
◼ Extended Lifespans | Having one's soul bonded to an Alfar has done wonders for the health and vigor of the Draoi. They live well past human lives, rarely get sick, and have the potential to extend their lifespan even further if they absorb an Alfar soul form another Draoi,
◼ Magic | Having survived his Initiation and been judged worthy by the Elders of his Order, Colin has access to Vis and can cast some novice level spells and a couple of more advance spells. He has a particular talent towards the school of Nox.
- The Blight of Balor II- Tapping into the Nox, Colin can force those whom he locks eyes with to experience brief feelings of dread or terror. These effects last for ten minutes or so, and make the target feel at ill-ease with either their environment and the people which inhabit it. With Colin's increased understanding of this spell, so too do new applications arise. At his discretion, and once a target is hit with the initial spell effect, Colin can incite feelings of extreme panic and inflict temporary blindness for a brief 10 second period. (Nox/Instantaneous/Range: Eye-contact)
- Morrigan's Call I- Putting his mouth to his conduit, channeling Vis, and chanting a rhyme in honor of the Morrigan in Gaelic, Colin can summon two crows to aid him and his goals. The crows follow his directions to the best of their abilities, and Colin may see through their eyes if so wishes, but have no addition enhancements besides that of their natural form. They last until their duration is up, after which they vanish in a puff of smoke. (Nox/Casting time: 30 seconds/Duration: 30 minutes).
- Break the Looking Glass I- Colin channels his Vis through his conduit, and the object the conduit is touching breaks in a relatively minor way. This can be anything from a mechanism in a lock, or a firing pin in a gun, but Colin must know what he wants to effect with this spell. (Nox/Instantaneous/Touch)
- Balefire II- A jet of otherworldly fire jumps to life at the tip of Colin's conduit. The flame is intensely hot, and could easily cause severe burns or set alight flammable objects, and can leap from Colin's conduit and at a target if he so wishes. (Nox/Concentration/Touch and Range: 25 feet).
- Macha's Blessing I- A spell of the Lux school, Colin's version of the basic protection spell forms in the shape of a clear, medium sized shield. This wall of force proves most effective at defending against enemy spell-casters, but can also protect against small-arms fire. Anything more powerful than a pistol, however, will likely shred through the shield. (Lux/Concentration/Personal)
//SKILLS:
◼ Draoi History and Traditions: | From an old and ancient family of Draoi, Colin was educated about their history and traditions even before he entered the order as an Initiate. He is well-versed in the history and stories of his people, as well as the traditions which connect them to the Tree of Life and Death.
◼ Old Money: | Colin's family has been around for a lon, long time, and as such have thousands of years worth of wealth to fall back on. Houses and safe-houses scattered across the world, allies in federal and state government, and a large amount of spending money, life is good for those born of Alfar blood.
◼ Arcane Scrapper: | When one thinks of wizards, old, frail men with wizened faces and white beards spring to mind. Such a description couldn't farther from the truth for the Draoi. The race once considered gods before being hunted to near-extinction by the Venari, the Order ensured that its Initiates were well trained to combat the world around them. Colin in particular practices an old form of Gallic wrestling combined with the modern form of Krav Maga, peppering in spells to supplement his effectiveness as needed.
◼ Blood of the Tyrants: | A dominant presence in any room, Colin doesn't just invite people to think of him as a leader, he demands it. Aggressively assertive, pragmatic, and bearing with him a streak of ruthlessness that ensures he'll get what needs to be done, Colin has all the makings of a conqueror forged in fire. He will protect his people, the costs be damned.
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Knowledge: | While Colin has a few years of study and application under his belt, the potential of Vis is limitless. Despite his studies, he has a lot to learn about the Vis, the challenges of being a Draoi, and even about the Tree of Life and Death itself. Simply put, his Vis-usage is only as powerful as his understanding of the spell allows it to be. He can't cast something he doesn't know, and he can't will a spell to be more powerful if the theory isn't there.
◼ One Thing at a Time: | Every spell requires it be cast through a conduit, and every conduit can only cast one spell at a time. Colin, like most Draoi, cannot subvert this rule of magic. For example, he could cast Macha's Blessing I, but could not also cast Balefire II at the same time.
