@Lugubrious
Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy Margrave updates?
Maybe, but either way, I'm glad I could make it enjoyable!
[OOC] Capes of Denver: A Worm RP Page 39
- Large Group
- Superhero
- Fandom
- Modern
- Fantasy
- Casual
- Sci-Fi
- GM ProPro Co-GM Eklispe Co-GM Old Amsterdam
Join Status:
Apply
Lugubrious Player on the other side
Member
Seen
2 hrs ago
Maybe, but either way, I'm glad I could make it enjoyable!
coGM
Old Amsterdam Coven Witch
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
@Spiffy@yoshua171@AngelofOctober@Gardevoiran@TheRedWatcher@Keksalot
Hai! GM call out here. It's been 21 days since the last update, by myself, in that entire situation. The MM are a main team, which does make this a "main encounter", and we've given it a little extra given the fact Pro and I were switching back off on who got to update them.
If y'all could begin progression again, it would be appreciated. Kthnxbai <3
Hai! GM call out here. It's been 21 days since the last update, by myself, in that entire situation. The MM are a main team, which does make this a "main encounter", and we've given it a little extra given the fact Pro and I were switching back off on who got to update them.
If y'all could begin progression again, it would be appreciated. Kthnxbai <3
Gardevoiran The Forbidden One
Member
Seen
7 mos ago
@Old Amsterdam
I do believe we are waiting on Bomberman in this event. I would post but it wouldn't make sense in the world.
I do believe we are waiting on Bomberman in this event. I would post but it wouldn't make sense in the world.
GM
ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
Member
Seen
21 days ago
@Keksalot After some investigation and communication with everyone involved in the Minutemen/explosion event going on right now, it's been determined that at this point everyone is currently waiting on you to post with Master Blaster. Please note that everyone has been waiting for multiple weeks at this point. As you have been active in the Discord chat, I can only assume that you have had time to post. Ergo, you have just under 3 days (until Monday midday) to get that situation moving, or this, coupled with your various Discord strikes, means you are permanently kicked from the game.
GM
ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
Member
Seen
21 days ago
Welp, the time has come and gone. @keksalot, due to failure to post on time after being given a deadline, holding up other players for weeks at a time, constantly needing reprimanding in the Discord chat, and inconsolable creative differences, you are hearby removed from Capes of Denver effective immediately, and blacklisted from every RP of mine from here on out.
thewizardguy Dumbgeon Master
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
After having read through the entirety of Worm last week, I was delighted to find a roleplay on the subject. Made myself a character below, hope he's okay.
![]()
Name: Dane Mikael
Alias: Ironclad
Age: 24
Alignment: Anti-Hero
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: <><><><><><><><><>
History:
Denver's never been the nicest of places, especially for the poor. Not that there are many nice places when you're poor. Growing up in a broken home in a broken neighborhood, surrounded by broken people, Dane was introduced to the real world at a very young age. His life has always been one of hard choices and desperation, and he's seen firsthand what happens to people at the bottom of the barrel. Judgement and abandonment were core aspects of his upbringing, the first from the world and the second from his family. Crime in the area didn't help, and when the Community took over things got that much harder.
In a rather unpleasant life, one moment still did it's best to stand out as particularly horrible. A gunman broke into Dane's house, wounding his sister and making off with what little his family had managed to save up. No powers were involved, and no superhero flew to the rescue. Enraged Dane tried to chase down the gunman himself, managing to track down and corner the robber in a brief chase. Attacking the man was probably a bad idea, and he received a bullet for his trouble. When the police arrived to arrest the gunman they found Dane holding him down, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the side. Luck had protected him, but in his anger he went too far and attacked the cops when they tried to restrain him. The confrontation ended with him beaten senseless and tazed, left on the ground as the police took the gunman into custody. Bleeding, battered, bruised and humiliated, Dane triggered.
With no faith in the system and a need for money, Dane became 'Switchblade', an enforcer for the Community. His height and build made him imposing enough to scare most people into submission, and his powers let him win any fights that did break out. But he never outgrew his hotheadedness, which got him into trouble more than once. When he sent one of his superiors to the hospital the Community decided he was too much of a risk to keep around. They called him into an office, and shot him in the back. The body was dumped in some alley. It was only an unknown quirk of Dane's power that allowed him to survive the shot, and the kindness of a stranger that saved his life. After a week he woke up, after another week he could move again.
Unfortunately, the world did not wait for him. His sister slipped into a catatonic state, and there was no certainty of recovery. His family believed him to be dead, and it might be better for them to keep believing that. If the Community found out he was alive it wouldn't end well. Left purposeless and alone, he relied on his only remaining friend. Alicia Mourn, the woman who had saved him. He told her all he knew, and she forgave him. Told him to use his powers to make a difference. To Dane, that meant fighting the Community. So he discarded his old name, and emerged as a vigilante by the name of 'Ironclad'. Someone who would fight the Community's thugs in the streets, employing a level of violence that more traditional heroes might not be comfortable with.
Motivations: Dane seeks many things. Vengeance. Justice. Redemption. A release for his anger. Most of all, perhaps, a purpose.
Sexuality: Gay
Likes:
Dislikes:
Derangement: While far from a paragon of calmness before his trigger event, Dane's power seems to have fixated on the state of anger that consumed him in that moment. This has driven him to be impulsive, easy to anger, and explosive when angered. He has a hard time containing his own rage sometimes, even when he has the best of intentions.
Skills:
Brawling - while having never received any official training, Dane knows how to use his size and strength to their fullest.
Intimidation - Dane learned some tricks from his time as a criminal enforcer, enhancing his naturally imposing stature.
Crime - breaking and entering, picking locks, avoiding cops, and other useful tricks.
Classification: Brute/Breaker (little bit of Shifter, according to some)
Details:
Dane is able to absorb any small nonliving object he touches. Small, in this case, means anything with a volume lower than that of his head. Smaller objects are more quickly absorbed than large ones. After absorbing an object Dane is capable of projecting it from his body, having it emerge from his flesh at any point. As 'switchblade' he turned his fingers to knife-claws, or formed brass knuckles on his fists. As 'Ironclad' he uses it to cover his body in a layer of 'scales', consisting of anything from bullets to biking gear and metal chains. He can make various weapons emerge from his body in combat, ranging from metal tubes to knife blades. Objects emerging from his skin can be manipulated as if he were holding them, allowing Dane to do things like rapidly pushing a metal tube outwards to add to the impact of a punch.
A quirk of Dane's power is that objects that are pushed into him are absorbed more quickly. This allowed him to absorb the bullet before it inflicted lethal damage, although he was still mortally wounded. Unfortunately it doesn't have many applications, as this pretty much only works on small physical projectiles. It saved him once, however, and it might save him again.
Limitations:
Nonliving objects can't be absorbed, and large objects take up to a minute to fully absorb. Despite his abilities Ironclad doesn't have any actual enhanced toughness or strength, only his own natural bulk. Lastly electrical systems seem to short out when absorbed, which prevents him from having things like flashlights stored inside his body.
Equipment:
Most of his gear is stored inside of him. He can easily conjure lockpicks, weapons, guns or medical supplies from his body.
Ironclad
Name: Dane Mikael
Alias: Ironclad
Age: 24
Alignment: Anti-Hero
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: <><><><><><><><><>
History:
Denver's never been the nicest of places, especially for the poor. Not that there are many nice places when you're poor. Growing up in a broken home in a broken neighborhood, surrounded by broken people, Dane was introduced to the real world at a very young age. His life has always been one of hard choices and desperation, and he's seen firsthand what happens to people at the bottom of the barrel. Judgement and abandonment were core aspects of his upbringing, the first from the world and the second from his family. Crime in the area didn't help, and when the Community took over things got that much harder.
In a rather unpleasant life, one moment still did it's best to stand out as particularly horrible. A gunman broke into Dane's house, wounding his sister and making off with what little his family had managed to save up. No powers were involved, and no superhero flew to the rescue. Enraged Dane tried to chase down the gunman himself, managing to track down and corner the robber in a brief chase. Attacking the man was probably a bad idea, and he received a bullet for his trouble. When the police arrived to arrest the gunman they found Dane holding him down, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the side. Luck had protected him, but in his anger he went too far and attacked the cops when they tried to restrain him. The confrontation ended with him beaten senseless and tazed, left on the ground as the police took the gunman into custody. Bleeding, battered, bruised and humiliated, Dane triggered.
With no faith in the system and a need for money, Dane became 'Switchblade', an enforcer for the Community. His height and build made him imposing enough to scare most people into submission, and his powers let him win any fights that did break out. But he never outgrew his hotheadedness, which got him into trouble more than once. When he sent one of his superiors to the hospital the Community decided he was too much of a risk to keep around. They called him into an office, and shot him in the back. The body was dumped in some alley. It was only an unknown quirk of Dane's power that allowed him to survive the shot, and the kindness of a stranger that saved his life. After a week he woke up, after another week he could move again.
Unfortunately, the world did not wait for him. His sister slipped into a catatonic state, and there was no certainty of recovery. His family believed him to be dead, and it might be better for them to keep believing that. If the Community found out he was alive it wouldn't end well. Left purposeless and alone, he relied on his only remaining friend. Alicia Mourn, the woman who had saved him. He told her all he knew, and she forgave him. Told him to use his powers to make a difference. To Dane, that meant fighting the Community. So he discarded his old name, and emerged as a vigilante by the name of 'Ironclad'. Someone who would fight the Community's thugs in the streets, employing a level of violence that more traditional heroes might not be comfortable with.
Personality
Motivations: Dane seeks many things. Vengeance. Justice. Redemption. A release for his anger. Most of all, perhaps, a purpose.
Sexuality: Gay
Likes:
- Fast Food
- Bad Movies
- Working Out
Dislikes:
- Government Supers
- The Community
- Beating Around the Bush
Derangement: While far from a paragon of calmness before his trigger event, Dane's power seems to have fixated on the state of anger that consumed him in that moment. This has driven him to be impulsive, easy to anger, and explosive when angered. He has a hard time containing his own rage sometimes, even when he has the best of intentions.
Parahumanism
Skills:
Brawling - while having never received any official training, Dane knows how to use his size and strength to their fullest.
Intimidation - Dane learned some tricks from his time as a criminal enforcer, enhancing his naturally imposing stature.
Crime - breaking and entering, picking locks, avoiding cops, and other useful tricks.
Classification: Brute/Breaker (little bit of Shifter, according to some)
Details:
Dane is able to absorb any small nonliving object he touches. Small, in this case, means anything with a volume lower than that of his head. Smaller objects are more quickly absorbed than large ones. After absorbing an object Dane is capable of projecting it from his body, having it emerge from his flesh at any point. As 'switchblade' he turned his fingers to knife-claws, or formed brass knuckles on his fists. As 'Ironclad' he uses it to cover his body in a layer of 'scales', consisting of anything from bullets to biking gear and metal chains. He can make various weapons emerge from his body in combat, ranging from metal tubes to knife blades. Objects emerging from his skin can be manipulated as if he were holding them, allowing Dane to do things like rapidly pushing a metal tube outwards to add to the impact of a punch.
A quirk of Dane's power is that objects that are pushed into him are absorbed more quickly. This allowed him to absorb the bullet before it inflicted lethal damage, although he was still mortally wounded. Unfortunately it doesn't have many applications, as this pretty much only works on small physical projectiles. It saved him once, however, and it might save him again.
Limitations:
Nonliving objects can't be absorbed, and large objects take up to a minute to fully absorb. Despite his abilities Ironclad doesn't have any actual enhanced toughness or strength, only his own natural bulk. Lastly electrical systems seem to short out when absorbed, which prevents him from having things like flashlights stored inside his body.
Equipment:
Most of his gear is stored inside of him. He can easily conjure lockpicks, weapons, guns or medical supplies from his body.
GM
ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
Member
Seen
21 days ago
@thewizardguy Firstly I want to thank you for your interest in my game. I'm always happy to have new players join the fold. :) That said, there are a number of issues that need to be addressed on this character before it's ready to be approved.
First is the appearance section, which is, well, completely missing. I'm not sure why there is no appearance but it is absolutely mandatory. I was considering not even reading the rest of the CS until you finished it, that's how much emphasis I place on being able to properly describe how your character looks.
Second is your history, in particular the affiliation with the Community. It's clear you haven't read through the IC (not that I expect you to, considering its length) but Patriarch's power has been discovered in character (though it hasn't spread to public knowledge just yet). Suffice it to say that if he were part of the Community at any point that's it for him. He's in for good because he no longer has a choice in the matter.
Last but definitely least, since it appears to be grammar and minor classification discrepancy, is his power. He has no breaker state. A "breaker" is a change in his physical state that he "switches" on and off that completely breaks how his body reacts to physics. Absorbing and integrating matter to his cells doesn't exactly fit that description because it's well within scientific understanding to integrate foreign material into cells. If he physically transformed into the material he absorbed then that's a whole other story (how can a person be made of iron and function as a living person? Etc.). However since he has to touch something to absorb it, that does classify him as a striker. And finally you will want to proofread what you have written. There's a line that says "nonliving objects cannot be absorbed," which would mean he only absorbs the living, but that feels to be a typo.
Fix these problems and I'll look him over again. I know the history will need a pretty major overhaul because of that one crucial detail.
First is the appearance section, which is, well, completely missing. I'm not sure why there is no appearance but it is absolutely mandatory. I was considering not even reading the rest of the CS until you finished it, that's how much emphasis I place on being able to properly describe how your character looks.
Second is your history, in particular the affiliation with the Community. It's clear you haven't read through the IC (not that I expect you to, considering its length) but Patriarch's power has been discovered in character (though it hasn't spread to public knowledge just yet). Suffice it to say that if he were part of the Community at any point that's it for him. He's in for good because he no longer has a choice in the matter.
Last but definitely least, since it appears to be grammar and minor classification discrepancy, is his power. He has no breaker state. A "breaker" is a change in his physical state that he "switches" on and off that completely breaks how his body reacts to physics. Absorbing and integrating matter to his cells doesn't exactly fit that description because it's well within scientific understanding to integrate foreign material into cells. If he physically transformed into the material he absorbed then that's a whole other story (how can a person be made of iron and function as a living person? Etc.). However since he has to touch something to absorb it, that does classify him as a striker. And finally you will want to proofread what you have written. There's a line that says "nonliving objects cannot be absorbed," which would mean he only absorbs the living, but that feels to be a typo.
Fix these problems and I'll look him over again. I know the history will need a pretty major overhaul because of that one crucial detail.
thewizardguy Dumbgeon Master
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@ProPro
I was certain that I'd put stuff in the appearance section before I posted. Not sure how I managed to overlook that. Oh well.
I'll try and rework his history, knowing that. Might take a day or so, cuz I'll have to rethink the character a bit.
I considered it a 'breaker' power because it's more similar to spatial warping than producing a material. But I suppose you're correct, I'll update that while I'm at it.
That is indeed a type, I meant that it can't absorb living things. Prevent him from becoming made of hamsters or something.
I was certain that I'd put stuff in the appearance section before I posted. Not sure how I managed to overlook that. Oh well.
I'll try and rework his history, knowing that. Might take a day or so, cuz I'll have to rethink the character a bit.
I considered it a 'breaker' power because it's more similar to spatial warping than producing a material. But I suppose you're correct, I'll update that while I'm at it.
That is indeed a type, I meant that it can't absorb living things. Prevent him from becoming made of hamsters or something.
PlatinumSkink
Member
Seen
6 days ago
... Whelp. If Sheila ever ends up needing to distract Margrave for some reason, remind me to not have her taunt him. That attack came out of nowhere and caught me wide-eyed. Hah.
AngelofOctober Backup Data's Ghost
Member
Seen
1 mo ago
So, like it always happens. No none informs that the net bill isn't paid. I am supposedly expected to have it back sometime this week, but felt like informing everybody. So they don't think I went dark on purpose.
coGM
Old Amsterdam Coven Witch
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
@Gardevoiran@yoshua171
Le official poke in regards to "React to BoomBooms!"
Aka, Pro would like updates for the MM to occur sooner than later at this stage.
I believe that means we also need to see movement from @TheRedWatcher and (maybe?) @AngelofOctober with them either retreating with Swarm or what have you.
Le official poke in regards to "React to BoomBooms!"
Aka, Pro would like updates for the MM to occur sooner than later at this stage.
I believe that means we also need to see movement from @TheRedWatcher and (maybe?) @AngelofOctober with them either retreating with Swarm or what have you.
Miakoda The Scientific Thinker
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
I'm still new to this, so I'll just post my character here...
Name: Floris Van Veldhoven
Occupation: Author/Mercenary
Alias: Dianthus
Age: 22
Alignment: (Good-ish) Anti-hero
Loyalty: Independant
Appearance: Floris is a young man, approximately 1.9 meters (6 feet 2 inches) tall. His face is rather smooth, with a single scar on his medium sized nose, in the form of a small white line. His skin is paler than most, bordering the shade of your stereotypical Irishman, which greatly contrasts his dark hair, which sits loosely on top of his head, reaching no further than the nape of his neck. His green eyes usually stare coldly at the world around him, though their intent is covered up by the coy smile he usually wears on his thin lips. He doesn't bother too much with clothing, making little to no effort to make sure his clothes match perfectly (though they usually do to some extent). His preferences lean towards a collared vest and khakis, with either sneakers or boots to finish the job. He can also usually be seen with large headphones over his head.
His costume is exceedingly simple, consisting out of nothing more than a brown shirt, jeans, and boots. According to a passersby, this is because those are easy to replace whenever they get torn. The only notable thing about it is the half mask he wears, which is made from various leaves and vines, and reaches from his nose to the top of his head, and extends slightly outwards. The rest of his disguise comes from his abilities. His eyes change colour to purple. His hair begins to flake, before turning into large, red leaves that sit around his head like a crown and go down to his hips.
History: Born and raised in a bustling city The Netherlands, Floris Van Veldhoven was never the talkative type. His father worked in the military as a fighter pilot, and was often away on training missions. Meanwhile, his mother worked as a botany professor and scientist at the local university, and was often busy discussing findings with colleagues or helping students with assignments. This left Floris with an excess of time to himself, which he spent in various ways. Sometimes he would spend his time listening to music, whilst on other occasions he would read through his mother's reports for the heck of it. Sometimes he would go to one of his friends to play video games, whilst on other occasions he would go to the university his mother taught at to run laps.
One day, when he was 16, his father was offered a position at an airbase located in Colorado, Floris had to say goodbye to the life he knew. His friends, family, academic dreams, all were left behind as they moved to their new life in Denver, Colorado. There, he attended a local high. Instantly thrown off by the different educational system, Floris found it difficult to adjust. Due to his long history with the Dutch educational systems, Floris was already miles ahead of his peers, easily surpassing his classmates in terms of grades, and even his teachers in terms of general knowledge. This humongous gap in level had two effects on Floris. It firstly served to make him an excellent subject to approach for tutorage. Secondly, it marked him as an outsider to his classmates. Together, they caused a situation in which the only reason for someone to approach Floris was to ask for help with classwork. While this did lead to some friends, their relationship was far from what you'd call natural.
To take his mind off of his weird situation, Floris decided it was time to pursue a genuine hobby. After hours of searching for a fitting pastime, he finally settled on writing. He could use his pen to escape to worlds of his own creation, and even earn a good buck if he did it right. Using his father's expertise in military operations, his mother's extensive knowledge of plants, and his own experiences with video games, Floris quickly began work on his first book. Titled "Serenity's Wake", it was a survival thriller set in a steampunk era. In it, the main character Flynt Eyre crashes his airship in the woods of Dianthus. He then has to use the onboard technology, and his own expertise in mechanics to make his way out of the woods.