◼ Conduit: | Unless he wants to end up a cautionary tale that young initiates whisper among themselves in the dark, Colin requires a conduit in order to cast spells. To do otherwise would invite death.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Control Issues | TestIf there are shots to be called, Colin needs to be the one calling them. If he isn't, unless of course the leader in question has earned his respect, one can expect the man to become contrary, rude, and overall uncooperative.
◼ Ruthless | In Colin's eyes, the ends justify the means nearly every time. If his goals are at risk of failure, there are few lines that the Draoi would not be willing to cross to ensure his success
◼ Arrogance | Colin was raised his entire life being taught that his kind were meant to rule, and as such he has a tendency to think that Mundanes are meant to be led by those with the power to do so. He doesn't think this with malicious intent, however, but has simply been taught that the Draoi must lead for the Mundane's own good.
◼ Squishy Bits | As powerful as they might be, the Draoi are still made of flesh and blood. If caught unawares, Colin will go down as easy as the Mundanes he purports to be better than.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
◼ Ava Caille | Colin's mother and former world traveler. Always willing to lend some advice, listen, or point Colin in the right direction
◼ Walt O'Connor | Caille family friend, on-and-off-again Bruisin' Boyle, hedge mage, and Colin's Order of the Draoi contact. Stubborn, sarcastic, and bearing a delightfully wicked streak for an old man, Walt is determined to look after Colin as a favor to Ava.
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ Ava Caille | Colin's mother and former world traveler. Always willing to lend some advice, listen, or point Colin in the right direction
◼ Walt O'Connor | Caille family friend, on-and-off-again Bruisin' Boyle, hedge mage, and Colin's Order of the Draoi contact. Stubborn, sarcastic, and bearing a delightfully wicked streak for an old man, Walt is determined to look after Colin as a favor to Ava.
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ The Venari | A Draoi's worst nightmare, no user of the Vis is truly safe from these hunters
◼ TBD | Test
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ North City House | An old but elegant house the Caille family is renting for Colin's stay in Crescent City.
◼ Whispering Woods | An eerie forest which reminds Colin a bit of Ireland. He's gone exploring one or twice, but still has much to uncover from the wild woods.
◼ Whispering Woods | An eerie forest which reminds Colin a bit of Ireland. He's gone exploring one or twice, but still has much to uncover from the wild woods.
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ Caille Family Signet Ring | A silver ring detailing the wearer's blood connection to the Caille family, Colin received this upon his gaining the Initiate title. This ring serves as his conduit and most prized possession.
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CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
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F I V E R ( W. I. P.)
A L A N S T R O U D ◼ 1 / 29 / 1999 ( 1 8 ) ◼ M A L E ◼ M U N D A N E
"Be cunning, and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed."
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"I'm working on my Doctorate, I really don't have time to care about appearances."
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'7"
◼ WEIGHT | 137 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Slim and nonathletic.
◼ HAIR COLOR | Brown.
◼ EYE COLOR | Brown.
◼ 'Fiver' Exo-Suit Adjustments | While inside the 'Fiver' Exo-Suit, Alan stands at roughly 8 feet tall, and jumps to 567 lbs. His voice is modulated heavily to hide his identity, deepening it to an intimidating bass.
◼ WEIGHT | 137 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Slim and nonathletic.
◼ HAIR COLOR | Brown.
◼ EYE COLOR | Brown.
◼ 'Fiver' Exo-Suit Adjustments | While inside the 'Fiver' Exo-Suit, Alan stands at roughly 8 feet tall, and jumps to 567 lbs. His voice is modulated heavily to hide his identity, deepening it to an intimidating bass.
//DESCRIPTION:
His brown hair a barely contained mess, brown eyes bearing deep purple bags from too late nights at the lab, and skin pale from lack of exposure to the outdoors; haphazard proves an apt description of how Alan appears on a day to day basis. Appearing skinny and far too overworked for someone of his age, the trials of academic achievement show plainly on his otherwise young face. Alan carries himself with a sort of nervous, jittery energy that keeps him in a constant state of movement. His mind never stops working, never stops racing, and as such neither does Alan. When working, Alan's rapid movements carry with them the quiet intensity of a man who will never let a problem go unsolved.
Alan can be caught wearing whatever is the most comfortable. Sweatshirts, loose pants, torn-up sneakers, and an array of white shirts stained with grease, it proves obvious that Alan has better things to think about than his appearance. However, when it comes to his Exo-Suit, however, the PHD student takes extreme pride in its upkeep and maintenance.
Alan can be caught wearing whatever is the most comfortable. Sweatshirts, loose pants, torn-up sneakers, and an array of white shirts stained with grease, it proves obvious that Alan has better things to think about than his appearance. However, when it comes to his Exo-Suit, however, the PHD student takes extreme pride in its upkeep and maintenance.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"I'm not a fan of my old life, so I'm building a better one."
This is the story of your character's life, their defining moments nd how they made it from the womb to where they are now. You can include as much other details as you think is necessary but don't go overboard and spell everything out. Sometimes its best to show through the IC than to tell in the CS.
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Give me some scrap metal and a welder's torch, and I'll build you the impossible."
What is driving your character? What makes them tick? Why do they act the way they do.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"No more prototypes, no more test trials. It's time show them what I can do."
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ HUMAN | Alan is a human through and through. His skin can't stop bullets, he can't kill people with his mind, and he can't fling fire from his fingertips. If he gets sloppy or stupid, he will die. However, with this mortality, comes the knowledge and perspective necessary to make a mark with the limited time he has.
//SKILLS:
◼ GENIUS | Alan's intelligence, especially within his specialty of computer science, robotics, and engineering, is far above that of anyone his age. He is a pioneer in his field, extremely creative and innovative, and able to puzzle out solutions to complex problems at a rapid pace. An inventor and one of the top thinker's in his generation, Alan's mind is truly his greatest weapon.
◼ ENGINEER | Bearing an innate understanding of how machines work, only bolstered by his years studying, Alan is a master of all things mechanical. Field repairs, gadgeteering, invention, mathematical application, all such fall within the realm of his expertise.
◼ COMPUTER SCIENCE | Coding, and its unpleasant bedfellow hacking, is a subject that Alan is intimately familiar with. Though engineering is his true passion, he is no slouch in this field either, creating advanced programs that push the boundaries of interactive computing programs.
◼ EXO-SUIT PILOT | The inventor and first pilot of his cutting-edge 'Fiver' exo-suit, Alan has spent many hours in simulation and in the field piloting his machine. To him, it is almost an extension of his own body.
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ CHARGE LEVEL | Though its power source is efficient, it is limited. Currently, the 'Fiver' exo-suit can sustain seven hours of operation before a recharge is needed. Dependent on where this power is allocated, the operational time can be lengthened or shortened.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ HEMOPHILIA | A disease that prevent's his blood from clotting, if Alan sustains an injury there is a serious chance that he might bleed out. The 'Fiver' suit has some redundancies and automated functions to help mitigate this factor, however this still remains a serious issue, especially if Alan engages in combat outside of his suit.
◼ OVERLOAD | A mechanical weakness of the Fiver suit that infuriates Alan, if the suit is over-exposed to an electrical current, it will initiate a manual restart which leaves the suit and its wearer vulnerable for a full minute.
◼ ONLY HUMAN | Alan is human through and through. The number of ways he can be injured or killed are nearly innumerable.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ H.I.T. | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ Slater University and Institute of Technology | Located in Larissa, this school is where Alan currently resides and works.
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ THE 'FIVER' EXO-SUIT | 
Named, perhaps ironically, after Alan's favorite character in 'Watership Down', the Fiver exo-suit is a metal epidermis which protects the wearer from harm and enhances the pilot's physical attributes. The augments are as listed:
- Enhanced Durability- The safety of its pilot its ultimate concern, the power armor contains incredibly thick outer plates which can endure all standard issue pistol, shotgun, assault-rifle, sub-machine gun, and sniper rifle fire. It takes specialized weaponry, ammo, or explosives to actually make a dent in this walking tent.