When Floris finally finished his book just after graduating high school, he submitted the piece to a publisher. After a few weeks, he received a letter from the publisher, telling him that his book had pleasantly surprised them, and that they had sent it to an editor to fix any grammatical mistakes there may have been. Delighted by their son's success, both in school and in writing, his parents planned a trip to visit Yosemite park, a setting that closely resembled the one from his book.
Once they arrived at Yosemite, Floris couldn't believe his eyes; the national park looked almost exactly like how he had imagined the woods of Dianthus. Large mountain ranges enclosed a lush forest. Waterfalls and rivers decorated what wasn't wood or stone. The sight almost brought tears to his eyes. Once they arrived in their hotel room, he and his parents instantly began planning their activities. First on the list was, of course, a hiking trip through the park. They hired a jeep the very next day, which would take them to the other side of the park. There, they would follow one of the most scenic hiking trails.
The next day, Floris and his family signed out of the hotel and began their journey towards the other end of Yosemite. Even this journey was already mesmerizing. The high altitude of the road provided an excellent view of the park and all its beauty. Towards the end of the day, they arrived at their destination: a small cabin at the edge of the park.
The next day the family took off on their hiking adventure, geared up and ready to rumble. Their trail was a difficult one, but a rewarding one. Steep and narrow paths and constant declines and inclines would lead them to some of the most beautiful views the park had to offer. However, as stories go, this did not end well. Without announcement, the skies above began to change. Sunny weather made way for clouds. Wind started to pick up heftily. Rain came down in liters on end. Floris tried his best to fight against it, but in the end it became too much. He, and his family, were flung off the side of the trail. The downhill slope was merciless and didn't show any sign of stopping. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of pain, the rolling ended as Floris tumbled into the river below. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die! Were the last things that crossed his mind before everything faded to black.
After god knows how much time had passed, Floris finally came to. He was lying on the edge of a riverbank, his feet still dangling in the water. With great effort, he pulled himself up out of the semi-warm water. Realizing the situation he was in, he began to wildly study his surroundings. "Mom?!" He yelled with all his might, the forests giving no answer. "Dad?!" No answer. The storm had faded, and the sun was shining through the trees, illuminating everything in a dim green light. It wasn't long before the complete silence got to him; he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He was vulnerable, he was alone. He was scared. His parents were probably dead, and he was in a position that was arguably no better. Hesitantly, Floris looked down at himself, and was surprised to find that he still had his backpack, and everything in it, though it was completely soaked. Nature isn't as cruel as it seems. He thought to himself.
For the next few days, Floris survived on his own, stranded within the depths of Yosemite National Park, with no means to contact the outside world. Combining his mother's knowledge of botany with what his father had taught him of survival, Floris managed to hold his own, finding ample food and water, all whilst searching for a way back to civilization. However, his lack of socialization, and the constant fear of death quickly began to wear at him. He would hear sounds in complete silence, he would see things that weren't there. Quickly, the days began to be filled with constant paranoia. Floris started to loose sleep, only worsening his condition.
Things reached their climax nine days after the storm. Floris had not slept for over 48 hours. His body was aching, eyes were dry, but his mind was racing. Constant noises made it clear to him that something was following him. Something he could not see. Something that could see him. It's as if the entire forest was alive, trying to hunt him. But it was closer now. It was there, ready to pounce him. He began to run. But how could he? The forest was around him. He was a part of it, and he couldn't escape. Suddenly, his foot got stuck! With an audible screech and a thud, Floris collided with the ground. There it was! The forest was trying to get him killed! Wasting no time, Floris stood up again and began to run. It was getting closer, and no matter how hard Floris ran, no matter how many turns he took, he couldn't escape. "I'm not built for this! I'm not built for this! I'm just a human, how can I do this?!" He yelled in frustration as he kept running. Then, it jumped! Floris was done for, he was a dead man! The beast had made his move and there was no way he could escape! In a final ditch attempt, Floris turned himself around and extended his arm, hoping to throw the beast off. But it was all for naught. He felt the cold fangs of the beast bite down upon his arm. I'm done for... was the last thing Floris thought before he hit the ground. Wait... Hit the...ground? The cold feeling still surrounded his arm, and it certainly didn't feel natural. But he still felt it, which means he either wasn't dead, or he was and he was still feeling it. He slowly opened his eyes; nothing. Just trees, leaves. He then turned his gaze to his arm.
His face turned pale.
"AAAAAAARGH!"
His arm was gone. In its place, a wooden replica. But it didn't feel that way. Slowly, he tried to flex his fingers. Sure enough, with little resistance, the wood bent with it.
"What the fuck?" Floris said breathily, staring bewildered at his wooden arm. Nothing about it made sense. Why was it wood?! Why did it still move?! "What...the fuck?"
But it wasn't just the arm. Everything seemed different. The forest itself felt more alive than it had ever felt before...but it was friendly... It felt like it was a part of him. Whenever he breathed, the forest breathed. Whenever his heart beat, he could feel the forest beat with it. "What the hell is going on?" Floris said breathily. Standing up, he suddenly felt a strange tingling in his arm. Looking to the source, he saw that it had turned back into his old arm. As he extended his arm to take a better look at it however, he saw something even more perplexing: the plants in front of him moved along with him. Wait, am I doing that?
Suddenly, a set of voices caught his attention! They didn't sound far. Ignoring everything else, Floris immediately took off. For a good twenty minutes, he kept running uninterrupted. Then, finally! A road! A car! There were people! But...why were they so far? Their voices sounded so close earlier. Did...did the forest show me the way?
Floris returned to his residence in Denver, and went into hiding. He needed time to think. Time to reflect on everything that had happened. His parents had been confirmed dead; blunt trauma to multiple areas in the body. His mother was dead instantly, while his father had bled to death.
Floris would use his garden to practice his abilities in secret; no-one could know how he alone survived. Over time, he became incredibly efficient at using them, but he always kept them hidden. He could turn his hair into leaves for photosynthesis, his eyes could change colour.
For four years he remained like this. Cooped up in his house, writing, practicing. Over time, he grew to hate people; their continuous talking disturbed his thinking, their joy reminded him of how his parents were completely forgotten, their constant littering showed how they didn't care for the beast that was nature. The plants weren't like that, they were nice.
That all ended one day, when he sensed something new. Whilst in his garden, he began to meditate on his survival when something dawned upon him. The forest had chosen him. He had become its champion. He could have died, but the forest didn't let him. And now he was here. From that moment on he knew what he had to do: he had been chosen to enforce the rules of nature. The forest wanted balanced, and he was the one to bring it.
The time had come to take to the streets, and enact the rules of nature.
Motivation: "The forest is a place where life and death balance each other out in a fair and equal manner. I will see to it that that happens here as well."
Sexuality: Straight (though he doesn't mind transgendered women)
Likes:
Dislikes:
Derangement: His new abilities have given him a distinct disliking of humanity, almost to the point where he prefers the company of plants over that of other humans. Because of this, he isn't one to show sympathy easily, leading some to call him a sociopath (a claim he rarely denies).
Skills: Floris has no superhuman strength, that's a given. However, he is exceedingly clever and quick-thinking. On top of that, his frequent running exercises have given him a stamina on par to those of near-professional athletes.
Thanks to his parents, Floris is quite knowledgable in the fields of self-defense and botany. He knows his way around a fist-fight, as well as a diverse range of plants.
Classification: Shaker/Thinker + Shifter
Details: Floris is able to turn his arms into a hardened version of Giant Sequoia wood, which has a denser composition than bone. He can then shift this wood into any shape that he wants, whether it's a key, a blade, it doesn't matter. As for his photosynthesis, the extra energy allows him to partially negate human exhaustion, thus giving him a slightly improved stamina, though it's not much.
Due to the nature of his powers (pun totally intended), he is able to mentally connect with all plant life, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. He can then use those roots to jump his mind from plant to plant, giving him incredible awareness and tracking abilities. In essence, this ability allows Floris to partially project his awareness in the being of plants, thus allowing him to hear, feel and smell everything, as if the plant he's possessing had those senses. Further, any plants that come into contact with this become subject to his ability to bend plants.
The big one of his abilities is his ability to bend and grow plants to his will. In the years since the incident he has mastered his abilities, allowing him to spur rapid, unnatural growth in any plant life. Furthermore, any plant that he can reach through his "root network" is subject to this ability.
Limitations: Constantly bending and growing plants will quickly wear Floris down as it requires an incredible amount of energy. Further, though Floris can make plants as big as he wants, the bigger they get, the harder the mental strain they enact upon him. Therefore, he prefers to stick to smaller scale use of his powers. Furthermore, Floris' ability to mentally connect with plant matter is grows more and more straining the further away the plant his mind travels to is. Floris himself estimates that the furthest he can go is roughly two kilometers.
Unlike the rest of the plants, Floris is unable to grow his arms when they've been turned into wood. This means that that ability is limited by equivalent exchange.
His photosynthesis only works if he has his flower hair out. Even then, it's a fairly weak source of energy and it won't supplement for long.
Equipment: Floris uses no special equipment.
Dianthus
Chibi Artwork by Seoxys6
Name: Floris Van Veldhoven
Occupation: Author/Mercenary
Alias: Dianthus
Age: 22
Alignment: (Good-ish) Anti-hero
Loyalty: Independant
Appearance: Floris is a young man, approximately 1.9 meters (6 feet 2 inches) tall. His face is rather smooth, with a single scar on his medium sized nose, in the form of a small white line. His skin is paler than most, bordering the shade of your stereotypical Irishman, which greatly contrasts his dark hair, which sits loosely on top of his head, reaching no further than the nape of his neck. His green eyes usually stare coldly at the world around him, though their intent is covered up by the coy smile he usually wears on his thin lips. He doesn't bother too much with clothing, making little to no effort to make sure his clothes match perfectly (though they usually do to some extent). His preferences lean towards a collared vest and khakis, with either sneakers or boots to finish the job. He can also usually be seen with large headphones over his head.