- Enhanced Strength- The Fiver armor augments the pilot's strength to an impressive degree. It can crash through walls, bend beams of steel, carry cars, stop trucks, leap tall buildings in a few bounds, and break enemy combatants with ease.
- Enhanced Speed- Bearing a set of thrusters to boost its speed in order to compensate for its large size, the Fiver suit is capable of impressive speeds when its power is properly allocated.
- Operational Assistant- An interactive computational program designed by Alan himself, 'Hazel' as he has named it, assists Alan with aiming procedures, data gathering, and numerous other activities required for the suit to operate at peak capacity.
- Communication array- Located in Fiver's 'ears', the exo-suit has full communication ability and a visual display in order to relay available or necessary information.
- Anti-Hyperhuman measures- It's creation funded by H.I.T.'s military and scientific interests, the exo-suit has numerous anti-hype measures incorporated into its chassis ranging from tasers, to tranquilizers, to sonic deterrents in order to non-lethally subdue empowered subjects. If lethality is necessary, the power armor comes equipped with the MK. 7 'Elephant Gun'. A heavily modified sniper rifle so heavy that only someone in the Fiver suit could lift it, this weapon can tear through most modern day armor and vehicles with ease. It also comes equipped with a specially built combat knife for close-quarters-encounters, and a number of explosive ordinances if the target proves especially difficult to restrain.
- Biolock and Bio-metric measures- The only aspect of the Fiver suit that Alan did not design himself, the powered armor is keyed to only power on when Alan's specific bio-signature is recognized. Additionally, should Alan somehow sustain an injury while inside the armor, he can specify the area of injury and the suit will attempt to apply measures to prevent bleed out. This will not fix the issue, simply buy Alan a few more minutes before he has to exit the suit and seek medical aid.
OP
CallSignCorsair If you couldn't tell, I like planes
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Dorand'r
Alias: Solfire
Experience: 40 days
Hometown: Gotham
Age: 16
Powers: Dorand'r is gifted superhero abilities due to his Tamaran Physiology. This also provides him with moderately enhanced strength and durability, but nothing beyond what a contemporary exo-suit might provide.
Energy Absorption - The fuel for his powers, Dorand'r passively absorbs ambient ultraviolet radiation to fuel his superhuman abilities.
Flight - Inherited from his mother's altered physiology, Dorand'r is able to will himself into the air and slip free Eath's surly bonds. This ability is far less effective than those originally altered by the Psion's experiments, like his mother and her famous sister, and as such Dorand'r can by no means achieve the feats of which his relatives were capable. Interstellar flight by his power alone is something that Dorand'r is not able to achieve. Like the rest of his family, an illusory trail of flame follows Dextrand'r as he streaks across the sky.
Starbolts - A less powerful version than the one's classically available to the Tamaran royal family, his starbolts still pack a punch comparable to your contemporary energy weapon. The more ultraviolet light he is exposed to, the more powerful his starbolts become.
Linguistic Absorption - As with all Tamaraneans, Dextrom'r is capable of absorbing other languages throw lip-to-lip contact.
Weaknesses: Light Deprivation - As with all solar based extraterrestrials, deprivation of ultraviolet radiation can have serious side-effects to the alien's abilities and psyche. Beyond a few days without exposure to ultraviolet light, Dextrom'r will begin to de-power and experience what is known on Tamaran as "Deprivation Syndrome". This mental disorder can lead to depression, paranoia, and eventually, severe, life-threatening panic attacks.
Claustrophobia - Dorand'r has a severe fear of enclosed spaces. If cooped up for too long or imprisoned, he will become gripped with fear and begin the initial stages of an anxiety attack.
Reason for joining Robin?: Dextrom'r saw in Robin an opportunity to serve Earth as not just an envoy to Tamaran, but also as a protector of his adoptive people. He understood the boy's passion to prove himself worthy, and hoped the two of them would become as great of teammates as he knew the original Starfire and Robin were.