His costume is exceedingly simple, consisting out of nothing more than a brown shirt, jeans, and boots. According to a passersby, this is because those are easy to replace whenever they get torn. The only notable thing about it is the half mask he wears, which is made from various leaves and vines, and reaches from his nose to the top of his head, and extends slightly outwards. The rest of his disguise comes from his abilities. His eyes change colour to purple. His hair begins to flake, before turning into large, red leaves that sit around his head like a crown and go down to his hips.
History: Born and raised in a bustling city The Netherlands, Floris Van Veldhoven was never the talkative type. His father worked in the military as a fighter pilot, and was often away on training missions. Meanwhile, his mother worked as a botany professor and scientist at the local university, and was often busy discussing findings with colleagues or helping students with assignments. This left Floris with an excess of time to himself, which he spent in various ways. Sometimes he would spend his time listening to music, whilst on other occasions he would read through his mother's reports for the heck of it. Sometimes he would go to one of his friends to play video games, whilst on other occasions he would go to the university his mother taught at to run laps.
One day, when he was 16, his father was offered a position at an airbase located in Colorado, Floris had to say goodbye to the life he knew. His friends, family, academic dreams, all were left behind as they moved to their new life in Denver, Colorado. There, he attended a local high. Instantly thrown off by the different educational system, Floris found it difficult to adjust. Due to his long history with the Dutch educational systems, Floris was already miles ahead of his peers, easily surpassing his classmates in terms of grades, and even his teachers in terms of general knowledge. This humongous gap in level had two effects on Floris. It firstly served to make him an excellent subject to approach for tutorage. Secondly, it marked him as an outsider to his classmates. Together, they caused a situation in which the only reason for someone to approach Floris was to ask for help with classwork. While this did lead to some friends, their relationship was far from what you'd call natural.
To take his mind off of his weird situation, Floris decided it was time to pursue a genuine hobby. After hours of searching for a fitting pastime, he finally settled on writing. He could use his pen to escape to worlds of his own creation, and even earn a good buck if he did it right. Using his father's expertise in military operations, his mother's extensive knowledge of plants, and his own experiences with video games, Floris quickly began work on his first book. Titled "Serenity's Wake", it was a survival thriller set in a steampunk era. In it, the main character Flynt Eyre crashes his airship in the woods of Dianthus. He then has to use the onboard technology, and his own expertise in mechanics to make his way out of the woods.
When Floris finally finished his book just after graduating high school, he submitted the piece to a publisher. After a few weeks, he received a letter from the publisher, telling him that his book had pleasantly surprised them, and that they had sent it to an editor to fix any grammatical mistakes there may have been. Delighted by their son's success, both in school and in writing, his parents planned a trip to visit Yosemite park, a setting that closely resembled the one from his book.
Once they arrived at Yosemite, Floris couldn't believe his eyes; the national park looked almost exactly like how he had imagined the woods of Dianthus. Large mountain ranges enclosed a lush forest. Waterfalls and rivers decorated what wasn't wood or stone. The sight almost brought tears to his eyes. Once they arrived in their hotel room, he and his parents instantly began planning their activities. First on the list was, of course, a hiking trip through the park. They hired a jeep the very next day, which would take them to the other side of the park. There, they would follow one of the most scenic hiking trails.
The next day, Floris and his family signed out of the hotel and began their journey towards the other end of Yosemite. Even this journey was already mesmerizing. The high altitude of the road provided an excellent view of the park and all its beauty. Towards the end of the day, they arrived at their destination: a small cabin at the edge of the park.
The next day the family took off on their hiking adventure, geared up and ready to rumble. Their trail was a difficult one, but a rewarding one. Steep and narrow paths and constant declines and inclines would lead them to some of the most beautiful views the park had to offer. However, as stories go, this did not end well. Without announcement, the skies above began to change. Sunny weather made way for clouds. Wind started to pick up heftily. Rain came down in liters on end. Floris tried his best to fight against it, but in the end it became too much. He, and his family, were flung off the side of the trail. The downhill slope was merciless and didn't show any sign of stopping. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of pain, the rolling ended as Floris tumbled into the river below. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die! Were the last things that crossed his mind before everything faded to black.
After god knows how much time had passed, Floris finally came to. He was lying on the edge of a riverbank, his feet still dangling in the water. With great effort, he pulled himself up out of the semi-warm water. Realizing the situation he was in, he began to wildly study his surroundings. "Mom?!" He yelled with all his might, the forests giving no answer. "Dad?!" No answer. The storm had faded, and the sun was shining through the trees, illuminating everything in a dim green light. It wasn't long before the complete silence got to him; he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He was vulnerable, he was alone. He was scared. His parents were probably dead, and he was in a position that was arguably no better. Hesitantly, Floris looked down at himself, and was surprised to find that he still had his backpack, and everything in it, though it was completely soaked. Nature isn't as cruel as it seems. He thought to himself.
For the next few days, Floris survived on his own, stranded within the depths of Yosemite National Park, with no means to contact the outside world. Combining his mother's knowledge of botany with what his father had taught him of survival, Floris managed to hold his own, finding ample food and water, all whilst searching for a way back to civilization. However, his lack of socialization, and the constant fear of death quickly began to wear at him. He would hear sounds in complete silence, he would see things that weren't there. Quickly, the days began to be filled with constant paranoia. Floris started to loose sleep, only worsening his condition.
Things reached their climax nine days after the storm. Floris had not slept for over 48 hours. His body was aching, eyes were dry, but his mind was racing. Constant noises made it clear to him that something was following him. Something he could not see. Something that could see him. It's as if the entire forest was alive, trying to hunt him. But it was closer now. It was there, ready to pounce him. He began to run. But how could he? The forest was around him. He was a part of it, and he couldn't escape. Suddenly, his foot got stuck! With an audible screech and a thud, Floris collided with the ground. There it was! The forest was trying to get him killed! Wasting no time, Floris stood up again and began to run. It was getting closer, and no matter how hard Floris ran, no matter how many turns he took, he couldn't escape. "I'm not built for this! I'm not built for this! I'm just a human, how can I do this?!" He yelled in frustration as he kept running. Then, it jumped! Floris was done for, he was a dead man! The beast had made his move and there was no way he could escape! In a final ditch attempt, Floris turned himself around and extended his arm, hoping to throw the beast off. But it was all for naught. He felt the cold fangs of the beast bite down upon his arm. I'm done for... was the last thing Floris thought before he hit the ground. Wait... Hit the...ground? The cold feeling still surrounded his arm, and it certainly didn't feel natural. But he still felt it, which means he either wasn't dead, or he was and he was still feeling it. He slowly opened his eyes; nothing. Just trees, leaves. He then turned his gaze to his arm.
His face turned pale.
"AAAAAAARGH!"
His arm was gone. In its place, a wooden replica. But it didn't feel that way. Slowly, he tried to flex his fingers. Sure enough, with little resistance, the wood bent with it.
"What the fuck?" Floris said breathily, staring bewildered at his wooden arm. Nothing about it made sense. Why was it wood?! Why did it still move?! "What...the fuck?"
But it wasn't just the arm. Everything seemed different. The forest itself felt more alive than it had ever felt before...but it was friendly... It felt like it was a part of him. Whenever he breathed, the forest breathed. Whenever his heart beat, he could feel the forest beat with it. "What the hell is going on?" Floris said breathily. Standing up, he suddenly felt a strange tingling in his arm. Looking to the source, he saw that it had turned back into his old arm. As he extended his arm to take a better look at it however, he saw something even more perplexing: the plants in front of him moved along with him. Wait, am I doing that?
Suddenly, a set of voices caught his attention! They didn't sound far. Ignoring everything else, Floris immediately took off. For a good twenty minutes, he kept running uninterrupted. Then, finally! A road! A car! There were people! But...why were they so far? Their voices sounded so close earlier. Did...did the forest show me the way?
Floris returned to his residence in Denver, and went into hiding. He needed time to think. Time to reflect on everything that had happened. His parents had been confirmed dead; blunt trauma to multiple areas in the body. His mother was dead instantly, while his father had bled to death.
Floris would use his garden to practice his abilities in secret; no-one could know how he alone survived. Over time, he became incredibly efficient at using them, but he always kept them hidden. He could turn his hair into leaves for photosynthesis, his eyes could change colour.
For four years he remained like this. Cooped up in his house, writing, practicing. Over time, he grew to hate people; their continuous talking disturbed his thinking, their joy reminded him of how his parents were completely forgotten, their constant littering showed how they didn't care for the beast that was nature. The plants weren't like that, they were nice.
That all ended one day, when he sensed something new. Whilst in his garden, he began to meditate on his survival when something dawned upon him. The forest had chosen him. He had become its champion. He could have died, but the forest didn't let him. And now he was here. From that moment on he knew what he had to do: he had been chosen to enforce the rules of nature. The forest wanted balanced, and he was the one to bring it.
The time had come to take to the streets, and enact the rules of nature.
Personality
Motivation: "The forest is a place where life and death balance each other out in a fair and equal manner. I will see to it that that happens here as well."
Sexuality: Straight (though he doesn't mind transgendered women)
Likes:
- Nature
- Botany
- Music
- Literature
- Running
- Silence
Dislikes:
- Littering
- Feeling like he could be doing something productive
- Complainers
- Entitled people
- People in general
Derangement: His new abilities have given him a distinct disliking of humanity, almost to the point where he prefers the company of plants over that of other humans. Because of this, he isn't one to show sympathy easily, leading some to call him a sociopath (a claim he rarely denies).
Parahumanism
Skills: Floris has no superhuman strength, that's a given. However, he is exceedingly clever and quick-thinking. On top of that, his frequent running exercises have given him a stamina on par to those of near-professional athletes.
Thanks to his parents, Floris is quite knowledgable in the fields of self-defense and botany. He knows his way around a fist-fight, as well as a diverse range of plants.