Appearance: Dorand'r, like many of his people, is considered extremely physically attractive by Earth standards. He stands at six feet tall, and bears with him the athletic build deserving of one trained in Tamaranean combat. His skin carries a light orange hue, complimented by the dark red of his hair and the emerald green of his eyes. He has an angular face; high cheekbones and pointed chin marking him as more effeminate looking than one might expect of a alien warrior.
Dorand'r clothes himself in traditional Tamaranean garb, which is to he doesn't wear much at all. Light, lilac colored gauntlets cling to his forearms and hands, and a similarly colored mantle rests easily on his slender shoulders. Each piece of separate armor is set with a brilliant, deep red ruby in its center to remind the warrior of the home he serves while on earth. Dorand'r stands in dark purple boots, and his lower body is clad in skin tight pants as is traditional of a true-born Tamaranean warrior.
Personality: Dorand'r takes much more after his aunt than he does his mother, a fact that Koriand'r loves and Kommand'r loathes. He is a jubilant, sunny soul who wishes nothing more than to dedicate his life to the service of the people. He approaches problems with a relentlessly optimistic attitude, believing that there is no situation that cannot be overcome through cooperation and sheer force of will. Like his aunt, Dorand'r values freedom and friendship above all other things. He is quick to make to a friend, and quick to forgive the transgressions others have committed against him. Unfortunately, Dorand'r also has his mothers temper and her military cunning. Should one get Dorand'r angry, there is little that would stop him from eking out what he classifies as an "equivalent punishment".
Dorand'r feels most alive in the midst of battle, but can lose himself in the midst of violence. He can be excessively bullheaded, and often leap into the thick of combat before thinking about a proper strategy of engagement. He can also be quick to classify who the "good guys" and "bad guys" are before doing any actual observation of the situation, leading him to oversimplify often very complex conflicts into a fight of good versus bad. He is aware logically that the world in which he operates in often does not comply to simple definitions of "right" and "wrong", and more often than not falls somewhere in the middle. However, being raised off the stories of his aunt's, and occasionally his mother's, heroics and having a deep desire to emulate them, Dorand'r's focus narrows in the heat of conflict into the classical definitions he knows by heart.
Being a sort of bridge between Tamaranean and Earth culture, Dorand'r is much more well adapted to modern day living than his predecessors. He still carries his Tamaranean roots with pride, but knows Earth traditions well enough not to be surprised or mystified by them. As Tamaranean culture is sensuous in nature, Dorand'r can come off as excessively flirty, but he sees flirtation as just a more fun form of talking. He rarely holds any qualms about openly discussing sexuality, and though he understands why humans do, he can't help but find it amusing when Earthers act so scandalized by talking about such matters.
BRIEF Bio: Dorand'r was born to his mother Kommand'r and his father Dor'ion out of wedlock on the planet of Tammaran. Being not of wholly royal line, Dorand'r was forbidden by law to be raised in his mother's court. Had his father attempted to reveal himself and raise the child, the man would have been stripped of his military rank and forced into civilian life. None of proper rank would attempt to raise the infant as their own, and so Kommand'r, desperate as only a mother could be, she smuggled the child to her long estranged sister Koriand'r. Begging like she had never thought she would be capable of, the Queen of Tamaran left the fate of her firstborn child in the hands of the woman she had exiled personally. Thankfully, Koriand'r was of a nobler stock than her sister, and took the child in on the condition that Kommand'r visit once every few years so that the boy might know his real mother. Kommand'r agreed, and so the child brought about a slow reconciliation between the two Tamaranean sisters.
The child grew happy and healthy for most of its life, Koriand'r taking to raising the child joyfully while Kommand'r grew saddened in how different her son seemed to her. He learned of his homeworld's culture, their fighting styles, and of the traditions which bound him to those who came before him. He delighted in visits to the Tamaranean embassy, glad to show off how much he knew of both Earth and Tamaran to the desk clerk and the rare ambassador who filtered through the doors. He was given the best private tutors his birth mother could buy, and soon he grew to master the various social intricacies that weaved themselves in both Tamaran and Earth society. As he grew, he decided that, while the warrior's life called to him, he would dedicate himself to being an envoy between the world that had raised him and the world that had birthed him. Attaching himself to the embassy in Gotham, Dorand'r served as an interplanetary intern when his studies allowed it.