Classification: Shaker/Thinker + Shifter
Details: Floris is able to turn his arms into a hardened version of Giant Sequoia wood, which has a denser composition than bone. He can then shift this wood into any shape that he wants, whether it's a key, a blade, it doesn't matter. As for his photosynthesis, the extra energy allows him to partially negate human exhaustion, thus giving him a slightly improved stamina, though it's not much.
Due to the nature of his powers (pun totally intended), he is able to mentally connect with all plant life, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. He can then use those roots to jump his mind from plant to plant, giving him incredible awareness and tracking abilities. In essence, this ability allows Floris to partially project his awareness in the being of plants, thus allowing him to hear, feel and smell everything, as if the plant he's possessing had those senses. Further, any plants that come into contact with this become subject to his ability to bend plants.
The big one of his abilities is his ability to bend and grow plants to his will. In the years since the incident he has mastered his abilities, allowing him to spur rapid, unnatural growth in any plant life. Furthermore, any plant that he can reach through his "root network" is subject to this ability.
Limitations: Constantly bending and growing plants will quickly wear Floris down as it requires an incredible amount of energy. Further, though Floris can make plants as big as he wants, the bigger they get, the harder the mental strain they enact upon him. Therefore, he prefers to stick to smaller scale use of his powers. Furthermore, Floris' ability to mentally connect with plant matter is grows more and more straining the further away the plant his mind travels to is. Floris himself estimates that the furthest he can go is roughly two kilometers.
Unlike the rest of the plants, Floris is unable to grow his arms when they've been turned into wood. This means that that ability is limited by equivalent exchange.
His photosynthesis only works if he has his flower hair out. Even then, it's a fairly weak source of energy and it won't supplement for long.
Equipment: Floris uses no special equipment.
GM
ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
Member
Seen
21 days ago
I'm still new to this, so I'll just post my character here...DianthusChibi Artwork by Seoxys6
Name: Floris Van Veldhoven
Occupation: Author/Mercenary
Alias: Dianthus
Age: 22
Alignment: (Good-ish) Anti-hero
Loyalty: Independant
Appearance: Floris is a young man, approximately 1.9 meters (6 feet 2 inches) tall. His face is rather smooth, with a single scar on his medium sized nose, in the form of a small white line. His skin is paler than most, bordering the shade of your stereotypical Irishman, which greatly contrasts his dark hair, which sits loosely on top of his head, reaching no further than the nape of his neck. His green eyes usually stare coldly at the world around him, though their intent is covered up by the coy smile he usually wears on his thin lips. He doesn't bother too much with clothing, making little to no effort to make sure his clothes match perfectly (though they usually do to some extent). His preferences lean towards a collared vest and khakis, with either sneakers or boots to finish the job. He can also usually be seen with large headphones over his head.
His costume is exceedingly simple, consisting out of nothing more than a brown shirt, jeans, and boots. According to a passersby, this is because those are easy to replace whenever they get torn. The rest of his disguise comes from his abilities. His eyes change colour to purple. His hair begins to flake, before turning into large, red leaves that sit around his head like a crown and go down to his hips.
History: Born and raised in a bustling city The Netherlands, Floris Van Veldhoven was never the talkative type. His father worked in the military as a fighter pilot, and was often away on training missions. Meanwhile, his mother worked as a botany professor and scientist at the local university, and was often busy discussing findings with colleagues or helping students with assignments. This left Floris with an excess of time to himself, which he spent in various ways. Sometimes he would spend his time listening to music, whilst on other occasions he would read through his mother's reports for the heck of it. Sometimes he would go to one of his friends to play video games, whilst on other occasions he would go to the university his mother taught at to run laps.
One day, when he was 16, his father was offered a position at an airbase located in Colorado, Floris had to say goodbye to the life he knew. His friends, family, academic dreams, all were left behind as they moved to their new life in Denver, Colorado. There, he attended a local high. Instantly thrown off by the different educational system, Floris found it difficult to adjust. Due to his long history with the Dutch educational systems, Floris was already miles ahead of his peers, easily surpassing his classmates in terms of grades, and even his teachers in terms of general knowledge. This humongous gap in level had two effects on Floris. It firstly served to make him an excellent subject to approach for tutorage. Secondly, it marked him as an outsider to his classmates. Together, they caused a situation in which the only reason for someone to approach Floris was to ask for help with classwork. While this did lead to some friends, their relationship was far from what you'd call natural.
To take his mind off of his weird situation, Floris decided it was time to pursue a genuine hobby. After hours of searching for a fitting pastime, he finally settled on writing. He could use his pen to escape to worlds of his own creation, and even earn a good buck if he did it right. Using his father's expertise in military operations, his mother's extensive knowledge of plants, and his own experiences with video games, Floris quickly began work on his first book. Titled "Serenity's Wake", it was a survival thriller set in a steampunk era. In it, the main character Flynt Eyre crashes his airship in the woods of Dianthus. He then has to use the onboard technology, and his own expertise in mechanics to make his way out of the woods.
When Floris finally finished his book just after graduating high school, he submitted the piece to a publisher. After a few weeks, he received a letter from the publisher, telling him that his book had pleasantly surprised them, and that they had sent it to an editor to fix any grammatical mistakes there may have been. Delighted by their son's success, both in school and in writing, his parents planned a trip to visit Yosemite park, a setting that closely resembled the one from his book.
Once they arrived at Yosemite, Floris couldn't believe his eyes; the national park looked almost exactly like how he had imagined the woods of Dianthus. Large mountain ranges enclosed a lush forest. Waterfalls and rivers decorated what wasn't wood or stone. The sight almost brought tears to his eyes. Once they arrived in their hotel room, he and his parents instantly began planning their activities. First on the list was, of course, a hiking trip through the park. They hired a jeep the very next day, which would take them to the other side of the park. There, they would follow one of the most scenic hiking trails.
The next day, Floris and his family signed out of the hotel and began their journey towards the other end of Yosemite. Even this journey was already mesmerizing. The high altitude of the road provided an excellent view of the park and all its beauty. Towards the end of the day, they arrived at their destination: a small cabin at the edge of the park.
The next day the family took off on their hiking adventure, geared up and ready to rumble. Their trail was a difficult one, but a rewarding one. Steep and narrow paths and constant declines and inclines would lead them to some of the most beautiful views the park had to offer. However, as stories go, this did not end well. Without announcement, the skies above began to change. Sunny weather made way for clouds. Wind started to pick up heftily. Rain came down in liters on end. Floris tried his best to fight against it, but in the end it became too much. He, and his family, were flung off the side of the trail. The downhill slope was merciless and didn't show any sign of stopping. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of pain, the rolling ended as Floris tumbled into the river below. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die! Were the last things that crossed his mind before everything faded to black.
After god knows how much time had passed, Floris finally came to. He was lying on the edge of a riverbank, his feet still dangling in the water. With great effort, he pulled himself up out of the semi-warm water. Realizing the situation he was in, he began to wildly study his surroundings. "Mom?!" He yelled with all his might, the forests giving no answer. "Dad?!" No answer. The storm had faded, and the sun was shining through the trees, illuminating everything in a dim green light. It wasn't long before the complete silence got to him; he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He was vulnerable, he was alone. He was scared. His parents were probably dead, and he was in a position that was arguably no better. Hesitantly, Floris looked down at himself, and was surprised to find that he still had his backpack, and everything in it, though it was completely soaked. Nature isn't as cruel as it seems. He thought to himself.
For the next few days, Floris survived on his own, stranded within the depths of Yosemite National Park, with no means to contact the outside world. Combining his mother's knowledge of botany with what his father had taught him of survival, Floris managed to hold his own, finding ample food and water, all whilst searching for a way back to civilization. However, his lack of socialization, and the constant fear of death quickly began to wear at him. He would hear sounds in complete silence, he would see things that weren't there. Quickly, the days began to be filled with constant paranoia. Floris started to loose sleep, only worsening his condition.
Things reached their climax nine days after the storm. Floris had not slept for over 48 hours. His body was aching, eyes were dry, but his mind was racing. Constant noises made it clear to him that something was following him. Something he could not see. Something that could see him. It's as if the entire forest was alive, trying to hunt him. But it was closer now. It was there, ready to pounce him. He began to run. But how could he? The forest was around him. He was a part of it, and he couldn't escape. Suddenly, his foot got stuck! With an audible screech and a thud, Floris collided with the ground. There it was! The forest was trying to get him killed! Wasting no time, Floris stood up again and began to run. It was getting closer, and no matter how hard Floris ran, no matter how many turns he took, he couldn't escape. "I'm not built for this! I'm not built for this! I'm just a human, how can I do this?!" He yelled in frustration as he kept running. Then, it jumped! Floris was done for, he was a dead man! The beast had made his move and there was no way he could escape! In a final ditch attempt, Floris turned himself around and extended his arm, hoping to throw the beast off. But it was all for naught. He felt the cold fangs of the beast bite down upon his arm. I'm done for... was the last thing Floris thought before he hit the ground. Wait... Hit the...ground? The cold feeling still surrounded his arm, and it certainly didn't feel natural. But he still felt it, which means he either wasn't dead, or he was and he was still feeling it. He slowly opened his eyes; nothing. Just trees, leaves. He then turned his gaze to his arm.
His face turned pale.
"AAAAAAARGH!"
His arm was gone. In its place, a wooden replica. But it didn't feel that way. Slowly, he tried to flex his fingers. Sure enough, with little resistance, the wood bent with it.
"What the fuck?" Floris said breathily, staring bewildered at his wooden arm. Nothing about it made sense. Why was it wood?! Why did it still move?! "What...the fuck?"
But it wasn't just the arm. Everything seemed different. The forest itself felt more alive than it had ever felt before...but it was friendly... It felt like it was a part of him. Whenever he breathed, the forest breathed. Whenever his heart beat, he could feel the forest beat with it. "What the hell is going on?" Floris said breathily. Standing up, he suddenly felt a strange tingling in his arm. Looking to the source, he saw that it had turned back into his old arm. As he extended his arm to take a better look at it however, he saw something even more perplexing: the plants in front of him moved along with him. Wait, am I doing that?