An attack outside the embassy is what galvanized the start of Dorand'r's career as Solfire. A gang of anarchists had wreaked havoc on the district just a few lanes down from the embassy, but none of the Tamaranean warriors broke ranks in order to aid the civilians trapped in the area. The embassy was worried about infringing on the local city's sovereignty and causing a diplomatic incident, so they ordered their soldiers to hold back and let the police do their job. Dorand'r was only worried about the innocents being hurt. Shooting out of the embassy, Dorand'r launched himself into the fray. It proved a hard-fought battle, but with aid from law-enforcement, Dorand'r helped turn the tide against the gang and force them form the district. When asked the name of the young man who aided them, Dorand'r remembered his aunt's own stories about her adventures in her youth. He told them to call him Solfire, in honor of the greatest hero he had ever known.
Notes: None as of posting
Alias: Solfire
Experience: 40 days
Hometown: Gotham
Age: 16
Powers: Dorand'r is gifted superhero abilities due to his Tamaran Physiology. This also provides him with moderately enhanced strength and durability, but nothing beyond what a contemporary exo-suit might provide.
Energy Absorption - The fuel for his powers, Dorand'r passively absorbs ambient ultraviolet radiation to fuel his superhuman abilities.
Flight - Inherited from his mother's altered physiology, Dorand'r is able to will himself into the air and slip free Eath's surly bonds. This ability is far less effective than those originally altered by the Psion's experiments, like his mother and her famous sister, and as such Dorand'r can by no means achieve the feats of which his relatives were capable. Interstellar flight by his power alone is something that Dorand'r is not able to achieve. Like the rest of his family, an illusory trail of flame follows Dextrand'r as he streaks across the sky.
Starbolts - A less powerful version than the one's classically available to the Tamaran royal family, his starbolts still pack a punch comparable to your contemporary energy weapon. The more ultraviolet light he is exposed to, the more powerful his starbolts become.
Linguistic Absorption - As with all Tamaraneans, Dextrom'r is capable of absorbing other languages throw lip-to-lip contact.
Weaknesses: Light Deprivation - As with all solar based extraterrestrials, deprivation of ultraviolet radiation can have serious side-effects to the alien's abilities and psyche. Beyond a few days without exposure to ultraviolet light, Dextrom'r will begin to de-power and experience what is known on Tamaran as "Deprivation Syndrome". This mental disorder can lead to depression, paranoia, and eventually, severe, life-threatening panic attacks.
Claustrophobia - Dorand'r has a severe fear of enclosed spaces. If cooped up for too long or imprisoned, he will become gripped with fear and begin the initial stages of an anxiety attack.
Reason for joining Robin?: Dextrom'r saw in Robin an opportunity to serve Earth as not just an envoy to Tamaran, but also as a protector of his adoptive people. He understood the boy's passion to prove himself worthy, and hoped the two of them would become as great of teammates as he knew the original Starfire and Robin were.
Appearance: Dorand'r, like many of his people, is considered extremely physically attractive by Earth standards. He stands at six feet tall, and bears with him the athletic build deserving of one trained in Tamaranean combat. His skin carries a light orange hue, complimented by the dark red of his hair and the emerald green of his eyes. He has an angular face; high cheekbones and pointed chin marking him as more effeminate looking than one might expect of a alien warrior.
Dorand'r clothes himself in traditional Tamaranean garb, which is to he doesn't wear much at all. Light, lilac colored gauntlets cling to his forearms and hands, and a similarly colored mantle rests easily on his slender shoulders. Each piece of separate armor is set with a brilliant, deep red ruby in its center to remind the warrior of the home he serves while on earth. Dorand'r stands in dark purple boots, and his lower body is clad in skin tight pants as is traditional of a true-born Tamaranean warrior.