Suddenly, a set of voices caught his attention! They didn't sound far. Ignoring everything else, Floris immediately took off. For a good twenty minutes, he kept running uninterrupted. Then, finally! A road! A car! There were people! But...why were they so far? Their voices sounded so close earlier. Did...did the forest show me the way?
Floris returned to his residence in Denver, and went into hiding. He needed time to think. Time to reflect on everything that had happened. His parents had been confirmed dead; blunt trauma to multiple areas in the body. His mother was dead instantly, while his father had bled to death.
Floris would use his garden to practice his abilities in secret; no-one could know how he alone survived. Over time, he became incredibly efficient at using them, but he always kept them hidden. He could turn his hair into leaves for photosynthesis, his eyes could change colour.
For four years he remained like this. Cooped up in his house, writing, practicing. Over time, he grew to hate people; their continuous talking disturbed his thinking, their joy reminded him of how his parents were completely forgotten, their constant littering showed how they didn't care for the beast that was nature. The plants weren't like that, they were nice.
That all ended one day, when he sensed something new. Whilst in his garden, he began to meditate on his survival when something dawned upon him. The forest had chosen him. He had become its champion. He could have died, but the forest didn't let him. And now he was here. From that moment on he knew what he had to do: he had been chosen to enforce the rules of nature. The forest wanted balanced, and he was the one to bring it.
The time had come to take to the streets, and enact the rules of nature.Personality
Motivation: "The forest is a place where life and death balance each other out in a fair and equal manner. I will see to it that that happens here as well."
Sexuality: Straight (though he doesn't mind transgendered women)
Likes:
- Nature
- Botany
- Music
- Literature
- Running
- Silence
Dislikes:
- Littering
- Feeling like he could be doing something productive
- Complainers
- Entitled people
- People in general
Derangement: His new abilities have given him a distinct disliking of humanity, almost to the point where he prefers the company of plants over that of other humans. Because of this, he isn't one to show sympathy easily, leading some to call him a sociopath (a claim he rarely denies).Parahumanism
Skills: Floris has no superhuman strength, that's a given. However, he is exceedingly clever and quick-thinking. On top of that, his frequent running exercises have given him a stamina on par to those of near-professional athletes.
Thanks to his parents, Floris is quite knowledgable in the fields of self-defense and botany. He knows his way around a fist-fight, as well as a diverse range of plants.
Classification: Shaker/Thinker + Shifter
Details: Floris is able to turn his arms into a hardened version of Giant Sequoia wood, which has a denser composition than bone. He can then shift this wood into any shape that he wants, whether it's a key, a blade, it doesn't matter. As for his photosynthesis, the extra energy allows him to partially negate human exhaustion, thus giving him a slightly improved stamina, though it's not much.
Due to the nature of his powers (pun totally intended), he is able to mentally connect with all plant life, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. He can then use those roots to jump his mind from plant to plant, giving him incredible awareness and tracking abilities. Further, any plants that come into contact with this become subject to his ability to bend plants.
The big one of his abilities is his ability to bend and grow plants to his will. In the years since the incident he has mastered his abilities, allowing him to spur rapid, unnatural growth in any plant life. Furthermore, any plant that he can reach through his "root network" is subject to this ability.
Limitations: Constantly bending and growing plants will quickly wear Floris down as it requires an incredible amount of energy. Further, though Floris can make plants as big as he wants, the bigger they get, the harder the mental strain they enact upon him. Therefore, he prefers to stick to smaller scale use of his powers. Furthermore, Floris' ability to mentally connect with plant matter is grows more and more straining the further away the plant his mind travels to is. Floris himself estimates that the furthest he can go is roughly two kilometers.
Unlike the rest of the plants, Floris is unable to grow his arms when they've been turned into wood. This means that that ability is limited by equivalent exchange.
His photosynthesis only works if he has his flower hair out. Even then, it's a fairly weak source of energy and it won't supplement for long.
Equipment: Floris uses no special equipment.
Sorry it took so long to get around to this, things have been hectic. That said, great thanks to my appointed co-GMs @Old Amsterdam and especially @Eklispe for staying on things and working with you over Discord. So here's the critiquing of the alpha and omega of this game, the final word.
Firstly, I'd highly suggest adding some sort of mask or facial covering to his costume. Changing eye color and replacing hair with leaves is only going to go so far for identity concealment. Clark Kenting is definitely not gonna cut it in this world, especially when there's an entire classification of powers for pulling secret information out of your ass.
Secondly, I need a more detailed explanation of how the mental connection to plants works. You describe it as giving him heightened awareness and tracking by moving his mind through plants, but how does this sensory awareness actually manifest? Obviously plants can't see and share little to no senses with animals, so how does it actually function? Does it create a new sense of sight/hearing etc. in the plant he's observing through? Or does he experience the surroundings in a completely different way? This portion of the powers definitely needs more detail.
But apart from these observations things are looking good. History is well written, concept is solid, just a little more refining and he's good. Let me know when you're all set and I'll look at those bits again.
coGM
Old Amsterdam Coven Witch
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
@Miakoda
Given you've covered those points Pro brought up, I'm going to go ahead and Approve you. Feel free to post the CS into the Character Tab and enter the world of Denver. Since you're in Discord with us, feel free to contact any of us GMs there if you'd like assistance in getting involved somewhere or getting your own little side show started.
Given you've covered those points Pro brought up, I'm going to go ahead and Approve you. Feel free to post the CS into the Character Tab and enter the world of Denver. Since you're in Discord with us, feel free to contact any of us GMs there if you'd like assistance in getting involved somewhere or getting your own little side show started.
coGM
Old Amsterdam Coven Witch
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
How about we never, ever remind me about that terrible fail I just committed. Yeah? Okay. Good.
1x Laugh
coGM
Old Amsterdam Coven Witch
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
Yes, phone, I love being made into more of a fool. >>
I do want to go ahead and mention that this was a really, truly annoying night.
And a friendly reminder that we do always accept NPC sheets (even if we might not use them) and ideas. ^°
I do want to go ahead and mention that this was a really, truly annoying night.
And a friendly reminder that we do always accept NPC sheets (even if we might not use them) and ideas. ^°
Gardevoiran The Forbidden One
Member
Seen
7 mos ago
@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@Eklispe
Name: Kendall Banks
Alias: Mastar
Age: 14
Alignment: Anti-Hero
Loyalty: Independent, but desires greatly to join the PRT.
Appearance: Standing at a shorter 4'6" with a lithe frame and longer legs, Kendall is more or less just your average looking girl. There's nothing particularly unique and interesting about her aside from her odd apparel choices, which always consists of a long sleeved top and bottom in some form or another. Her hair is an interesting pinkish-orange, which is interesting considering how it feels completely natural and is treated natural by the majority of hair stylists and doctors.
In action, her outfit takes on a more sleek approach as she dons on a black bodysuit, complete with a cloak draped over her shoulders and back, and with her face obscured by a layer of tar, forming a rather sinister and demonic face.
History:
Motivations: Fortune and Glory, friend. Fortune and Glory.
Sexuality: Bicurious
Likes:
Dislikes:
Derangement: Much like tar, Kendall is very quick to become attached to people and will fight to the absolute end in order to remain being attached with those people, even to the point where she will arrest control of an individual trying to remove her from the situation she is in to rid them of involvement. She's also frequently thirsty, and downs water bottles incredibly fast pretty often. Lastly, she has been known to vomit tar for no real reason, which is... odd, but she's managed to keep it down under lock so nobody notices her secret.
Skills: Cooking, drinking bottles of water, painting, playing video games, cleaning for non-combat skills. As for combat, Kendall knows a bit of fistfighting in addition to being able to hold and fire a gun (not accurately, however).
Classification: Breaker / Master / Changer (Sub-Mover and Shaker)
Details: Kendall is able to completely transform her body into a tar and manipulate it to her wishes. The tar that makes up Kendall's body is unique, allowing her the ability to mind control organisms through a psychic link if enough of the substance is ingested into the individual's body, and possesses a regenerative quality to it that allows it to reform into matching Kendall's non-tar mass over time, with a small supply of sirplus tar contained within unknown areas, likely in a barrel somewhere. The tar is hydrophobic, and it can allow for Kendall to alter her physical form in order to create disguises or illusions, or possibly because she desires to just change how she looks.
Limitations: Kendall cannot absorb tar that is not specific to her power, and she cannot create more tar without causing significant harm to her physical body by means of amputation, which if done properly, results in more tar stored for Kendall to have access to should she care to change her form. Additionally, she can only manipulate her form to fit within the physical limits of her mass unless she has more tar on hand to work with.
The tar that Kendall controls is regenerative after a specific point, in which enough of Kendall's mass has been separated from her form and cannot be retrieved, or significant damage has been done to Kendall's body. The regeneration is at a fixed rate of a pound per minute, and the minimum separation weight for initiation is 20 pounds. As the tar regenerates, all other tar away from Kendall's body reverts to a docile state where it can be re-obtained by people who are not Kendall and stored for later use, but if it comes into contact with Kendall it will just be re-assimilated into her form.
As for her Master limits, Kendall can only give simple commands to those she is controlling, and the duration of the control matters with how much tar the person has consumed. Normally, anything less than a cup would have very little effect, only stretching to a minor and short headache, but anything above a cup results in the individual being controlled for at least thirty seconds. The more tar someone drinks, the longer the duration is. There are no real limits to range and or people afflicted, as the tar can be ingested by dozens and it would all have the same effect, however the duration for affliction is shortened greatly after more than 4 people controlled at once. When the effects ware off on the individual, they will violently regurgitate the tar that they have consumed.
Equipment: (To be filled out at a later date)
It's still a bit of a WIP, namely the equipment section, so please note that.
Edit - Alignment and limitations.
Edit2 - Amputation for Accumulation, Master Specifics, and History Tweak
Name: Kendall Banks
Alias: Mastar
Age: 14
Alignment: Anti-Hero
Loyalty: Independent, but desires greatly to join the PRT.