Personality: Dorand'r takes much more after his aunt than he does his mother, a fact that Koriand'r loves and Kommand'r loathes. He is a jubilant, sunny soul who wishes nothing more than to dedicate his life to the service of the people. He approaches problems with a relentlessly optimistic attitude, believing that there is no situation that cannot be overcome through cooperation and sheer force of will. Like his aunt, Dorand'r values freedom and friendship above all other things. He is quick to make to a friend, and quick to forgive the transgressions others have committed against him. Unfortunately, Dorand'r also has his mothers temper and her military cunning. Should one get Dorand'r angry, there is little that would stop him from eking out what he classifies as an "equivalent punishment".
Dorand'r feels most alive in the midst of battle, but can lose himself in the midst of violence. He can be excessively bullheaded, and often leap into the thick of combat before thinking about a proper strategy of engagement. He can also be quick to classify who the "good guys" and "bad guys" are before doing any actual observation of the situation, leading him to oversimplify often very complex conflicts into a fight of good versus bad. He is aware logically that the world in which he operates in often does not comply to simple definitions of "right" and "wrong", and more often than not falls somewhere in the middle. However, being raised off the stories of his aunt's, and occasionally his mother's, heroics and having a deep desire to emulate them, Dorand'r's focus narrows in the heat of conflict into the classical definitions he knows by heart.
Being a sort of bridge between Tamaranean and Earth culture, Dorand'r is much more well adapted to modern day living than his predecessors. He still carries his Tamaranean roots with pride, but knows Earth traditions well enough not to be surprised or mystified by them. As Tamaranean culture is sensuous in nature, Dorand'r can come off as excessively flirty, but he sees flirtation as just a more fun form of talking. He rarely holds any qualms about openly discussing sexuality, and though he understands why humans do, he can't help but find it amusing when Earthers act so scandalized by talking about such matters.
BRIEF Bio: Dorand'r was born to his mother Kommand'r and his father Dor'ion out of wedlock on the planet of Tammaran. Being not of wholly royal line, Dorand'r was forbidden by law to be raised in his mother's court. Had his father attempted to reveal himself and raise the child, the man would have been stripped of his military rank and forced into civilian life. None of proper rank would attempt to raise the infant as their own, and so Kommand'r, desperate as only a mother could be, she smuggled the child to her long estranged sister Koriand'r. Begging like she had never thought she would be capable of, the Queen of Tamaran left the fate of her firstborn child in the hands of the woman she had exiled personally. Thankfully, Koriand'r was of a nobler stock than her sister, and took the child in on the condition that Kommand'r visit once every few years so that the boy might know his real mother. Kommand'r agreed, and so the child brought about a slow reconciliation between the two Tamaranean sisters.
The child grew happy and healthy for most of its life, Koriand'r taking to raising the child joyfully while Kommand'r grew saddened in how different her son seemed to her. He learned of his homeworld's culture, their fighting styles, and of the traditions which bound him to those who came before him. He delighted in visits to the Tamaranean embassy, glad to show off how much he knew of both Earth and Tamaran to the desk clerk and the rare ambassador who filtered through the doors. He was given the best private tutors his birth mother could buy, and soon he grew to master the various social intricacies that weaved themselves in both Tamaran and Earth society. As he grew, he decided that, while the warrior's life called to him, he would dedicate himself to being an envoy between the world that had raised him and the world that had birthed him. Attaching himself to the embassy in Gotham, Dorand'r served as an interplanetary intern when his studies allowed it.
An attack outside the embassy is what galvanized the start of Dorand'r's career as Solfire. A gang of anarchists had wreaked havoc on the district just a few lanes down from the embassy, but none of the Tamaranean warriors broke ranks in order to aid the civilians trapped in the area. The embassy was worried about infringing on the local city's sovereignty and causing a diplomatic incident, so they ordered their soldiers to hold back and let the police do their job. Dorand'r was only worried about the innocents being hurt. Shooting out of the embassy, Dorand'r launched himself into the fray. It proved a hard-fought battle, but with aid from law-enforcement, Dorand'r helped turn the tide against the gang and force them form the district. When asked the name of the young man who aided them, Dorand'r remembered his aunt's own stories about her adventures in her youth. He told them to call him Solfire, in honor of the greatest hero he had ever known.
Notes: None as of posting
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