Appearance: Standing at a shorter 4'6" with a lithe frame and longer legs, Kendall is more or less just your average looking girl. There's nothing particularly unique and interesting about her aside from her odd apparel choices, which always consists of a long sleeved top and bottom in some form or another. Her hair is an interesting pinkish-orange, which is interesting considering how it feels completely natural and is treated natural by the majority of hair stylists and doctors.
In action, her outfit takes on a more sleek approach as she dons on a black bodysuit, complete with a cloak draped over her shoulders and back, and with her face obscured by a layer of tar, forming a rather sinister and demonic face.
History:
An uninteresting life for an uninteresting girl, Kendall's family was always bordering on the lower-middle class of the economy. Despite that, her parents managed to get through with their little girl as easily as they could, even if they worked long hours into the night from the break of dawn, hardly with days off. It was all in an effort to keep their family fine and their little girl happy and content, which she was quite often. She didn't have a lot of time to spend with them, but she was taught early on to take care of herself in her house while her parents were away.
On her 13th birthday, however, things were a bit different in her house. That was a school day for her, but she had recently come down with a case of the flu. As a sort of early birthday present, Kendall's parents said she could stay home from school in order to recover while her parents took the later half of the day off so she could spend the rest of the day with them. They both still had to work, unfortunately, because they had recently spent their days off concerning themselves with the situation of their daughter, but they promised to return to Kendall as fast as they could.
What follows below is a retelling of that day.
Afflicted with a fever of near 103 degrees Fahrenheit, Kendall sat within the confines of her bed, shivering away at the seemingly cold air around her. Her body was expelling the heat from it at a pace she couldn't comprehend, and she was absolutely swamped for that day. She waited for the medicine to take effect, though she felt her body continue to get worse and worse as she waited, but the medicine was taken in a terrible way. She had nothing to use as fuel for the medicine, and she had taken the entirety of the substances in a short time span. Every minute that passed was another minute that made her stomach squirm and churn, the acidic bile from within bubbling up and singeing the bottom of her esophagus. She felt like a demon was inside her and it needed to be expelled from within, no matter what cost.
Slugging her way to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support, Kendall proceeded to kneel over the bathtub and simply rest on it before she felt something within her char the bottom of her esophagus before rocketing out of Kendalls throat into the bathtub. At first, it was the standard color of vomit, but as time continued, it slowly grew more and more into a pool. As the concern of Kendall rose at how much she was throwing up, the more she missed her parents and wanted them there. At that point, she noticed the pool of bile begin to blacken, and not before long, it was the color of solid ink. Kendall felt the absence of a leg as she looked down, noticing the incredibly small pool of tar below her knee where her leg was supposed to be. Wiping the tarry substance from her mouth and chin, the girl realized she needed to call someone, anyone, before she curled up in a pool of what she was throwing up and died. She had lost her leg, she didn't need to lose anything else in this tar.
Crawling through the bathroom and halls of her apartment, Kendall managed to make it to the one phone in the house before calling 911 and having an ambulance come rushing to her apartment complex, taking account of the gallons of bile, tar, and other fluids as they shipped her to the nearest hospital they could, identifying the girl in critical condition due to the loss of her entire left leg and her right hand.
It was a miracle she even survived the ordeal, given the situation.
A PRT Official came quickly to the hospital to assess the girl in her situation, noticing the tarlike substance that formed around her stunted waist and wrist as it regrew back into the shape of the respective body parts that once existed. Contact with Kendall's parents were made as they were informed of their child's new physician and doctor, instructed to be the only one who treats Kendall under most circumstances.
Since that day, Kendall's found ways to explore her power while still acting as an independent hero. She's currently afraid of going to the PRT with an offer to join the Wards as she's currently still trying to find herself and Mastar, but she does hope that one day she's able to join up with their ranks and be that much closer to her personal heroes.
On her 13th birthday, however, things were a bit different in her house. That was a school day for her, but she had recently come down with a case of the flu. As a sort of early birthday present, Kendall's parents said she could stay home from school in order to recover while her parents took the later half of the day off so she could spend the rest of the day with them. They both still had to work, unfortunately, because they had recently spent their days off concerning themselves with the situation of their daughter, but they promised to return to Kendall as fast as they could.
What follows below is a retelling of that day.
Afflicted with a fever of near 103 degrees Fahrenheit, Kendall sat within the confines of her bed, shivering away at the seemingly cold air around her. Her body was expelling the heat from it at a pace she couldn't comprehend, and she was absolutely swamped for that day. She waited for the medicine to take effect, though she felt her body continue to get worse and worse as she waited, but the medicine was taken in a terrible way. She had nothing to use as fuel for the medicine, and she had taken the entirety of the substances in a short time span. Every minute that passed was another minute that made her stomach squirm and churn, the acidic bile from within bubbling up and singeing the bottom of her esophagus. She felt like a demon was inside her and it needed to be expelled from within, no matter what cost.
Slugging her way to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support, Kendall proceeded to kneel over the bathtub and simply rest on it before she felt something within her char the bottom of her esophagus before rocketing out of Kendalls throat into the bathtub. At first, it was the standard color of vomit, but as time continued, it slowly grew more and more into a pool. As the concern of Kendall rose at how much she was throwing up, the more she missed her parents and wanted them there. At that point, she noticed the pool of bile begin to blacken, and not before long, it was the color of solid ink. Kendall felt the absence of a leg as she looked down, noticing the incredibly small pool of tar below her knee where her leg was supposed to be. Wiping the tarry substance from her mouth and chin, the girl realized she needed to call someone, anyone, before she curled up in a pool of what she was throwing up and died. She had lost her leg, she didn't need to lose anything else in this tar.
Crawling through the bathroom and halls of her apartment, Kendall managed to make it to the one phone in the house before calling 911 and having an ambulance come rushing to her apartment complex, taking account of the gallons of bile, tar, and other fluids as they shipped her to the nearest hospital they could, identifying the girl in critical condition due to the loss of her entire left leg and her right hand.
It was a miracle she even survived the ordeal, given the situation.
A PRT Official came quickly to the hospital to assess the girl in her situation, noticing the tarlike substance that formed around her stunted waist and wrist as it regrew back into the shape of the respective body parts that once existed. Contact with Kendall's parents were made as they were informed of their child's new physician and doctor, instructed to be the only one who treats Kendall under most circumstances.
Since that day, Kendall's found ways to explore her power while still acting as an independent hero. She's currently afraid of going to the PRT with an offer to join the Wards as she's currently still trying to find herself and Mastar, but she does hope that one day she's able to join up with their ranks and be that much closer to her personal heroes.
Personality
Motivations: Fortune and Glory, friend. Fortune and Glory.
Sexuality: Bicurious
Likes:
- Water
- Baths
- Showers
- Hugs
- Blue Colors
- Painting
Dislikes:
- Controlling Animals
- Smoking
- Red Meat
- Fire
- Bedtimes
- Hospitals
Derangement: Much like tar, Kendall is very quick to become attached to people and will fight to the absolute end in order to remain being attached with those people, even to the point where she will arrest control of an individual trying to remove her from the situation she is in to rid them of involvement. She's also frequently thirsty, and downs water bottles incredibly fast pretty often. Lastly, she has been known to vomit tar for no real reason, which is... odd, but she's managed to keep it down under lock so nobody notices her secret.
Parahumanism
Skills: Cooking, drinking bottles of water, painting, playing video games, cleaning for non-combat skills. As for combat, Kendall knows a bit of fistfighting in addition to being able to hold and fire a gun (not accurately, however).
Classification: Breaker / Master / Changer (Sub-Mover and Shaker)
Details: Kendall is able to completely transform her body into a tar and manipulate it to her wishes. The tar that makes up Kendall's body is unique, allowing her the ability to mind control organisms through a psychic link if enough of the substance is ingested into the individual's body, and possesses a regenerative quality to it that allows it to reform into matching Kendall's non-tar mass over time, with a small supply of sirplus tar contained within unknown areas, likely in a barrel somewhere. The tar is hydrophobic, and it can allow for Kendall to alter her physical form in order to create disguises or illusions, or possibly because she desires to just change how she looks.
Limitations: Kendall cannot absorb tar that is not specific to her power, and she cannot create more tar without causing significant harm to her physical body by means of amputation, which if done properly, results in more tar stored for Kendall to have access to should she care to change her form. Additionally, she can only manipulate her form to fit within the physical limits of her mass unless she has more tar on hand to work with.
The tar that Kendall controls is regenerative after a specific point, in which enough of Kendall's mass has been separated from her form and cannot be retrieved, or significant damage has been done to Kendall's body. The regeneration is at a fixed rate of a pound per minute, and the minimum separation weight for initiation is 20 pounds. As the tar regenerates, all other tar away from Kendall's body reverts to a docile state where it can be re-obtained by people who are not Kendall and stored for later use, but if it comes into contact with Kendall it will just be re-assimilated into her form.
As for her Master limits, Kendall can only give simple commands to those she is controlling, and the duration of the control matters with how much tar the person has consumed. Normally, anything less than a cup would have very little effect, only stretching to a minor and short headache, but anything above a cup results in the individual being controlled for at least thirty seconds. The more tar someone drinks, the longer the duration is. There are no real limits to range and or people afflicted, as the tar can be ingested by dozens and it would all have the same effect, however the duration for affliction is shortened greatly after more than 4 people controlled at once. When the effects ware off on the individual, they will violently regurgitate the tar that they have consumed.
Equipment: (To be filled out at a later date)
It's still a bit of a WIP, namely the equipment section, so please note that.
Edit - Alignment and limitations.
Edit2 - Amputation for Accumulation, Master Specifics, and History Tweak
LemonZest1337 Fresh and Zesty
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Bahamut
Name: Sandra Briguard
Alias: Bahamut
Age: 28
Alignment: Anti hero.
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Sandra is, unique. She stands at a daunting 300cm tall, this alone would make anyone look rather intimidating, but Sandra has taken it a step further. Obviously a case 53 her scaled body is mostly black excluding her under arms, stomach and the under side of her tail. her stomach, tail and the bottom of her forearms are all a pale orange while her armpits are a dull pink. Oh yeah she also has giant horns sticking out of her head, and a 30 foot wingspan, yeah that's right wings. Sandra is also covered in gray tipped spikes, the areas these spikes take up are the better half of her wings cutting off as the membrane gets thinner, her hair is replaced with a thick array of spikes. The final two areas to be covered in spikes are the top side of her forearms and the end of her tail, opposed to what you might think these spikes don't get in the way that much, except for when she's fighting, but that's a whole other story. (ps if she told you her weight she'd have to kill you. it's around 500lbs. wings and tails weigh a lot, not to mention large bone horns and scales. And them thighs.)
Sandra's face is surprisingly human if you take away the gray coloration, the scales and the jagged /pointy ears. Her bright red eyes could be called beautiful, or terrifying, take your pick. Her teeth are all pointed and rather sharp gleaming a clean white though she manages to keep her pointed teeth well hidden.
Sandra's costume is just a set of her modified short shorts or jeans mixed with some modified tank tops, her massive wing, horns and tail make most items of clothing rather reluctant when it comes to actually fitting, being tall just adds to the problem.
History: Sandra's happy story starts with he meeting the man of her dreams, Gavin Edwards. He was a happy and cuddly guy who showed her many good times, Sandra couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found such a beautiful person both inside and out. They didn't wait long before buying a house and marrying one another, they managed to line up the wedding with Sandra's 25th birthday. These were without a doubt the best days in her life, and she had one man to thank for all of it.
Not long into their first year of marriage the two were trying for a baby, this is when Sandra was hit by her first major upset, she was infertile. This obviously was crushing for her, she was unable to continue her passed parents family line. Gavin did try to comfort her and even proposed adopting a child, but Sandra wasn't open to the idea of children any more. She couldn't bear the thought of looking down at her adopted child and thinking back to these sad days. Eventually Sandra got over it and with Gavin's help was back to gardening and cooking in no time. Her life was still great, she just couldn't have a child, she managed to convince herself that this wasn't a bad thing.
The pair spent the next year and a half cuddling and being as happy as they could be, sure there was the occasional argument but that was bound to happen. And their relationship bloomed like the many flowers in their garden, and it seemed like it would continue along this path for the rest of their lives. Then Gavin was involved in a car accident, it wasn't anything bad in honesty, Gavin just dinged a mans car as he drove out of the parking lot next to his work, but unluckily for Gavin the owner of the car saw him bump their car. The man was furious screaming and spitting in the usually calm and gentle Gavin's face, but Gavin wasn't having it today, this man was so unjustly angry and rude, it drove Gavin mad. So Gavin punched his coworker in the face and got into a bloody brawl, resulting in him being promptly fired afterwards.
This is when Sandra's life started to plummet down. At first Gavin was just a little different, their arguments became a little more frequent, but nothing earth shattering. It wasn't until Gavin's powers manifested themselves that things started going down faster than an intercontinental ballistic missile. Gavin could fire smoke from his hands. At first he couldn't believe what was going on and tested his powers rather than looking for a job. And slowly their money started to run out, and with it Gavin's kindness. This hideous spiral eventually evolved into domestic abuse. Then around 10 months ago Gavin decided that it was a good idea to use his powers on Sandra. Sandra had spoken up to someone about her husbands violence and he'd found out, so he found it fitting to choke her with smoke, this was the final straw for Sandra. Any hope she had sealed deep away inside her was just squeezed out of her.
Seeing no end to her misery Sandra stared digging and searching for something, she heard a few whispers about a means of buying powers something about a frying pan or a pot. And with a few shady late night meetings and questionable payment methods Sandra was able to find the Cauldron. She had a shot at getting herself out of this disgusting relationship, but she lacked one key ingredient. Money. She had saved a great deal in preparation for this knowing it couldn't be cheap but she had only amassed a measly 1 grand, but she did have something that was worth a lot of money. Gavin's fancy car that he loved oh so dearly. And thus began her plan to retake her life. So she started phase one and slipped some high strength medicine into Gavin's next meal and before she knew it he'd gone of to bed to sleep. Phase one going off without a hitch she quickly proceeded to steal Gavin's keys and drove off to give it in and get the money she needed. Phase two was a success and she sold the car for a sizable amount of money, that stupid car had finally been good for something. Now with the extra money she and a few favors for the cauldron, she could finally get some sweet sweet revenge.
Now the procedure didn't go how she thought it would, she thought she'd get some small power something that was just enough to get her husband back. But she came out looking like a monster, she was distraught at first but she didn't think about taking out her anger on anyone. Except Gavin. So as soon as she was able Sandra headed straight for the bastard, he had turned into a monster who wasn't deserving of the love she'd given him, and now she was a monster as well. The Irony would have made her smile if not for the horrible circumstance that was required to stage such a thing. And the fact that she was involved in it and it wasn't some movie.
under the dull light of the moon Sandra crept back into her home to find the place all torn up, obviously a reaction of a enraged Gavin after seeing his pride and joy stolen. Sandra couldn't help but wear a slightly deranged grin. She would gently call out "Oh Gaaaavin. I'm back." in which the response would be a rabid slur of insults consisting of every foul word in the book and comments about her being useless, not even able to have a child that could be more useful. But this was all as he stormed out of his room and down the hall, this was all before her realized that his tender little punching bag was now a seven foot tall monster. And by the time he had seen her, it was already to late. She snapped the arms and broke the knuckles used to punch her, she shattered the legs used to kick her, and finally she crushed the jaw used to insult her. But she did not kill him, she had called an ambulance before she'd entered so that she was sure he'd get attention fast enough to keep him alive, after leaving his mangled body by the door Sandra would leave the house and walk off to back to the Cauldron. She didn't even want to see the ambulance drag his destroyed form off to be looked after.
It's now been a few weeks of adjusting to being a dragon person. Have passed and she still hasn't gotten used to it, maybe she thought adjusting was going to be easy, it didn't really matter. She had beat down a few criminals most of the time leaving pitch black spikes impeded in one of their legs. There was even a bite mark one time.
Personality
Motivations: Sandra is in it to help. Although she might make that hard to believe.
Sexuality: Anything willing to smash.
Likes:
- Pain.
- Large quantities of meat.
- The rain.
- Friends.
- A good fight.
Dislikes:
- Negative comments about someone's appearance.
- Cocky people.
- Waiting.
- Pacifists.
- Fruit.
Derangement: Sandra is aggressive plain and simple, she isn't good with people or expressing emotions like lover or kindness. But her actions are speak louder than her words, but if you piss her off (Which is not an amazing feat) then she is very quick to go towards physical violence. She'd much more happily insert your head into a wall than listen to people yell at her about property damage.
Parahumanism
Skills:
Cooking lvl 60: Sandra is a competent cook and can work her way around a kitchen that could accommodate her spacial needs. She's net to big on the presentation of her food but that doesn't take away from the great flavors of her fried rice or Spaghetti and meatballs.
Gardening: Sandra knows a good deal about managing a garden and naming the plants that inhabit it, her thumbs were very green given all her spare time she had waiting on the husband to get home from work.
Classification: Mover/Brute
Details: Sandra's power has a lot that can be taken from face value. She is a half dragon monster person, with obscene amounts of strength treating walls like tissue paper and steel like tinfoil, the heaviest thing she's lifted was around 200tonnes but she felt like she could honestly lift a bit more, this strength is also accompanied by an equally impressive durability, being able to take bullets and suffer no damage until larger calibers are drawn and even then it's still a feat to kill her with firearms. Only things like grenades and RPGs are powerful enough to get her undivided attention. And even if you manage to get past her defense she also has a quick healing factor that can heal most wounds, ranging from cuts and burns to internal organ damage. Things like missing limbs and broken bones still take a few weeks to recover from.
Her regenerative capabilities are many times stronger for the many spines covering her body. Normally her spines are in a "passive" state where they are not overly large and are dulled. But once they are broken off they will regenerate and grow back larger than before, they start off as softer white spikes that can be broken even more easily than they were initially. But don't be mistaken these soft spines are still very sharp and you would not want them embedded in you.
But if Sandra's spines are left in their soft state for thirty seconds they will suddenly fade to black and become incredibly hard. adding to her already impressive durability. These hard spikes are near impossible to break off requiring multiple explosives. Her spines rapid regrowth is seemingly linked to her adrenal glands as they are only mass produced when she's in a confrontation and will eventually fall out on their own after Sandra feels safe.
Almost forgot to mention. She can fly pretty well, like 45mph when full boosting it forward.
Limitations: Sandra is an extremely physically powerful opponent but she doese have some glaring issues. Her regrowing spines have a delay of about 3 seconds before they sprout again and repeated breaking of her spikes does drain her stamina. She also has a weakness to electricity, her healing is dampened for a time when she suffers massive shocks, the large the shock the longer her healing is weakened and her spikes don't regrow. And the fact she needs to take damage to perform optimally is not 100% ideal even for someone with regenerative powers.
Equipment: Sandra doesn't do equipment. Unless you count her broken phone and clothes.
So, this looks like fun. Any chance of another member of the Minutemen? I'm thinking of something along the lines of Blaster/Shaker with a sort of elemental manipulation ability (throwing fireballs, causing localized earthquakes, etc.) that mainly works offensively, if that would work. I'm also a bit unsure on what sort of event could cause that sort of power to trigger, so suggestions are welcome. I'll try to read through the IC a bit later if you'll have me.
coGM
The Minutemen are in a bit of an odd state at the moment so joining them would probably be a little unfeasible. However there are plenty of other independents floating around you can interact with. As for your character we'd be more than willing to help you hash out the details, as Worm trigger's are a bit special. Would love to chat with you in the discord linked in the OP or here.
© 2007-2024